Pitcher

Pitcher (pronounced pich-er)

(1) A jug-like container, usually with a handle and narrow-necked spout or lip, for holding and pouring liquids; historically of earthenware, they now can be made of many materials (glass, plastic, metal etc).

(2) In botany, a pitcher-like or flask-shaped organ or appendage of a plant or its leaves; any of the urn-shaped leaves of the pitcher plant.

(3) In zoology, one of the former genus Ascidium of simple ascidians (sea squirts).

(4) In the sport of golf, a club with an iron head the face of which has more slope than a mashie but less slope than a pitching niblick (known also as a seven iron). 

(5) In stone-masonry, a granite stone or sett used in paving (known also as a sett).

(6) An adaptation of a crowbar, used for digging (obsolete).

(7) In slang, a drug dealer (usually one at the lowest (street level) level of the supply chain).

(8) In slang (UK criminal class), one who is the final link in the chain (ie the one handing the notes) to the retailer etc) putting counterfeit currency into circulation (obsolete).

(9) In slang, a street vendor, a “fly-pitcher” being an illicit street trader (one operating without permission or a license).

(10) In publishing, film or music production etc, an individual who delivers the pitch (the proposal) to secure funding, publishing contract etc; by extension a person who advocates an idea, concept or plan).

(11) A person who throws, tosses, casts etc something.

(12) In the sports of baseball, softball & pesäpallo, the player who throws (ie pitches) the ball to the opposition’s batters.

(13) In the slang (originally US) of the (male) gay community, the “top” (the “dominant” (in the penetrator)) partner in a homosexual encounter between two men, the other being the “catcher” (ie the “bottom”) (the “pitcher-catcher” comparison from the sport of baseball).

1250–1300: From the Middle English picher, from the Old French bichier, pichier & pechier (small jug) (which endures in modern French as pichet), from the Late Latin &  Medieval Latin picārium, a variant of bicārium (beaker), possibly from bacarium & bacar or from the Ancient Greek βῖκος (bîkos).  The use in the sense of “throwing something emerged between 1700-1710, the construct being pitch + -er.  The noun pitch (in the sense of throw, toss, cast etc) was from the Middle English picchen & pycchen (to thrust in, fasten, settle), from the Old English piċċan, from the Proto-West Germanic pikkijan, a variant of the Proto-West Germanic pikkōn (to pick, peck), from which Middle English gained pikken & picken (to pick, pierce) and modern English, pick.  The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought most likely to have been borrowed from the Latin –ārius where, as a suffix, it was used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals.  In English, the –er suffix, when added to a verb, created an agent noun: the person or thing that doing the action indicated by the root verb.   The use in English was reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant -our), from the Latin -ātor & -tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  When appended to a noun, it created the noun denoting an occupation or describing the person whose occupation is the noun.  In botany, user have the pleasure of the adjective urceolate (comparative more urceolate, superlative most urceolate) meaning “having an urceolus (shaped like an urn), the word from the Latin urceolus (a little pitcher, more familiar as urceolatus), diminutive of urceus (any urn-shaped organ of a plant.).  Pitcher & pitcherful are nouns and pitcherlike & picchered are adjectives; the noun plural is pitchers.

Nepenthes holdenii, a tropical, meat-eating pitcher plant endemic in western Cambodia.  For carnivorous plants, the "pitcher" structure confers advantages in harvesting so the process of natural selection is ideal, the advantages conferred by the shape thus favored by natural selection.  

In idiomatic use a “little pitcher” was “a small child” and the phrase “little pitchers have big (sometimes “long”) ears” meant adults should exercise caution when talking in the presence of children because what is said may over overheard and understood or misunderstood (both, for different reasons, potentially leading to bad outcomes).  The “ears” in the phrase was an allusion to the ear-shaped handles common on pitchers used for serving liquids.  “Pitcher-bawd” was old sailor’s slang for an old or at least semi-retired prostitute (ie “past her best”) who worked in a tavern fetching pitchers of beer for patrons.  A “rinse-pitcher” was a notorious drunkard while the proverb “the pitcher goes so often to the well that it is broken at last” (expressed also as “the jug goes to the well until it breaks” meant “if even the best article is used often enough, eventually it will wear out or break down.

Even for those not convinced by the “language of Shakespeare and Milton” shtick, there are persuasive reasons to learn English.  That may not extend to the playwrights or lyric poets and in truth, most native English-speakers are probably acquainted with the works of William Shakespeare (1564–1616) and John Milton (1608–1674) only through filmed adaptations or the odd (sometimes misquoted or wrongly attributed) phrase but both remain a still influential part of the language’s lineage.  Students new to the tongue probably appreciate some of English’s structural simplicity and come to value the flexibility and wide vocabulary but what must mystify them is the way certain words (with the same pronunciation or spelling (or both)) can enjoy a multiplicity of meanings; indeed some words can appear in the same sentence with one instance meaning one thing and one another.  Apparently this does happen in other languages but in English the phenomenon is thought to be more frequent and the paradox is that despite the huge word count, there are many of these dualities (and beyond) of meaning.

Lindsay Lohan has of late proved a prolific pitcher of products including Pure Leaf Tea.

When being taught the word “pitch”, students surely must think the scope of meanings bizarre.  As a noun “pitch” can be (1) a surface (such as that upon which cricket or other games are played), (2) a relative point, position, or degree (such a “high pitch of excitement”), (3) the highest point or greatest height, (4) in music, speech, etc, “the degree of height or depth of a tone or of sound, depending upon the relative rapidity of the vibrations by which it is produced, (5) in acoustics, the apparent predominant frequency sounded by an acoustical source, (6) the act of throwing, tossing etc or the manner of so doing, (7) in nautical use the movement or forward plunge of a vessel, (8) the extent of the upward or downward inclination of a slope or the slope itself, (9) the advocacy of something for some purpose (often as “sales pitch”), (10) the specific location allotted to or assigned for some person, object or purpose, (11) in aeronautics, the nosing of an airplane or spacecraft up or down about a transverse axis or the distance a given propeller would advance in one revolution (hence there being “variable pitch” and “fixed pitch” propellers, (12) in the flight of rockets or missiles, either the motion due to pitching or the extent of the rotation of the longitudinal axis involved in pitching, (13) in geology, the inclination (from the horizontal) of a linear feature (as the axis of a fold or an ore-shoot) (also called “the plunge”, (14), in mechanical engineering, (14a) the distance between the corresponding surfaces of two adjacent gear teeth measured either along the pitch circle circular pitch or between perpendiculars to the root surfaces normal pitch; (14b) the ratio of the number of teeth in a gear or splined shaft to the pitch circle diameter (expressed in inches or fractions of an inch) or (14c) the distance between any two adjacent things in a series (as screw threads, rivets, holes drilled etc), (15) in carpet weaving) the weft-wise number of warp ends, usually determined in relation to 27 inches (686 mm), (16) in stone masonry, a true or even surface on a stone, (17) in typography, a unit of measurement indicating the number of characters to a horizontal inch, (18) in cards, an alternative name for “all fours” (known also as “high-low-jack”, “old sledge” & “seven-up”), (19) in golf (as a clipping of “pitch shot”), an approach (to the green) shot in which the ball is struck in a high arc, (20) any of various heavy dark viscious substances obtained as a residue from the distillation of tars (often as coal-tar pitch); any of various similar substances, such as asphalt, occurring as natural deposits; any of various similar substances obtained by distilling certain organic substances so that they are incompletely carbonized and (21) crude turpentine obtained as sap from pine trees.

A picture of Lindsay Lohan with pitcher of milk making a “dirty soda” during her pitch for PepsiCo's Pilk promotion.  It was recommended a pilk be enjoyed with a cookie (“biscuit” to those in certain places) but opinion remains divided on the combo.

Once students have begun to master how many forks and layers of meaning can co-exist in “pitch” & “pitcher”, they can then ponder the latter’s homophone: “picture”.  Although it also enjoys other meaning, the core understanding of “picture” is as a representation of anything or anyone and one can exist as a painting, a print, a photograph, a drawing etc with the only definitional constraint probably that it should be on a flat surface; anything beyond that a it becomes an “installation” or something else.  A “three-dimensional picture” remains a picture if the effect is achieved with multi-layer technology but if it becomes topographic beyond the thickness of the paint, it’s probably an installation, model or something else.  Picture was from the Middle English pycture, from the Old French picture, from the Latin pictūra (the art of painting, a painting), from pingō (I paint).  The pitcher vs picture thing is an example (like sealing vs ceiling”) of how words with different spellings and meanings yet the same pronunciation independently can evolve and there are also words with the same spelling and pronunciation meaning different (sometimes even opposite) things (consider “sanction”).

American Gothic (1930), oil on beaverboard by Grant Wood (1891-1942), Art Institute of Chicago.

One of the most discussed, analysed and parodied paintings in twentieth century US art, every aspect of element in American Gothic has likely appeared in at least one earnest thesis and the pitchfork has been held to be as highly symbolic as well an interesting compositional feature.  Structurally, the pitchfork’s vertical shaft functions as a formal echo of other vertical and pointed elements (the architecture and the upright rigidity of the subjects) with the tool’s three tines parallel with both the elongated Gothic window behind and the seams and patterns of the clothing.  The technique lends the work a geometric coherence.  Symbolically, the visual austerity hints at the qualities stereotypically associated with rural Protestant rectitude and obviously, a pitchfork is emblematic of the manual agricultural labor which fulfilled such a vital role in the pre-industrial US.  Tellingly, Wood painted the work just as the effects of the Great Depression were beginning to be felt, threatening rural self-sufficiency and traditional American farming life.  That’s why critics think it significant the farmer’s grip on the handle seems so assertively tight, holding, as it were, onto a way of life which suddenly felt vulnerable, the message one of defiance, the pitchfork a barrier between subjects and viewers.

The picture has always been regarded as a snapshot (however inaccurately) of world-view of those of the Midwestern agrarian population, conveying sternness, frugality, guardedness, moral vigilance, thrift and an abiding suspicion of outsiders, thus the imagining of the pitchfork as a symbolic weapon rather than an emblem of pastoral warmth.  This is not a sentimental piece as so many depictions of rural scenes have been and whether the artist intended American Gothic to be ironic, satirical or a homage has never been certain because Wood at times gave interviewers different hints so it’s there for viewers to make of it what they will but it’s not hard to interpret the pitchfork as the visual spine, both compositionally and symbolically.

Portrait of the Irish playwright and Nobel laureate in literature, George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950), oil on canvas by the Welsh artist Augustus John (1878–1961), Shaw's Corner, Hertfordshire.  In a long life, GBS pitched many things including Esperanto and, as one of the “useful idiots” (the crew contemptuously acknowledged by comrade Vladimir Lenin (1870–1924; head of government of Russia or Soviet Union 1917-1924)), the Soviet Union of comrade Joseph Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953).

In Modern English, as many as 175,000 words are thought to be “the core” (those in general, common use) while the count may be over 600,00 if historic, archaic forms are included and it’d go over a million if scientific and technical coinings were added.  There are of course reasons for this, the obvious one being English was a product of a long evolution with roots in Ancient Greek, Latin, French, various Germanic dialects and more and even when it (sort of) forked into something recognizably “English”, evolution was still often regional with spelling and meanings existing in parallel, centuries before mass-produced dictionaries emerged to begin the path towards standardization.  That messiness was avoided by the Esperantoists of the late nineteenth century who were able to craft their “international auxiliary language” freed from the constraints of existing use and thus achieve a lexicon characterized by words with exclusivity of meaning.  That sounds like it’d make it an attractive alternative to untidy English but English has the unique advantage of a global critical mass, something achieved by (1) the cultural imperialism first of the British Empire and later the United States and (2) being the “native” language of computing, the internet and all that.  Apart from the Greek, Latin and other sources, English proved linguistically a slut, because as explorers, soldiers, traders and colonialists spread globally (variously to explore, battle, trade, exploit, occupy etc), not only did they steal people, resources and land, shamelessly they also absorbed words from Africa, the Middle East and, most numerously, the Indian sub-continent during the British Raj.

This is a representation of “pitch black”.  Although used loosely to mean something like “very dark”, strictly speaking, “pitch black” should be used only to covey the idea of an “absence of light”, the allusion to tar, a black, oily, sticky, viscous substance, consisting mainly of hydrocarbons derived from organic materials such as wood, peat, or coal.

The terms “pitch black”, “pitch darkness” etc are a reference to the blackness of pitch in the sense of “tar” and in mineralogy, pitchblende is a naturally-occurring uranium oxide, a variety of the mineral uraninite.  As a verb, pitch can be used variously as “to pitch a tent” (ie erect one’s tent, that use based on an obsolete use of pitch to mean “firmly to fix (embed) in the ground”), “make a pitch for something” (suggest some course of action or try to sell something”), pitch (throw) a ball (most associated with baseball), cut a stone with a chisel.  In (now obsolete) historic military jargon, “to pitch” was “to arrange the field of battle” and although the term has fallen from use, the practice persists although few field commanders would now suggest the object is (as once did Field Marshal Lord Bernard Montgomery, 1887–1976) to make things “clean and tidy”.  Also now obsolete is the use of “to pitch” meaning “to settle down (in one place); to become established”; that had been based on the old use meaning “firmly to fix (embed) in the ground”.

Comrade Fidel Castro (1926–2016; prime-minister or president of Cuba 1959-2008, left) and Jimmy Carter (b 1924; POTUS 1977-1981), Estadio Latinoamericano (Latin American Stadium), Havana, Cuba, May 2002.  In Mr Carter's right hand is the baseball he's about to pitch.

In baseball, the “ceremonial first pitch” is a “symbolic pitch” (ie one with no consequence in the game) staged as a prelude to the game proper.  POTUESes and others have been among the celebrities engaged as “ceremonial pitchers” and some have proved more adept than others.  Jimmy Carter in 2002 made a private visit to Havana with the hope of improving relations between Cuba and the US, strained since the Cuban revolution in 1959.  In the short term, little that could be called substantive would be achieved but what would now be called “the optics” were good, comrade Castro inviting the former president to throw the ceremonial first pitch at a Cuban League All-Star Game in Havana's Estadio Latinoamericano.  Apparently, baseball fan comrade Castro personally provided training in “making the perfect pitch” but, just to be sure, Mr Carter also had a few sessions with his Secret Service detail, reportedly on the roof of his hotel.  On the night, he threw what was described as “a good pitch” and it was well received by the capacity crowd, the event in the history books as a rare example of diplomacia del beisbol (baseball diplomacy) and the sport does appear in the odd footnote in presidential histories.  On the opening day (13 April) of the 1964 MLB (Major League Baseball) season at Washington DC’s District of Columbia Stadium (now the Robert F. Kennedy Memorial Stadium), Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1969-1969) set the record for the most hot dogs eaten by a president on Opening Day, all four scoffed down in the approved manner (ie without resort to knife & fork).  The record still stands, something which must not have been brought to the attention of Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) because, if he knew, there would have been a post on Truth Social correcting the record by revealing he'd once eaten five.

Baseball has variants of the position of pitcher (the player who throws the ball to the opposition batter) including “non-pitcher” (team member who does not pitch and is thus obliged to bat, “relief pitcher” (a pitcher who takes the place of the “starting pitcher” (or another relief pitcher) in cases of injury, ineffectiveness, ejection from the game or fatigue, “switch pitcher” (a pitcher who play ambidextrously (pitches both right & left-handed), “setup pitcher” (a relief pitcher who pitches usually in the 8^th inning to maintain a lead, serving as the bridge to the closer in the 9^th, “middle relief pitcher” (MRP) (a relief pitcher who pitches usually the 5^th, 6^th or 7^th innings to bridge the gap between the starting pitcher and late-inning relievers (setup or closer pitchers) and “closer pitcher” (A specialist relief pitcher skilled in securing the final outs, typically in the 9^th inning, to protect a narrow lead or ear a “save”.

Bedint

Bedint (pronounced buh-dent (U) or bed-ent (non-U))

(1) Something which suggests a bourgeois aspiration to the tastes or habits of the upper classes.

(2) A generalized expression of disapproval of anyone or anything not in accord with the social standards or expectation of the upper classes.

(3) Any behavior thought inappropriate (ie something of which one for whatever reason disapproves).

1920s:  A coining attributed to variously to (1) English writer and diplomat Harold Nicolson (1886–1968), (2) his wife, the writer Vita Sackville-West (1892–1962) or (3) speculatively, Vita Sackville-West’s family.  The word is of Germanic origin and although there are variants, the source of all was the Middle Dutch bedienen, the construct being be- +‎ dienen.  The Middle Dutch be- was from the Old Dutch bi- & be-, from the Middle High German be-, from the Old High German bi-, from the Proto-Germanic bi-, from the primitive Indo-European hepi and was used to indicate a verb is acting on a direct object.  Dienen was from the Middle Dutch dienen, from the Old Dutch thienon, from the Proto-Germanic þewanōną and meant "to be of assistance to, to serve; to serve (at a tavern or restaurant); to operate (a device)".  In the rituals of the Roman Catholic Church, it has the specific technical meaning "to administer the last sacraments (the last rites)".  A bedient (the second third-person singular present indicative of bedienen) was thus a servant, a waiter etc.  The acceptable pronunciation is buh-dent while bed-int, be-dit or anything else is the depth of bedintism.  Bedint is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is bedints.  As a non-standard word, there are no derived forms but, for humorous effect, some have appeared including the nouns, bedintism bedinity & bedintism and the adjectives bedinted, bedintish & bedintesque.  Caution must be exercised because the very use of the word can be judged bedint.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011.  

The idea thus is exemplified by a maître d'hôtel (head waiter) who, well dressed and well mannered, appears superficially not dissimilar to someone from the upper classes but of course is someone from a lower class, adopting for professional reasons, some of their characteristics (dress, manner, speech (and sometimes snobbery) etc).  Whoever coined the word, it was certainly popularized by Harold Nicholson and Vita Sackville-West, neither of whom were much reticent in finding fault in others.  It seems initially to have been their shared code for discussing such things but soon became common currency amongst the smart set in which they moved and from there, eventually entered the language although not all dictionaries acknowledge its existence and it should probably be thought non-standard.  It one of those words which need not be taken too seriously and is most fun to use if played with a bit (bedintish, bedintesque, bedintingly bedinded, bedintism, bedintology etc).  As a word, although from day one weaponized, bedint was subject to mission-creep to the point where, as Lewis Carroll's (pen name of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832–1898) Humpty Dumpty "in rather a scornful tone" explained to Alice in Alice Through the Looking-Glass (1871): "When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less."

Figures from the lost, pre-1914 world: Harold Nicolson & Vita-Sackville West, London, 1913.

As originally used by Nicolson & Sackville-West, bedint was one the many linguistic tools of exclusion and snobbery; these devices exist among all social classes, some of which, when part of “working-class consciousness” or similar constructs are classified as “inverted snobbery”.  Bedint was used to refer to anyone not from the layers of the upper class (royalty, the aristocracy, the gentry) in some way aping the behavior or manners of “their betters”; the behavior need not be gauche or inappropriate, just that of someone “not one of us”.  Nicolson didn’t exclude himself from his own critique and, as one who “married up” into the socially superior Sackville family, was his whole life acutely aware of what behaviors of his might be thought bedint, self-labelling as he thought he deserved.  His marriage he never thought at all bedint although many of those he condemned as bedint would have found it scandalously odd, however happy the diaries of both parties suggest that for almost fifty years it was.

Harold Nicolson & Vita-Sackville West, Sissinghurst Castle Garden, Kent, 1932.

Bedint as a word proved so useful however that it came to be applied to members of the upper classes (even royalty) were they thought guilty of some transgression (like dullness) or hobbies thought insufficiently aristocratic (ie "a bit middle class" which was about as bad as insults got).  The idea of some behavior not befitting one’s social status was thus still a thread but by the post-war years, when bedint had entered vocabulary of the middle-class (a bedint thing in itself one presumes Nicolson and Sackville-West would have thought), it was sometimes little more than a synonym for bad behavior (poor form as they might have said), just an expression of disapproval.  That didn't mean all "non-typical" behavior was bedint because certain eccentricities or a bohemian lifestyle might be tolerated or even admired.  Bedint-tagging can thus be thought as something within the rubric of labeling theory.  

Harold Nicolson & Vita-Sackville West, Sissinghurst Castle Garden, Kent, 1960.

The biographical work on Nicolson reveals a not especially likable snob but, in common with many fine and sharp-eyed diarists, he seems to have been good company though perhaps best enjoyed in small doses.  One of those figures (with which English political life is studded) remembered principally for having been almost a successful politician, almost a great writer or almost a viceroy, he even managed to be almost a lord but, despite switching party allegiances to curry favor with the Labour government (1945-1951), the longed-for peerage was never offered and he was compelled to accept a knighthood.  His KCVO (Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order, an honor in the personal gift of the sovereign) was granted in 1953 in thanks for his generous (though well-reviewed and received) biography of the stamp-collecting George V (1865-1936, King of England 1910-1936) although those who could read between the lines found it not hard to work out which of the monarch’s activities the author thought bedint.  As it was, Nicolson took his KCVO, several rungs down the ladder of the Order of Precedence, accepting it only "faute de mieux" (in the absence of anything better) and describing it “a bedint knighthood”, wondering if, given the shame, he should resign from his clubs.

Wedding day: Duff Cooper & Lady Diana Manners, St Margaret's Church, London, 2 June 1919.

So a knighthood, a thing which many have craved, can be bedint if it's not the right knighthood.  When the Tory politician Duff Cooper (1890–1954) ended his term (1944-1948) as the UK's ambassador to France, the Labor government (which had kept him on) granted a GCMG (Knight Grand Commander of the order of St Michael & St George) and although he thought his years as a cabinet minister might have warranted a peerage, he accepted while wryly noting in his diary it was hardly something for which he should  be congratulated because: "No ambassador in Paris has ever failed to acquire the it since the order was invented and the Foreign Office has shown how much importance they attach to it by conferring it simultaneously on my successor Oliver Harvey (1893-1968), who is, I suppose, the least distinguished man who has ever been appointed to the post".  Still, Cooper took his "bedint" GCMG and when a Tory government returned to office, he was, shortly before his death, raised to the peerage, choosing to be styled Viscount Norwich of Aldwick.  His wife (Lady Diana Cooper (1892–1986) didn't fancy becoming "Lady Norwich" because she though it "sounded like porridge" (additionally, she had good "brand recognition") and took the precaution of placing notices in The Times and Daily Telegraph telling all who mattered she would continue to be styled "Lady Diana Cooper".  They had a "modern marriage" so differences between them were not unusual.

Tavern

Tavern (pronounced tav-ern)

(1) In certain jurisdictions, a place where liquors are sold to be consumed on the premises.

(2) In certain jurisdictions, a name used what in other places might be called a bar, pub, hotel etc.

(2) Loosely used, an alternative name for a bar, pub etc in the sense of being a place where one can buy and consume alcohol.

1250–1300: From the Middle English taverne, from the mid-thirteenth century Old French taverne (shed made of boards, booth, stall (also “inn; wine shop”), from the Latin taberna (hut, inn, wine shop).  The Latin taberna originally described any “hut or shed”, the meaning later extended to “inn; wine shop” (presumably reflecting the building from which strong drink was first sold), a possible origin of the word a dissimilation from traberna, from trabs (genitive trabis) (beam, timber), from the primitive Indo-European treb- (dwelling) (the source also of the Lithuanian troba (a building), the Old Welsh treb (house, dwelling), the Welsh tref (a dwelling (literally "hamlet, home, town”)), the Irish treb (residence) and the Old English ðorp (village, hamlet, farm, estate).  If that’s accepted, the original meaning was something like "a wooden shed", some aspect of the mode of construction thus providing the name, something not unknown in architecture (eg glasshouse, A-Frame etc).  In English, the additional meaning of “a public house” (source of the modern “pub”) emerged in the mid fifteenth century.  The alternative spellings were tavarn, tavarne, taveron, tawern & tawerne.  Tavern, tavernkeeper & taverner are nouns; the noun plural is taverns.

In the business of selling liquor, outlets have variously been named bar, pub, public house, hostelry, hotel, lounge, inn, lodge, saloon, barroom, taphouse, alehouse, roadhouse, speakeasy & drinkery.  In slang, the names are legion including dive, pit, suds, joint, boozer, joint, watering hole and probably a dozen more.  In general use, the words pub, bar, tavern and inn have long been used interchangeably and inn & tavern in particular have become general terms of commerce and an establishment which might, upon a deconstruction of its trade, appear historically understood as a tavern might actually be called an inn of some type, something which might once have confused but now is probably never noticed, business done according to the terms of the license which (in most jurisdictions) must be on public display (usually framed and in some dark, obscure corner).

Lindsay Lohan outside a (studio set) tavern door, Anger Management, March 2013.

The differences did though once matter.  Inns and taverns began to appear in some number in the towns & villages of England, Wales & Scotland during the twelfth & thirteenth centuries, the institutions providing an important infrastructure for the both the travelers of the age and the social life of communities.  The function of an inn was to provide lodgings for those traveling while taverns were drinking houses, ale at the time (long before clean drinking water was an assumed part of a civilized existence) as vital a part of British life as bread & cheese.  It was also a time of limited intrusion from government and well into the medieval era, anyone with a vaguely suitable building could start brewing ale and set up business as a tavern; taverns accordingly proliferated and it would be rare to find a village of any size without one.  Inns were different in that they offered lodgings, overnight accommodation for those on the traveling and while they usually had a place where a guest’s horse could be fed, watered and stabled, they didn’t always offer ale for sale though meals were usually available.  Sometimes, in the interest of synergy, a village’s inn and tavern would operate co-operatively, each serving the customer within their own fields of specialization.

Lindsay Lohan in the pub enjoying a cocktail, August 2022.

Gradually, things became more regulated and businesses expanded their range of operations, taverns beginning to offer food (simple snacks served at the bar or table) while inns operated as quasi-ale houses although service was usually restricted to drinks taken with meals.  From these practices emerged the classic model of licensing used in many parts of the English-speaking world (although the terminology might vary between jurisdictions.  There were (1) taverns which were licensed to serve alcoholic drinks and simple (often packaged) snacks, (2) public houses (universally known as pubs) which offered rooms for overnight accommodation and the provision of meals for guests (at least breakfast & dinner) with the service of alcohol restricted usually to beer and wine and available only to be taken with meals and (3) inns of residence which offered only rooms for rent.  Governments imposed the highest licensing fees on taverns, that levied on pubs considerably less because they discharged their social license by offering a vital service.  Inns often didn’t need to be licensed although local authorities might impose higher rates or land taxes based on the commercial nature of the operation.  In the modern era, things have changed and although by historic definition a place like the New York Hilton Midtown might be a pub, few would describe such places as such, the modern use being “hotel” while “inn” has devolved to be a marketing term, “pub” “tavern” & “bar” becoming more or less synonymous and used thus irrespective of what appears on the license.

Perpendicular

Perpendicular (pronounced pur-puhn-dik-yuh-ler)

(1) Vertical; straight up and down; upright; normal at right angles to a horizontal plane.

(2) In geometry, meeting a given line or surface at right angles.

(3) Maintaining a standing or upright position; standing up; exactly upright; extending in a straight line toward the centre of the earth, etc.

(4) In architecture, noting or pertaining to the last style of English Gothic, prevailing from the late fourteenth to the early sixteenth centuries and characterized by by stiff, rectilinear lines and the use of predominantly vertical tracery, an overall linear, shallow effect, depressed or four-centre arch, fan-tracery vaulting, panelled walls and fine intricate stonework (should be used with an initial capital letter so it’s not confused with being a purely geometric reference).

(5) In rock-climbing, a sharply pitched or precipitously steep mountain face.

(6) Moral virtue or uprightness; rectitude (largely obsolete).

(7) In Admiralty jargon, either of two lines perpendicular to the keel line, base line, or designed water line of a vessel.

(8) In surveying, a device such as a plumb line that is used in making or marking a perpendicular line.

(9) In historic slang, a meal taken while standing at the bar of a tavern (obsolete).

1350–1400: From the Middle French perpendiculaire, from the Old French perpendiculer, from the Latin perpendiculāris (vertical, as a plumb line), the construct being perpendicul(um) (plumb line), from pendēre (to weigh hang) and perpendere (carefully to balance (the construct of which was per- (thoroughly) + pendēre (to hang, cause to hang; to weigh)) from the primitive Indo-European root spen & pen (to draw, stretch, spin) + āris.  The suffix -aris was a form of -ālis with dissimilation of -l- to -r- after roots containing an l (the alternative forms were -ālis, -ēlis, -īlis & -ūlis); it was used to form adjectives, usually from noun, indicating a relationship or a "pertaining to”.  The French borrowing replaced the Middle English perpendiculer(e) and is the source of the modern pendant.  The noun from existed from the 1570s (the earlier noun was the circa 1400 perpendicle) and in astronomy, navigation and related matters, it was in the late fifteenth century the sense of a line "lying at right angles to the horizon" developed from an earlier adverb referring to "at right angles to the horizon.

The noun perpensity (consideration, a pondering, careful attention) appears first to have been used in the early eighteenth century, the construct being the Latin perpens- (past-participle stem of perpendere (carefully to balance) and has since the late nineteenth century been listed either as archaic or obsolete.  Perpendicular is a noun and adjective, perpendicularness & perpendicularity are nouns and perpendicularly is an adverb; the noun plural is perpendiculars.  Although perpendicular describes what nominally is an absolute value, most dictionaries acknowledge the comparative more as perpendicular & the superlative as most perpendicular, reflecting the use of the word to describe also the “quality of that which tends towards”, hence the existence in geometry, mathematics, architecture & engineering of the presumably helpful adjective quasiperpendicular to refer to the mysterious “partially perpendicular”.

In audio engineering, a perpendicular recording is the technique of creating magnetic data storage using vertical as opposed to longitudinal magnetization.  The synonym used in a technical context is orthogonal (independent of or irrelevant to each other).  To most, the idea of the perpendicular is simple but it’s been borrowed to describe some complex concepts such as the perpendicular universe (though these perhaps by definition seem usually to be referred to in the plural as perpendicular universes) which exists to distinguish it from a parallel universe (which must in some way be different).  The perpendicular universe is thus one of the competing notions (some insist these are legitimate theories) of multiple universes which are in some way parallel (as opposed to sequential or circular) though not of necessity perpendicular.  Seems clear enough.

The Perpendicular Pronoun:  The first-person singular pronoun "I"

There is a general rule defining when to use “I” or “me” in a sentence and that is the first person singular pronoun is “I” when it’s a subject and “me” when it’s an object (the subject is the person or thing doing something, and the object is having something done to it and the often quoted example to illustrate the difference is the sentence “I love you”.  “I” is the subject of the sentence. “You” is the object of the sentence (also the object of one's affection).

Lindsay Lohan and her sister Aliana at the Melbourne Cup, 2019.

In most cases it’s easier to deconstruct the sentence than think about the rule.  To work if one should say (1) “Lindsay and I are going to the Melbourne Cup” or (2) “Lindsay and me are going to the Melbourne Cup”, deconstruction confirms (1) is correct because “I am going to the Melbourne Cup” works and “Me is going to The Melbourne Cup” does not.  That’s fine but because “me” is often wrongly used, something of a perception has evolved to suggest it must always be wrong and “I” must always be correct. However, everything depends on the sentence.  It’s correct to say “Lindsay and I both picked the winning horse” but it’s also right to say “A selfie of the winning horse with Lindsay and me”, something which can be checked by redacting either “Lindsay and” or “and me”.

Lindsay Lohan in Falling for Christmas (Netflix, 2022)

Modern English use has anyway actually banished the perpendicular pronoun from places where once it was a marker of the educated.  To say “It is I” remains supported by historic grammatical correctness but sounds now so strange (because the common form is “It’s me”) that many would it’s wrong.  Pedants fret over things like this but the world has moved on and if in answer to the question “Is that you Ali” the response came “This is she”, the antiquated correctness might discombobulate one while “It’s me” would not.

Palace

Palace (pronounced pal-is)

(1) The official residence of an emperor, king, queen, bishop or other exalted personage.

(2) A large and stately mansion or building.

(3) A large and often ornate structure used for entertainment, exhibitions etc.

(4) To decorate or ornate (obsolete).

1200–1250: From the Middle English palais (official residence of an emperor, king, queen, archbishop etc), from the earlier paleys, from the Old French palais (palace, court), from the Medieval Latin palācium (“a palace” and a spelling variant of the Classical palātium (generic use of Palātium, in reference to the Palatine (from Mons Palatinus (the Palatine Hill)), one of the seven hills of Ancient Rome, where the aristocracy of the Roman Republic (and later the emperors) built large, splendid residences)).  The hill’s name may be from the Latin palus (stake) on the notion of "an enclosure" while some speculate it’s from the Etruscan and connected with Pales (said to be although this too is contested “an Italic goddess of shepherds, flocks and livestock).  One noted etymologist linked it with palatum "roof of the mouth; dome, vault", the rationale being that because “palate” can be referred to as a “flattened or vaulted” part and the terms “flat” and “vaulted” are often applied to hills in accordance with their shape; on that basis, the idea of a derivation of palatium from palatum seems compelling.  Palācium was the source also of the Spanish palacio and the Italian palazzo.  The modern French palace is a direct borrowing from the English which was from the Old French palais.  In English, the general sense of "magnificent, stately, or splendid dwelling place" emerged by circa 1300 and the ironic sense is documented from the early 1600s although it may have been in oral use earlier.  The French palais was the source of the German Palast, the Swedish palats and other Germanic forms whereas others, such as Old English palant and the Middle High German phalanze (Pflaz in modern German) are from the Medieval Latin word.  Palace is a noun, palaced & palace-like are adjective, palacing is a verb and palaceward an adverb.  The noun plural is palaces.

The noun palazzo (large and imposing building) was from the 1660s, from Italian palazzo.  The adjective palatial (of the nature of a palace, magnificent) dates from 1754 and was from the French palatial (magnificent) from the Latin palātium (see palace); the adverb palatially is noted from 1761.  In Middle English there was palasin (literally "belonging to a palace or court"), dating from circa 1400, from the Old French and palatian (1845) was a revival in that sense and most associated with the palaces of India under the Raj.  Palacious, noted first in the 1620s, meant “magnificent, of the nature of a palace” but is long obsolete.  The noun paladin is from the 1590s and was used by those (many) authors of the medieval romance cycle (one of the twelve knightly champions in attendance on Charlemagne and accompanying him to war) and was from the sixteenth century French paladin (a warrior), from the from Italian paladino, from the Latin palatinus (palace official), noun use of palatinus (of the palace).  In the Old French the spelling was palaisin (from which Middle English gained the circa 1400 palasin) but the Italian form prevailed, even though the subject matter was French, simply because most of the poets attracted to most of the poets attracted to the tales were Italian.  The extended sense of "a heroic champion" dates from 1788 and the modern use is often negative in the sense of describing operatives and functionaries associated with political leaders.

In the palace: Lindsay Lohan meeting with Recep Tayyip Erdoğan (b 1954; prime-minister or president of the Republic of Türkiye since 2003), Presidential Palace, Ankara, Türkiye, 27 January 2017.

The adjective palatine (possessing quasi-royal privileges (literally "pertaining to a palace)), was by the mid-fifteenth century applied to counties and non-sovereign states, conveying the meaning "ruled by a lord who has privileges resembling those of an independent sovereign"; it was from the fifteenth century Old French palatin and directly from the Medieval Latin palatinus (of the palace (ie "of the Caesars”), from palātium.  In Medieval Latin there was palatinus, a title given to one holding any office in the palace of a prince, hence "possessing royal privileges" and best understood as something like the “courtesy titles” which are a feature of the UK’s system of peerage.  The German state of Rhineland-Palatinate was created in 1946 (as part of the abolition of Prussia) and is made up of parts of the former states of Prussia, Bavaria & Hesse (including Bavaria’s former Palatinate kreis (district)).  The historic Rhineland state was once an electorate in the Holy Roman Empire and by the early eighteenth century, Palatinate was also a noun meaning "resident of or immigrant from the German Palatine".

1200-odd rooms and twenty times the size of the White House: The Quirinal Palace, Rome.  Had things worked out better for Napoleon Boneparte (1769-1821), the Quirinal would have be the seat of his imperial rule. 

There had long been houses larger than others but as legend has it, it’s Nero (Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, 37–68; Roman emperor 54-68) who is regarded as having ordered the first.  Rome’s Palantine hill had always been a central part of the city but as the metropolis spread, it became the smartest “suburb” and the place many rich and prominent citizens built their houses.  Noting this, the Emperor Nero ordered all on the hill be evicted and their properties purchased so a vast and elaborate dwelling could be erected for him alone and this was named the palātium (literally “on the site of the palatine”).  From this history is ultimately derived the synecdochic and metonymic use of palace, the general “the palace” historically referring to the views or policies of kings and more recently to whatever may be thought or done by the now more typically non-royal inhabitants.

The Élysée Palace, Paris.

Sometimes, the reference may be specific such as “the Quirinal” (referencing Rome’s Quirinal Palace), used variously and metonymically for (1) the Italian civil government as opposed to that of the Holy See in the Vatican, (2) the (2) the court of the king as opposed to the fascist government of the Duce and (3) in Modern Italy the office of the (indirectly elected and mostly ceremonial) presidency as opposed to that of the (popularly elected and executive) prime-minister.  The use is common in countries where the head of state or government is in some way associated (though not of necessity resident) with a palace although the form of use varies for reasons which may be historic or linguistic.  In France, it’s usually “the Élysée” when speaking of the government (or sometimes of the president vis-à-vis the government) although BBC journalists do seem fond of “the Élysée Palace”.  The BBC may also be a good guide to use in the UK, impressionistically preferring “the palace” for home consumption and “Buckingham Palace” when seeking to make clear to foreign audiences that much of what is attributed to the Queen of England is really the thoughts of the royal court, an operation at the scale of a SMB (small & medium business) which runs “the firm”.  Either way, pronouncements from “the palace” or “Buckingham Palace” which once concerned the great affairs of Church, state and empire, seem now more often about family scandals and squabbles.  In the Philippines, both “Malacañang Palace” and “Malacañang” are used to refer to executive government, the choice dictated seemingly by whichever best suits the sentence construction.

A palace guard, Buckingham Palace, London.

In idiomatic use, a “palace coup” (short for Coup d'état (literally "blow of state")) is a general term indicating one faction or family member has overthrown another, something which can be as innocuous as a vote or as dramatic as actual regicide.  A “palace revolution” is actually the same thing but it would be handy if a convention of use could evolve whereby it indicates the more violent events while coups can suggest more civilized changes.  A “palace guard” is literally a police or military squad which provides both physical security and a ceremonial presence at a palace; figuratively it refers to any group protecting someone or something.  A puck palace is an informal North American terms to describe an especially impressive ice hockey stadium.

Pink gin.

The casual term gin palace (literally “A tavern that serves gin”) is anything thought a bit disreputable and a bit gaudy, reflecting London society’s disapproval of the corroding effects of gin on the working class.  A memorable variation was the “floating gin palace, applied to the Royal Navy’s HMS Agincourt, a dreadnought launched in 1913 and fitted out with unusual elaborateness because it’d originally been built to the specification of a foreign navy, the luxury attracting wits who, noting the corruption of her name (A Gin Court) and the alleged fondness by captains and admirals afloat for Pink Gin (Plymouth Gin with a dash of Angostura bitters, the bitters lending the mix a pinkish hue), decided it should be call the “floating gin palace”.

HMS Agincourt, Scapa Flow, Scotland, 1918.

HMS Agincourt was an unusual ship with a curious history and a design unique in the Admiralty list.  Built originally for the Brazilians, then in the throes of the brief but intense South American naval arms race, before completion she was sold to the Ottoman Empire but, with the outbreak of war in 1914, the ship was seized by the British, an act which some historians maintain influenced Turkey to ally with the Central Powers, thereby triggering a chain of events which included the Allied attempt to force the straits of the Dardanelles (remembered in Australia & New Zealand as the Gallipoli campaign) and the eventual break-up of the Ottoman Empire, unleashing forces which to this day still ripple across the region from the Rock of Gibraltar to the Persian Gulf.  The geopolitical speculations aside, Agincourt was of note for being the dreadnought which mounted more heavy guns (fourteen) and more turrets (seven) than any other.  Although that configuration didn’t represent the current thinking in naval architecture, it was certainly in keeping with the Brazil’s requirement for an especially impressive looking ship, rather than one optimized for a high-seas battle.

HMS Agincourt's stern gun turrets.

Reflecting this too was what remains reputedly the largest wardroom (85 x 60 feet (25.9 x 18.3 m) ever installed on a warship and one luxuriously equipped with tableware, crystal & silverware.  That was said to be an impressive sight but so must have been the wall of flame created the first time she fired those fourteen twelve inch (305 mm) naval canons in a broadside, observers noting it was “was awe inspiring and enough to enough to create the impression the ship had blown up”.  Dramatic though it was, the floating gin palace was undamaged, despite the concern of some that a broadside of 12,040 lb (5461 KG) (14 x 12 inch (305 mm) guns firing 860 lb (390 KG) shells) would impose a damaging load on the superstructure.  However, other dreadnoughts, such as the Iron Duke endured 14,000 lb (6350 KG) broadsides (10 x 13½ inch (343 mm) guns firing 1,400 lb (635 KG) shells) without ill-effect and the Agincourt too sailed serenely on.  However, much of the elegant tableware and glassware did shatter and little of what remained surviving subsequent broadsides.  Like much of the fleet, the floating gin palace saw little action during the war although she was part of the inconclusive Battle of Jutland (1916).  Agincourt was struck from the fleet in 1919 and scrapped in 1922 to meet the terms of the Washington Naval Treaty (1922).

1965 Citroën DS21 Pallas (left) & 2020 Citroën DS E Pallas Homage Study.

Citroën introduced the DS in 1955 and, because "DS" is a homophone of déesse (goddess), almost immediately it picked-up the nickname goddess.  In 1965, the factory introduced an up-market version of the DS called the Pallas, not an allusion to the luxury of palaces but a borrowing from Greek mythology, Pallas the goddess of wisdom and useful arts and prudent warfare; Pallas often used as an epithet of Athena.  The idea was that the Pallas would be thought the "goddess of Goddesses".  Citroën have since applied the Pallas moniker to many models and in 2020 a designer created the Citroën DS E Pallas Homage Study, imagining a possible electric vehicle.