Blazon

Blazon (pronounced bley-zuhn)

(1) In heraldry, an escutcheon or coat of arms or a banner depicting a coat of arms.

(2) In heraldry, a description (verbal or written or in an image) of a coat of arms.

(3) In heraldry, a formalized language for describing a coat of arms (the heraldic description of armorial bearings).

(4) An ostentatious display, verbal or otherwise.

(5) A description or recording (especially of the good qualities of a person or thing).

(6) In literature, verses which dwelt upon and described various parts of a woman's body (usually in admiration). 

(7) Conspicuously or publicly to set forth; display; proclaim.

(8) To adorn or embellish, especially brilliantly or showily.

(9) To depict (heraldic arms or the like) in proper form and color.

(10) To describe a coat of arms.

1275-1300: From the late thirteenth century Middle English blazon (armorial bearings, coat of arms), from the twelfth century Old French blason (shield, blazon (also “collar bone”).  Of the words in the Romance languages (the Spanish blason, Italian blasone, Portuguese brasao & Provençal blezo, the first two are said to be French loan-words and the origins of all remain uncertain.  According to the OED (Oxford English Dictionary), the suggestion by nineteenth century French etymologists of connections with Germanic words related to English blaze is dubious because of the sense disparities.  The verb blazon (to depict or paint (armorial bearings) dates from the mid sixteenth century and was either (or both) from the noun or the French blasonner (from the French noun).  In English, it had earlier in the 1500s been used to mean “descriptively to set forth; descriptively” especially (by at least the 1530s) specifically “to vaunt or boast” and in that sense it was probably at least influenced by the English blaze.  Blazon & blazoning are nouns & verbs, blazoner, blazonry & blazonment are nouns and blazoned & blazonable are adjectives; the noun plural is blazons.

A coat of arms, possibly of dubious provenance. 

The now more familiar verb emblazon (inscribe conspicuously) seems first to have been used around the 1590s in the sense of “extol” and the still common related forms (emblazoning; emblazoned) emerged almost simultaneously.  The construct of emblazon was en- +‎ blazon (from the Old French blason (in its primary sense of “shield”).  The en- prefix was from the Middle English en- (en-, in-), from the Old French en- (also an-), from the Latin in- (in, into).  It was also an alteration of in-, from the Middle English in-, from the Old English in- (in, into), from the Proto-Germanic in (in).  Both the Latin & Germanic forms were from the primitive Indo-European en (in, into).  The intensive use of the Old French en- & an- was due to confluence with Frankish intensive prefix an- which was related to the Old English intensive prefix -on.  It formed a transitive verb whose meaning is to make the attached adjective (1) in, into, (2) on, onto or (3) covered.  It was used also to denote “caused” or as an intensifier.  The prefix em- was (and still is) used before certain consonants, notably the labials “b” & “p”.

Google ngram: It shouldn’t be surprising there seems to have been a decline in the use of “blazon” while “emblazoned” has by comparison, in recent decades, flourished.  That would reflect matters of heraldry declining in significance, their appearance in printed materials correspondingly reduced in volume.  However, because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Self referential emblazoning: Lindsay Lohan's selfie of her modeling a sweater by Ashish, her visage emblazoned in sequins, London, November 2014.

Impressionistically though this assumption is, few would doubt “blazon” is now rare while “emblazoned” is far from uncommon.  While “emblazon” began with the meaning “that which the emblazoner does” (ie (1) to adorn with prominent, (2) to inscribe upon and (3) to draw a coat of arms) it evolved by the mid-nineteenth century with the familiar modern sense of “having left in the mind a vivid impression” (often in the form “emblazoned on one’s memory”).  In English, there’s nothing unusual in a derived or modified form of a word becoming common than its original root, even to the point the where the original is rendered rare, unfamiliar or even obsolete, a phenomenon due to changes in usage patterns, altered conventions in pronunciation or shifts in meaning that make the derived form more practical or culturally resonant.  That’s just how English evolves.

Other examples include (1) ruthless vs. ruth (ruth (pity; compassion) was once a common noun in Middle English but has long been extinct while ruthless, there being many who demand the description, remains popular), (2) unkempt vs kempt (kempt (neatly kept) would have been listed as extinct were it not for it finding a niche as a literary and poetic form and has also been used humorously or ironically), (3) disheveled vs sheveled (sheveled was from the Old French chevelé (having hair) and was part of mainstream vocabulary as late as the eighteenth century but, except in jocular use, is effectively non-existent in modern English) and (4) redolent vs dolent (redolent (evocative of; fragrant) was from dolent (sorrowful), from the Latin dolere (to feel pain)); redolent both outlived and enjoyed a meaning-shift from its root.

Etymologists think of these as part of the linguistic fossil record, noting there’s no single reason for the phenomenon beyond what survives being better adapted to cultural or conversational needs.  In that, these examples differ from the playful fork of back-formation which has produced (1) combobulate (a back-formation from discombobulate (to confuse or disconcert; to throw into a state of confusion) which was a humorous mock-Latin creation in mid-nineteenth century US English) (2) couth (a nineteenth century back-formation from uncouth and used as a humorous form meaning “refined”), (3) gruntled (a twentieth century back-formation meaning “happy or contented; satisfied”, the source being disgruntled (unhappy; malcontented) and most sources indicate it first appeared in print in 1926 but the most celebrated example comes from PG Wodehouse (1881–1975) who in The Code of the Woosters (1938) penned: “He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.”  Long a linguistic joke, some now take gruntled seriously but for the OED remains thus far unmoved and (4) ept (a back-formation from inept (not proficient; incompetent or not competent (there is a functional difference between those two)) which was from the Middle French inepte, from the Latin ineptus).

Literary use

In literary use, “blazon” was a technical term used by the Petrarchists (devotes of Francis Petrarch (1304-1374), a scholar & poet of the early Italian Renaissance renowned for his love poems & sonnets and regarded also as one of the earliest humanists).  Blazon in this context (a subset of what literary theorists call “catalogue verse”) was adopted because, like the structured and defined elements of heraldic symbolism, Petrarch’s poems contained what might be thought an “inventory” of verses which dwelt upon and detailed the various parts of a woman's body; a sort of catalogue of her physical attributes.  Petrarch’s approach wasn’t new because as a convention in lyric poetry it was well-known by the mid thirteenth century, most critics crediting the tradition to the writings of Geoffrey of Vinsauf, a figure about whom little is although it’s believed he was born in Normandy.  In England the Elizabethan sonneteers honed the technique as a devotional device, often, in imaginative ways, describing the bits of their mistresses they found most pleasing, a classic example a fragment from Amoretti and Epithalamion (1595), a wedding day ode by the English poet Edmund Spenser (circa 1552-1599) to his bride (Elizabeth Boyle) in 1594:

Her goodly eyes like sapphires shining bright.
Her forehead ivory white,
Her cheeks like apples which the sun hath rudded,
Her lips like cherries charming men to bite,
Her breast like to a bowl of cream uncrudded,
Her paps like lilies budded,
Her snowy neck like to a marble tower,
And all her body like a palace fair.

Two bowls of cream uncrudded.

So objectification of the female form is nothing new and the poets saw little wrong with plagiarism, most of the imagery summoned salvaged from the works of Antiquity by elegiac Roman and Alexandrian Greek poets.  Most relied for their effect on brevity, almost always a single, punchy line and none seem ever to attempt the scale of the “epic simile”.  As can be imagined, the novelty of the revival didn’t last and the lines soon were treated by readers (some of whom were fellow poets) as clichés to be parodied (a class which came to be called “contrablazon”), the London-based courtier Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586) borrowing from the Italian poet Francesco Berni (1497–1535) the trick of using terms in the style of Petrarch but “mixing them up”, thus creating an early form of body dysmorphia: Mopsa's forehead being “jacinth-like”, cheeks of “opal”, twinkling eyes “bedeckt with pearl” and lips of “sapphire blue”.

William Shakespeare (1564–1616) however saw other possibilities in the blazon and in Sonnet 130 (1609) turned the idea on its head, listing the imperfections in her body parts and characteristics yet concluding, despite all that, he anyway adored her like no other (here rendered in a more accessible English):

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
   And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
   As any she belied with false compare.

Spade & Splayd

Spade (pronounced speyd)

(1) A garden or farming tool for digging, having an iron blade adapted for pressing into the ground with the foot and a long handle commonly with a grip or crosspiece at the top, and with the blade usually narrower and flatter than that of a shovel.

(2) Some implement, piece, or part resembling this.

(3) A heavy metallic projection on the bottom of a gun trail, designed to dig into the earth to restrict backward movement of the carriage during recoil.

(4) To dig, cut, or remove with a spade.

(5) In four-suit card-games, a black figure shaped like an inverted heart and with a short stem at the cusp opposite the point; a card of the suit bearing such figures.

(6) In slang, a disparaging and offensive term for a person with black skin (based on the spade in packs of cards) (obsolete).

(7) In nautical use, a type of oar blade that is comparatively broad and short (as opposed to a spoon).

(8) A cutting tool for stripping the blubber from a whale or skin from a carcass.

(9) As “in spades”, a term synonymous with the idiomatic “laying it on with a trowel” to indicate something done to excess or in an emphatic way.

(10) As “to call a spade a spade”, to be candid; to speak plainly without resort to euphemisms.

(11) As “to do the spadework” to be thorough in preparation.

(12) A hart or stag three years old (rare).

(13) A castrated man or animal (archaic).

Pre-900: From the Middle English noun spade, from the Old English spada, spade & spadu.  It was cognate with the the Proto-Germanic spadǭ, spadô & spadō, the Dutch spade, the Old Frisian spada, the Old Saxon spado, the Old High German spato, the German Spaten, the Old Norse spathi (spade), the Hunsrik Spaad and the Ancient Greek spáthē (blade; broad, flat piece of wood).  The ultimate source was the primitive Indo-European spe-dh-, from which the Ancient Greek gained σπάθη (spáthē) (blade), Hittite išpatar (spear), Persian سپار‎ (sopār) (plow), Northern Luri ئەسپار‎ (aspār) (diging) and Central Kurdish ئەسپەر‎ (esper) & ئەسپەرە‎ (espere) (cross-piece on shaft of spade to take pressure of foot).  More recent descendants include the Scottish Gaelic spaid and the Fiji Hindi sipi.  Spade & spading are nouns & verbs, spader & spadeful are nouns, spaded is a verb and spadable & spadelike are adjectives; the noun plural is spades.

Pentagon-authorized playing cards, 2003.

The use on playing cards dates from 1590–1600, from the Italian, plural of spada the meaning of which was originally “sword”, from the Latin spatha, from the Greek spáthē.  Historically, the ace of spades was the highest card in the deck and, dating from the reign of James I (James Stuart, 1566–1625; James VI of Scotland 1567-1925 &  James I of England and Ireland 1603-1625), the law required the ace of spades to bear the insignia of the printing house.  This was to ensure the stamp duty was paid and the method to certify its payment on playing cards was a physical stamp on the highest card of the deck.  Beginning in the seventeenth century, card manufacturers started putting their identification marks on the ace of spades and it was soon an industry tradition, maintained even when the tax was no longer payable, the intricate designs now serving to protect them from illegal copying.  The ace of spades has a (somewhat dubiously gained) reputation as the death card but its become part of the folk lore attached to various organized crime operations and has been used by some militaries in psychological warfare, the US army ordering bulk supplies of ace of spades cards to scatter around although the belief the Viet Cong soldiers feared the card appears to have been untrue.

Lindsay Lohan's Royal Routine in spades in The Parent Trap (1998).

The Pentagon however still liked the imagery.  In the run-up to the 2003 invasion of Iraq, thousands of packs of cards were issued, all decorated with pictures of the Iraqi regime's most wanted figures.  The dubious honor of being the ace of spades was of course granted to President Saddam Hussein (1937–2006; president of Iraq 1979-2003) but, unfortunately, the regime's final official spokesman, Mohammed Saeed al-Sahhaf (b 1940), despite his memorable war-time press conferences (as a result of which he was dubbed "Comical Ali" (a dark allusion to Ali Hassan al-Majid al-Tikriti (1941-2010, an Iraqi military officer who became notorious for his use of chemical weapons against Kurdish civilians) or "Baghdad Bob" by the press corps) which made him the country's second best known figure, didn't rate a card.  The Pentagon deemed him not worth even a two of clubs, an act of some ingratitude in the circumstances.

Dating from the 1520s, the spatula, now familiar as a kitchen tool used to scrape the contents of bowls, was derived from the early fifteenth century medical instrument, from the Latin spatula (broad piece), diminutive of spatha (broad, flat tool or weapon) from the Ancient Greek spathe (broad flat blade (used by weavers); the erroneous form spattular appeared circa 1600.

Mid-twentieth century silver-plated cake server by Viners of Sheffield (left) & early twentieth century Danish silver-plated cake spades (right).

The cake spade was a curious alternative to the cake (or pie) server, the latter a utensil styled to conform to the size and shape of the typical domestic slice of cake or pie.  Where the cake spade differed was in the use of a regular or irregular trapezoid shape which, although it would make it difficult to maneuver something cut in the traditional, elongated triangle used with circular cakes or pies, offered advantages in stability for anything served is a squarer form including desirable stuff like lasagna: horses for courses.

Drain spade with comfort step and D-grip with fibreglass handle; available at Walmart.

Although a proliferation of modern hybrid designs for home gardeners has a little blurred the distinction, traditionally, a spade differs from a two-handed shovel mostly in the form and thickness of the blade.  The phase “to call a spade a spade" (using blunt language, call things by right names and avoid euphemisms) dates from the 1540s and was a translation of a Greek proverb (which was known to the Greek satirist and rhetorician Lucian of Samosata (Λουκιανός ό Σαμοσατεύς; circa 125-Circa 185) ten skaphen skaphen legein (to call a bowl a bowl) but Dutch Catholic theologian Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus (Erasmus of Rotterdam; 1466–1536) mis-translated, confusing the Greek skaphe (trough, bowl) for a derivative of the stem of skaptein (to dig) and the mistake has forever stuck, possibly because, at least in English, it better conveys the meaning.

Laying it on with a trowel

The trowel used by Queen Victoria when laying the foundation stone of the new buildings at the Victoria and Albert Museum, 17 May 1899, an act she managed to perform without leaving the comfort of her carriage.  A trowel is a kind of small hand-held spade, used in gardening and to apply the mortar in brick-laying.  The ornamental trowel was rendered in silver and enamel by the silversmith Nelson Dawson (1859-1941) and his wife Edith (1862-1928).

The phrase “in spades” (a suggestion of abundance) appeared first as recently as 1929 in a short story by US journalist and author Damon Runyon (1880-1946), a reference to the desirably of having many of the suit in bridge, spades the highest-ranking suit.  A similar phrase is that reported by the poet Matthew Arnold (1822-1888) and attributed to Benjamin Disraeli (1804–1881; UK prime- minister 1868 & 1874-1880) who, when discussing the techniques he adopted during his audiences with Queen Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901), advised “everyone likes flattery and when you come to royalty, you should lay it on with a trowel”.

Although Disraeli joined the Church of England at the age of twelve, he was born Jewish and one who clearly understood the value of laying flattery on “with a trowel” was Benjamin Netanyahu (b 1949; Israeli prime minister 1996-1999, 2009-2021 and since 2022) who, while doubtless noting the “No Kings” protest movement in the US, decided that for these purposes Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) should be treated like royalty.  Shortly after it was in June 2025 announced the US military had (with the now famous “bunker-buster” bombs) attacked Iranian nuclear processing facilities which the ayatollahs had concealed deep inside a convenient mountain, Mr Netanyahu appeared at the lectern, metaphorical trowel in hand:

Benjamin Netanyahu (left) & Donald Trump (right).

“Congratulations President Trump, your bold decision to target Iran's nuclear facilities with the awesome and righteous might of the United States will change history.  Israel has done truly amazing things. But in tonight's action against Iran's nuclear facilities, America has been truly unsurpassed.  It has done what no other country on earth could do. History will record that President Trump acted to deny the world's most dangerous regime, the world's most dangerous weapons.  His leadership today has created a pivot of history that can help lead the Middle East and beyond to a future of prosperity and peace.  President Trump and I often say 'peace through strength'.  First comes strength, then comes peace.  And tonight President Trump and the United States acted with a lot of strength.  President Trump, I thank you.  The people of Israel thank you.  The forces of civilization thank you.  God bless America.  God bless Israel and may God bless our unshakeable alliance, our unbreakable faith.”

Disraeli himself can scarcely ever have been as effusive in his praise of his Queen (although on occasion he was known to go on bended knee to kiss the hand) and were Mr Netanyahu able to grant Mr Trump an imperial title (as Disraeli in 1876 conferred on Victoria by making her “Empress of India”), surely he would.  In paying due tribute, the Israeli prime minister set the mark but in a post-operation press briefing conducted with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (US Air Force (USAF) General Dan Caine (b 1968)) Pete Hegseth (b 1980; US secretary of defense since 2025) rose to the occasion:

Donald Trump (left) & Pete Hegseth (right).

“For the entirety of his time in office, President Trump has consistently stated, for over 10 years, that Iran must not get a nuclear weapon, full stop.  Thanks to President Trump's bold and visionary leadership and his commitment to peace through strength, Iran's nuclear ambitions have been obliterated.  Many presidents have dreamed of delivering the final blow to Iran's nuclear program, and none could, until President Trump.  The operation President Trump planned was bold and it was brilliant, showing the world that American deterrence is back.  When this President speaks, the world should listen and the U.S. Military, we can back it up.  The most powerful military the world has ever known.  No other country on planet Earth could have conducted the operation that the chairman is going to outline this morning.  Not even close.  Just like Soleimani found out in the first term Iran found out when POTUS says 60 days that he seeks peace and negotiation, he means 60 days of peace and negotiation otherwise that nuclear program, that nuclear capability, will not exist.  He meant it.  This is not the previous administration.  President Trump said, no nukes. He seeks peace, and Iran should take that path.  He sent out a Truth last night, saying this: any retaliation by Iran against the United States of America will be met with force far greater than what was witnessed tonight, signed the President of the United States, Donald J Trump.  Iran would be smart to heed those words. He said it before, and he means it.  I want to give congratulations to our commander in chief. It was an honor to watch him lead last night and throughout and to our great American warriors on this successful operation. God bless our troops. God bless America, and we give glory to God for his providence and continue to ask for his protection.”

Donald Trump (left) and Mark Rutte.

Not wanting the White House to think NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization) couldn’t handle a trowel as well as Tel Aviv and the Pentagon, Mark Rutte (b 1967; prime minister of the Netherlands 2010-2024, secretary general of NATO since 2024) took the opportunity presented by Mr Trump’s impending arrival at the 2025 NATO Summit Defence Industry Forum to send the president a message congratulating him on the apparent success of the USAF’s strikes on Iran:

“Mr President, dear Donald, congratulations and thank you for your decisive action in Iran, that was truly extraordinary, and something no one else dared to do. It makes us all safer.  You are flying into another big success in The Hague this evening.  It was not easy but we’ve got them all signed onto 5 percent!  Donald, you have driven us to a really, really important moment for America and Europe, and the world.  You will achieve something NO American president in decades could get done.  Europe is going to pay in a BIG way, as they should, and it will be your win.  Safe travels and see you at His Majesty’s dinner!”

Mike Huckabee (left) and Donald Trump (right).

One who had his own way of sending the message was Mike Huckabee (b 1955; Baptist preacher, Republican governor of Arkansas 1996-2007, US ambassador to Israel since 2025) who earlier had told Mr Trump that while doubtlessly he was hearing advice from many sources telling him what to do about Iran: “There is only one voice that matters, HIS voice.  I believe you will hear from heaven and that voice is far more important than mine or ANYONE else’s.”  The president clearly liked the thought of God as his advisor and re-posted the message on his Truth Social platform.  Despite his critics alleging he thinks himself as above God, it’s probably more accurate to suggest Mr Trump regards Him as an equal.

Splayd (pronounced splade)

An eating utensil combining the functions of spoon, knife and fork.

1943: A constructed brand name which was not a conventionally blended word but one with a pronunciation intended to remind the speaker of the devices functional elements (spoon & blade) with the hint of "splay" (to slant, slope or spread outwards) to allude to the shape of the tines.  While the shape of the splayd was at the time unusual, the idea of utensils which combined the knife, fork & spoon had been around for generations and during World War II (1939-1945), allied soldiers enviously would admire the "light-weight and brilliantly simple" one issued to the German army.  Splayd is a noun; the noun plural is splayds.

The splayd was created by William McArthur of Sydney, Australia, with production licensed to several manufacturers, the best known of which was Viners of Sheffield.  Although several variations of the spork (a utensil combining the functionality of spoon and fork) already existed, the splayd’s innovation was the refinement of two outer fork tines, each having a hard, flat edge, suitable for cutting through soft food and they tended to have a geometric rather than a rounded bowl (usually with two longitudinal folds in the metal).  Mrs McArthur used and sold splayds in her Martha Washington Café in Sydney's Martin Place between 1943-1967 and in 1960 sold the manufacturing rights to the Stokes company which instituted some minor changes to the design, making them more easily mass-produced.

Set of six splayds plated in 24 carat gold; most splayds were rendered in 18-8 stainless steel although, especially in England, silver plate items appeared in smaller volumes.

Among some of the middle class seeking to add a layer of something to their dinner parties, splades were often seen and during their heyday in the 1950s & 1960s.  They were also a popular wedding gift and one unintended benefit was their usefulness in aged care and medical rehabilitation facilities, their use recommended for those with feeding difficulties following or during treatment of the arm.  A range was manufactured with the Selectagrip system which featured customizable handles to assist people who had difficulties gripping or manipulating standard utensils.

Snack

Snack (pronounced snak)

(1) A small portion of food or drink or a light meal, especially one eaten between regular meals.

(2) In the phrase “go snack”, to share profits or returns (mostly archaic).

(3) In slang, someone physically attractive and sexually desirable (regionally limited).

(4) To have a snack or light meal, especially between regular meals.

1300–1350: From the Middle English verb snacchen, snacche, snache & snak & noun snacche, snak & snakee (to snap at, bite, seize (as of dogs) and cognate with the Middle Dutch snacken (to snap (as of dogs), from snakken and a variant of snappen (to snap)) and the Norwegian dialect snaka (to snatch (as of animals)).  In many European languages, snack is used in the same sense though in Swedish technically it’s deverbal of snacka (to chat, to talk).  The pleasing recent noun snackette is either (1) A small shop or kiosk selling snacks or (2) smaller than usual snacks (the word often used by dieters to distinguish their snacks from the more indulgent choices of others).  The synonyms include morsel, refreshment, bite, eats, goodies, nibble, pickings & tidbit (often misused as "titbit").  Specific classes of snack include "halal snack" (one which would be approved by a ayatollah, mufti, mullah etc as conforming to the strictures of Islam) and kosher snack (one which would be approved by a rabbi (or other rabbinical authority) as conforming to the dietary rules in Judaism).  Snack is a noun, adjective & verb, snackability, snackette & snackery are nouns, snackable is a noun & adjective snacking & snacked are verbs and snacky, snackish & snakelike are adjectives; the noun plural is snacks.

Cadbury Snack.

The original Middle English verb (to bite or snap (as of dogs), probably came either from the Middle Dutch or Flemish snacken (to snatch, snap; chatter), the source of which is uncertain although one etymologist traces it to a hypothetical Germanic imitative root snu- used to form words relating to the snout or nose.  The sense of "having a bite to eat; a morsel or light meal” dates from 1807.  The noun snack (a snatch or snap (especially that of a dog) developed from the verb and emerged circa 1400.  The meaning extended to "a snappish remark" by the 1550s and "a share, portion, part" by the 1680s (hence the now archaic expression “go snacks” which meant "share, divide; have a share in").  The familiar modern meaning "a small dish morsel to eat hastily" was first noted in 1757.  The first snack bar (a place selling snacks) seems to have opened in 1923 and the similar (often smaller, kiosk-type operations) snackettes were a creation of US commerce in the 1940s.  Snack bars could be either stand-alone businesses or something operating within a stadium, theatre, cinema etc.  The commercial plural form "snax" was coined in 1942 for the vending machine trade and the term “snack table” has been in use since circa 1950.

Nestlé Salted Caramel Munchies.

Functionally (though not etymologically) related was munchies (food or snack) from 1959, the plural of the 1917 munchie (snack eaten to satisfy hunger) from the 1816 verb munch (to eat; to chew).  The familiar (to some) phrase “got the munchies” in the sense of "craving for food after smoking weed (marijuana)" was US stoner slang which was first documented in 1971 but Nestlé corporation’s Munchies weren’t an opportunistic attempt to grab the attention of weed smokers.  The chocolate Munchies pre-date the slang use of the word by over a decade, introduced in 1957 by the Mackintosh company, Nestlé acquiring the brand in 1988 when it acquired Rowntree Mackintosh and it’s not known if the slang use can be attributed to some stoner coming back from the shop with a bag-full of the snacks and telling his grateful and ravenous companions “I’ve got the Munchies” but it's such a good explanation it should be accepted as verified fact; etymologists who disagree have no soul.  Munchies were originally milk chocolates with a caramel and biscuit centre but the range has in recent years proliferated to include centres of mint fondant, chocolate fudge, cookie dough and salted caramel.  The latest variation has been to use a white chocolate shell; this described as a “limited-edition” but it’s presumed if demand exists, it will become a standard line.

Lindsay Lohan stocking up her snack stash, London, 2008.

This is use of the word "snack" in the most modern sense: pre-packaged items designed usually for one or for a small group to share.  Although most associated with "treats and indulgences" (chocolate bars the classic example), not all snacks can be classified as "junk food" and there's a whole sub-section of the industry dedicated to the production (and, perhaps more to the point, marketing) of "healthy snacks".  Critics however caution that unless it's simply a convenient packaging of a "whole food" (such as nuts which have been processed only to the extend of being shelled), the label should be studied because even food regarded in its natural state as a "healthy choice" can be less so when processed.  The markers to assess include the obvious (fat, salt, sugar) as well as chemicals and other additives, some with names only an industrial chemist would recognize.

Peter Dutton (b 1970; leader of the Australian Liberal Party 2022-2025) enjoying a “Dagwood Dog”, Brisbane Ekka (Exhibition), August 2022.  Because of the context (event, location, not sitting at a table, dish, time of day), this he would probably have regarded “a snack” rather than “a meal”.  The “Dagwood Dog” was a local variant of the “HotDog” or “Corn Dog” and Mr Dutton never denied being a Freemason.

A “snack” is by definition both (1) of a lesser quantity than a “meal” and (2) eaten at a different time than the meal (as conventionally defined: breakfast, lunch, dinner) but there are nuances.  For some, the infamous “midnight snack” (a late-night or early-morning trip to the bridge for those who awake with hanger pangs or who can’t sleep because they are so hungry) sometimes evolves, ad-hoc, into what others would call “a meal” while the curious “supper” can be anything from a “light snack” to a synonym for “dinner”.  Additionally, it’s variable by individual: what a Sumo wrestler calls a “snack” might well for a week feed a ballerina.  So there’s nothing which exactly defines the point at which a “snack” should properly be called a “meal” because it’s something geographically, culturally and individualistically deterministic.  A hot dog presented on a plate might be called “a meal” whereas one eaten while wandering around the Minnesota State Fair might be though “a snack”.  It’s tempting to imagine (at least in Western culture) that if utensils (knife, fork, chopsticks et al) are used it must be a meal and snacks are inherently finger food but the list of exceptions to that will be long.

Snack-shaming: A specific sub-genre of "fat-shaming", the modern convention is that when seen with shopping carts laden with processed snacks, fat people may be photographed and posted on social media, provided their identity adequately is concealed.

A snack for one can also be something like an apple or banana (the latter pre-packaged by nature with its own bio-degradable wrapping) and "snack" was used to describe such quick and easy "bites to eat" by the early eighteenth century, building on the slightly early use meaning "a quickly prepared meal" (as opposed to an elaborate dish) and the term became popular to describe meals carried by workers (the sandwich the exemplar) to eat on their break.  Prior to that "to snack" was to suggest one was having just part of the whole (such as a "slice of cake") and that use was from the traditional use of the word to mean "a portion" of just about anything (land, money, food etc).  As English evolved, the word came to be associated almost exclusively with food and the now rare slang use in the finance industry is the only survivor of earlier use.  It has though become an idiomatic form: (1) A person with an obviously high BMI (body mass index (ie looks fat)) can be "snack-shamed" if (1a) observed eating unhealthy snacks or (1b) with supermarket cart loaded with them; (2) A "snack-slut" is one who can't resist snacking and is used as a self-descriptor (socially acceptable and usually amusing if subject has low BMI); (3) A "snaccident" (a portmanteau word, the blend being snac(k) + (ac)cident)) refers to a snack eaten "by accident" and the validity of such excuses must be assessed on a case-by-case-basis (again, tends to be BMI-dependent); (4) A "snackery" is (4a) a place where one buys one's snacks or (4b) an informal term used to describe the place where dead fat people are sent (on the model of "knackery" (a slaughterhouse where animal carcasses unfit for human consumption or other purposes are rendered down to produce useful materials such as adhesives)); (5) A "snackette" is variously (5a) an especially small snack, (5b) a small outlet selling snacks (on the model of "luncheonette" (a small restaurant with a limited range of dishes)) or (5c) a (usually one-off) sexual partner about whom one has no future plans.               

Decalcomania

Decalcomania (pronounced dih-kal-kuh-mey-nee-uh or dih-kal-kuh-meyn-yuh)

(1) The process of transferring designs from specially prepared paper to cardboard, paper, wood, metal, china, glass etc.

(2) A design so transferred (always rare).

1864: From the French décalcomanie, the construct being décalc- (representing décalquer (to trace, transfer (a design)) the construct being dé- (in the sense of “off”) + calquer (to press) + the interfix “-o-” + -manie (–mania).  Decalcomania is a noun; the noun plural is decalcomanias (the plural in French was decalcomania).  Disappointingly, the noun decalcomaniac is non-standard.

The French prefix dé- partly was inherited from the Middle French des-, from the Old French des-, from a conflation of Latin dis- (apart) (ultimately from the primitive Indo-European dwís).  In English, the de- prefix was from the Latin dē-, from the preposition dē (of, from (the Old English æf- was a similar prefix)).  It imparted the sense of (1) reversal, undoing, removing, (2) intensification and (3) derived from; of off.  In French the dé- prefix was used to make antonyms (as un- & dis- function in English) and was partially inherited from the Old and Middle French des-, from the Latin dis- (part), the ultimate source being the primitive Indo-European dwís and partially borrowed from Latin dē-.  In English de- became a most active word-forming element, used with many verbs in some way gained French or Latin.  The frequent use in Latin as “down, down from, from, off; down to the bottom & totally (hence “completely” (intensive or completive)) came to be reflected in many English words.  As a Latin prefix it was used also to “undo” or “reverse” a verb's action; it thus came to be used as a pure privative (ie “not, do the opposite of, undo”) and that remains the predominant function as a living prefix in English such as defrost (1895 and a symbol of the new age of consumer-level refrigeration), defuse (1943 and thus obviously something encouraged by the sudden increase in live bombs in civilian areas which need the fuses to be removed to render them safe) and de-escalate (1964, one of the first linguistic contributions of the political spin related to the war in Vietnam).  In many cases, there is no substantive difference between using de- or dis- as a prefix and the choice can be simply one of stylistic preference.  Calquer (to press) was from the Italian calcare, from the Latin calcāre (to tread on; to press (that sense derived from calx (heel)).

The suffix –mania was from the Latin mania, from the Ancient Greek μανία (mania) (madness).  In modern use in psychiatry it is used to describe a state of abnormally elevated or irritable mood, arousal, and/or energy levels and as a suffix appended as required.  In general use, under the influence of the historic meaning (violent derangement of mind; madness; insanity), it’s applied to describe any “excessive or unreasonable desire; a passion or fanaticism” which can us used even of unthreatening behaviors such as “a mania for flower arranging, crochet etc”.  As a suffix, it’s often appended with the interfix -o- make pronunciation more natural.  The use of the suffix “-mania” in “decalcomania” may appear a curious use of an element in a word describing a process in graphical or decorative art given usually it’s appended to reference a kind of obsession or madness (kleptomania, bibliomania, megalomania et al) but here it’s used in a more abstract way.  The “-manie” in the French décalcomanie was used to suggest a fad or craze (the latter in the sense of something suddenly widely popular) and was not related to the way “mania” is used by mental health clinicians.  So, it was metaphorical rather than medical rather as “Tulipmania” came to be used of the seventeenth century economic bubble in the Netherlands which was centred on the supply of and demand for tulip bulbs.

TeePublic’s Lindsay Lohan decals (page one).

The noun decal (pronounced dee-kal or dih-kal) was in use by at least 1910 as a clipping of decalcomania, a process which came into vogue in France as early as the 1840s before crossing the channel, England taking up the trend in the early 1860s.  As a noun it referred to (1) the prepared paper (or other medium) bearing a image, text, design etc for transfer to another surface (wood, metal, glass, etc) or (2) the picture or design itself.  The verb (“to decal” and also as decaled or decaling) described the process of applying or transferring the image (or whatever) from the medium by decalcomania.  The noun plural is decals.  In the US, the word came to be used of adhesive stickers which could be promotional or decorative and this use is now common throughout the English speaking world.  The special use (by analogy) in computer graphics describes a texture overlaid atop another to provide additional detailing.

Variants of the transfer technique which came to be called decalcomania would for centuries have been used by artists before it became popularized in the mid-eighteenth century.  The method was simply to spread ink or paint onto a surface and, before the substances dried, it was covered with material such as such as paper, glass, or metallic foil, which, when removed, transferred the pattern which could be left in that form or embellished.  Originally the designs were deliberate but the innovation of the Surrealists was to create imagery by chance rather than conscious control of the materials.  The artistic merits of that approach can be discussed but young children have long taken to it like ducks to water, splashing colors on one side of a piece of paper and then folding it in half so, once pressed together, the shape is “mirrored”, creating what is called a “butterfly print”, something like the cards used in the Rorschach tests.

Although an ancient practice, it is French engraver Simon François Ravenet (1706–circa 1774) who is crediting with give the technique its name because he called it décalquer (from the French papier de calque (tracing paper) and this coincided with painters in Europe experimenting with ink blots to add “accidental” forms of expression into their work.  Ravenet spent years working in England (where usually he was styled Simon Francis Ravenet) and was influential in the mid century revival of engraving although it was in ceramics decalcomania first became popular although the word didn’t come into wide use until adopted by the Spanish-born French surrealist Óscar Domínguez (1906–1957).  It was perhaps the German Dadaist and Surrealist Max Ernst (1891–1976) who more than most exemplified the possibilities offered decalcomania and it was US philosopher turned artist Robert Motherwell (1915–1991) who said of him: “Like every consequential modern painter, Max Ernst has enforced his own madness on the world.”  Motherwell was of the New York School (which also included the Russian-born Mark Rothko (1903–1970), drip painter Jackson Pollock (1912-1956) and the Dutch-American Willem de Kooning (1904–1997)) so he was no stranger to the observation of madness.  Condemned by the Nazis variously as an abstractionist, modernist, Dadaist and Surrealist, Ernst fled to Paris and after the outbreak of World War II (1939-1945) he was one of a number of artistic and political figures who enjoyed the distinction of being imprisoned by both the French and the Gestapo; it was with the help of US art patron and collector Peggy Guggenheim (1898–1979) he in 1941 escaped Vichy France and fled to the US.

That “help” involved their marriage, hurriedly arranged shortly after the pair landed in New York but although in the technical sense a “marriage of convenience”, she does seem genuinely to have been fond of Ernst and some romantic element wasn’t entirely absent from their relationship although it’s acknowledged it was a “troubled” marriage. A divorce was granted in 1946 but artistically, she remained faithful, his work displayed prominently in her New York gallery (Art of This Century (1942–1947)), then the city’s most significant centre of the avant-garde.  Through this exposure, although he never quite became integrated into the (surprisingly insular) circle of abstract expressionists, Ernst not only became acquainted with the new wave of American artists but contributed also to making European modernism familiar to Americans at a time when the tastes of collectors (and many critics) remained conservative.  He was an important element in her broader mission to preserve and promote avant-garde art despite the disruption of war.  So, the relationship was part patronage and part curatorial judgment and historians haven’t dwelt too much on the extent it was part love; even after their divorce, Guggenheim continued to collect pieces by Ernst and they remain in her famous “Venice Collection” at the Palazzo Venier dei Leoni.  As a wife she would have had opinions of her husband but as a critic she also classified and never said of Ernst as she said of Pollock: “...the greatest painter since Picasso.”

Untitled (1935), Decalcomania (ink transfer) on paper by André Breton.

For Ernst, the significance of decalcomania was not its utility as a tool of production (as it would appeal to graphic artists and decal-makers) but as something which would result in a randomness to excite his imagination.  What he did was use the oil paint as it ended up on canvas after being “pressed” as merely the starting point, onto which he built elements of realism, suggesting often mythical creatures in strange, unknown places but that was just one fork of decalcomania, Georges Hugnet (1906–1974) rendering satirical images from what he found while André Breton (1896–1966 and a “multi-media” figure decades before term emerged) used the technique to hone surrealism, truly decalcomania’s native environment.

Decalcomania in psychiatry and art: Three of the ink-blot cards (top row) included by Swiss psychiatrist Hermann Rorschach (1885-1922) in his Rorschach Test (1927), a projective psychological tool in which subjects' perceptions of inkblots are recorded and then analyzed with psychological interpretation or historical statistical comparison (and now, also AI (artificial intelligence)) and three images from the Pornographic Drawing series by Cornelia Parker (bottom row).

Nor has decalcomania been abandoned by artists, English installation specialist Cornelia Parker (b 1956) producing drawings which overlaid contemporary materials onto surfaces created with the decalcomania process, the best known of which was the series Pornographic Drawing (1996) in which an inky substance extracted from pornographic film material was applied to paper, folded in half and opened again to reveal the sexualised imagery which emerged through the intervention of chance.  Although it’s speculative, had Ms Parker’s work been available and explained to the Nazi defendants at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) when they were considering the Rorschach Test cards, their responses would likely have been different.  Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi Deputy Führer 1933-1941) would have been disgusted and become taciturn while Julius Streicher (1885–1946; Nazi Gauleiter of Franconia 1929-1940) would have been stimulated to the point of excitement.

Europe after the Rain II, 1940-1942 (Circa 1941), oil on canvas by Max Ernst.

Regarded as his masterpiece, Europe after the Rain II (often sub-titled “An Abstract, Apocalyptic Landscape”) was intended to evoke feelings of despair, exhaustion, desolation and a fear of the implications of the destructive power of modern, mechanized warfare.  It was a companion work to an earlier to the earlier Europe after the Rain I, (1933), sculpted from plaster and oil on plywood in which Ernst built on a decalcomania base to render an imaginary relief map of Europe.  It was in 1933 Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) gained power in Germany.

Europe after the Rain I, (1933), oil & plaster on plywood by Max Ernst.

Even the physical base of Europe After the Rain I was a piece of surrealist symbolism, the plywood taken from the stage sets used for the film L'Âge d'or (1930) (The Age of Gold or the Golden Age depending on the translator's interpretation).  Directed by Spaniard Luis Buñuel (1900-1983), L'Âge d'or was a film focused on the sexual mores of bourgeois society and a critique of the hypocrisies and contradictions of the Roman Catholic Church's clerical establishment.  While one of France's first "sound films", it was, as was typical during what was a transitional era, told mostly with the use of title cards, the full-screen explanatory texts which appeared between scenes.

Snow Flowers (1929) oil on canvas by means of frottage & grattage by Max Ernst.

Technically, Ernst was an innovator in Decalcomania, in 1925 using the technique of frottage (laying a sheet of paper over a textured surface and rubbing it with charcoal or graphite).  The appeal of this was it imparted the quality of three dimensionality and Ernst liked textured surfaces as passages in a larger composition.  He also employed grattage (frottage’s sister technique) in which an object is placed under a piece of paper, which is then covered with a thin layer of pigment and once the pigment is scraped off, what is revealed is a colorful imprint of the object and its texture.

1969 Chrysler (Australia) VF Valiant Pacer 225 (left), 1980 Porsche 924 Turbo (centre) and cloisonné Scuderia Ferrari fender shield on 1996 Ferrari F355 Spider (right).

There was a time when decals on cars were, by some, looked down upon because they were obviously cheaper than badges made of metal.  That attitude changed for a number of reasons including their use on sexy, high-performance cars, the increasing use of decals on race cars after advertising became universally permitted after 1968 and the advent of plastic badges which, being cheaper to produce and affix, soon supplanted metal on all but the most expensive vehicles.  By the mid 1970s, even companies such as Porsche routinely applied decals and the Scuderia Ferrari fender shield, used originally on the cars run by the factory racing team, became a popular after-market accessory and within the Ferrari community, there was a clear hierarchy of respectability between thin, “stuck on” printed decals and the more substantial cloisonné items.

A video clip explaining why a Scuderia Ferrari fender shield costs US$14,000 if it's painted in the factory.

However, many of the cloisonné shields were non-authentic (ie not a factory part number), even the most expensive selling for less than US$1000 and there was no obvious way to advertise one had a genuine “made in Maranello” item.  Ferrari’s solution was to offer as a factory option a form of decalcomania, hand-painted by an artisan in a process said to take about eight hours.  To reassure its consumers (keen students of what the evil Montgomery Burns (of The Simpsons TV cartoon series) calls “price taggery”), the option is advertised (depending on the market) at around US$14,000.