Heptadecaphobia

Heptadecaphobia (pronounced hepp-tah-dech-ah-foh-bee-uh)

Fear of the number 17.

1700s: The construct was the Ancient Greek δεκαεπτά (dekaepta) (seventeen) + φόβος (phobos).  The alternative form is septadecaphobia, troubling some the purists because they regard it as a Greek-Latin mongrel, the construct being the Latin septem (seven) + deca, from the Latin decas (ten), from the Ancient Greek δεκάς (dekás) (ten) + the Ancient Greek φόβος) (phobos) (fear).  Heptadecaphobia deconstructs as hepta- “seven” + deca (ten) + phobos.  The suffix -phobia (fear of a specific thing; hate, dislike, or repression of a specific thing) was from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía) and was used to form nouns meaning fear of a specific thing (the idea of a hatred came later).  Purists use the spelling heptadekaphobia to avid the mix.

There are a variety of theories to account for the Italian superstition which had rendered 17 the national “unlucky number”.  The most accepted is that in Roman numerals 17 is XVII which, anagrammatically, translates to VIXI (Latin for “I have lived” (the first-person singular perfect active indicative of vīvō (to live; to be alive)), understood in the vernacular as “my life is over”.  That would have been ominous enough but Romans noted also that Osiris, the Egyptian god of, inter alia, life, death, the afterlife and resurrection, had died on the 17th day of the month, 17 thus obviously a “death number” to the logical Roman mind and the worst 17th days of the month were those which coincided with a full moon, an intensifier in the same sense that in the West the conjunction leading to a Friday the 13th is so threatening.  Mashing up the numerical superstitions, that 17 is an “unlucky number” shouldn’t be surprising because it’s the sum of 13 + 4, the latter being the most dreaded number in much of East Asia.

Just because a “fear of a number” is listed somewhere as a “phobia” doesn’t mean the condition has much of a clinical history or even that a single case is to be found in the literature; many may have been coined just for linguistic fun and students in classics departments have been set assessment questions like “In Greek, construct the word meaning “fear of the number 71” (the correct answer being “hebdomekontahenophobia”).  Some are well documented such as tetraphobia (fear of 4) which is so prevalent in East Asia it compelled BMW to revise the release strategy of the “4 Series” cars and triskaidekaphobia (fear of 13) which has such a history in the West it’s common still for hotels not to have a thirteenth floor or rooms which include “13”, something which in the pre-digital age was a charming quirk but when things were computerized added a needless complication.  The use of the actual number is important because in such a hotel the “14^th” floor is of course the 13^th (in the architectural sense) but there’s little to suggest there’s ever been resistance from guests being allocated room 1414.

Some number phobias are quite specific: Rooted in the folklore of Australian cricket is a supposed association of the number 87 with something bad (typically a batter being dismissed) although it seems purely anecdotal and more than one statistical analysis (cricket is all about numbers) has concluded there's nothing “of statistical significance” to be found and there’s little to suggest players take the matter seriously.  One English umpire famously had “a routine” associated with the score reaching a “repunit” (a portmanteau (or blended) word, the construct being re(eated) +‎ unit) (eg 111, 222, 333 etc) but that was more fetish than phobia.

No fear of 17: Some Lindsay Lohan Seventeen magazine covers.  Targeted at the female market (age rage 12-18), the US edition of Seventeen is now predominately an on-line publication, printed only as irregular "special, stand-alone issues" but a number of editions in India and the Far East continue in the traditional format. 

Other illustrative number phobias include oudenophobia (fear of 0), (trypophobia (fear of holes) said to sometimes be the companion condition), henophobia (fear of 1) (which compels sufferer to avoid being associated with “doing something once”, being the “first in the group” etc) , heptaphobia (fear of 7) (cross-culturally, a number also with many positive associations), eikosiheptaphobia (fear of 27) (a pop-culture thing which arose in the early 1970s when a number of rock stars died messy, drug-related deaths at 27), tessarakontadyophobia (fear of 42) (which may have spiked in patients after the publication of Douglas Adams’ (1952–2001) Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992), enenekontenneaphobia (fear of 99) (thought not related to the Get Smart TV series of the 1960s), tetrakosioeikosiphobia (fear of 420) (the syndrome restricted presumably to weed-smokers in the US), the well-documented hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia (fear of 666), heftakosioitessarakontaheptaphobia (fear of 747) (though with the withdrawal from passenger service of the tough, reliable (four engines and made of metal) Boeing 747 and their replacement by twin-engined machines made increasingly with composites and packed with lithium-ion batteries, a more common fear may be “not flying on a 747”).  Enniakosioihendecaphobia (fear of 911) (presumably, in the US, sometimes a co-morbidity with tetrakosioeikosiphobia or suffered by those with a bad experience with a pre-modern Porsche 911 which, in inexpert hands, could behave as one would expect of a very powerful Volkswagen Beetle) and the rare condition nongentiseptuagintatrestrillionsescentiquinquagintanovemmiliacentumtredecimdeciesoctingentivigintiquattuormiliatrecentiphobia (fear of 973,659,113,824,315) (that one created presumably by someone determined to prove it could be done). There’s also compustitusnumerophobia (fear of composite numbers), meganumerophobia (fear of large numbers), imparnumerophobia (fear of odd numbers), omalonumerophobia (fear of even numbers), piphobia (fear of pi), phiphobia (fear of the golden ratio), primonumerophobia (fear of prime numbers), paranumerophobia (fear of irrational numbers), neganumerophobia (fear of negative numbers) and decadisophobia (fear of decimals).  The marvellous Wiki Fandom site and The Phobia List are among the internet’s best curated collection of phobias.

The only one which debatably can’t exist is neonumerophobia (fear of new numbers) because, given the nature of infinity, there can be no “new numbers” although, subjectively, a number could be “new” to an individual so there may be a need.  Sceptical though mathematicians are likely to be, the notion of the “new number” has (in various ways) been explored in fiction including by science fiction (SF or SciFi) author & engineer Robert A Heinlein (1907–1988) in The Number of the Beast (1980), written during his “later period”.  More challenging was Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by English schoolmaster & Anglican priest Edwin Abbott Abbott (1838–1926) which was published under the pseudonym “A Square”, the layer of irony in that choice revealed as the protagonist begins to explore dimensions beyond his two-dimensional world (in Victorian England).  Feminists note also Ursula K Le Guin’s (1929–2018) The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) in which was created an entirely new numerical system of “genderless" numbers”.  That would induce fear in many.

Lindsay Lohan's cover of Edge of Seventeen appeared on the album A Little More Personal (2005).  Written by Stevie Nicks (b 1948), it appeared originally on her debut solo studio album Bella Donna (1981).

In entymology, there are insects with no fear of the number 17.  In the US, the so-called “periodical cicadas” (like those of the genus Magicicada) exist in a 17 year life cycle, something thought to confer a number of evolutionary advantages, all tied directly to the unique timing of their mass emergence: (1) The predator satiation strategy: The creatures emerge in massive numbers (in the billions), their sheer volume meaning it’s physically impossible for predators (both small mammals & birds) to eat enough of them to threaten the survival of the species. (2) Prime number cycles: Insects are presumed to be unaware of the nature of prime numbers but 17 is a prime number and there are also periodic cicadas with a 13 year cycle.  The 13 (Brood XIX) & 17-year (Brood X) periodic cicadas do sometimes emerge in the same season but, being prime numbers, it’s a rare event, the numbers' least common multiple (LCM) being 221 years; the last time the two cicadas emerged together was in 1868 and the next such even is thus expected in 2089.  The infrequency in overlap helps maintain the effectiveness of the predator avoidance strategies, the predators typically having shorter (2-year, 5-year etc) cycles which don’t synchronize with the cicadas' emergence, reducing chances a predator will evolve to specialize in feeding on periodical cicadas. (3) Avoidance of Climate Variability: By remaining underground for 17 years, historically, periodical cicadas avoided frequent climate changes or short-term ecological disasters like droughts or forest fires. The long underground nymph stage also allows them to feed consistently over many years and emerge when the environment is more favorable for reproduction.  Etymologists and biological statisticians are modelling scenarios under which various types of accelerated climate change are being studied to try to understand how the periodic cicadas (which evolved under “natural” climate change) may be affected. (4) Genetic Isolation: Historically, the unusually extended period between emergences has isolated different broods of cicadas, reducing interbreeding and promoting genetic diversity over time, helping to maintain healthy populations over multiple life-cycles.

In automotive manufacturing, there was nothing unusual about unique models being produced for the Italian domestic market, the most common trick being versions with engines displacing less than 2.0 litres to take advantage of the substantially lower tax regime imposed below that mark.  Thus Ferrari (1975-1981) and Lamborghini (1974-1977) made available 2.0 litre V8s (usually variously in 2.5 & 3.0 litre displacements), Maserati a 2.0 V6 (a 3.0 in the Maserati Merak (1972-1983) although it appeared in 2.7 & 3.0 litre form in the intriguing but doomed Citroën SM (1970-1975)) and Mercedes-Benz created a number of one-off 2.0 litre models in the W124 range (1974-1977) exclusive to the Italian domestic market (although an unrelated series of 2.0 litre cars was also sold in India).

US advertisement for the Renault 17 (1974), the name Gordini adopted as a "re-brand" of the top-of-the-range 17TS,  Gordini was a French sports car producer and tuning house, absorbed by Renault in 1968, the name from time-to-time used for high-performance variants of various Renault models.

One special change for the Italian market was a nod to the national heptadecaphobia, the car known in the rest of the world (RoW) as the Renault 17 (1971-1979) sold in Italy as the R177.  For the 17, Renault took the approach which had delivered great profits: use the underpinnings of mundane mass-produced family cars with a sexy new body draped atop.  Thus in the US the Ford Falcon begat the Mustang and in Europe Ford got the Capri from the Taunus/Cortina duo.  Opel’s swoopy GT was (most improbably) underneath just a Kadett.  It wasn’t only the mass-market operators which used the technique because in the mid 1950s, Mercedes-Benz understood the appeal of the style of the 300 SL (W198, 1954-1957) was limited by the high price which was a product of the exotic engineering (the space-frame, gullwing doors, dry sump and the then novel mechanical fuel-injection), the solution being to re-purpose the platform of the W120, the small, austere sedan which helped the company restore its fortunes in the post-war years before the Wirtschaftswunder (economic miracle) was celebrated in 1959 with the exuberance of the Heckflosse (tailfin) cars (1959-1968).  On the W120 platform was built the 190 SL (W121, 1955-1963), an elegant (it not especially rapid) little roadster which quickly became a trans-Atlantic favourite, particularly among what used to be called the “women’s market”.

Only in Italy: The Renault 177.

Using the same formula, the Renault 17 was built on the underpinnings of the Renault 12, a remarkably durable platform, introduced in 1979 and, in one form or another, manufactured or assembled in more than a dozen countries, the last not produced until 2006.  Like the Ford Capri, the 17 was relatively cheap to develop because so much was merely re-purposed but for a variety of reasons, it never managed to come close to match the sales of the wildly successful Ford, front wheel drive (FWD) not then accepted as something “sporty” and Renault's implementation on the 17 was never adaptable to the new understanding of the concept validated by FWD machines such Volkswagen’s Sirocco GTi & Golf GTi.  Like most of the world, the Italians never warmed to the 17 but presumably the reception would have been even more muted had not, in deference to the national superstition about the number 17, the name been changed to “Renault 177”, the cheaper companion model continuing to use the RoW label: Renault 15.

Zoozve

Zoozve (pronounced zooz-vee or zooz-vay)

The orthodox clipping of 524522 Zoozve (provisional designation 2002 VE68), a temporary quasi-satellite (or quasi-moon and technically an asteroid) of the planet Venus.

2024 (sort of): From an accidental coining by a graphic artist preparing a rendering of a stylized poster of the solar system, the asteroid's provisional designation (2002VE) misread and written as ZOOZVE (the text of the descriptors all in upper case).  Another suggested pronunciation is jeuj-vey (as in zhuzh) but zooz-vee & zooz-vay seem more mnemonic.  Zoozve is a proper noun; the noun plural is zoozves.  Although Zoozve is a unique object, in the solar system, doubtlessly there are many more quasi-moons and zoozve (with an initial lower case) may emerge as the generic term, thus the need for the noun plural.

The Poster.

Zoozve first came to wider public attention early in 2024 when the tale was revealed in a podcast produced by Latif Nasser (b 1986) of New York public radio station WNYC’s RadioLab.  The story was triggered when he first noticed a detail on a poster of the solar system: a moon of Venus called Zoozve.  There are many moons in the solar system but Dr Nasser holds a PhD from Harvard's History of Science department and knew the astronomical orthodoxy was that Venus “has no moons”, something some rapid research confirmed so he contacted Elizabeth Landau (b 1975), a member of the US National Aeronautics and Space Administration's (NASA) communications, his not unreasonable assumption being if anyone should know about what’s in space, it was the folk at NASA.  After consulting the charts, Ms Landau concluded there was such an object but that it wasn’t a moon; it was a quasi-moon which, discovered in 2002, after 2004 when its dual orbits were first tracked, enjoyed the distinction of being the first quasi-moon ever found.  What appeared on the poster as “Zoozve” was the graphic artist’s misreading of “2002VE”, a designation typical of the naming conventions used in astronomy.

Poster close-up.

The distinction between a moon and a quasi moon is the former have “a primary anchor”: Although the Earth’s Moon of course revolves around the Sun as well as this planet, the solar relationship is a by-product of Earth’s gravitational pull.  A quasi-moon is one with two distinct paths of rotation, one around its (temporary) planet and one around the Sun.  There are implications in that beyond the cosmic phenomenon being a scientific curiosity: quasi-moons eventually will become detached (astronomers seem to like “flung-off” which is more illustrative) which means they could become objects which could crash into Earth.  Zoozve is some 240m (785 feet) in diameter and the conventional calculation is an impact with Earth would release energy equivalent to some 69,000 A-bombs with the yield (15 kilotons of TNT) of the device dropped on Hiroshima in 1945.  Zoozve is in the last few hundred years of its eight millennia-odd attachment to Venus and modelling suggests it is unlikely to hit earth when it does become adrift but such calculations are acknowledged to be “ultimately imprecise” and, as mentioned, there are doubtless many more; the universe is a violent and destructive place.  Quasi-moons had been speculated to exist for almost a century before 2002VE was named and since then it’s been discovered Earth has a few of its own.

2002VE was discovered in 2002 by Brian Skiff (b 1953), a research scientist at Arizona’s Lowell Observatory in Arizona and because he made no attempt to give it a “proper” name, it was allocated the procedural 2002VE86 (“proper” names granted usually only after an object has attracted sufficient interest to generate academic papers).  Dr Nasser however was so charmed by the tale of 2002VE that he submitted an application to the Working Group Small Bodies Nomenclature (WGSBN) of the International Astronomical Union (IAU) the committee responsible for assigning names to minor planets and comets.  What he wanted was for 2002VE to become Zoozve but it transpired there were naming "rules" including:

(1) 16 characters or less in length

(2) Preferably one word

(3) Pronounceable (in some language)

(4) Non-offensive

(5) Not too similar to an existing name of a Minor Planet or natural Planetary satellite.

(6) The names of individuals or events principally known for political or military activities are unsuitable until 100 years after the death of the individual or the occurrence of the event.

(7) Names of pet animals are discouraged

(8) Names of a purely or principally commercial nature are not allowed.

(9) Objects that approach or cross Earth's orbit (so called Near Earth Asteroids) are generally given mythological names.

Mar-a-Lago, Palm Beach, Florida.

Because of 2002VE’s proximity to earth, the need to have the name rooted in mythology was obviously the most onerous hurdle to overcome and it is a common-sense stipulation, imposed to avoid controversy on Earth: Imagine the fuss if quasi-moon 524522 Lindsay Lohan ended up crashing into Trump Tower or Mar-a-Lago?  There would be litigation.

Added to which, the IAU have the reputation of being a bunch of humorless cosmic clerks, something like the Vogons ("...not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous.") in Douglas Adams’ (1952–2001) Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992): they were the crew who decided Pluto should no longer be thought a planet because of some tiresome technical distinction.  Although lacking the lovely rings of Saturn (a feature shared on a smaller scale by Jupiter, Uranus & Neptune), Pluto is the most charming of all because it’s so far away; desolate, lonely and cold, it's the solar system’s emo.  If for no other reason, it should be a planet in tribute to the scientists who, for decades during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, calculated possible positions and hunted for the elusive orb.  In an example of Donald Rumsfeld's (1932–2021; US secretary of defense 1975-1977 & 2001-2006) “unknown knowns”, the proof was actually obtained as early as 1915 but it wasn’t until 1930 that was realized.  In an indication of just how far away Pluto lies, since the 1840s when equations based on Newtonian mechanics were first used to predict the position of the then “undiscovered” planet, it has yet to complete even one orbit of the Sun, one Plutonian year being 247.68 years long.  Unromantic, the IAU remains unmoved.  Still, there have been exceptions to the rule and it emerged some of the “rules” are actually “guidelines” and the WGSBN was so impressed by the serendipitous tale that a majority of the committee’s eleven voting members cast their ballots for Zoozve so, on 5 February 2024, Radiolab was able to announce the IAU officially had re-designated 2002VE as 524522 Zoozve.

Truly unique words (in the sense of one-off spellings) happen for many reasons.  Those intended for global use as trademarked company or product names really do have to be unique and sufficient different to just about every other word to ensure there are no legal maneuverings contesting their registration which is how we ended up with “Optus” (used since 1991 by the Australian telecommunications company (TelCo) which is now a subsidiary of Singapore-based TelCo Singtel) and Stellantis (a conglomerate created by the merger of the Italian Fiat Chrysler Automobiles (FCA) and the French PSA Group (comprising the Peugeot, Citroën, DS, Opel and Vauxhall brands)).  While on first hearing, to many, Optus and Stellantis probably sounded like mistakes, some words really were just the result of error.  Apron (an article of clothing worn over the front of the torso and at least part of the legs and donned by (1) cooks, butchers and others as protection from spills and (2) Freemasons as part of their regalia worn during their cultish rituals was from the Middle English naperoun & napron, from the Old French napperon, a diminutive of nappe (tablecloth), from the Latin mappa (napkin).  “Napron” became “apron” by the process of linguistic assimilation (ie “a napron” becoming “apron” because of the evolution of pronunciation.

Some become legion as accidental coinings only for it to turn out there’s a pedigree.  Warren Harding (1865-1921; US President 1921-1923), during the 1920 presidential campaign, used “normalcy” instead of “normality” after a George W Bush-like (George XLIII, b 1946; US president 2001-2009) mangling of the written text, something understandable because the section with the offending word was almost aggressively alliterative:

“America’s present need is not heroics, but healing; not nostrums, but normalcy; not revolution, but restoration; not agitation, but adjustment; not surgery, but serenity; not the dramatic, but the dispassionate; not experiment, but equipoise; not submergence in internationality, but sustainment in triumphant nationality.”

In saying "normalcy" he may have misspoken or perhaps Harding liked the word; questioned afterwards he said he found it in a dictionary which probably was true although whether his discovery came before or after the speech wasn't explored.  Although Harding’s choice was much-derided at the time, normalcy had certainly existed since at least 1857, originally as a technical term from geometry meaning the "mathematical condition of being at right angles, state or fact of being normal in geometry" but subsequently it had appeared in print as a synonym of normality on several occasions.  Still, it was hardly in general use though Harding gave it a boost and it’s not since gone extinct, now with little complaint except from the most linguistically fastidious who insist the use in geometry remains the only meaning and all subsequent uses are mistakes.

Simile, Metaphor & Analogy

Simile (pronounced sim-uh-lee)

(1) A figure of speech expressing the resemblance of one thing to another of a different category usually introduced by as or like.

(2) An instance of such a figure of speech or a use of words exemplifying it.

1393: From the Middle English simile, from the Latin simile (a like thing; a comparison, likeness, parallel), neuter of similis (like, resembling, of the same kind).  The antonym is dissimile and the plural similes or similia although the latter, the original Latin form, is now so rare its use would probably only confuse.  Apart from its use as a literary device, the word was one most familiar as the source of the “fax” machine, originally the telefacsimile and there was a “radio facsimile” service as early as the 1920s whereby images could be transmitted over long-distance using radio waves, the early adopters newspapers and the military.

The simile is figure of speech in which one thing is explicitly compared to another, usually using “like” or “as”; both things must be mentioned and the comparison directly stated.  For literary effect, the two things compared should be thought so different as to not usually appear in the same sentence and the comparison must directly be stated.  Dr Johnson (Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)) thought a simile “…to be perfect, must both illustrate and ennoble the subject." but many long ago became clichéd and far removed from nobility.

It went through me like an armor-piercing shell.
Slept like a log.
Storm in a tea cup.
Blind as a bat.
Dead as a dodo.
Deaf as a post.

Metaphor (pronounced met-uh-fawr)

(1) A figure of speech in which a term or phrase is applied to something to which it is not literally applicable in order to suggest a resemblance.

(2) Something used, or regarded as being used, to represent something else; emblem; symbol.

1525-1535:  From the Middle French métaphore & the (thirteenth century) Old French metafore from the Latin metaphora, from the Ancient Greek μεταφορά (metaphorá) (a transfer, especially of the sense of one word to a different word; literally "a carrying over”), from μεταφέρω (metaphérō) (I transfer; I apply; I carry over; change, alter; to use a word in a strange sense), the construct being μετά (metá) (with; across; after; over) + φέρω (phérō, pherein) (to carry, bear) from the primitive Indo-European root bher- (to carry; to bear children).  The plural was methaphoris.  In Antiquity, for a writer to be described in Greek as metaphorikos meant they were "apt at metaphors”, a skill highly regarded: “It is a great thing, indeed, to make a proper use of the poetical forms, as also of compounds and strange words. But the greatest thing by far is to be a master of metaphor. It is the one thing that cannot be learnt from others; and it is also a sign of genius, since a good metaphor implies an intuitive perception of the similarity in dissimilars" (Aristotle (384-322 BC), Poetics (circa 335 BC)).

The words metaphor, simile and analogy are often used interchangeably and, at the margins, there is a bit of overlap, a simile being a type of metaphor but the distinctions exist.  A metaphor is a figure of figure of speech by which a characteristic of one object is assigned to another, different but resembling it or analogous to it; comparison by transference of a descriptive word or phrase.  It’s important to note a metaphor is technically not an element or argument, merely a device to make a point more effective or better understood.  It’s the use of a word or phrase to refer to something other than its literal meaning, invoking an implicit similarity between the thing described and what is denoted by the word or phrase.  It has certain technical uses too such as the recycling or trashcan icons in the graphical user interfaces (GUI) on computer desktops (a metaphor in itself).  The most commonly used derivatives are metaphorically & metaphorical but in literary criticism and the weird world of deconstructionism, there’s the dead metaphor, the extended metaphor, the metaphorical extension, the mysterious conceptual metaphor and the odd references to metaphoricians and their metaphorization.  Within the discipline, the sub-field of categorization is metaphorology, the body of work of those who metaphorize.  

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,--
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Richard II (circa 1594), Act 2 scene 1.

Analogy (pronounced uh-nal-uh-jee)

(1) A similarity between like features of two things, on which a comparison may be based:

(2) A similarity or comparability.

(3) In biology, an analogous relationship; a relationship of resemblance or equivalence between two situations, people, or objects, especially when used as a basis for explanation or extrapolation.

(4) In linguistics, the process by which words or phrases are created or re-formed according to existing patterns in the language.

(5) In logic a form of reasoning in which one thing is inferred to be similar to another thing in a certain respect, on the basis of the known similarity between the things in other respects.

(6) In geometry, the proportion or the equality of ratios.

(7) In grammar, the correspondence of a word or phrase with the genius of a language, as learned from the manner in which its words and phrases are ordinarily formed; similarity of derivative or inflectional processes.

1530-1540: From the Old French analogie, from the Latin analogia, from the Ancient Greek ἀναλογία (analogía), (ratio or proportion) the construct being ἀνά (aná) (upon; according to) + λόγος (logos) (ratio; word; speech, reckoning), from the primitive Indo-European root leg- (to collect, to gather (with derivatives meaning “to speak; to pick out words”).  It was originally a term from mathematics given a wider sense by Plato who extended it to logic (which became essentially “an argument from the similarity of things in some ways inferring their similarity in others”.  The meaning “partial agreement, likeness or proportion between things” fates from the 1540s and by the 1580s was common in mathematics; by the early seventeenth century it was in general English use.  The plural is analogies and the derived forms include the adjective analogical and the verbs analogize & analogized.  In critical discourse there’s the “false analogy” and the rare disanalogy.

An analogy is a comparison in which an idea or a thing is compared to another thing that is quite different from it, aiming to explain the idea or thing by comparing it to something that is familiar.  Further to confuse, metaphors and similes are tools used to draw an analogy so an analogy can be more extensive and elaborate than either a simile or a metaphor.

The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of Night,

As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), The Day Is Done (1844).

“They crowded very close about him, with their hands always on him in a careful, caressing grip, as though all the while feeling him to make sure he was there. It was like men handling a fish which is still alive and may jump back into the water.”

George Orwell (1903-1950), A Hanging (1931).

The Mean Girls mall scene, at the water hole in the jungle clearing where the “animals gather when on heat”.

Similes, metaphors & analogies are used frequently as devices in fiction including in Paramount Production’s Mean Girls (2004) and the similes were quite brutish including “You smell like a baby prostitute”; “She's like a Martian”; & “Your face smells like peppermint”.  The metaphors were obvious (this was a teen comedy) but worked well.  The “Plastics” implied the notion of things artificial, superficial, and shiny on the outside but hollow inside while “Social Suicide” would to the audience have been more familiar still.  The idea of the “Queen Bee” (a metaphorical position of one individual as the centre of the hive (school) around which all dynamics and activities revolve) was one of several zoological references.  The idea of it being “…like a jungle in here” was a variation of the familiar metaphorical device of comparing modern urban environments (the “concrete jungle” the best known) with a jungle and in Mean Girls stylized depictions of wild animals do appear, the school’s mascot a lion, a link to the protagonist having come from the African savanna.  There was also the use of a malapropism in the analogy “It's like I have ESPN or something”, the novelty being it used an incorrect abbreviation rather than a word.  The Mean Girls script is not the place to search for literary subtleties.

Of Pluto

The New Zealand physicist Lord Rutherford (1871-1937), who first split the atom (1932), explained its structure by drawing an analogy with our solar system.  Rutherford always regarded physics as the “only true, pure science” while other disciplines were just expressions of the properties or applications of the theories of physics.  In 1908, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Chemistry “…for his investigations into the disintegration of the elements, and the chemistry of radioactive substances.”  It was said he was amused by the joke.

This image includes Pluto as a planet.  Historically, the Galileian satellites of Jupiter were initially called satellite planets but were later reclassified along with the Moon.  The first observed asteroids were also considered planets, but were reclassified when became apparent how many there were, crossing each other's orbits, in a zone where only a single planet had been expected.   Pluto was found where an outer planet had been expected but doubts were soon raised about its status because (1) it was found to cross Neptune's orbit and (2) was much smaller than had been the expectation.  The debate about the status of Pluto went on for decades after its discovery in 1930 and the pro-planet faction may have become complacent, thinking that because Pluto had always been a planet, it would forever be thus but, after seventy-six years in the textbooks as a planet, the International Astronomical Union (IAU) in 2006 voted to re-classify Pluto as a dwarf planet on the basis that the icy orb failed to meet a set of criteria which the IAU claimed had for decades been accepted science.

To be a planet, the IAU noted, the body must (1) orbit a star, (2) be sufficiently massive to it pull itself into a sphere under its own gravity and (3), “clear its neighbourhood” of debris and other celestial bodies, proving it has gravitational dominance (cosmic hegemony in its sphere of influence by political analogy) in its little bit of the solar system.  Pluto fails the third test.  Because it orbits in the Kuiper Belt (a massive ring of asteroids and planetoids that stretches beyond the orbit of Neptune), Pluto is surrounded by thousands of other celestial bodies and chunks of debris, each exerting its own gravity.  Pluto is thus not the gravitationally dominant object in its neighborhood and therefore, not a planet and but a dwarf (a sort of better class of asteroid).  The IAU’s action had been prompted by the discovery in the Kuiper Belt of a body larger than Pluto yet still not meeting the criteria for planethood.  Feeling the need to draw a line in the sky, the IAU dumped Pluto.

However #plutoisaplanet is a thing and Pluto’s supporters have a website, arguing that while it’s universally accepted a planet should be spherical and orbit the Sun, the “clearing the neighbourhood” rule is arbitrary, having appeared only in a single paper published in 1801.  The history is certainly muddied, Galileo having described the moons of Jupiter as planets and there are plenty of other more recent precedents to suggest the definitional consensus has bounced around a bit and there are even extremists really to accept the implications of loosening the rules such as the moons of Earth, Jupiter and Saturn becoming planets.  Most however just want Pluto restored.

The most compelling argument however is that the IAU are a bunch of humorless cosmological clerks, something like the Vogons (“…not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous.”) in Douglas Adams' (1952–2001) Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992) and that Pluto should be restored to planethood because of the romance of the tale.  Although lacking the lovely rings of Saturn (a feature shared on a smaller scale by Jupiter, Uranus & Neptune), Pluto is the most charming of all because it’s so far away; desolate, lonely and cold, it's the solar system’s emo.  If for no other reason, it should be a planet in tribute to the scientists who, for decades during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, calculated possible positions and hunted for the elusive orb.  In an example of Donald Rumsfeld's (1932–2021; US secretary of defense 1975-1977 & 2001-2006) “unknown knowns”, the proof was actually obtained as early as 1915 but it wasn’t until 1930 that was realized.  In an indication of just how far away Pluto lies, since the 1840s when equations based on Newtonian mechanics were first used to predict the position of the then “undiscovered” planet, it has yet to complete even one orbit of the Sun, one Plutonian year being 247.68 years long.

Indigo

Indigo (pronounced in-di-goh)

(1) A blue dye obtained from various plants, especially of the genus Indigofera, or manufactured synthetically.

(2) A descriptor of color indigo, widely defined commercially and ranging from a deep violet blue to a dark, greyish blue (sometimes as "indigo blue").

(3) In technical use, as indigo blue (also casually referred to as indigotin or indigo), a dark-blue, water-insoluble, crystalline powder (C₁₆H₁₀N₂O₂), having a bronze-like luster, the essential coloring principle of which is contained along with other substances in the dye indigo and which can be produced synthetically.

(4) Any of numerous hairy plants belonging to the genus Indigofera, of the legume family, having pinnate leaves and clusters of usually red or purple flowers (the best-known of the plants including Amorpha (false indigo), Baptisia (wild indigo), and Psorothamnus and Dalea (indigo bush)).

(5) In zoology, as the Eastern indigo snake, the common name for the Drymarchon couperi.

(6) In zoology, as the indigobird (or indigo bird), any of various African passerine birds of the family Viduidae.

(7) A (rarely used) female given name.

1550s: The spelling change from indico to indigo happened in the 1550s, used originally in the sense of the “blue powder obtained from certain plants and used as a dye”.  Indigo was from the Spanish indico and the Portuguese endego (the Dutch indigo exclusively was from Portuguese), all from the Latin indicum (indigo), from the Ancient Greek ἰνδικόν (indikón) (Indian blue dye (literally “Indian substance”)), a neuter of indikos (Indian), from the Indic Ἰνδία (Indía).  Indic is a subgroup of the Indo-Iranian branch of Indo-European languages that includes Sanskrit, Hindi, Urdu, Bengali, and many other languages of India, Pakistan, and Sri Lanka; Indo-Aryan.  It replaced the late thirteenth century Middle English ynde, from the thirteenth century Old French inde (indigo; blue, violet), again from the Latin indicum; the earlier name in Mediterranean languages was annil or anil.  In the magical-realist novel Sassafrass, Cypress & Indigo (1982) by African American feminist Ntozake Shange (1948–2018), the name of one protagonist is Indigo and it continues to be used as a given name for females.  Indigo is a noun & adjective and indigotic is an adjective; the noun plural is indigos or indigoes.

Sir Issac Newton, light and the "two prism experiment" 

As used to refer to “the color of indigo”, use dates from the 1620s and in 1704 Sir Isaac Newton (1642–1727) adopted indigo as the name for the darkest of the two blues on his spectrum of the visible colors of light.  Newton identified seven colors in the spectrum of light (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet) and although he was a great figure of science and the Enlightenment, he was also an alchemist and theologian who published notable works of Biblical scholarship, something which may account for the choice of seven, that number being of some significance in scripture.  By objective analysis, there are probably six colors in the spectrum, but Newton’s world view which attributed something mystical to the number demanded there be seven.  He decided in advance light was made of seven colors but his experimental method to vindicate this theory of differential refraction was sound.  The orthodox view of the time suggested a prism acted on any incident light to add colour; Newton wished to prove what was really happening was a process of separation refraction.  For this, he used two prisms.  The first produced the full spectrum of colors and from this Newton isolated narrow beams of light of a single colour, directing them at the second prism, finding that for all colors, there was no further change as the beam passed through the second prism: “When any one sort of Rays hath been well parted from those of other kinds, it hath afterwards obstinately retained its colour, not with standing my utmost endeavours to change it.”

Lindsay Lohan shopping at Indigo Seas, North Robertson Boulevard, Los Angeles, February 2009.  Most fashion houses would regard her dress’s blue as “too blue” to be within the indigo range but to illustrate how far (in commercial use) indigo can travel from blue, some would call this "Spanish indigo" (Hex: #003C92; RGB: 0, 60, 148).

Although some use extends even to grey, generally, indigo is a range of bluish-purples between blue and violet in the color wheel and such is the reverence for Newton it’s considered still one of the seven spectral colors (indigo’s hex code is #4B0082),  In this, although it may visually be dubious, indigo has fared better than the unfortunate Pluto, the International Astronomical Union (IAU) voting in 2006 to re-classify Pluto as a dwarf planet on the basis the icy orb failed to meet a set of criteria which the IAU claimed had been accepted for decades.  The IAU are a bunch of humorless cosmic clerks, something like the Vogons ("...not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous.") in Douglas Adams' (1952–2001) Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992) and, not affected by romantic tales, have refused to restore Pluto to planethood, leaving it desolate, lonely and cold; it's the solar system’s emo.  Indigo place on the spectrum seems however secure and according to Canva (the internet’s authority on colors), it’s the color of devotion, wisdom, justice, and higher knowledge; tied to intuition and what is not seen; it is also considered spiritual.  More prosaically, Canva list indigo as hexadecimal #4b0082, with RGB values of Red: 29.4, Green: 0, Blue: 51 and CMYK values of Cyan: 0.42, Magenta: 1, Yellow: 0, Black (K):0.49.  The decimal value is 4915330.  It has a hue angle of 274.6 degrees, a saturation of 100% and a lightness of 25.5%. #4b0082 color hex could be obtained by blending #9600ff with #000005. Closest websafe color is: #330099.

Darker then violet: Canva's example of a classic indigo.

Peculiar

Peculiar (pronounced pi-kyool-yer)

(1) Something thought strange, queer, odd, eccentric, bizarre.

(2) Something uncommon or unusual.

(3) Distinctive in nature or character from others.

(4) Belonging characteristically to something.

(5) Belonging exclusively to some person, group, or thing.

(6) In astronomy, designating a star or galaxy with special properties that deviates from others of its spectral type or galaxy class.

(7) A property or privilege belonging exclusively or characteristically to a person.

(8) In the Church of England, a particular parish or church that is exempted from the jurisdiction of the ordinary or bishop in whose diocese it lies and is governed by another.

(9) In printing and typesetting, special characters not generally included in standard type fonts, as phonetic symbols, mathematical symbols etc (such as ±§¿).  Also called arbitraries.

1400-1450: From the late Middle English, from the Old French peculiaire and directly from the Latin pecūliāris (as one's own property), from pecūlium (private property (literally "property in cattle") a derivative of pecū (flock, farm animals) from pecus (cattle) (in Antiquity, the ownership of cattle was an important form of wealth).  The meaning “unusual” dates from circa 1600, a development of the earlier idiom “distinguished or special”.  The meaning "unusual, uncommon; odd" emerged by circa 1600, an evolution from the earlier "distinguished, special, particular, select" which was in use by at least the 1580s.  The euphemistic phrase "peculiar institution" (slavery; "peculiar" used here in the sense of "exclusive to the "slave states") dates from the 1830s when it was used in speeches by Southern politician John C Calhoun (1782-1850) and it was a standard part of the US political lexicon until abolition.  In ecclesiastical administration, peculiar was used in the sense of "distinct from the auspices of the diocese in which it's located".  Peculiar is a noun & adjective, peculiarize is a verb, peculiarity is a noun and peculiarly is an adverb; the noun plural is peculiars.

In the Church of England, a peculiar is an ecclesiastical district, parish, chapel or church which operates outside the jurisdiction of the bishop and archdeacon of the diocese in which they are situated. Most are Royal Peculiars subject to the direct jurisdiction of the monarch but some are those under another archbishop, bishop or dean.  The arrangement originated in Anglo-Saxon times and developed as a result of the relationship between the Norman and Plantagenet Kings and the English Church. King Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) retained Royal Peculiars following the Reformation and the Ecclesiastical Licences Act (1533), as confirmed by the Act of Supremacy (1559), transferred to the sovereign the jurisdiction which previously been exercised by the pope.  Surprisingly, most peculiars survived the Reformation but, with the exception of Royal Peculiars, almost all were abolished during the nineteenth century by various acts of parliament.  Mostly harmless among Anglicans, the concept existed also in the Roman-Catholic Church where it caused a few difficulties, usually because of bolshie nuns in convents answerable to Rome and not the local bishop.  The bishops, used to obedience, even if grudging, enjoyed this not at all.

Peculiar has a range of meanings.  One is the sense of something “uniquely peculiar to” meaning an attribute or something else shared with no other and sometimes things one thought peculiar to one thing or another are proved not so unique.  Saturn’s lovely rings were once thought peculiar to that planet but exploration and advances in observational technology meant that by the late twentieth century, it could be revealed Jupiter, Uranus and Neptune all had ring systems, all more modest than those of Saturn but they were there.  Non-realistic art has often for its impact depended on a depiction of the peculiar: blue trees, flying dogs and green people once all enough to shock.  This too can change.  Once, a painting of a black swan would have seemed peculiar because, as the Roman saying went rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno (a bird as rare upon the earth as a black swan).  The accepted fact was that all swans were white.  However, late in the seventeenth century, Dutch explorers visiting what is now the coast of Western Australia became the first Europeans to see black swans and event subsequently picked up in philosophy as the “black swan moment”, referencing the implications of an accepted orthodoxy of impossibility being disproven, later developed into the “black swan logical fallacy” which became a term used when identifying falsification.

Peculiar in the sense of something bizarre: 1961 Plymouth Fury Convertible.  It must have seemed a good idea at the time and never has there been anything to suggest the designers were under the influence of stimulants stronger than caffeine or nicotine.

Sometimes something thought peculiar can be described as “funny-peculiar” to distinguish it from something disturbing: peculiarities can be thought of as perversions.  In 1906, an embittered and vengeful Friedrich von Holstein (1837–1909; between 1876-1906, an éminence grise in the foreign office of the German Empire) sent a letter to the diplomat Prince Phillip of Eulenburg (1847–1921), the man he blamed for the ending of his long and influential career:

“My dear Phili – you needn’t take this beginning as a compliment since nowadays to call a man ‘Phili” means – well, nothing very flattering… I am now free to handle you as one handles such a contemptible person with your peculiarities.”

From this incendiary note ensued a series of legal proceedings exploring the allegations of “unnatural conduct” (homosexual activity) levelled against Prince Phillip, proceedings which involved a roll-call of characters, many with motives which went beyond their strict legal duty and a few with their own agendas.  The matter of Phili’s peculiarities was of great significance, not merely because homosexuality was punishable under the criminal code (although the statute was rarely enforced) but because the prince had for decades been the closest friend of the German Emperor, Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918).

Newmanesque

Newmanesque (pronounced new-min-esk)

The feelings of wonderment, awe, fear and enchantment induced in one when looking to the stars.

1860: From the writings of Cardinal Saint John Henry Newman (1801-1890), the construct being Newman + esque.  The -esque suffix was from the French -esque (-ish, -ic, -esque), from the Italian -esco, from the Latin -iscus, of Germanic origin, from the Lombardic -isc (-ish), from the Proto-West Germanic -isk, from the Proto-Germanic -iskaz (-ish), from the primitive Indo-European -iskos.  It was cognate with the Old High German -isc (from which German gained -isch), the Old English –isċ, the Old Norse –iskr and the Gothic -isks.   It was appended to nouns (particularly proper nouns) to form adjectives in the sense of (1) resembling or tending towards and (2) in the style or manner of.  English picked up the suffix directly as –ish; the -esque suffix technically means a stronger association than -ish or -ite but is often anyway preferred for literary effect.   

Cardinal Saint John Henry Newman (1801-1890).

John Henry Newman was a poet and theologian, first an evangelical Anglican priest (albeit one gradually assuming a higher ecclesiastical tone) who later, despite having once described the Roman church as "…polytheistic, degrading and idolatrous" became a Roman Catholic cardinal.  This appears to have happened because Newman the younger became haunted by the fourth century words of Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430), Securus judicat orbis terrarum!, usually translated by scholars as “the verdict of the world is conclusive” and by theologians as “wherefore the entire world judges out of security, they are not good who separate themselves from the entire world, in whatever part of the entire world”.

To structuralists, it means “it is good to keep the sinners in our midst if this is the way we may convert them”.  Newman dwelt on this for some time, an indication it’s not good for impressionable souls to read Augustine, Emily Brontë (1818–1848) or Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900) at too young an age.  Among the laity, Newman is most remembered for what’s called the newmanesque or the newmanist: the sense of awe wonderment even atheists might feel when gazing at the heavens.  In July 2019, Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) announced at a Consistory of Cardinals (a formal meeting of the College of Cardinals which a pope can convene at any time and known within the Vatican as “a conspiracy of cardinals”) that Newman would be created a saint and his canonisation was formally announced on 13 October, thus becoming the first English saint since the seventeenth century.  It’s a long process: Newman was proclaimed "Venerable" by the Congregation for the Causes of Saints in 1991 and was beatified in 2010.  Canonisation was the final step.

The Newmanesque; some get it and some don't: Lindsay Lohan (left) and Kim Jong-un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011) (right).

The Newmanesque: Look back in awe

Hubble Space Telescope Image NGC 6302 (butterfly nebula), 27 July 2009.

Image NGC 6302, commonly called the butterfly nebula, was taken by the Hubble telescope on 27 July 2009.  Something of a celestial Rorschach test card, cosmic reality belies the delicate appearance of this butterfly, those fragile-looking wings actually boiling cauldrons of gas, swirling at some 36,000^o F (20,000^o C) and travelling through space at 600,000 mph (960,000 km/h), fast enough to travel between earth and the moon in little more than twenty minutes.  The butterfly is in our Milky Way galaxy, some 3800 light-years distant in the constellation of Scorpius, the glowing gas the star’s outer layers, expelled over two millennia, the wingspan more than two light-years across.

At the centre lies a dying star once five times the mass of the Sun but, with its envelope of gases ejected, it’s now unleashing the stream of ultraviolet radiation that gives the cast-off material its glow.  The central star can’t be seen because of the surrounding thick belt of dust which constricts its outflow, creating the classic “bipolar” or hourglass shape shared with many planetary nebulae.  The data from Hubble do however allow scientists to construct a picture with the surface temperature estimated to be over 400,000^o F (220,000^o C), making it one of the Milky Way’s hotter stars.  Before losing the extended outer layers, the star had evolved into a red giant, with a diameter a thousand times that of the Sun, some of the cast-off gas creating the doughnut-shaped ring while other gas was ejected perpendicular to the ring at higher speeds, producing the butterfly’s elongated wings.  Later, as the star heated, a faster stellar wind (a stream of charged particles), ploughed through the structure, again modifying the shape.