Variation

Variation (pronounced vair-ee-ey-shuhn)

(1) The act, process, or accident of varying in condition, character, or degree; The act of varying; a partial change in the form, position, state, or qualities of a thing.

(2) Amount, rate, extent, or degree of change.

(3) A different form of something; a variant; a related but distinct thing.

(4) In music, the transformation of a melody or theme with changes or elaborations in harmony, rhythm, and melody (the technique often using repetition of material with alterations to melody, harmony, rhythm, timbre, texture, counterpoint or orchestration (though often with some invariant characteristic).

(5) In ballet, a solo dance, especially one a section of a pas de deux.

(6) In astronomy, any deviation from the mean orbit of a heavenly body, especially of a planetary or satellite orbit.

(7) In admiralty use as applied to nautical navigation, the angular difference at the vessel between the direction of true north and magnetic north; also called magnetic declination.

(8) In biology, a difference or deviation in structure or character from others of the same species or group (specifically in genetics the modification of a hereditary trait.

(9) In linguistics, any form of morphophonemic change, such as one involved in inflection, conjugation, or vowel mutation.

(10) In linguistics, when two or more linguistic forms appear in the same environment without a change in meaning, the choice of form being determined by factors of dialect, sociolect, register or simply the speaker's preference.

(11) In board and other games, a a line of play that differs from the original.

(12) In mathematics (variational calculus), an infinitesimal perturbation applied to a function, typically denoted , used to probe how a functional changes.

1350-1400: From the Middle English variation (difference, divergence), from the Middle French variation, from the Old French variacion (variety, diversity) and directly from the Latin variationem & variātiōn (stem of variātiō) (a difference, variation, change), from the past participle stem of variare (to change) (the source of the modern English vary).  The use in the context of musical composition wasn't common until the early nineteenth century.  The available synonyms themselves show an impressive variation: deviation, abnormality, diversity, variety, fluctuation, innovation, divergence, alteration, discrepancy, disparity, mutation, shift, modification, change, swerve, digression, contradistinction, aberration, novelty, diversification, mutation, alteration, difference.  Apart from the English variation, European descendants include the French variation, the Italian variazione, the Portuguese variação, the Russian вариация (variacija), the Spanish variación and Swedish variation.  Variation & variationism are nouns, variationist is a noun & adjective and variational is an adjective; the noun plural is variations.

In jurisdictions of the common law tradition, the word “variation” must be used with caution because while in documents it can be innocuous, it possesses also a number of well-established legal meanings, these varying according to the field of law where applied.  In the broadest (and simplest) sense, a “variation” is a change to an existing legal instrument, obligation, agreement etc that in some way changes something while leaving the arrangement’s whole substantially in existence.  The most familiar use is in contract law, a variation to a contract an agreement between parties to the contract to alter one or more of the terms.  In practice, despite the evolved rules, with the agreement of all parties, a variation to a contract can be so fundamental that it really become a “new contact”.  Provided there is certainty in the wording of the “variation” and all parties are content, this can be uncontroversial but in disputes, a variation can be found to be so fundamental a court will declare it a “new contract”.  Contract variations are so common (and often oral transactions if minor) that most pass unnoticed though disputed variations are among some of the famous entries in contract law text books.  In the jargon, a variation is conceptually distinct from a rescission (terminating an existing contract) or a novation (substituting a new contract or party for an existing one).  The interesting technical aspect of course is the point at which a “variation” becomes a contract, the terminology of significance because just because those writing something call it a “variation”, that doesn’t mean a court will accept it is one; depending on this and that, it may be held what the parties call a “variation” has, in effect, rescinded and replaced the original contract.  Borrowing from the traditions of equity the maxim “equity looks at substance rather than form” and what contract law judges do is look at consequence rather than the label.

Ginger, copper, auburn & chestnut are variations on the theme of red-headedness: Lindsay Lohan demonstrates the possibilities. 

Courts can also impose variations on their own orders (in which a term or terms might be altered but the order remains operative).  A judge of their own volition may issue a variation or it can be a response to a request from one of the parties (or both) to the proceedings.  Variations in orders are very common in family matters (quantum of maintenance payments, shared parenting arrangements etc) and criminal law (a sentence, bail or parole arrangements etc).  As a piece of judicial administration, variations are a vital aspect because, analogous with the use in contract law, they are a “modification”, meaning the force of the original remains afoot with no need for a re-hearing or the making of a new order.  Of course, a court may choose to set aside an order and make a new one; it’s on an order-by-order basis.  In specialized matters such will or trusts, variations can highly be regulated the laws of trusts especially specific and, as Rupert Murdoch (b 1931) found out, sometimes legally bulletproof.  Beneficiaries and trustees are of course subject to restrictions on variations but courts are also governed by the rules.  

Glenn Gould and the Goldberg Variations: 1955 & 1981

Published in 1741, J.S. Bach’s (1685-1750) Goldberg Variations consists of an aria and thirty variations.  Written for the harpsichord, it was named after German harpsichordist & organist Johann Gottlieb Goldberg (1727-1756), thought to have undertaken the first performance.  The work is now part of the canon of Baroque music but, before 1955, was an obscure piece of the Bach repertoire, a technically difficult composition for the hardly fashionable harpsichord and known mostly as a device for teachers to develop students’ keyboard skills.  Even for aficionados of the Baroque, it was rarely performed.

Glenn Gould (1932-1982) was a Canadian classical pianist, his debut album on the then novel twelve-inch vinyl LP an interpretation of The Goldberg Variations, played not on a harpsichord but a piano.  It was at once acknowledged to be an extraordinary performance and although critics don't always embrace radical approaches to older pieces, the praise was almost universal although there was one reviewer wo expressed "shock" ate Gould's fingers moving at a tempo the composer would never have envisioned, resulting in a piece of electrifying intensity; it really was something beyond mere interpretation. As well as introducing him to a wider audience, The Goldberg Variations proved also Gould's swansong, uniquely for him, re-recorded in 1981 and issued days before his death.  Eschewing the stunningly fast pace that had made the earlier recording famous and clearly the work of a mellower, more reflective artist, for those familiar with the original, it’s a masterpiece of controlled tension.  In 2002, Sony re-released both, the earlier essentially untouched, the later benefiting from a re-mastering correcting some of the technical deficiencies that tended to plague many early digital releases.  Although critics and professional musicians doubtlessly understood why Gould believed there were aspects of the 1955 performance that detracted from the whole and why he felt his second attempt the better piece of art, for those who listen to music for pleasure, it’s still the original that thrills.

Rarely can a single recording have so successfully revived a long-neglected work but that’s what Gould’s 1955 release did for Bach’s Goldberg Variations, his audacious interpretation unlocking fascinations that have since drawn audiences although not until the next century were many other pianists tempted into the studio.  The (alleged) early history also is intriguing: When first published, the piece was titled: “Aria with diverse variations for a harpsichord with two manuals.  Composed for Music Lovers to Refresh their Spirits.”  While we can be grateful for the adoption of the punchier “Goldberg Variations”, the origins of the wordy original may lie in the household of an insomniac Russian count then serving as ambassador to the electoral court of Saxony (part of the Holy Roman Empire).  To sooth him to sleep, the ambassador would have the court musician (Johann Gottlieb Goldberg) spend evenings in an antechamber, playing the harpsichord.  It was the count who requested Bach to compose works of a “gentle yet lively character” so that, even if not lulled to sleep, he might be cheered up.  That tale appeared in a very early biography of Bach and few historians think it likely (his pupil Goldberg was the aged 14) but it’s attractive enough not to be forgotten and while the inclusion of “lively” might seem a strange request from an insomniac, as a chronic condition it has been linked to depression.

Simone Dinnerstein, Goldberg Variations by J.S. Bach (Telarc CD-80692).

Additionally, the count may have had scripture in mind:  “And it came to pass, when the evil spirit from God was upon Saul, that David took an harp, and played with his hand: so Saul was refreshed, and was well, and the evil spirit departed from him.” (1 Samuel 16:23; King James Version of the Bible (KJV, 1611).  Not for nothing is Bach known as perhaps the greatest composer of “Church Music”, his works often including what was in his lifetime called gemüths-ergetzende (soul-enhancing).  Certainly, the work retains its capacity to stun, US pianist Simone Dinnerstein’s acclaimed recording in 2007 one of that year’s big hits on the classical charts: Released by Telarc, it was her self-financed project to mark a return to performance after pausing to give birth to her first child and definitely it was not a Gould 1.1 or 2.1.  Preformed on a 1903 Hamburg Steinway model D concert grand, the sound was sumptuous without the contrived lushness many studios once were compelled to concoct in the day before digital techniques were refined to the point where individual notes could be captured almost in the space’s “specific cubic millimetres”.  What’s often forgotten about the Goldberg Variations is that although reviewers have often focused on the “difficult passages”, some of it is simple indeed and it’s this “light & dark” that can be exploited; Gould in 1955 had his approach, Dinnerstein in 2007 had her own and the contrast in obvious from the opening aria, played at a tempo that will seem startling to those who have only heard Gould’s first take on the meditation.  What she seems to have decided is it could be a romantic piece (not the most fashionable view in 2007), not from beginning to end, but with the character of those passages gaining emphasis from the more rapid sections.  It was an accomplished work and while the virtuosity might have been expected, it’s the inventiveness that will intrigue although there will be some who expected more, some of the repeats not included, presumably a technical limitation of the single-CD release.  Hopefully, like Gould, she’ll re-record, now technology no longer imposes such constraints.

Now

Now (pronounced nou)

(1) At the present time or moment (literally a point in time).

(2) Without further delay; immediately; at once; at this time or juncture in some period under consideration or in some course of proceedings described.

(3) As “just now”, a time or moment in the immediate past (historically it existed as the now obsolete “but now” (very recently; not long ago; up to the present).

(4) Under the present or existing circumstances; as matters stand.

(5) Up-to-the-minute; fashionable, encompassing the latest ideas, fads or fashions (the “now look”, the “now generation” etc).

(6) In law, as “now wife”, the wife at the time a will is written (used to prevent any inheritance from being transferred to a person of a future marriage) (archaic).

(7) In phenomenology, a particular instant in time, as perceived at that instant.

Pre 900: From the Middle English now, nou & nu from the Old English nū (at the present time, at this moment, immediately), from the Proto-West Germanic nū, from the Proto-Germanic nu, from the primitive Indo-European nū (now) and cognate with the Old Norse nu, the Dutch nu, the German nun, the Old Frisian nu and the Gothic nū.  It was the source also of the Sanskrit and Avestan nu, the Old Persian nuram, the Hittite nuwa, the Greek nu & nun, the Latin nunc, the Old Church Slavonic nyne, the Lithuanian nū and the Old Irish nu-.  The original senses may have been akin to “newly, recently” and it was related to the root of new.  Since Old English it has been often merely emphatic, without any temporal sense (as in the emphatic use of “now then”, though that phrase originally meant “at the present time”, and also (by the early thirteenth century) “at once” (in the early Middle English it often was written as one word).  The familiar use as a noun (the present time) emerged in the late fourteenth century while the adjective meaning “up to date” is listed by etymologists as a “mid 1960s revival” on the basis the word was used as an adjective with the sense of “current” between the late fourteenth and early nineteenth centuries.  The phrase “now and then” (occasionally; at one time and another) was in use by the mid 1400s, “now or never” having been in use since the early thirteenth century.  “Now” is widely used in idiomatic forms and as a conjunction & interjection.  Acronym Finder lists 26 NOW acronyms including National Organization for Women, Night of Worship, No Other Way, Nightmares on Wax, Never Open Wide, National Orchestra of Wales, Negotiable Order of Withdrawal, New Opportunities for Women, No Opportunity Wasted, Non-hazardous Oilfield Waste, Northamptonshire Orchestral Winds, and Network-grade Optical Wireless.  Now is a noun, adjective & adverb, nowism, nowness & nowist are nouns; the noun plural is nows.

Right here, right now: Acid House remix of Greta Thunberg’s (b 2003) How dare you? speech by Theo Rio.

“Now” is one of the more widely used words in English and is understood to mean “at the present time or moment (literally a point in time)”.  However, it’s often used in a way which means something else: Were one to say “I’ll do it now”, in the narrow technical sense that really means “I’ll do it in the near future”.  Even common occurrences treated as happening “now” (such as seeing or hearing something) are really experiences of past events.  Because light travels at a finite speed, it takes time for it to bounce from something to one’s eye so visual perception is an exercise in looking back to the past; even when reading something on a screen or page one’s brain is processing something from a nanosecond (about one billionth of a second) earlier.  For most purposes an essential convenience, “now” is but a convincing illusion and even though, in a special sense, everything in the universe is happening at the same time (now), while that can be imagined, it's not something easily experienced because of the implications of relativity.  None of this causes many problems in life but among certain physicists and philosophers, there is a dispute about “now” and there are essentially three factions: (1) that “now” happened only once in the history of the known universe and cannot again exist until the universe ends, (2) that only “now” can exist and (3) that “now” cannot ever exist.  These positions do appear irreconcilable.

Does now exist? (2013), oil & acrylic on canvas by Fiona Rae (b 1963) on MutualArt.

The notion that “now” can have happened only once in the history of our universe is nuanced because even the concept of "universe" is contested.   According to some cosmological theorists, variously there may be many universes, some which used to exist, some exact duplicates of our own (for students of the implications of "infinity", at least one of then even containing an identical Lindsay Lohan), some extant and some yet to be created (or "emerge"; the speculations differ).  An alternative view is "our universe" may now be in one of its many phases, each which will start and end with a unique “now” and that's tied up with the nature of time, the mechanism upon which “now” depends not merely for definition but also for existence.  That faction deals with what is essentially an intellectual exercise whereas the others operate where physics and linguistics intersect.  Within the community holding "now can never exist" there's a sub-faction arguing that to say “now” cannot exist is a bit of a fudge in that it’s not that “now” never happens but only that it can only every be described as a particular form of “imaginary time”; an address in space-time in the past or future.  The purists however are absolutists and their proposition is part of the nature of infinity, something which renders it impossible ever exactly to define “now” because endlessly the decimal point can shift so “now” can only ever be tended towards and never attained.  If pushed, all they will concede is that “now” can be approximated for purposes of description but that’s not good enough: there is no now because there can't be.

nower than now!: Lindsay Lohan on the cover of i-D magazine No.269, September, 2006.  If initial capitals are eschewed, it's a hint the publication is positioned as "edgy".

The “only now can exist” faction find tiresome the proposition that “the moment we identify something as happening now, already it has passed”, making the point that “now” is the constant state of existence and that a mechanism like time exists only a thing of administrative convenience.  The “only now can exist” faction are most associated with the schools of presentism or phenomenology and argue only the present moment (now) is “real” and that any other fragment of time can only be described, the past existing only in memory and the future only as anticipation or imagination; “now” is the sole verifiable reality.  They are interested especially in what they call “change & becoming”, making the point the very notion of change demands a “now”: events happen and things become in the present; without a “now”, change and causality are unintelligible.  The debate between the factions hinges often on differing interpretations of time: whether fundamentally it is subjective or objective, continuous or discrete, dynamic or static.  Linguistically and practically, “now” remains central to the human experience but whether it corresponds to an independent metaphysical reality remains a dispute that, pleasingly for those involved, can go on endlessly because there's unlikely ever to be a "right" answer.  Pleasingly, most people "now" alive (and most now dead) have dealt with the concept "now" and its companions (past & future) without being much troubled by the squabbles among philosophers or cosmologists.  

Cosmologists, if so minded, can dwell less on the nature of “now” because they have the “Andromeda paradox”, one of the consequences of Albert Einstein’s (1879-1955) theory of special relativity.  What the paradox does is illustrate the way “now” is relative and differs for observers moving at different speeds, the effect increasing as distances increase, such as when the point of reference is the Andromeda galaxy, some 2½ million light years distant from Earth.  Under special relativity, what one observer sees and perceives as “now” on Andromeda will, by another, moving at a different relative speed, be perceived as occurring in the past or future.   This can happen at any distance but, outside of computer simulations or laboratories, the effects of relative simultaneity are noticeable (even at relatively low speeds) only at distance.  The way to conceptualize special relatively is to imagine everything in the universe happening "at the same time" and "work backwards" as distances between objects increase.

Two views of both "now" and "then": Declaration of Independence (1819), oil on canvas by John Trumbull (1756–1843) (left) and US astrophysicist Fred Espenak's (1952–2025) image of the Spica binary system (right).  Forty-odd years on, Trumbull took a little artistic licence in his depiction of that night in Philadelphia on 4 July, 1776.  The painting on the left was of what was once "now" but is now "then" while on the right, the photograph simultaneously captured "now" (here) and "then" (there).  Technically, every photograph of an object has that characteristic but the greater the distance (time), the more obvious the difference.  

One way to illustrate the curious nature of “now” is to conduct a thought experiment.  Imagine, on 4 July, 2026, being in a remote part of Wyoming on a clear night and looking up to a sky full of stars, one of which would be Spica (Alpha Virginis), the brightest star in the Virgo constellation and the 16^th brightest visible on Earth.  Because Spica lies 250 light-years distant, the light seen in Wyoming would have been travelling through space since 4 July 1776 when the delegates to the Second Continental Congress, meeting at the Pennsylvania State House (later renamed Independence Hall) in Philadelphia, adopted unanimously the text of the US Declaration of Independence.  In other words, those on Earth viewing Spica on 4 July, 2026 would see the interacting binary system as it was on 4 July, 1776.  So that’s “now” watching something that is both 250 years old and yet still “now”.  Of course Spica is approximately 250 light years away so the "two fourths of July" might not exactly align but for though experiment purposes they do and that's fine.  Spica (two massive, hot blue stars orbiting each other every four days) presumably still (in its local sense) looks much the same but if anything has changed, not for a quarter-millennium will we notice.    

Seated vis-a-vis (literally "face to face"), Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, right) and her sister Aliana (b 1993, left), enjoying a tête-à-tête (literally, "head to head"), La Conversation bakery & café, West Hollywood, California, April 2012.  Sadly, La Conversation is now closed.  

Among the implications of the Andromeda paradox is that although the sisters would experience their discussion as something in the "here and now", to a cosmologist they are looking at each other as they used to be and hearing what each said some time in the past, every slight movement affecting the extent of this.  Because, in a sense, everything in the universe is happening "at the same time", the pair could have been sitting light years apart and spoke what they spoke "at the same time" but because of the speed at which light and sound travel, it's only at a certain distance a "practical" shared "now" becomes possible (even quantum entanglement not able to overcome such an instance of a "distance" problem).  One wholly speculative notion is to connect "now" with at least one of the mysterious pair "dark energy" & "dark matter", two possibly misleading terms used to describe the "missing stuff" the cosmologists' models indicate must (in great quantity) exist in the universe but haven't been yet been identified or even described.  That idea is that "dark energy" may be time itself, the implication being not only can time be used as a measure in the currently accelerating expansion of space but may be the very force responsible for the phenomenon.  Professional cosmologists are unlikely much to be drawn to that speculation, not least because it's not obvious how an experimental test could be be designed but, as the Austrian–British philosopher Sir Karl Popper (1902–1994) explained, the essence of the scientific method is "disproof" and "time may be dark energy" has yet to be disproved.

The notion of time as a form of energy is intoxicating and linked to the idea time either (1) may have been "started" by the unleashing of energy at the moment of the universe's creation or (2) time was that energy and the ongoing (and accelerating) expansion of the universe is just "time being time" (or "time marching on" as it were).  Certainly, time is a useful because without it everything literally "would happen at the same time" and that, in some theories, was what was happening (or "not happening" for those tied to linguistic conventions) prior to what's now usually (if misleadingly) called the "Big Bang".  So, the absence of time may have happened before and may happen again; in that state, the nature of "now" would for many reasons be uncontested.  The idea of time being the "dark energy" is in a sense implied in some of the theories speculating about the "end of the universe" in that some models are based on the universe "going dark" when its last source of energy is exhausted and it may be "running out of energy" and "running out of time" are two ways of expressing the same consequence, the difference being in the mechanics of "cause and effect".         

Fluff

Fluff (pronounced fluhf)

(1) Light, downy particles, as of cotton.

(2) A soft, light, downy mass.

(3) In slang, a cloth diaper (nappy).

(4) In slang (New England region in the US), marshmallow crème, thus the local delicacy the “fluffernutter” (a sandwich made with peanut butter and marshmallow fluff), once a favorite of children’s school lunches but now likely to attract “mom shaming” on Instagram.

(5) In LGBTQQIAAOP slang, the passive partner in a lesbian relationship, known also as a “ruffle” (unfortunately the dominant partner is not known as a “flounce” which seems a missed linguistic opportunity).

(6) In slang, (Australia, New Zealand, Canada), a fart.

(7) In the slang of pop-culture fandom, fan fiction (in whole or in part) is “sweet and feel-good” in tone, often involving romance.

(8) In the slang (UK) of the role-playing game community, a form of role-playing that is inconsequential and not related to the plot; it's used sometimes in the context of (but not limited to)  “fulling in time”.

(9) In UK slang, short change deliberately given by a railway clerk (keeping the money for themselves), an clipping of “deliberate fluff” (obsolete).

(10) Figuratively, something of no consequence; insubstantial. 

(11) Figuratively (of literature, political argument, philosophy etc), a slight work or one of dubious artistic or intellectual value; unscholarly (used also as a polite euphemism for BS (bullshit), being less explicit than “cattle feces” (faeces in non-US English)).

(12) An error (flub, lapse, blooper, blunder, boo-boo, defect, error, fault, faux pas, gaffe, lapse, mistake, slip, stumble, brain-fart, brain-explosion), especially an actor's memory lapse in the delivery of lines (often in the form “fluffed their lines”).

(13) A young woman (often as “a bit of fluff”), the implication being of her providing a brief, amusing diversion rather than one sought for a permanent relationship).

(14) To make into fluff; shake or puff out (feathers, hair etc) into a fluffy mass (often followed by up).

(15) To make a mistake.

(16) To become fluffy; move, float, or settle down like fluff.

(17) To embellish (often as “fluffed up”).

1780s: From the earlier (or perhaps contemporary) floow (woolly substance, down, nap, lint (which appeared also as flough, flue & flew)), possibly from the West Flemish vluwe (an imitative modification of floow), of uncertain origin but which may be from the French velu (hairy, furry), from the Latin villūtus (having shaggy hair), from villus (shaggy hair, tuft of hair) and may be compared with the Old English flōh (that which is flown off, fragment, piece), linked to the later “flaw”.  Although undocumented, etymologists generally conclude the word may have been a blend of flue +‎ puff.  “Fluffy stuff” is a common phenomenon in the natural world and descriptors existed in many European languages including the possibly onomatopoeic Middle Dutch vloe, the dialectal English floose, flooze & fleeze (particles of wool or cotton; fluff; loose threads or fibres), the Danish fnug (down, fluff) and the Swedish fnugg (speck, flake).  Traces of the sound of the word “fluff” are found in other languages including the Japanese フワフワ (fuwafuwa) (lightly, softly), the Hungarian puha (soft, fluffy), the Polish puchaty (soft, fluffy) and the Romanian puf (down; peachfuzz; soft hair of some animals; powderpuff).  Fluff & fluffing are nouns & verbs, fluffed is a verb, fluffiness & fluffer are nouns, fluffless & flufflike are adjectives, fluffy is an adjective (and non-standard) noun and fluffily is an adverb; the noun plural is fluffs.

Fluffied: Lindsay Lohan in bikini embellished with faux fur, photo-shoot for the fifth anniversary of ODDA magazine, April 2017.

In idiomatic use there’s “fluff around” of “fluff about” (ineffectually to act or waste time”, “fluff off” (an affectionate form of “fuck off”), “fluff-ball” or “ball of fluff” (a fluffy kitten or puppy with the quality of “cuteness”), “bum fluff” or “belly-button fluff” (small particles the fabric of clothing which accumulates in body crevices), “fluffhead” (someone vague or confused (synonymous with “airhead”), “fluff up” (a polite version of “fuck up”).  The term “fluffy bunny” isn’t from lagomorphology (the scientific study of rabbits (small mammals in the family Leporidae)) although it may be assumed the term is used in pet shops.  Fluffy bunny (also as “fluff bunny” & “fluffbunny”) was an adaptable noun used to mean: (1) a synonym of chubby bunny (a competitive eating game in which contestants had to pronounce words or phrases (such as “Irish wristwatch”) while holding increasing numbers of marshmallows is their mouth), (2) in the strange world of quantum mechanics, quantum entanglement, which in theory can occur but may or may not happen because of "other physics" and (3) a derogatory descriptor of a casual, naive practitioner of Wicca (or other neo-pagan religions), especially one deemed to have only a superficial understanding.  The slang “bit of fluff” (young woman with whom one is enjoying or planning a brief affair) was first recorded in 1903 while the use to describe the marshmallow confection seems to date from at least 1920, noted in Massachusetts.  The verb in the sense of “to shake into a soft mass” was in use by 1875 (directly from the noun) while the meaning “make a mistake” dates from 1884 as theatre slang referring to actors who had forgotten or weongly spoken (fluffed) their lines.  The adjective fluffy (containing or resembling fluff) came into use in the 1820s.

“Fluff jobs” were those deemed of dubious worth or existing only to fulfil some government-imposed mandate, one marker of which was said to be the length of the job title (eg deputy regional assistant coordinator of diversity and inclusion).  The concept was satirised by Douglas Adams (1952–2001) in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992), the profession of “telephone sanitizer” being a classic “Fluff job”.  The the joke was that having exiled the fluffy (telephone sanitizers, advertising account executives, management consultants and such) the ancient civilization of the planet Golgafrincham being driven to extinction by the spread of a lethal pathogen through the vector of uncleaned telephone handsets.  The exiled “fluffies” ended up on Planet Earth where they became the ancestors of modern humans, explaining the proliferation of “fluff jobs” now so obvious.  

A Bit of Fluff (1963) by Kimberly Kemp.

Kimberly Kemp was a pseudonym adopted by Gilbert Fox (1917-2004) for his “lesbian pulp novels”, dozens of which were published during the 1960s & 1970s.  His other lesbian fiction (in a slightly different) vein appeared under names including Dallas Mayo and Violet Loring while for his “heterosexual erotica” he used Peter Willow and Paul Russo.  Unfortunately, the cover-art for his titles is unattributed and the publishers may have used many graphic artists while maintaining the thematic consistency (which was something like “Mills & Boon undressed”).  Mr Fox led a varied and interesting life and A Bit of Fluff (1963) was illustrative of the lesbionic component of his oeuvre, other titles including: Intimate Nurse; A World All Their Own; The Houseguest; My Secret Lesbian Life, Vol I; My Secret Lesbian Life, Vol II; Lesbian Obsession; Perfume and Pain; Private party; Different; The Last Resort; Coming Out Party; Pleasant Company; Operation: Sex; A Cunning Among Lesbians; Play With Me; Illicit Interlude; Two Women; The houseguest; Love like a Shadow; A labor of love; Party Time; Secret Cravings; Draw the Blinds; Two of a Kind, Virgin Wanted; Perfumed/Pampered.

Middlemarch by George Eliot, first edition, 1871 (vol I) & 1872 (Vol II, III & IIII).  Appearing originally in eight paper-bound instalments (1871-1872), the hardback editions (in four volumes) were published in parallel, something not at the time the industry's universal practice.

Mr Fox opted to use a feminine pen-name for his lesbian erotica to lend a touch of authenticity, suggesting what would now be called “lived experience” rather than the rather formulaic approach to the topic taken by male authors who tended often to indulge their own fantasies; definitely he was interested in attracting a female readership and reverse-gender pseudonyms have a history, the most famous probably George Eliot (pen name of Mary Ann Evans (1819–1880)).  Ms Evans adopted a masculine pen-name not because it wasn’t possible for women novelists to find publishers but because “women’s fiction” was at the time regarded as a “fluffy, trivial amusements” while she wanted to focus on the more challenging themes men were exploring in the “realism” genre then fashionable in European literature.  It’s good she did because, although dated, works like Romola (1862–1863) and Middlemarch (1871–1872) are rewarding and even valuable source documents for social historians.

Catch 22 (1961) by Joseph Heller: Polymesmeric but not fluffy.

Literary editors use the phrase “brushing the dog” to describe the process of “removing the fluff” from a manuscript, hopefully leaving only nice, glossy text.  Literary historians sometimes compare originals with the edited versions that appeared in print and although there’s sometimes come regret for some of what was lost, generally the view seem to be that editors produce a better book.  Once who suggested an editor should have used a stiffer brush was the old curmudgeon Norman Mailer (1923–2007) who, writing of Joseph Heller’s (1923-1999) Catch-22 (1961), joked that a reader wouldn’t notice were “100 pages pulled from the middle”, adding “not even the author could be certain they were gone.”  The non-lineal structure of Catch 22 certainly demanded some mental gymnastics from readers (one publisher coined “polymesmeric” for the blurb) and, pace Norman Mailer but it might have been more accurate to suggest the chapter order could have been re-arranged without compromising the literary value.  Even if those same readers might find 100 pages to remove, not all would agree on which 100 pages.

Watergate Fluff

Watergate fluff is one of the alternative terms for the dish “Watergate Salad”, the others including Green Fluff, Green Goddess, Fluff Salad and Funeral Salad, the last picked up reputedly because it was so often served at wakes.  It’s not clear how the culinary delight came to be called “Watergate Salad” although there’s no doubt the use was triggered by some association the Watergate scandal of the early 1970s which revolved around attempts by the administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974) to “cover up” the involvement of operatives connected to the White House with the break-in in June 1972 of the Democratic National Committee (DNC) headquarters in Washington DC’s Watergate Building.  Interestingly, although the scandal (in the public perception, although the legal proceedings would last longer) ended in August 1974 when Nixon resigned, the first known use of the term “Watergate Salad” dates from 1975 although in September 1974, Maryland's Hagerstown Daily Mail had published the recipe for “Watergate Cake”, also a similarly green-tinted dessert made with pistachio pudding in the mix and sometimes the icing.

Fluffy dice (in period 1970s brown) in 1974 Ford Mustang II Ghia.  It is a truth universally acknowledged, that of the seven generations of Ford Mustang produced since 1964, it is a second generation (Watergate scandal era) Mustang II (1973-1978) in which it is most likely a pair of fluffy dice will be hanging from the rear-view mirror.  If they're seen dangling in a Boss 429 (1969-1970), that's irony.

The dish however predates the term.  Some claim the Kraft Foods Corporation deserves credit (apparently as a proud boast rather than an admission of guilt) as the creator because in 1975 they published a recipe called “Pistachio Pineapple Delight” as part of a promotional campaign to support the release that year of their “Pistachio Pudding Mix” (something with a long tradition, a whipped cream and pineapple concoction detailed in a Kansas newspaper in 1913, the year Richard Nixon was born).  At that point, history and myth become hard to untangle, one story saying the food editor of the Chicago Tribune named it to stimulate interest, suggesting it was the ideal snack to enjoy while watching the televised hearings of proceedings pursuant to the scandal while another claimed it was associative because the Watergate Hotel (in the by then infamous building) served the salad on their popular weekend buffets; no menus appear to have survived to prove or disprove that one.  Best suggestion was the name was chosen because the salad was “full of nuts” (like the crew involved in the scandal, including the memorable lawyer and Watergate burglary coordinator G Gordon Liddy (1930–2021) who wasn’t really “a nut” but often has been portrayed as one).  True or not, that’s the one which deserves to be accepted.

Aleita Dupree's Watergate Salad recipe

Ingredients

1 (3 ½ oz) box of instant pistachio pudding mix.
1 (20 oz) can of crushed pineapple with juice (most use sweetened).
1 (8 oz) container of cool whip, thawed.
1 heaped cup of miniature marshmallows.
½ cup of chopped pecan nuts.
Stemmed maraschino cherries for garnish (optional).

Instructions

(1) In glass serving bowl, mix crushed pineapple and juice with pistachio pudding mix.  Stir pudding until mix completely is dissolved and mixture is smooth.

(2) Fold in the thawed cool whip.  Gently fold until pudding and cool whip is completely blended.

(3) Add miniature marshmallows and pecans.  Cover and chill until salad is set (should take up to 30 minutes).

(4) To serve, garnish with stemmed cherries and extra chopped pecans (if desired).

Fluff in fashion

Fluffiness in fashion: Lindsay Lohan in Falling for Christmas (Netflix, 2022, left) and in New York to promote Irish Wish (Netflix, 2024, right).  The fluffy cream coat is by David Koma (Davit Komakhidze b 1985), a London-based, Georgian-born fashion designer (the label of his fashion house is stylized as DΛVID KOMΛ).  The crystal payette-embroidered layered cup bra hints at the profile of the customer base and did appear on sale at US$1250 (down from US$1750).  The fashion business is regarded by some as a bit “fluffy” (frocks and such) compared with “hard” industries (heavy engineering, nuclear weapons etc) but globally the annual turnover of the fashion industry is substantial.  The numbers bounce around a bit because it difficult to determine where “fashion” ends and “commodities” begin but estimates between US$1.5-2.5 trillion widely are quoted (In financial use, one trillion = 1,000,000,000,000 (one million million or 1,000 billion)).

Poison & Venom

Poison (pronounced poi-zuhn)

(1) A substance with an inherent property that can impair function, cause structural damage, or otherwise injure or destroy life or impair health.

(2) Something harmful or pernicious, as to happiness or well-being.

(3) A slang term for alcoholic liquor.

(4) To administer poison (to something living).

(5) To ruin, vitiate, or corrupt.

(6) In chemistry, a substance that retards a chemical reaction or destroys or inhibits the activity of a catalyst or enzyme.

(7) In nuclear physics, a substance that absorbs neutrons in a nuclear reactor and thus slows down the reaction.  It may be added deliberately or formed during fission.

(8) Variously in computing (often as "poison message"), a routine or instruction able to stop processes; the "poison queue" is a place to which these are diverted to prevent them running (a similar concept to a "quarantine zone").

1200-1250: From the Middle English poisoun, poyson, poysone, puyson & puisun (a deadly potion or substance (and figuratively, "spiritually corrupting ideas; evil intentions,"), from the twelfth century Old French poison & puison (drink, especially a "medical drink" (later "a (magic) potion; a poisonous drink"), from the Latin potionem (nominative potio) (a drinking, a drink) (and also "a poisonous drink"), from potare (to drink), from the primitive Indo-European root poi- & po- (to drink).  The earliest Lastin forms were pōtiōn (drink, a draught, a poisonous draught, a potion), from pōtō (I drink) & pōtāre (to drink).   The Middle English forms displaced the native Old English ator.  The Latin pōtiōn is the stem of pōtiō, the derive forms being pōtio & pōtiōnis.  The adjective poisonsome is obsolete and poisonous is used for all purposes.  Poison is a noun & verb, poisonousness & poisoner are nouns, empoison is a verb, poisoning is a noun & verb, poisoned is a verb & adjective, poisonous, poisonlike & poisonless are adjectives and poisonously is an adverb; the noun plural is poisons. 

Dry Cooder, Ronald Reagan, Can of Poison Meat.  The edited recording was sampled from a long interview conducted by US journalist Bill Moyers (1934–2025; White House Press Secretary 1965-1967) on 14 May 1979, some months before Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; POTUS 1981-1989) had declared his candidacy for POTUS. In the transcript the phrase is written as "can of poison meat" but the recording does suggest Mr Reagan (correctly) said "can of poisoned meat".

The evolution from Latin to French followed the pattern of other words (eg raison from rationem), the Latin word also the source of Old Spanish pozon, the Italian pozione and the Spanish pocion.  The modern and more typical Indo-European word for this is represented in English by "virus" and the slang sense of "alcoholic drink" is an Americanism dating from 1805 (the sense evolution was from "drink" to "deadly drink") although the bartender's phrase "what's your poison" (ie, what drink do you wish to order?) picked up on this in a sardonic way.  Potus as a past-participle adjective in Latin meant "drunken".  Figurative use was first noted in the late fifteenth century although it appears not to have been applied to persons until 1910 but entmologists caution this reflects on the extant written record and earlier oral use was likely.  It was used as an adjective from the 1520s; with plant names appearing from the mid eighteenth century, poison ivy first in recorded 1784, following poison oak in 1743.  Poison-pen (the trolling of the time), was popularized in 1913 by a notorious criminal case in Pennsylvania although the phrase dates from 1898, including as a description of the blackmailer's letter (a form of extortion that earned from the Duke of Wellington (1769-1852) the famous reply: "Publish and be damned!".  In some Germanic languages "poison" is aligned with the English gift (eg the Old High German gift, the German Gift, the Danish & Swedish gift and the Dutch gift & vergift).  This shift may have been partly euphemistic and partly the influence of the Greek dosis (a portion prescribed (literally "a giving")), used by Greek physicians to mean "a quantum of medicine".  Of persons detested or regarded as exerting baleful influence, poison and poisonous were in use by 1910.  The verb in the sense of "to poison, to give poison to" dates from the circa 1300 poisonen, from the Old French poisonner (to give to drink) and directly from the noun poison.  The figurative use in the sense of "to corrupt" emerged in the late fourteenth century.

Three portraits of Lindsay Lohan as Poison Ivy by Alex Ross.  Poison Ivy is a comic book character in works published by US company DC Comics.  Poison Ivy is one of Batman's many enemies.

In idiomatic use, the phrase “poisoned chalice” (a large drinking cup) refers to something that at first glance seems desirable but later is revealed to be disadvantageous or harmful.  It’s now used often in politics to describe the situation in which the leadership of a party is offered to someone when it is obvious to all prospects of success are slight and defeat looms (accounting for the phenomenon of women being appointed leaders during the dying days ("fag-end") of  administrations).  This is a modern variant on the original sense in which things initially seemed benign, only later to cause harm or even death.  A famous use was by William Shakespeare (1564–1616) in The Tragedy of Macbeth (Macbeth, circa 1606) in the speech in which Macbeth flinches from the prospective murder of King Duncan.  “Poisoned compliment” is synonym of “asterism” or “left-handed compliment”; an insult disguised as a compliment or a compliment which can be interpreted as an insult; “damning with faint praise” can be used in the same way.  A “poisonmonger” was “one who peddles poison” and while that could be literal (ie a merchant who trades in poisons), it’s more often used figuratively of those who speak with a “poison tongue” or who wield a “poison pen”.  A “taste of one's own poison” was synonymous with “taste of one's own medicine” and referred to harsh treatment inflicted on one who previously made other suffer the treatment.  To “pick (or “choose”) one’s poison” was to be compelled to choose between two unappealing options.  During periods of “liberal” rule within the Ottoman Empire (1299-1922), foreign diplomats visiting Constantinople (Istanbul in the modern-day Republic of Türkiye (Turkey)) often were relieved to discover alcoholic beverages readily were available, despite the prophet in the Holy Qur'an declaring the stuff haram (forbidden); usually with a smile, their sophisticated Ottoman counterparts would tell them: "It's thought a man should choose his own poison."  That was good for Ottoman commerce and, of course, of limited theological significance because infidels were anyway destined for the depths of Hell.  To say “one man’s meat is another’s poison” is to admit people have differing tastes; what pleases one person may displease another. 

“Well poisoning” still is practiced and means literally “to make the water supply undrinkable by means of adulteration” (not necessarily with “poison” in the narrow technical sense).  A wartime technique known since at least antiquity, it was used both as an offensive weapon (a terror tactic to disrupt and depopulate a target area) and defensively (as a scorched earth tactic to deny an invading army sources of clean water). Historically, rotting corpses (animal and human) were thrown down wells, making it an early example of biological warfare and that was an especially potent technique because corpses known to have died from transmissible diseases (common during the "age of epidemics" that was the Medieval period) such as bubonic plague or tuberculosis often were available to be "weaponized".  Figuratively, “to poison the well” was pre-emptively to raise ad hominem arguments in order to discredit someone, the concept thus a type of informal fallacy where adverse information about a target is presented to an audience with the intention of devaluing what they’re about to say.  That makes it a certain type of argumentum ad hominem and the phrase was first in this sense used by convert Roman Catholic theologian Cardinal John Henry Newman (1801-1890) in Apologia Pro Vita Sua (A defence of one's own life, 1864).  The proverb “The damage that a substance causes is determined more by its quantity than by its essence” is from toxicology and references the phenomenon that while some substances may for life be beneficial or even essential, in certain quantities they can be damaging or even fatal; for humans, ingesting even pure water can prove lethal if enough is consumed in a certain period, toxicity for healthy adults reached with as little as 20 litres (4.4 imperial gallons, 5.3 US gallons) taken over a few hours.

Venom (pronounced ven-uhm)

(1) The poisonous fluid that some animals, as certain snakes and spiders, secrete and introduce into the bodies of their victims by biting, stinging etc.

(2) Something resembling or suggesting poison in its effect; spite; malice.

(3) Poison in general (inaccurate, now archaic).

(4) To make venomous; envenom (archaic).

(5) Malice, spite.

1175–1225: A variant of the Middle English venim & venym (poison secreted by some animals and transferred by biting) from the Anglo-Norman & Old French venim, venin (poison; malice), from the Vulgar Latin venīmen (source also of the Italian veleno and the Spanish veneno), from the Latin venēnum (magical herb or potion, poison (and in pre-Classical times "drug, medical potion" also "charm, seduction" probably originally "love potion")).  The root was the Proto-Italic weneznom (lust, desire), from the primitive Indo-European wenh (to strive, wish, love) from wen (to desire; to strive for) and related forms included the Sanskrit वनति (vanati) (gain, wish, erotic lust) and the Latin Venus.   The various deformations in post-Latin languages happened apparently by process of dissimilation with the modern spelling in English more or less standardized by the late fourteenth century.  In figurative use, to have "venom in one's voice" was to express thoughts or feelings marked by spite or malice (vitriolic talk); that of course has been common in human discourse since even before structured language developed but the use of "venom" or "venomous" as a descriptor has been in use since at least the late twelfth century.  The adjective venomosalivary (relating to venom and saliva) is now rare and appears only in historic references while the adjective venonsome is obsolete and venomous is used for all purposes.  Venom is a noun, verb & adjective, venomousness, venomization & venomosity are nouns, venomless, venomlike, venomosalivary, venomsome, venomous & venomic are adjectives, venomize, venoming & envenomate are verbs, venomed is a verb & adjective and venomously is an adverb; the noun plural is venoms.

Sometimes similar consequences but linguistically not interchangeable

A venomous white-lipped pit viper (Trimeresurus insularis), ready to strike; the lovely blue ones are rare; most are green.  That may be an example of survival of the fittest given the environments in which they dwell tend more to be green than blue.  As a footnote, the phrase “survival of the fittest” often is attributed to Charles Darwin (1809-1882) but nowhere does in appear in his epoch-making On the Origin of Species (1859); it was coined by English polymath Herbert Spencer (1820–1903) and first used in his Principles of Biology (1864).  Sometimes misunderstood, “fittest” means “best fitted to the environment or able to adapt to change”, not “strongest, fastest, or most physically fit”.  In other words, organisms most likely to survive as a species are those best adapted to their niche or able to adapt to changing circumstances.

Poison and venom often are used interchangeably because, once in the body, the chemicals can do similar damage, attacking the heart, brain or other vital organs but the meanings are different.  That said, there are many venoms able to be ingested without ill-effect because they are dangerous only if entering the bloodstream although that can happen through a minor cut in the mouth so the practice is not without risk.  Typically, venomous creatures bite, sting or stab their victims whereas for poisonous substances to affect the living, entry typically is by means of ingestion, inhalation or touch.  The venomous thus need a way in, like fangs or teeth whereas a poison in some cases need only come in contact with bare skin.  The useful rule is: If one bites something and one dies, what one bit contained poison; if something bites one and one dies, one was bitten by something venomous.  Of course, one is just as dead whether the cause was ingesting poison, the bite of a venomous snake or being murdered by the Freemasons but the distinction is of significance for pathologists performing post mortems (autopsies) or those signing death certificates.  More critically, it matters greatly to medical staff performing a diagnosis; because the symptoms induced by the presence of poison and venom can overlap, determining which can be a matter of life and death.

Lindsay Lohan in pink orchid veavage swimsuit next to potted pink orchid, Phuket, Thailand, December 2017.  It was during this mini-break the wire service story was syndicated with the headline: “Lindsay Lohan bitten by snake on holiday in Thailand” and almost instantly the grammar Nazis tweeted on X (then known as Twitter) demanding proof the snake really was taking a vacation; standards have fallen since sub-editors went extinct but errors like this may vanish as AI (artificial intelligence) bots replace flesh & blood journalists.  Ms Lohan made a full-recovery; there was no word on the fate of the (presumably non-venomous) serpent.