Laurel

Laurel (pronounced lawruhl or lor-uhl)

(1) A small European evergreen tree, Laurus nobilis, of the Lauraceae family, having dark, glossy green leaves (known also as the bay tree or sweet bay).  Trees & shrubs belonging to (or resembling) the natural order Lauraceae are said to be lauraceous.  When used as an adjective (not in the strict botanical sense), the comparative is more lauraceous, the superlative most lauraceous.

(2) Any tree of the genus Laurus.

(3) In general use, any of various similar trees or shrubs, as the mountain laurel or the great rhododendron.

(4) The foliage of the laurel as an emblem of victory or distinction.

(5) A branch or wreath of laurel foliage.

(6) In the plural (laurels or victory laurels), an award conferred (literally or figuratively) as an honor for achievement in some field or activity.

(7) An English gold coin minted in 1619, so called because the king's head was crowned with laurel.

(8) In many color charts, a green of a darker hue.

(9) To adorn or enwreathe with laurel.

(10) To honor with marks of distinction.

(11) A female given name (there have been rare instances of male use, including as a "second name" referencing some relative).

1250–1300: A dissimilated variant of the Middle English laurer (laurel), from the Anglo-Norman, from the twelfth century Old French laurier & lorier (bay tree; laurel tree), the construct being lor (bay) + -ier, from the Medieval Latin laurārius, from the Latin laurus (laurel tree), thought related to the Greek daphne (laurel), probably from a pre-Indo-European Mediterranean language.  The French suffix -ier was from the Middle French -ier & -er, from the Old French, from the Latin -ārium, the accusative of -ārius.  It was used to form the names of trees, ships, jobs etc.  The second -r- in the Middle English laurer changed to -l- by process of dissimilation.  Laurel & laureate are nouns & verbs, laureateship & laurustinus are nouns, laureled & laurelled are verbs & adjectives and lauriferous & lauraceous are adjectives; the noun plural is laurels.

Lindsay Lohan fridge magnet by Alexanton.  Laurel Hollow is an incorporated village in Nassau County on the North Shore of Long Island, New York, within the Town of Oyster Bay (where Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; POTUS 1901-1909) died).

The use to describe an emblem of victory or of distinction (hence the phrase “to rest on one’s laurels” (the original form was “repose upon”)) dates from 1831.  The phrase is now used used in the cautionary sense “don’t rest on your laurels”, a warning not to rely on a reputation gained through past successes but instead continue to strive and improve.  The companion phrase “look to your laurels” is an idiomatic expression (known in Antiquity) meaning one needs to be vigilant and attentive to one's accomplishments, skills or position because there will be those eager to surpass or outshine you.  Like “don’t rest on your laurels”, it stresses the importance of maintaining one’s competitive edge.  It was a bay leaf from a laurel shrub that Πυθία (Pythia, priestess of Pythian Apollo at Delphi) chewed during her prophetic trances.

Sirens and the Night (1865) by William Edward Frost (1810-1877).

Although most associated with women (the feminine variants including Laura, Lauren, Lori and Lorraine), Laurel is a unisex given name.  It was related to the German Lorelie and in Germanic mythology there were several tales of the lovely maiden Lorelei (luring rock) who lived upon a rock in the River Rhine.  She lured fishermen to their deaths by singing songs of such beauty they couldn't resist, a variation of the stories of the Sirens in Greek mythology.  The Sirens were legendarily beautiful but deadly creatures who used their lyrical and earthly charms to lure sailors to their death.  Attracted by their enchanting music and voices, the intrigued seafarers would sail too close to the rocky coast of the Siren’s island and be shipwrecked, there to suffer a worse fate still at the hands of the hungry Sirens.  In Homer's Odyssey (an epic poem from perhaps as long ago as the eighth century BC), it was Odysseus who most famously escaped the sirens.  Longing to hear their songs but, forewarned by Circe and having no wish to be shipwrecked and devoured, he had his sailors fill their ears with beeswax, rendering them deaf.  Then, he ordered he be tied to the mast, telling his crew that whatever he said, they were not to release him but instead tighten the knots, not cutting the bonds until the ship had sailed far from the coast.  Of course, approaching the rocks, he heard the lovely voices and implored the crew to release him but they followed their skipper’s orders, not setting him free until the danger had passed.  Some writers claimed the Sirens were doomed to die if a man heard their singing and escaped and, as Odysseus sailed off, they flung themselves into the waters and drowned but, among the myths, that was not always their fate.  Not untypically for the myths of Antiquity, the Sirens are said to have had many homes.  The Romans said they lived on some small islands called Sirenum scopuli while later authors place them variously on the islands of Anthemoessa, on Cape Pelorum, on the islands of the Sirenuse, near Paestum, or in Capreae.  All were places with rocky coasts and tall cliffs and thus for ships potentially lethal places although the fate of sailors was more gruesome, the Sirens devouring them.  The Argonauts sailed close to the Sirens, but, using the same principle as “radio jamming” in the twentieth century, Orpheus sang as long as the crew was within earshot of them (“drowning out their signal”), so none were lured (except the unfortunate Butes, carried away by Aphrodite after he fell victim).

#metoo: Apolo persiguiendo a Dafne (Apollo chasing Daphne (circa 1637)), oil on canvas by Theodoor van Thulden (1606–1669) after Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640), Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid.

The feminine proper name Daphne was from the Greek daphne (laurel, bay tree) and in mythology was the name of a nymph.  Etymologists conclude the word is related to the Latin laurus (laurel) although the mechanism has been lost in time.  In Greek mythology, Δάφνη (Daphne), daughter of the River Ladon (and sometimes of the Thessalian River Peneus), was a nymph with whom the God Apollo fell in love; he was provoked by Cupid, having disputed with him the power of his darts which Apollo, the recent conqueror of the Python, belittled.  When he pursued her to the banks of the Peneus, she was saved from being ravished by the god who transformed her into a Laurel tree, the origin of Apollo being so often depicted crowned with laurel leaves.  None of the writers from Antiquity seem ever to have pondered whether the nymph, had she been offered time to consider the choice between being ravished by a Greek god or becoming eternally arboreous, might have preferred to permit a slice be cut from the loaf.  While at the time not of much consolation to the unfortunate Daphne, Apollo ordained that the laurels should be the prize for poets and victors and, being, at least briefly, a sentimental chap, Apollo adopted the laurel as his favorite tree so there’s that.  The site of temples and a stadium, the Grove of Daphne was a pleasure resort of renowned natural beauty, dedicated to Apollo and located near Antioch.  

Apollo and Daphne (1622-1625), sculpture in white Carrara marble by Gianlorenzo Bernini (1598–1680), Galleria Borghese, Rome.

Being a Greek myth, there are of course variants in the tales and in a Laconian version, Daphne was the daughter of Amyclas who spent her days among the mountains where she was a favourite of Artemis.  From afar, Leucippus fell in love with her and, disguising himself as a girl, joined her companions.  Daphne became fond of him (thinking him a her), but Apollo became jealous and vowing to expose his trickery, inspired Daphne and her companions with a wish to bathe.  Leucippus, obviously, hesitated to remove his clothing, but his companions forcibly undressed him and, feeling betrayed upon discovering his identity, they attacked him, his life saved only by the gods rendering him invisible.  At this point, Apollo dashed to try to seize Daphne but she ran off and in answer to her prayer, Zeus turned her into a laurel.  Latter-day interpretations of Daphne's fate have differed.  While her name lives on as a tragic hero (the girl who gave up her life rather than succumb to a sexual assault) some feminists have criticized the notion that a victim of such a crime should be transformed into something silent and thus uncomplaining.

Audrey Hepburn (1929–1993) in a “laurel leaves” hat designed by Hubert de Givenchy (1927–2018), photograph by Howell Conant (1916–1999), Switzerland, February 1962.

As an adjective, laureate (crowned with laurels as a mark of distinction) dates from the late fourteenth century and the earliest reference was to poets of particular distinction, from the Latin laureatus (crowned with laurel), from laurea (laurel crown; emblematic of victory or distinction in poetry), from the feminine laureus (of laurel).  The first known use of Laureat poete is in Geoffrey Chaucer’s (circa 1344-1400) Canterbury Tales (1387-1400) in reference to Scholar and poet of early Renaissance Italy, Petrarch (Francesco Petrarca (1304–1374), and it was used in Middle English of Greek fabulist Aesop (circa 620–564 BC) and, by the early fifteenth century of Chaucer himself.

In English the inverted form “poet laureate” was in imitation of Latin word order and although used informally since the early 1400s, the evidence suggests the first appointed by the state was probably (and perhaps posthumously) Ben Jonson (circa 1572–circa 1637) in 1638 although the first for whom the letters patent remain extant was John Dryden (1631–1700).  In the UK, the position of poet laureate is an honorary office in the gift of the sovereign but in these days, appointed on the advice of the prime minister; because few prime-ministers know much of poetry, they too take advice on the matter; in that, it's similar to the appointment of bishops, most prime ministers knowing as little of religion.  Curiously, although the office is not un-remunerated, the government describes it still as an “honorary appointment”, the advantage of that being summary dismissal is a simpler process should the poet start writing material unpleasing to the party in power.  It may be more correct to call it a kind of sinecure because while the expectation is the appointee will compose verse to mark moments of national significance, such things are not defined and nor are aspects such as frequency or length.  So it’s one of those “gentlemen’s agreements” which, as late as the 1950s was still a feature of the way the establishment ran the UK.  That would have extended also to Dame Carol Ann Duffy (b 1955, poet laureate 2009-2019), thus far the only woman appointed (she had the benefit of ticking several boxes for Gordon Brown (b 1951; prime minister of the UK 2007-2010): Scottish; female; lesbian).  Just for once, Gordon's stars aligned.

Opportunity missed: Dylan Thomas (1914–1953, left) and his wife Caitlin Thomas (née Macnamara; 1913-1994, right) in the bar of Brown’s Hotel, Laugharne, Wales, 1938.

For his laureateship, Dryden's was paid an annual fee of Stg£200, the inclusion in 1630 by the doomed Charles I (1600–1649; King of England, Scotland & Ireland 1625-1649) of an annual “butt of Canary wine”, later converted into the monetary equivalent.  A butt of wine (known also as “a pipe”) had a volume of 105 imperial gallons (126 US gallons, 477 litres) and was part of the English standardized “Cask Measurement System” regulating trade in liquids between brewers, distillers, merchants and shippers.  All graduations of the defined sizes of wooden barrels were fractions of the largest standard cask (the “tun” (210 imperial gallons (252 US gallons, 954 litres)) with a butt a half-tun and a “hogshead” half a butt (52 imperial gallons (63 US gallons, 238 litres)).  However, being English, the system was complicated by a butt of ale or beer being defined as 108 imperial gallons (130 US gallons, 491 litres).  As a unit of measurement the butt was the origin of the slang term “buttload”.  The tradition of the “butt of Canary wine” was revived on the request of Ted Hughes (1930–1998; poet laureate 1984-1998) who received 720 bottles of sherry.  Being Irish, the poet Brendan Behan (1923-1964) wouldn't have been created poet laureate but the government avoided a significant charges against the exchequer by not appointing Dylan Thomas for whom 720 bottles of anything would likely not have proved sufficient.

Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017, Nobel Peace Prize laureate 2009).  The peace prize is awarded by a committee elected by the Norwegian Stortinget (parliament); it summarized the basis of their decision being President Obama's: “...extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples.”  Those skilled in deconstruction concluded the true rationale was “He is not George W. Bush” (George XLIII, b 1946; POTUS 2001-2009)).

The poet laureate's annual payment is now “Stg£5,750 and a barrel of sherry” so it’s good gig considering there are no set hours and only the vaguest KPIs (key performance indicators).  There was a time when a poet laureate was an exalted figure but these days there’s less interest and the best remembered probably still is Ted Hughes (1930–1998; poet laureate 1984-2008) and that less for his oeuvre than calls by feminists to boycott his works because he had Sylvia Plath’s (1932-1963) “blood on his quill”.  The noun laureate came into existence in the 1520s, either as an evolution from the adjective or through a mistaken reading and laureateship has been in use since 1732.  In modern use, laureate is most frequently applied to Nobel prize winners, a use that began in 1947; while many of the Nobel laureates have been outstanding figures in their field, there have been a few about as undeserving as some of the less distinguished British poets laureate.  Of the 21 who have held the office, serious critics seem to rate only Dryden, William Wordsworth (1770–1850; poet laureate 1843-1850) and Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892; poet laureate 1850-1892) as first-rate poets.

The laurel appeared in Hymn to Proserpine (1866), a poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909) exploring atheism, a theme to which he would on occasion return as he developed in verse his increasingly strident opposition to Christianity in general and stifling Victorian morality particularly.  Nominated every year between 1903 and 1909 for the Nobel Prize in Literature, his name was on the list in 1893 presented to Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) as the replacement for Tennyson as Poet Laureate but the queen vetoed him “on moral grounds” although it’s not known if she’d read or merely been told about his works discussing sado-masochism and lesbian longings.  Swinburne was of a figure of the post-Romantic disillusionment and a part of the sceptical tradition that would emerge in the nineteenth century to grow to a critical mass in the twentieth; even if not familiar with his most “disturbing” verse, Hymn to Proserpine, an address to Proserpina (in Rome, the goddess of the Underworld), lamenting that the rise of Christianity had displaced the pagan goddess and her pantheon, would alone have been enough to incur royal disapprobation.

Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean; the world has
   grown grey from Thy breath;
We have drunken of things Lethean, and fed on the
   fullness of death.
Laurel is green for a season, and love is sweet for a day;
But love grows bitter with treason, and laurel outlives
   not May.

The meaning is that both romantic love and artistic fame are fleeting, fragile, and bound to fade, the work a pagan perspective rejecting the idea of eternal life or permanent earthly glory.  In saying “Laurel is green for a season”, the leaves exist in their traditional symbolic role celebrating poetic glory, victory and cultural achievement but as “Love is sweet for a day”, while human affection can briefly be thrillingly intense, notoriously is it brief and transitory.  Just as “love grows bitter with treason” with relationships easily and often turned toxic by a betrayal or shift in faith, the “laurel outlives not May” and like spring flowers, fame dies quickly when the cultural season shifts and fashions change.  Nothing lasts forever and even the highest artistic achievements will one day dissolve into nothingness: Man can write his will across the heavens but those stars will soon dim and fall.  Swinburne found comfort not in an afterlife, but in the total, final darkness granted by Proserpine, the goddess of death.  Charmingly, Christians and pagans alike would both concur with the scriptural “Vanity, vanity, vanity of vanity of vanities, all is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 1:2) although each would draw different conclusions, the former in eternal life, the latter in peaceful oblivion.  As a footnote, Hymn to Proserpine includes cross-rhyme (known also as an interlaced rhyme) a device occurring in long couplets, the device operating on words in the middle of each line (here “season” and “treason”).

Witch

Witch (pronounced wich)

(1) A person, historically either male or female but now especially a woman, who professes or is supposed to practice magic or sorcery; a sorceress (especially popular in mythology and fiction but also associated with certain societies and historical periods and still current in some countries).

(2) In the weird world of the "new age movement", a practitioner of a nature-based religion founded on ancient beliefs, which honors both a male and female divine principle and includes the practice of magic (associated especially with healing).

(3) An informal and derogatory term for an ugly, mean or wicked old woman; a hag.

(4) Used selectively, a fascinating or enchanting woman (usually in the (figurative) sense of "bewitching").

(5) A person who uses a divining rod; dowser (archaic).

(6) In the sense of "witch-hunt", an intensive effort to discover and expose disloyalty, subversion, dishonesty or the like, based usually on slight, doubtful, or irrelevant evidence.

(7) A flatfish, Pleuronectes (or Glyptocephalus) cynoglossus, of North Atlantic coastal waters, having a narrow greyish-brown body marked with tiny black spots.  The family group is Pleuronectidae (plaice, flounders etc)

(8) In geometry, a certain curve of the third order, also known as versiera.

(9) In entomology, the Indomalayan butterfly Araotes lapithis, of the Lycaenidae family.

Pre 900: From the Middle English wicche from the Old English wicce (sorceress, witch (female)), the feminine forms existing in conjunction with wicca (witch, sorcerer, wizard), the masculine deverbative from wiccian (to practice sorcery) from the Proto-Germanic wikkōną.  Related were the West Frisian wikje, wikke (to foretell, warn), the Low German wicken (to soothsay) and the Dutch wikken, wichelen (to dowse, divine).  Root was the primitive Indo-European wik-néh, derivation of weyk- (to consecrate; separate); akin to the Latin victima (sacrificial victim), the Swedish vicka (to move to and fro), the Lithuanian viẽkas (life-force) and the Sanskrit विनक्ति (vinákti) (to set apart, separate out).  Witch, witchcraft, witcher & witchery are nouns; witching is a verb & adjective and witchy is an adjective, the noun plural is witches.

The homophones “witch” & “which” are yet another pair that must make those learning English wonder how a language with so many curious anomalies became something of the planet’s lingua franca.  Which was from the Middle English which, hwic, wilche, hwilch, whilk & hwilc, from the Old English hwelċ (which), from the Proto-Germanic hwilīkaz (literally “like what” and used in the sense of “what kind”), from hwaz.  It was cognate with the Scots whilk, the West Frisian hokker, the Dutch welk, the Low German welk, the German welcher, the Danish hvilken, the Swedish vilken, the Norwegian hvilken and the Icelandic hvílíkur, all of which convey the sense of the English “which”.  “Which” is used (1) as an interrogative (seeking a choice from a limited number or group implied to be a closed set), (2) as a relative pronoun (either adding introducing clauses or referring to a whole statement or (3) as conditional or indefinite (whichever) operator used to mean any one or whichever option from a group.

An illustrative example was Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; Prime Minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) leaving a cocktail party after having been introduced to a number of visiting dignitaries from the Balkans, confessing to his companion he’d be unlikely to recall: “which ‘vitch’ was which”.  In English, the choice between “that” and “which” often baffles but the convention is “that” is used when introducing a restrictive (essential) clause and “which” when the clause is non-restrictive.  To illustrate that (1): “The car that has the red interior is mine” (the clause identifies which car) and (2) “The car, which has a red interior, is mine” (identity of car already certain).  However, “which vs that” is more a convention of style than a hard grammatical “law” and a handy rule of thumb is (1) if “that” can be removed from a sentence without compromising meaning, it should be removed, (2) if a comma exists, use “which” and (3) if there’s no comma, used “that”.  That will please most people most of the time.

An obviously guilty witch haranguing the court, lithograph of a witch trial in Salem, Massachusetts, circa 1692.

The OED (Oxford English Dictionary) does note the generally accepted etymology is not without phonetic or semantic difficulties and suggests some connection with the Old English wigle (divination) and wig & wih (idol), the nouns representing a Proto-Germanic wikkjaz (necromancer) (one who wakes the dead) from the primitive Indo-European weg-yo from weg (to be strong, be lively).  That wicce once had a more specific sense than the later general one of "female magician, sorceress" is suggested by the presence of other words in Old English describing more specific kinds of magical craft.  “Witch doctor” is from circa 1715; from the mid 1830s it was applied to African “healers by means of spells & potions”, soon becoming interchangeable with “medicine man”.  The fear of witches and witchcraft is described as wiccaphobia and neither phobia nor subject has ever been mentioned in the APA’s (American Psychiatric Association) DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) although that’s not unusual, the DSM not listing phobias as distinct diagnostic identities but instead providing diagnostic criteria for categorizing phobias listed under five headings: (1) animal type, (2) natural environment type, (3) blood-injection-injury type, (4) situational type & (5) other types.  Depending on the patient's circumstances, a clinician presumably would place their wiccaphobia in either (4) or (5).

Poster for the movie Warlock (1989).  In Hollywood, warlocks are men and witches are women.

However, although "witchcraft" and "witch" may not appear in the DSM, both terms did once make frequent appearances in the literature of medicine and psychiatry.  Historically, at least some of those accused of practicing witchcraft in the Middle Ages and early modern period are thought to have been experiencing conditions such as severe depression, epilepsy, or psychosis; rather than being condemned as witches, they’d now be diagnosed with a neurological or mental illnesses.  In the modern era, clinicians are trained to detect the difference between true psychotic delusions (a manifestation of irrational phobias) and beliefs a product of cultural or religious conditioning.  Sometimes seriously and sometimes less so, there have been scholars and other critics (including ex-patients) of modern psychiatry who have compared the DSM to the old “witch-hunting” texts, the classic example the Malleus Maleficarum.  Written by German Dominican friar and inquisitor Heinrich Kramer (circa 1430-1505), the widely-read treatise Malleus Maleficarum (Hammer of Witches, 1487), not only described the rituals of witchcraft but was also a manual for the identification of witches, documenting methods by which their guilt could be proven (as a prelude to execution).  Scholars now regard Malleus Maleficarum not as original but a kind of “review of the classics” and a codification of many previous works but the publication long exerted much influence on the witch trials of the early modern period.  Kramer was on sound theological and political ground because early as the tenth century the Church had published Canon Episcopi (Canon Law) in which it was made explicit witchcraft and magic were delusions and practitioners (or even believers) were suffering “possession by the Devil”.

To gain a flavour of the Malleus Maleficarum, consider the representative extract: “What else is woman but a foe to friendship, an inescapable punishment, a necessary evil, a natural temptation, a desirable calamity, a domestic danger, a delectable detriment, an evil of nature, painted in fair colors...The word woman is used to mean the lust of the flesh, as it is said: I have found a woman more bitter than death, and a good woman more subject to carnal lust...Women are naturally more impressionable...Women are intellectually like children...She is more carnal than a man, as is clear from her many carnal abominations...Therefore a wicked woman is by her nature quicker to waver in her faith, and consequently quicker to abjure the faith, which is the root of witchcraft...”  One does suspect copies of the Malleus Maleficarum might sit well-thumbed on the bedside tables of Talibs in Kabul and ayatollahs in Tehran.  They know the old ways are best.

The old ways are best: Malleus Maleficarum.

The comparison between Malleus Maleficarum and the DSM is the claim both are guidebooks used by an elite to label and classify nonconformity or social deviance as “abnormal” and thus to be “treated” (sometimes by incarceration).  Structuralists note one interesting aspect of this is the “imprimatur of veracity” provided by the written word, both Kramer’s text and the DSM gaining their authority from being hefty published works.  While Malleus Maleficarum faded from use, the DSM’s seven decade evolution from DSM-I (1952: 130 pages listing 106 mental disorders) to DSM-5-TR (2022: 1152 pages and 298 disorders) has been one of increasing influence to the point that, in the minds of many, it is definitive.  The “mission creep” of the DSM has attracted comment and while whether there’s now “more madness” or what there now is more readily identified and better treated can be debated, the growth of the profession also accounts for some of the spread, doctors sometimes in demarcation disputes about who gets to treat whom: With each addition to the DSM the psychiatrists get to stake their claim to another market segment and in the twenty-first century, the DSM seems as canonical a text as was Malleus Maleficarum in the sixteenth.

Nylon, 30 January, 2015.

In 2015, Nylon ran the story Lindsay Lohan had taken up witchcraft and wished to be consecrated by a coven as a white witch.  Nylon did caution the source of the story was the National Enquirer, a publication sometimes referred to as a NRS (normally reliable source) with some irony; a representative for Ms Lohan released a statement denying she practiced witchcraft.  Published continuously since 1926, since the early 2000s the National Enquirer has been a good source of Lohanic content, coverage extending to her weight (suggestions of anorexia during “thin phase”), driving history (patchy), being stalked by the Freemasons (verified), feuds (frequent), legal issues (since resolved), family squabbles (legion), hair care (highly recommended), shoe & handbag collections (much envied) and, of course, aspiration to be admitted to a coven of witches (dubious).  

Women being burned at the stake (circa 1580), engraving by Dutch illustrator Jan Luyken (1649–1712).  Widely practiced in parts of Europe, in England, burnings at the stake tended to be restricted to those convicted of heresy, convicted witches usually hanged (if they survived the various "trials by ordeal" used to establish guilt).

The glossary of the Laws of Ælfred (circa 890) translates the Latin necromantia (demonum invocatio) as galdre or wiccecræft and in the Anglo-Saxon poem Men's Crafts, wiccræft appears to mean "skill with horses" so the OED is right to note the contested history but, in the history of the British Isles, the mention in the Laws of Ælfred of witchcraft being exclusively female activity is unique although that sense clearly endured and by the early 1600s, the feminine form was so dominant that the forms "men-witches" or "he-witches" came into use.  Warlock was never a universally accepted masculine form of witch despite the notion in modern popular culture and it’s from wicca that English ultimately gained both wizard and wicked.  Even in the sixteenth century, the implications were blurred, Reginald Scot in his The Discoverie of Witchcraft (1584) asserting it was synonymous in the English tongue to say either “she is a witch” or “she is a wise woman”.  In the popular imagination there's still a widespread perception witches were burned at the stake and while that was the case in many places (along with other methods of dispatch), in the English-speaking world, because witchcraft was a felony in both England and the American colonies, witches were hanged and not burned.  Witches’ bodies were burned in Scotland, although, just to be sure, they were first strangled to death.  The confusion may have arisen because there were cases of witches being burned at the stake but that was because they'd been convicted also of heresy.

Crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) has never denied practicing witchcraft (digitally altered image).

The extended sense of “young woman or girl of bewitching aspect or manners” was in use by at least 1740 and although that sense has been used both admiringly (of “feminine charms) and as a warning (of the power of a seductress over men) it seems now usually positive and of “ways & means” rather than merely the Paris Hiltonesque “hot”.  It’s certainly more encouraging than the use in the Old Testament in which appears מְכַשֵּׁפָה (mekhashshepheh, in the Hebrew the feminine term for an “enchantress or sorceress”.  The word was from the root כשף (kashaph) and used to refer to those who whispered mystic formulas or cast spells, antics that attracted one of the more famous (and consequential) biblical injunctions: “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” (Exodus 22:18; King James Version of the Bible (KJV, 1611)).  A similar condemnation also appears in Deuteronomy 18:10-12:

10 There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch.

11 Or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer.

12 For all that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord: and because of these abominations the Lord thy God doth drive them out from before thee.

The verse “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live” echoed through time, the Mosaic legal decree held to command the execution of those practicing sorcery or illicit magic.  In the archaic English of the KJV, “suffer” means “allow or permit”, thus the understanding “Do not allow a sorceress to live”.  However, scripture is open to interpretation and, for thousands of years, priests, theologians (amateur & professional), lawyers and charlatans (there’s some overlap between those categories) have done exactly that and adding to the tangle is the history of variations in translation and meaning-shifts in words.  In the ancient Septuagint (a translation in Ancient Greek), the Hebrew word was translated as pharmakos (a brewer of lethal potions, drugs, or poisons) leading some scholars argue the verse targeted “dark herbalists” (ie those who literally mixed poisons) while others held this was metaphorical and still explicitly proscribed (on pain of death) supernatural sorcery.  The latter (harsher) view is more in accord with the spirit of Deuteronomy in which it was made clear all must follow the teachings in the tradition of the prophet Moses, meaning all divination and magical techniques of enquire must be eliminated on the grounds such things were “spiritual treason”.  For the ancient Israelites, spells and magical incantations were attempts to bypass God's authority by manipulating spiritual forces or a summoning of pagan deities, sorcery thus a form of idolatry that threatened the purity of the community.  Of course the commentaries have always emphasised execution of transgressors must be judicial with the accused granted due process; neither in Exodus or Deuteronomy is licence granted for vigilantism or mob justice.

The historical legacy of Exodus 22:18 was profound and lingered long in Western culture.  It was James I (1566–1625;King of England 1603-1625) who commissioned the translation still influential as the KJV and he was a religious zealot both fearful of and somewhat obsessed with the dangers in witchcraft; translating mekhashepha specifically as “witch” reinforced the secular laws of his time and on both sides of the Atlantic, European inquisitors and American Puritans alike, cited Exodus 22:18 as the primary biblical justification to hunt, torture, and execute thousands (mostly women) accused of witchcraft.  Delivered mostly by the European colonialists, scripture (often selectively quoted) spread to other continents and to this day, Akan Christians in Ghana justify praying for the death and destruction of witches and wizards of the basis of “not suffering witches to live”.  In some places where the scriptural condemnation of witches became better embedded in culture than the companion notion of "due process before punishment", mobs not infrequently assemble and kill those accused of witchcraft, parts of Africa and PNG (Papua New Guinea) especially afflicted.  In some cases the killings are opportunistic and based on other motives including "blood feuds" and economics, inconvenient wives sometimes murdered so a family can gain title to her land.      

Peter Dutton, seemingly in one of his more cheerful moods, carrying volume one (of three) of his enemies list (volume two including a number of MFWs).

In Australia, Peter Dutton (b 1970; leader of the opposition and leader of the Australian Liberal Party 2022-2025) had something of an unfortunate history with text messages (SMS, short message service) including sending one calling a journalist a “mad fucking witch”.  Unfortunately, he sent the "MFW text" to the target of his thoughts but, fortunately, the witch worked for Liberal Party supervisor Rupert Murdoch (b 1931) and thus had to cop it sweet which, with some aplomb, the witch did, even complimenting Mr Dutton for having been a minister who had made "a great contribution to government" (one way of putting things).  Mr Dutton's SMS was especially interesting because there's an extensively documented library of the links between Freemasonry and witchcraft and, despite many opportunities, Mr Dutton has never denied being a Freemason.  Whether it can be said Mr Dutton’s truly made "a great contribution to government" (examples don't readily come to mind), in coining “mad fucking witch” he certainly made a notable contribution to the political lexicon and, unlike most of what he said and did over his well-remunerated decades in public life, the phrase proved enduring, albeit as an “unintended consequence”.

In Australia, MFW (Mad Fucking Witches) is a political pressure group targeting media figures usually described as “right wing” and although the label can be misleading, those attracting the attention of the MFW generally are port of the “populist vibe”, a movement not sympathetic to the “progressive” issues though the preserve of the (again nominal) “left wing”.  The MFW approach comes from the playbook of BDS (boycott, divestment & sanctions) community and their preferred tactic since 2016 has been the “collective boycott”, a technique in which companies are pressured not to advertise on programmes or outlets that have attracted their disapproval.  So it’s an attempt at a kind of censorship but the MFW’s stated position is those using the media to advocate, support or at least “dog whistle” world views such as “sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, and all forms of hate and bigotry” should not tolerated and have no right to claim the protection of the liberal concept of “free speech”.  Potential MFW supporters should note the coven's position is both men and women can be consecrated as witches and it'll be interesting to see if a kind of “anti-MFW” emerges from the  “manosphere” (a MFW enemy) as the “Mad Fucking Warlocks”.  On X (previously known as Twitter), #witches-vs-warlocks would be a battle worth following.   

MFW merchandise.  Rupert Murdoch too has feelings and must find the T-shirts hurtful.  Those concerned should send him an appropriate emoji.  

Presumably the MFW wouldn’t claim the quote attributed to French philosopher Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet; 1694–1778): “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it” is “wrong” but, on the basis “one has to draw the line somewhere” (a dictum with a long history in “free speech” matters), would maintain it is “wrong” for corporations financially to support individuals or media outlets disseminating “hate speech”.  Actually, the quote was a paraphrase of Voltaire’s views on the principle of freedom of speech and was coined by Evelyn Beatrice Hall (1868–1956, who used the pseudonym Stephen “S.G.” Tallentyre), appearing in her book The Friends of Voltaire (1906); whether that history is enough for the coven to deny Ms Hall the status of “honorary Mad Fucking Witch” isn’t something discussed on their website (on which is merchandise available, including the “Fuck Murdoch” T-shirts made famous by #MeToo activist Grace Tame (b 1994 and at least a MFW fellow-traveller)).

The MFW will not be unaware of analysis suggesting at least some of the “hate spewing” commentators choose their content not out of political conviction but merely because it has proved the most lucrative and happily they’d shift to broadcasting something diametrically different if that path proved to be the “money trail”.  The outlets are in the business of producing a product (their audience) to sell (to advertisers) and if a bigger audience could be produced by running recordings of a philosopher and archbishop discussing the existence of God than what's generated by conspiracy theories and rants about this & that (immigrants, trans-people etc), that's what would be run.  However, the MFW is a coven of structural functionalists for whom motivation is irrelevant and what matters is content: “Every single advertiser who pays advertising dollars to a company which spreads dangerous anti-science rhetoric, hate speech, fake news and lies is complicit in the spread of that information … their responsibility is to ensure their money only goes to media organisations with morals and a social conscience.”  Pleasingly for pattern theorists (harder than it sounds), both Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) and the MFW seek to eradicate “fake news” although while some of their methods may be similar, the definitions and targets differ.  The MFW has pledged also to “rid the world of authoritarianism”, possibly with Mr Trump in the coven’s collective thoughts.

The MFW doesn't issue a “call to arms”; the coven calls witches: “To your brooms”.

Of course companies have for a long time been using either the withdrawal of advertising or the threat to do so as a weapon (sometimes deployed with subtlety, sometimes not) to influence “coverage of products” and governments have not been above directing their advertising to publications thought “sympathetic”.  There are terms for those methods but the MFW is an interesting case-study of the way blogs, social media and such have created a kind of “equivalency” between the new “micro-operations” and media outlets with storied histories in some cases dating back centuries.  What makes the MFW campaign(s) structurally different is they’re often focused on the “old media” of radio and terrestrial television, technologies possible only because they are licenced (by governments) exclusively to use a publicly-owned resource (the airwaves) and conditions are imposed on those so licenced, including the general concept of “responsible” use; many individuals and some institutions have views on the parameters of “responsible” (some even codifying things) and the MFW’s strident position is just one of many.  One “codified” document in Australia is commercial radio’s 31-page Code of Practice, a work highly-detailed, frequently ignored and often interpreted on the basis of: “Can we get away with it?”  The MFW have noted this and claim they exist only because the outlets refuse to “regulate themselves” and “regulators failing to discharge their statutory duties”.  Although there is something of the now familiar “agree with us or we’ll cancel you” approach about the MFW, many wish them success, not because they find their targets a political threat but because they’re such ghastly vulgarians. 

Witches and ditches

Witch of the Ditch on broomstick.

Early Reader’s paperback edition of the children's book The Witch of the Ditch by by Steven Butler, illustrated by Nigel Baines.  The early reader series uses a hybrid format in being “stepping stones” designed for children transitioning from picture books to text, the method being associative (illustrations the young reader can identify orally, presented alongside the relevant written word(s)). Appropriately deconstructed, the book is a tale of political conflict, triggered when one witch (Hag of the Crag) moves in next door to another (Witch of the Ditch).  As is notorious, there is in every town room only for one witch so things are not going to go well.  Politicians may be tempted to mine The Witch of the Ditch in the quest for new 3WSs (three word slogans) because that's how political discourse is now done and they’ll find encouraging the publisher’s blurb noting the title is for a “Reading age: 5-7 years”, about the level of comprehension they appear to think most voters have attained.

Ditch Witch at work.

Described by the manufacturer as “The fastest way to drill”, CEA’s Ditch Witch JT21 replaces the previous JT20, the design improvements said to have been “engineered with direct input from contractors and drillers in the field.”  Drills of all types (from the smallest able to put holes in nano-sized objects to the largest used to carve through solid granite when excavating tunnels) are arranged in classes and CEA claim the JT21 “sets a new benchmark for performance, speed, and control in compact drilling”, its “35% faster carriage speed” able to operate at a “blazing 215 feet (66 metres) per minute”, making it “the fastest drill in its class”.  One measure likely novel to those familiar with HP (horsepower) in other contexts is the concept of DHP (downhole horsepower), a measure of the specific efficiency delivered at the critical point (the drill bit); in that it’s analogous with RWHP (rear-wheel horsepower), the traditional metric used by dynamometers quantifying power and a measure more indicative of performance potential than GHP (gross horsepower, what a engine generates in its raw configuration) or NHP (net horsepower, measured with an engine’s accessories attached).  Certainly the Ditch Witch’s stated ratings (21,000 lbs of pullback, 20,000 lbs of thrust, and 2,250 ft-lbs of torque) sound impressive.  The JT21 is also a most modern machine, featuring VAM (Virtually Assisted Make-up, a software-driven pipe handling apparatus that renders redundant floats or sensors).  Pleasingly for those brought up on video games, the JT21 is controlled by a multimode joystick and LCD (liquid crystal display) interface.

Digging a better trench: Winston Churchill inspecting the progress of project White Rabbit No, 6, Clumber Park, Nottinghamshire, England, November 1941.

In “Ditch Witch” CEA came up with a catchy name, one that would have appealed to word-nerd Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955), had there not been a need for secrecy.  The World War II (1939-1945) era White Rabbit No. 6 was an “trench digging” engineering project co-ordinated by the British Admiralty although, as a security measure, the official code-name was changed to “Cultivator No. 6” to make it sound less mysterious and more like just another a piece of agricultural equipment.  It was a military trench-digging machine, an example of the adage “generals are always preparing to fight the last war” and although designed exclusively for army use on (and at least partially under) land, it came under the auspices of the RN (Royal Navy) because it was one of the many “good ideas” from the brain of Churchill who, between the outbreak of war in 1939 and his assumption of the premiership some months later, served as First Lord of the Admiralty (the RN’s political head).  Trenches and artillery had been the two dominant features of World War I (1914-1918) and Churchill had spent some months (1915-1916) in one of the former under fire from the latter while commanding a battalion; before the implications of mechanization and the German’s Blitzkrieg (lightning war) tactics were apparent, he assumed the new war in France would unfold something like the old, thus the interest in something which would “revolutionize trench warfare”.

Clipart of sexy Halloween witches (PNG (portable network graphics) format, transparent, 300 DPI (dots-per-inch)) can be downloaded.

Trench warfare however wasn’t repeated so White Rabbit No.6 was soon realized to be already obsolete so the project was abandoned and although the most fully developed of the prototypes did perform according to the design parameters, whether it would have been effective remains doubtful; remarkably, work on these things wasn’t wholly abandoned until 1942.  The “White Rabbit” project codes came from Churchill’s sense of humor, his ideas flowing, as he said: “like rabbits I pull from my hat” and he supported many, some of which were of great military value while others, like the “floating runways” (artificial icebergs made with a mixture of shards of timber & frozen water), were quixotic.  The gestation of the White Rabbit was also an echo of World War I when, in an earlier incarnation as First Lord, Churchill had instructed the Admiralty to begin development of the first “tank”.  The word “tank” was adopted to create the impression the project was about “water tanks” and while it may seem strange to put admirals in charge of what was so obviously a “land weapon”, it was the navy that possessed the expertise in fabricating similar devices (the gun turrets used on warships) and the boat-sized engines that would be used to propel them.

Bronwyn Bishop (b 1942, left), Sophie Mirabella (b 1968) and Tony Abbott (right) at the infamous “Ditch the Witch” protest, 2011.

Tony Abbott (b 1957; Prime Minister of Australia 2013-2015) rarely saw a 3WS he didn’t like and, in 2011, apparently had no compunction in being photographed in front of a placard with the words “Ditch the Witch”, the occasion a “No Carbon Tax” protest, called after Julia Gillard (b 1961; Prime Minister of Australia 2010-2013) had announced such a tax would be imposed, despite having earlier promised there’d be no such tax.  Clearly it must have been a "non-core promise", another Australian contribution to political jargon.  Also displaying the depth of the Australian linguistic imagination (if not grasp of the rules of punctuation) was one reading “Juliar….Bob Browns [sic] Bitch”.  The construct of Juliar was Ju(lia) + liar (alluding to the broken promise) and “Bitch” a reference to the allegation her government was too inclined to be influenced by the Green Party, then led by Dr Bob Brown (b 1944; senator for Tasmania (Australian Greens) 1996-2012, Green party leader 2005-2015).  “Bitch” was also a slur, a snide comment on Dr Brown’s homosexuality.

Tony Abbott agitprop.

Mr Abbott's combination of relentless negativity and repetition of 3WSs (three word slogans) contributed to his resounding victory in the 2013 general election although, in office, the results were mixed and it ended badly.  Recently resurrected as the Liberal Party's federal president (the institution's third “Lazerus with a triple bypass” after Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; Prime Minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) and John Howard (b 1939; Prime Minister of Australia 1996-2007)), Mr Abbott unquestionably was one of history's most effective leaders of the opposition but as Roy Jenkins (1920–2003) remarked of Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895):  “He was essentially a opposition politician and behaved as such even when in government”.  With his long experience in the cabinets of two of the UK's more faction-ridden post-war Labour governments, of such matters, Jenkins was a fair judge.  It was Lord Randolph who made famous the dictum “The duty of an opposition is to oppose” but he proved was sometime neglectful in adhering to the obvious corollary defining the role of a government.  When in opposition, Mr Abbott followed the dictum with an unmatched muscular efficiency (during all those years he trained to be ordained a priest, the Jesuit monsignors drummed into him the Catholic Church's world view (“thou shalt not”)) and even after he elected not to follow the calling, the lesson never departed his soul.  Mr Abbott as federal president of the party that axed him from the leadership before he'd completed a single term will be watched with interest by many, dread by some and quiet terror by those clinging to marginal seals (the latter now a big number).  In the pre-penicillin age, Lord Randolph died a dreadful death and whether Mr Abbott proves the Liberal Party's political penicillin will be determined by the patient's fate.         

“Witch Doctor” was  for several successful seasons campaigned in drag racing by Dr Keith Garner (b 1935), a Cherokee, Iowa-based physician.

A 1970 Ford Torino Cobra, it was ordered from the factory explicitly configured to optimize performance over quarter-mile (402 metres) runs: 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Super Cobra Jet V8 (J-code), C6 automatic transmission & 3.91 Drag Pack 9 inch rear end (V code).  The styling cues were “borrowed” by Ford Australia for the two-door hardtop version of the Falcon (XA, XB & XC, 1972-1979), the lines proving aerodynamically efficient on even the fastest circuits.  Unfortunately, the second generation Torino (1970-1971), while untroubled on drag strips where speeds didn’t exceed 125 mph (200 km/h), on the big NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) ovals where 200 mph (320 km/h) routinely was approached, the shape induced unexpectedly high drag, despite looking sleeker than its slab-sided predecessor (1968-1969); where possible, racing teams opted to run the old body.

In this, Ford was a victim of circumstances.  The plan had been to produce a run of 1970 Torinos with aerodynamics optimized for the ovals (as had been done with the previous generation (the 1969 Torino Talladega and corporate stablemate Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II)) and three prototypes were built but the NASCAR regulators, not best-pleased their series for "showroom stock cars" (although it had been more than a decade since teams had used cars close to that) was being "gamed" by manufacturers, changed the rules, rendering the so called "aero cars" uncompetitive by limiting them to a 305 cubic inch (5.0 litre) engine displacement while allowing the others to use the full 430 (7.0).  Visually, although highly effective, the modifications appearing on the Talladega & Cyclone Spoiler II were quite modest (as were those applied in 1969 on the Dodge Charger 500 that triggered the "aero wars") and had the manufacturers continued to exercise restraint and limit the changes to some subtle "tweaks", NASCAR might have allowed the fun to continue.  However, after the 1969 Dodge Charger Daytona and 1970 Plymouth Road Runner Superbird appeared with extravagant appendages front and rear (the elevated rear wings so high literally they could be used to hang washing out to dry), the rule-makers cracked down, ending the first round of the "aero wars".  Interest in aerodynamics would within a few years return but this time for everything on the production line as manufactures pursued every course to reduce fuel consumption. 

Preaching to the converted: One-time seminarian Mr Abbott gets the message across.

Standing with Mr Abbott, Liberal Party luminaries Bronwyn Bishop and Sophie Mirabella presumably regarded the words “witch” & “bitch” as “political” rather than “sexist”.  That view wasn’t shared by Ms Gillard who later remarked: “I wasn't shocked that some people had those sentiments…” but was, “…shocked that it was so visibly called forth into the public debate and that it didn't get the sort of odium from mainstream commentators that it should have.”  The signage also rated a mention in her strident “misogyny speech”, delivered in the parliament on 9 October 2012 as a reaction then opposition leader Mr Abbott accusing her of sexism.  Actually, she “had a bit of previous” with sexism (notably the “mincing poodle” affair) but the speech was a good performance and around the planet it went viral.  At the time of the “Ditch the Witch” rally, Ms Gillard of course received the expected support from her ALP (Australian Labor Party) party colleagues although Ms Bishop and Ms Mirabella seem to have been unmoved.  One at the time vocal in her condemnation of the signage was Penny Wong (b 1968), then serving in the Gillard cabinet and, as a woman, she would be expected to be sensitive to hints of misogyny.  Ms Gillard of course had only that to resort to when weaponizing “an identity” whereas Wong could play (1) “the woman card”, (2) the “race card” (being of part-Asian extraction) or “the gay card” (being a lesbian).  Still her support must have been appreciated as gesture of feminist solidarity.  Unfortunately, Ms Gillard’s problems got worse and the rest of the country noticed; so did her party colleagues and, in a leadership spill in June 2013, she lost the leadership, Ms Wong among those voting for the alternative.  Feminist solidarity goes only so far when there’s the threat of a big pay cut and the loss of perks.

Food safety labels: Yakult explains.

Two of the terms most often used in food safety labelling are “Best before” & “Use by”.  A “Best before” (sometimes as “Best by”) date is an indication the item should be consumed before this date because beyond that point its qualities (flavour, textures, freshness etc) will be less than optimal.  In most cases, it should still be “safe” to consume the item (especially if from the “dry goods” class such as pasta) although if too many days have elapsed it’s recommended carefully to inspect (visually or by olfaction (ie the “sniff test”)) prior to use.  A “Use by” date is prescriptive rather than advisory and food should not be consumed after this date.  Even if within the date, items requiring refrigeration or other storage protocols should also be subject to the informal tests if the end-date is close or spoilage is suspected.  Once the date has passed, the item should be disposed of.

Mr Abbott in T-shirt (digitally altered image).

Like comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953), Mt Abbott spent some years in a seminary training for the priesthood, though both left the calling, comrade Stalin because he found another god and Mr Abbott because he judged himself unsuitable for the priestly job-description, concluding he’d never achieve the required KPIs (Key Performance Indicator); after entering parliament, it took not long for his colleagues (more so than his opponents) to dub him with the sobriquet “the mad monk”).  In the general election on 7 September, 2013 Mr Abbott achieved an impressive victory, gaining a majority in the House of Representative of 30 seats.  It would have be greater still had the ALP (Australian Labor Party) not some three months earlier knifed party leader (and prime minister) Julia Gillard, replacing her with Dr Kevin Rudd (b 1957, prime minister of Australia 2007-2010 and June-September 2013).  There was a nice political symmetry to that because in 2010 it had been her who knifed him; they’re good haters in the ALP and although selective, their memories can be acute.  Had she remained as prime minister, all the indications are Mr Abbott’s margin of victory would have been greater still; while the country had little appetite for a Rudd 2.0 administration, collective hatred for Gillard 1.0 had become visceral.  So, while the defenestration didn’t save the ALP from a crushing defeat, it could have been worse and politics is the art of the possible.  Unfortunately, what in office should have been Abbott Government 1.0 turned out to be Abbott Opposition 1.1 and some two-thirds into what (on paper) should have been the first of at least two terms, his colleagues concluded his “Best before” date was 7 September, 2013 and his “Use by” date expired on 15 September, 2015.

In both parties, taking the axe to the leader (sort of) fixed some things but in the last two decades the quality of the ALP’s leaders has been “patchy” and where there have been periods of success, that’s an indication more of the parlous quality of the opposition than an endorsement of their dynamic qualities or intellectual punch.  For the Liberals, it’s been at least as bad.  Other than the briefly hopeful intervals between 2008-2009 & 2015-2018 when Malcolm Turnbull (b 1954; prime minister of Australia 2015-2018) was (sort of) in charge, the party has been led by right-wing fanatics, religious weirdos and soft-drink salesmen (there’s a bit of overlap because some enjoyed a dual function).

Briefly in 2026, one of the few pleasures to be see when waiting to catching one's bus in Melbourne.

Genuinely a piece of Australian political history, the “Ditch the Witch” 3WS in 2026 made an unexpected return the streets of Melbourne, appearing on the sides of trucks trundling through the suburbs.  The target this time was Jacinta Allan (b 1973; premier of Victoria since 2023), the lucky recipient of the poisoned chalice of the state’s premiership, handed to her after the retirement of the long-serving Daniel Andrews (b 1972), premier of Victoria 2014-2023.  Several political junkies have been compiling reports with calculations attempting to work out just how much public money has been squandered / stolen / misappropriated / wasted (the terms vary with the author) during the life of the Andrews/Allan government.  While not all the various “incidents” suggest dishonesty (some being mere incompetence), the alleged losses variously are in the thousands, millions or billions.  Ms Allan has made little attempt to address substantive matters (such as the rising state debt) but was most vociferous in her objection to the revival of the “Ditch the Witch” 3WS with her scowling visage appended; within 48 hours the offending images had been banished from the streets although whether that was achieved with threats, persuasion or the premier casting a spell isn’t certain.  In an indication her government had a focus on “high priority issues”, it was announced Aus$134,000 (US$95,000) had been allocated to erect a bronze statue of Mr Andrews.

Despite the impression created by popular culture (especially film & television), the “witch = female, warlock = male” thing is quite modern and thus historically misleading; Ms Gillard and Ms Allan are clearly very modern, thus their equating “witch” with “woman” and its use as a slur as sexism.  For most of the history of the English language, a “witch” could be male or female although the record does suggest women were more often accused of witchcraft, while “warlock” often was not applied to male witches.  In the Old English (certainly before circa 1000), the most common forms were wicca (male practitioner of witchcraft) and wicce (female practitioner) both from the same Germanic root; by the late Middle English (and after the Norman Conquest (1066), gradually the forms merged in pronunciation, the spelling shifting to reflect this, “witch” coming to denote either sex.  That’s why there came to be no need for a separate masculine noun.

Macbeth and the three witches (1760), oil on canvas by Francesco Zuccarelli (1702-1788).  Completed during the artist's “first English period” (1752-1762), historians believe this to be the first European painting depicting theatrical characters in a landscape and in From Rococo to Revolution: Major Trends in Eighteenth-Century Painting (1966), English art historian Sir Michael Levey (1927–2008; director of the National Gallery 1973-1986) notes the work as a fine example of “the beginnings of the Neo-Gothic under the influence of the theory of the sublime.”  When writing The Tragedy of Macbeth (Macbeth, circa 1606) William Shakespeare (1564–1616) had no doubts witches were women.

In the Laws of Ælfred, witchcraft explicitly was singled out as a woman's craft, the practitioners of which were not welcome to live among the Western Saxons but that can’t have been persuasive and it’s clear from later legal and theological writings (fields in which there was long cross-fertilization) that men were a capable as women of practicing witchcraft (the English Witchcraft Act (1604) refers only to “any person”).  Those accused (and sometimes executed) overwhelmingly were women and the numbers in Europe were striking (albeit with wide regional variations), the margin over decades sometimes as skewed as 90-10%.  Of course these are raw numbers from the surviving historic record so while there’s (probably not unreasonably) now the perception women disproportionately were targeted for prosecution, it’s not impossible there simply were more women than men practicing witchcraft.  Popular culture is just as divergent from history in the evolution of “warlock”.  Warlock was from the Old English wǣrloga (oath-breaker; traitor; deceiver) and was related to the notion of “belie one's pledge” rather than magic spells but because of the Biblical association of “deceiver” with Satan, in certain medieval religious texts, wǣrloga was used to mean “the Devil”.

Witches and Witchcraft in Victorian Britain by Emma Woodhouse is scheduled for publication in April 2027.  In Jane Austen's (1775-1817) novel Emma (1815), Emma Woodhouse was the titular protagonist of almost 21, described by the author as “a heroine whom no-one but myself will much like.”

The origin of “warlock” being equated with “man practising witchcraft” seems to be in early sixteenth century Scots English but even there it was never the standard form with the church and court records of the time listing men so accused as “witches”, as was the case in England and Wales.  Charmingly, literary historians trace the emergence of “warlock” meaning “a male witch” to the rise of Gothic novel, a form which enjoyed a spike in popularity between the 1760s and 1820s; witches were mentioned in Gothic novel and Warlocks were not but from those beginnings came the “ghost” & “horror” genres and historians have concluded the Victorian writers, mining the occult, folklore, medievalism, picked-up “warlock” for no better reason than it sounded archaic and had the “picturesque” quality novelists like.  From this improbable beginning, “warlock” became vested with an almost wholly bogus “history” readers allowing themselves to be convinced stretched back a thousand years or more.  Victorian novels were however a niche and what’s thought most to have reinforced the popular perception was twentieth century cinema, an industry which cemented the witch/warlock dichotomy, adhered to in fantasy fiction, role-playing games, comics and popular culture of all forms.