Grand

Grand (pronounced grand)

(1) Impressive in size, appearance, or general effect.

(2) Stately, majestic, or dignified.

(3) Highly ambitious or idealistic.

(4) Magnificent or splendid.

(5) Noble or revered.

(6) Highest, or very high, in rank or official dignity.

(7) Main or principal; chief; the most superior.

(8) Of great importance, distinction, or pretension.

(9) Complete or comprehensive (usually as the “grand total”).

(10) Pretending to grandeur, as a result of minor success, good fortune, etc; conceited & haughty (often with a modifier such as “rather grand”, awfully grand” or “insufferably grand”).

(11) First-rate; very good; splendid.

(12) In musical composition, written on a large scale or for a large ensemble (grand fugue, grand opera etc) and technically meaning originally “containing all the parts proper to a given form of composition”.

(13) In music, the slang for the concert grand piano (sometimes as “concert grand”).

(14) In informal use, an amount equal to a thousand pounds or dollars.

(15) In genealogy, a combining (prefix) form used to denote “one generation more remote” (grandfather, grand uncle etc).

1350–1400: From the Middle English graund, grond, grand, graunt & grant, from the Anglo-Norman graunt, from the Old French grant & grand (large, tall; grown-up; great, powerful, important; strict, severe; extensive; numerous), from the Latin grandis (big, great; full, abundant; full-grown (and figuratively “strong, powerful, weighty, severe”, of unknown origin.  Words conveying a similar sense (depending on context includes ambitious, awe-inspiring, dignified, glorious, grandiose, imposing, large, lofty, luxurious, magnificent, marvelous, monumental, noble, princely, regal, royal, exalted, palatial; brilliant, superb opulent, palatial, splendid, stately, sumptuous, main, large, big & august.  Grand is a noun & adjective, grander & grandest are adjectives, grandness is a noun and grandly is an adverb; the noun plural is grands.

In Vulgar Latin it supplanted magnus (although the phrase magnum opus (one’s great work) endured) and continued in the Romanic languages.  The connotations of "noble, sublime, lofty, dignified etc” existed in Latin and later were picked up in English where it gained also the special sense of “imposing” (which tended often to imply “big”.  The meaning “principal, chief, most important” (especially in the hierarchy of titles) dates from the 1560s while the idea of “something of very high or noble quality” is from the early eighteenth century.  As a general term of admiration (in the sense of “magnificent or splendid” it’s documented since 1816 but as a modifier to imply perhaps that but definitely size, it had been in use for centuries: The Grand Jury was an invention of the late fifteenth century, the grand tour was understood as “an expedition around the important places in continental Europe undertaken as part of the education of aristocratic young Englishmen) as early as the 1660s and the grand piano was named in 1797.  In technical use it was adapted for use in medicine as the grand mal (convulsive epilepsy with loss of consciousness), borrowed from the French grand mal (literally “great sickness”) as a point of clinical distinction from the petit mal (literally “small sickness”) (an epileptic event where consciousness was not lost).  The meaning "a thousand dollars" dates from 1915 and was originally US underworld slang, that sum then a lot of money (the cheapest Ford Model T then listed for US$350).

The “Twenty Grand”: 1933 Duesenberg SJ Arlington Torpedo Sedan by Rollston.

Celebrating "A century of Progress" and held between 27 May, 1933-31 October, 1934 in Chicago, Illinois, the Chicago World's Fair was memorable for the stunning array of art deco architecture and being the first US-staged international fair to book a profit.  Indeed, with close to 40 million paying visitors, the event had proved so popular the scheduled closing date of 12 November, 1933 was extended by almost a year.  When the fair opened its gates, the nation still was in the depths of the Great Depression and it was less than three months since Franklin Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, POTUS 1933-1945) in his first Inaugural Address on 4 March 1933 had delivered the words “…the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” so, in the circumstances, after three troubled years, the success was a remarkable achievement.  Still, it was far from an ideal time to display luxury goods but despite it all, four of the nation’s most exalted automobile manufacturers showed the finest they could achieve.

The “Twenty Grand”: 1933 Duesenberg SJ Arlington Torpedo Sedan by Rollston. 

Reflecting the interest in what the industry then called “streamlining”, Cadillac showcased their Aerodynamic Coupe, a fine housing for the company’s already famous 452 cubic inch (7.4 litre) V16.  Visually, Packard’s Sport Sedan didn’t have the Cadillac’s radical lines but the coachwork by Dietrich was elegant with some styling elements which others would emulate over the remainder of the decade.  Powered by Packard’s second-generation V12, the press dubbed it “The Car of the Dome” an allusion to the exposition’s Travel and Transportation Building where it sat.  Most startling among the four was Pierce-Arrow’s Silver Arrow, the look of which often is described as “avant-garde” but in many aspects it anticipated the early days of mid-century modernism and was probably an influence on the remarkable Tatras from Czechoslovakia although, with a front-mounted V12, under the striking bodywork, it was in many ways a conventional design.  By far the most familiar in appearance was the Duesenberg Arlington Torpedo Sedan with one-off coachwork by Rollston.  While it lacked the rakish appeal of some of the Duesenberg roadsters or phaetons, of its type it was a fine expression and under the long hood of course sat the supercharged 420 cubic inch (6.9 litre) straight-8; with a 32 valve, DOHC (double overhead camshafts) cylinder head, it was rated at 320 HP and was the industry’s most powerful engine.  Although not officially revealed, rumors circulated the price tag was US$20,000 (equivalent to some US$500,000 in 2026), leading the press to nickname it the “Twenty Grand.”

The use of the prefix grand- in genealogical compounds is a special case.  The original meaning was “a generation older than” and the earliest known reference is from the early thirteenth century in the Anglo-French graund dame (grandmother) & (later) grandsire (grandfather), etymologists considering the latter possibly modeled on the avunculus magnus (great uncle).  The English grandmother & grandfather formally entered the language in the fifteenth century and the extension of the concept from “a generation older than” to “a generation younger than” was adopted in the Elizabethan era (1558-1603) thus grandson, granddaughter etc.  Grand as a modifier clearly had appeal because in the US, the “Big Canyon” was in 1869 re-named the Grand Canyon.  In the modern era grand has been appended whenever there’s a need economically to convey the idea of a “bigger or more significant” version of something thus such constructions as grand prix, grand slam, grand larceny, grand theft auto, grand unification theory, grand master (a favorite both of chess players and the Freemasons) etc.  While “grand” can be a “loaded word” in that it can be deployed to convey something positive or negative some related forms can be even more variable and often are prone to misuse.  These include “grandeur” ((1) the state of being grand or splendid; magnificence; (2) the state of being noble; (3) largeness; tallness; loftiness (archaic), “grandiose” ((1) Large and impressive, in size, scope or extent; (2) pompous or pretentious; (3) magnificent or spectacular and “grandiloquent” (of an individual, their writing or speech): given to using language in a showy way by using may obscure or long words.

The Grand Jury

Donald Trump in Manhattan Criminal Court, April 2022.

The Manhattan grand jury that indicted Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) on 34 felony counts of "falsification of business records in the first degree" was an example of an institution with origins in twelfth century England although it didn’t generally become known as the “grand jury” until the mid-1400s.  At least some of the charges against Mr Trump related to the accounting associated with “hush-money” payment made in some way to Stormy Daniels (b 1979; the stage name of Stephanie Gregory although Mr Trump prefers “horseface” which seems both ungracious and unfair) and reports at the time offered the prospect of more legal-political drama, the suggestion he'd likely have to face more grand juries hearing more serious matters.  All such possibilities were however put on hold when he again became POTUS. 

A grand jury is a group of citizens (usually between 16-23) who review evidence presented by a prosecutor to determine whether the case made seems sufficiently compelling to bring criminal charges.  A grand jury operates in secret and its proceedings are not open to the public, unlike a trial before a jury (a smaller assembly and classically a dozen although the numbers now vary and once it was sometimes called a petit jury (petit (small), from the Middle English petit, from the Old French petit, from the Late Latin pitittus, a diminutive of pit-).  It is this smaller jury which ultimately will pronounce whether a defendant is guilty or not; all a grand jury does is determine whether a matter proceeds to trial in which case it will issue an indictment, which at law is a formal accusation.  The origins of the grand jury in medieval England, where it was used as a means of investigating and accusing individuals of crimes was to prevent abuses of power by the king and his appointed officers of state although it was very much designed to protect the gentry and aristocracy from the king rather than any attempt to extend legal rights to most of the population.

The grand jury has been retained in the legal systems of only two countries: the US and Liberia.  Many jurisdictions now use a single judge or magistrate in a lower court to conduct a preliminary hearing but the principle is the same: what has to be decided is whether, on the basis of the evidence presented, there’s a reasonable prospect a properly instructed (petit) jury would convict.  In the US, the grand jury has survived because the institution was enshrined in the Fifth Amendment to the Constitution: “No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger.”  In England, the grand jury was thought a vital protection against arbitrary prosecutions by the government, and it was included in the Bill of Rights (1689) to ensure individuals would not be subject to unjustified criminal charges.  There is an argument that, by virtue of England’s wondrously flexible unwritten constitution, the grand jury hasn't been abolished but they're merely no longer summoned.  It's an interesting theory but few support the notion, the Criminal Justice Act (2003) explicitly transferring the functions to the CPS (Crown Prosecution Service) and the model of the office of  DPP (Director of Public Prosecutions) has been emulated elsewhere in the English-speaking world.  Presumably, a resuscitation would require the DPP to convene a grand jury and (if challenged on grounds of validity) the courts have to concur but as late as 1955 an English court was prepared to hold a court which had for centuries neither sat nor held a hearing remained extant so the arguments would be interesting.

The “Grand Mercedes”: The Grosser tradition

Der Grossers: 1935 Mercedes-Benz 770 K (W07) of Emperor Shōwa (Hirohita, 1901–1989, emperor of Japan 1926-1989 (left)), Duce & Führer in 1939 Mercedes-Benz 770 K (W150) leading a phalanx of Grossers, Munich, 1940 (centre) and comrade Marshal Josip Broz Tito (1892–1980) in 1966 Mercedes-Benz 600 six-door Landaulet (W100), Belgrade, 1967 (right).

Produced in three series (770 K (W07, 1930–1938 & W150, 1939-1945) & 600 (W100, 1963-1981)) the usual translation in English of “Grosser Mercedes” is “Grand Mercedes” and that is close to the German understanding which is something between “great”, “big” and “top-of-the-line”.  In German & Austrian navies (off & on) between 1901-1945, a Großadmiral (Grand Admiral) was the equivalent to the (five star) Admiral of the Fleet (UK) or Fleet Admiral (US); the rank was abolished in 1945 and has never been re-established.  When the 600 was released in 1963, it may have been the last time a single model could be described as "the best car in the world" but, driven to extinction in 1981 by an oil crisis and an array of regulations never envisaged when it was designed, it wasn’t replaced and the factory didn’t return to the idea until a prototype was displayed at the 1997 Tokyo Motor Show.  The specification and engineering was impressive but the appearance was underwhelming, a feeling reinforced when the production version (2002-2013) emerged not as an imposing Grosser Mercedes but a Maybach, a curious choice which seemed to suggest a marque which for a century had been the choice of popes, presidents & potentates was no longer good enough.  Although dynamically a fine car (at the time the best of its type), the Maybach looked something like a big Hyundai and lingered for a slow-selling decade before an unlamented death, suggesting the MBAs (Master of Business Administration) who decided on a re-branding using a name with little resonance except among except automotive & military historians should stick to creating campaigns for washing powder.

Grand, Grand Luxe & Gran

Jaguar 420G publicity material, 1966.

Car manufacturers were attracted to the word because of the connotations (bigger, better, more expensive etc).  When in 1966 Jaguar updated the slow-selling Mark X (1961-1966), it was integrated into what proved a short-lived naming convention, based on the engine displacement.  Under the system, with a capacity of 4.2 litres (258 cubic inch) the thing had to be called 420 but there was a smaller saloon in the range so-named so the bigger Mark X was renamed 420G.  Interestingly, when the 420G was released, any journalist who asked was told “G” stood for “Grand” which is why that appeared in the early reports although the factory seems never officially to have used the word, the text in the brochures reading variously: 420G, 420 G or 420 “G”.  The re-naming did little to encourage sales although the 420G remained in production until 1970 by which time production had dwindled to a trickle, the car rendered instantly a relic when the epoch-making XJ6 (in three generations, 1968-1992) made its debut in 1968.  The use of a "G" is unusual in product names although it has appeared as a part of alphabetical sequences (bras and certain Chryslers for example) but when in 1989 the now defunct software manufacturer Lotus released a version of their 1-2-3 spreadsheet for IBM's new OS/2 operating system, it was called 1-2-3/G, the "G" a nod to the product using OS/2's Presentation Manager (a GUI (Graphical User Interface)).  Lotus 1-2-3 was one of the PC (personal computer) industry's original "killer apps" and along with WordPerfect & dBASE III was the backbone of corporate software in the 1980s but the universe shifted and all are now historic footnotes.  As IBM had for OS/2, Lotus had grand plans for 1-2-3/G but both fell victim to Microsoft's better implemented strategy for global domination.   

The tale of the Mark X & 420G is emblematic of the missed opportunities and mismanagement which would afflict the British industry during the 1970s & 1980s.  In 1961, the advanced specification of the Mark X (unitary construction, independent rear suspension, four-wheel disc brakes) made it an outstanding platform and had Jaguar fitted an enlarged version of the larger of the two superb V8s they had gained with their purchase in 1960 of Daimler, it would have been an ideal niche competitor in mid-upper reaches of the lucrative US market.  Except for the engine, it needed little change except better ventilation and the installation of a good air-conditioning system, then already perfected by Detroit.  Although the Daimler V8 and Borg-Warner gearbox couldn't have matched the ultimate refinement of what Detroit was building (by then the finest engine-transmission combinations in the world), the English pair certainly had their charms and would have seduced many.

1969 Pontiac Grand Prix SJ 428.  The use of "SJ" was a borrowing from the celebrated Duesenberg SJs (1932-1937) a breed that exerted an influence well beyond the three dozen built.

Pontiac’s memorable 1969 Grand Prix also might have gained some allure from the word.  The term “Grand Prix” still is most associated with top-level motorsport (although it originally was borrowed from Grand Prix de Paris (Big Prize of Paris), a race for thoroughbred horses staged at the Longchamps track) so although Pontiac’s rather large 1962 Grand Prix was far removed from a racing car, it was marketed on the basis of “high performance” so the tag would have made sense given the way labels were applied in the era.  However, big as it was, it got bigger and the second generation (1965-1968) morphed into something truly grand in size if not dynamic qualities.  Style returned when the third generation (1969-1972) was released, the look dominated by the elongated nose that truly was a triumph of fashion over function; although fitted with V8 engines with displacements as large as 455 cubic inches (7.5 litre), the power-plants, while relatively wide, were quite short and under that long hood (bonnet) was a compartment that easily could have housed a V16.  As a piece of packaging efficiency it was an absurdity but undeniably it was a dramatic look and sales spiked.  The 1969-1970 cars remain the most highly regarded of the third generation, the few hundred with the 428 cubic inch (7.0 litre) HO (High Output) V8 coupled with a four-speed manual transmission the most collectable.  From there, although over a further five generations the Grand Prix remained successful enough to remain in the catalogue until 2008, the best years were over and at some point in the 1970s or 1980s (opinions differ), there was little about the by then dreary Grand Prix which seemed at all grand.

Although a bit deluxe, not especially grand: 1980 TF (Mark V) Ford Cortina GL.

During the interwar years (1919-1939) “deluxe” (borrowed from the world of fashion) found to be a good label to apply to a car with bling added and sold for a premium well beyond what the adornments cost; the concept proved so profitable it remains practiced to this day.  Deluxe (sometimes as De luxe) was a commercial adaptation of the French de luxe (of luxury), from the Latin luxus (excess), from the primitive Indo-European lewg- (bend, twist).  The “deluxe” label worked so well it begat “Super Deluxe” & “Grand Luxe” both genuinely coinings of the industry.  Deluxe and Grand Luxe eventually fell from favour as model names for blinged-up creations became more inventive but the initializations L, DL & GL were adopted by some, the latter surviving longest by which time it was understood to signify just something better equipped and thus more expensive; it’s doubtful many made a literal connection to “Grand Luxe”.

1970 Plymouth Barracuda Gran Coupe Convertible in Plum Crazy (FC7).

A linguistic curiosity of the US motor industry in the 1970s was “Gran”, technically a truncation of “grand” but with no connection with “gran” as an affectionate diminutive of “grandmother” or the many uses (as Gran) as a proper noun (surnames, locality names etc).  It was Chrysler’s Plymouth Division that for years championed “Gran” (though Buick used it too) and while the Gran Fury (1980-1989) was the longest serving, more linguistically interesting were the “Gran Coupe” (1970-1971) versions of the third generation (1970-1974) Barracuda and the 1971 Fury III Gran Coupe.  The Barracuda Gran Coupe was a bit of mission creep for the word “coupe” because the model was available as both a two-door hardtop and a convertible (in 1970 only).  That was at the time unusual but not wholly without (a partial) precedent because for generations English manufacturers had referred to their larger convertibles as DHCs (drophead coupé).

1971 Plymouth Fury III Gran Coupe (which was a four-door hardtop).

However, the 1971 Fury III Gran Coupe was in the US a genuine first because it had four doors.  The notion of a “four-door coupé” was not new because in the UK, Rover (a company with a history of adventurism in engineering which belied its staid image) in 1962 released a pillared version of the 3 Litre (P5, 1958-1967) four-door saloon with a lowered roof-line and some different interior fittings; this they named “3 Litre Coupé” which puzzled those who had become used to the designation being applied to two-door machines but etymologically, Rover was correct.  Coupé was from the French coupé, an elliptical form of carosse coupé (cut carriage), past participle of couper (to cut)).  Rover did cut-down the roof of the P5 so that was consistent with the etymology but shamelessly, Plymouth, which in 1970 had offered (an uncut) two door Fury II Gran Coupe, for 1971 introduced (the uncut) Fury III Gran Coupe with four door hardtop bodywork.  So, there are (uncut) four door coupes because Plymouth said so.  The mysterious “Gran” seems to have been used for no reason other than sounding vaguely “European” and therefore imparting a more “upmarket” image than the by then common “Grand”.  It was at the time a trend which saw the adoption of “Brougham”, “Monaco”, “Cordoba”, “Monte Carlo”, “rich Corinthian leather” and such although the brutish “Grand” would make a comeback when Plymouth turned to making people movers (vans with more seats).

In the matter of Grand Theft Auto (GTA5): Lindsay Lohan v Take-Two Interactive Software Inc et al, New York Court of Appeals (No 24, pp1-11, 29 March 2018)

In a case which took an unremarkable four years from filing to reach New York’s highest appellate court, Lindsay Lohan’s suit against the makers (Take-Two, aka Rockstar) of the video game Grand Theft Auto V was dismissed.  In a unanimous ruling in March 2018, six judges of the New York Court of Appeals rejected her invasion of privacy claim which alleged one of the game’s characters was based on her.  The judges found the "actress/singer" in the game merely resembled a “generic young woman” rather than anyone specific.  Unfortunately the judges seemed unacquainted with the concept of the “basic white girl” which might have made the judgment more of a fun read.

Beware of imitations: The real Lindsay Lohan and the GTA 5 ersatz, a mere "generic young woman".

Concurring with the 2016 ruling of the New York County Supreme Court which, on appeal, also found for the game’s makers, the judges, as a point of law, accepted the claim a computer game’s character "could be construed a portrait", which "could constitute an invasion of an individual’s privacy" but, on the facts of the case, the likeness was "not sufficiently strong".  The “…artistic renderings are an indistinct, satirical representation of the style, look and persona of a modern, beach-going young woman... that is not recognizable as the plaintiff" Judge Eugene Fahey (b 1951) wrote in his ruling.  Judge Fahey's words recalled those of Potter Stewart (1915–1985; associate justice of the US Supreme Court 1958-1981) when in Jacobellis v Ohio (378 U.S. 184 (1964) writing of the concept of "obscenity" he wrote: “I shall not today attempt further to define… and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so.  But I know it when I see it…”  Judge Fahey knew a basic white girl when he saw one; he just couldn't name her.  Lindsay Lohan's lawyers did not seek leave to appeal.

The game’s developers may have taken the risk of incurring Lindsay Lohan’s wrath and indignation because they’d been lured into a false sense of security by crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) not filing a writ after a likeness of her appeared on GTA 4’s (2008) Statue Of Happiness which stands on Happiness Island, just off the coast of Liberty City.  The Statue of Happiness was a blatant knock-off of New York’s Statue of Liberty and crooked Hillary became a determined and acerbic critic of Rockstar and the GTA franchise when details of the “Hot Coffee affair” were revealed.  That controversy arose after modders promulgated a code which in GTA: San Andreas’ release (2004) unlocked a hidden “mini-game” which allowed players to control explicit on-screen sex acts.  Men having sex (however defined) with women with whom they don’t enjoy benefit of marriage was a bit of a sore point with crooked Hillary, then a US senator (Democrat-New York), who embarked on a campaign for new regulations be imposed on the industry and the most immediate consequence was the ESRB (Entertainment Software Rating Board) launching an investigation, subsequently raising GTA: San Andreas’s rating from “M” (Mature) to “AO” (Adults Only, 18+) until the objectionable content was removed.  For those who wondered if the frankly frightening visage on the GTA 4 statute really was what some suspected, the object’s file name was “stat_hilberty01.wdr”.

Rockstar's Statue Of Happiness in GTA 4 (2008, left) and an official photograph of crooked Hillary Clinton (right). 

Rockstar seeking vengeance was understandable because crooked Hillary’s moral crusade proved tiresome for the company.  Once the ESRB had been nudged into action, crooked Hillary petitioned the FTC (Federal Trade Commission) to (1) find the source of the game's “graphic pornographic and violent content”, (2) determine if it should be slapped with an AO rating and (3) “examine the adequacy of the retailers' rating enforcement policies.”  Not content, she then announced she’d be sponsoring in the Senate a bill for an act to make it a federal crime (with a mandatory US$5,000 fine) to sell to anyone under 18, violent or sexually explicit video games; the FEPA (Family Entertainment Protection Act) was filed on 17 December, 2005 and referred to the Committee on Commerce, Science and Transportation, where quietly it was allowed to expire, the fate of many a bill over the years.

While the bill was undergoing a slow strangulation in committee hearings (killing bills one of the great arts in the US political system), the FTC and Rockstar reached a settlement, the commission ruling the company had violated the FTCA (Federal Trade Commission Act (1914)) by failing to disclose the inclusion of “unused, but potentially viewable” explicit content” (that it was enabled by a third party was held to be “not relevant”).  The settlement required Rockstar “clearly and prominently disclose on product packaging and in any promotion or advertisement for electronic games, content relevant to the rating, unless that content had been disclosed sufficiently in prior submissions to the rating authority” with violations punishable by a fine of up to US$11,000.  In the spirit of the now again fashionable Calvin "silent Cal" Coolidge (1872-1933; POTUS 1923-1929) era capitalism, no fine was imposed for the “hot coffee incident”, honor presumably satisfied by the company already having booked a US$24.5 million loss from the product recall earlier mandated.

Ellipsis

Ellipsis (pronounced ih-lip-sis)

(1) In grammar, the omission from a sentence or other construction of one or more words that would complete or clarify the construction.

(2) In grammar, the omission of one or more items from a construction in order to avoid repeating the identical or equivalent items that are in a preceding or following construction.

(3) In grammar, a sequence of three dots (…) appearing in a text to indicate a pause, sometimes used for dramatic effect such as a “wait for it” moment.

(4) In typography, a mark or marks (——;* * *; … etc) to indicate an omission or suppression of letters or words.  The sequence of three dots (…) is now the most common (four if used at the end of a sentence, the last a period (full stop).  In linguistics jargon, the “three dots” are also called “suspension dots” or “suspension points”.

(5) In mathematics, the use of such a convention to indicate a pattern continues (ie in “1, 2, 3, ..., 8, 9”, the numerals “4, 5, 6, and 7” are “implied” and thus “mentally included “as part of the pattern.  As a digital representation of the vulgar fraction “one third”, “0.333…” means it’s a “repeating decimal”, having “threes” going on to infinity, tending always towards (but never quite reaching “one third”).

(6) In geometry, an ellipse (obsolete though, confusingly, the adjectival elliptical endures).

(7) In film & television production, the omission of scenes that do not advance the plot.

(8) As vertical ellipsis (⋮), three dots) vertically aligned, used to extend a list vertically, or as mathematical notation for “is divisible by” or “is a multiple of” and latterly adopted in computer GUIs (graphical user interface) for various purposes, notably the “Customize and Control” drop-down menu in Google’s Chrome web browser (although Microsoft Edge and some other browsers based on the open source Chromium use a horizontal three dots).

1560–1570: An unadapted borrowing from the Latin ellīpsis, from the Ancient Greek ἔλλειψις (élleipsis) (omission; a falling short, defect), noun of action from elleipein (to fall short, leave out), from en- (in the sense of “in”) + leip- (stem of leípein (to leave) + -sis.  Leipein was reconstructed to be from the primitive Indo-European root leikw- (to leave).  The –sis suffix was from the Ancient Greek -σις (-sis) and was used to forms noun of action), often via Latin but increasingly also from French; it had exactly the same effect as the Latin –entia and the English -ing.  Historically, the use in terms borrowed from Ancient Greek was comparatively rare but there are many modern coinages based on Ancient Greek roots, reflecting to ongoing reverence for the ancient languages.  Confusingly, the word elliptical needs detailed explanation.  As an adjective, elliptical can mean (1) in geometry, in a shape of, or reminding of, an ellipse; oval or (2) in linguistics of, or showing ellipsis (having a word or words omitted); relating to or containing an instance of ellipsis or (3), of speech, concise or condensed.  The geometric use is also specific in botany, elliptical referring only to the general shape of the object (typically a leaf), independently of its apex or margin (and sometimes the base), so that an “elliptic leaf” may at both ends be pointed.  A three-dimensional elliptical object is ellipsoid, while an object that is not a perfectly stretched circle is ovoid or obovoid (and to mathematicians, a circle is a type of elipse).  In the gym equipment business, am “elliptical trainer” is an exercise machine in which the feet of the user travel an elliptic path; they’re used to simulate stair climbing, walking, or running while offering the advantage of being “low impact”, meaning there’s less jarring to inflict excessive pressure on joints.  The synonym is eclipsis (omission of parts of a word or sentence).  Ellipsis, ellipsization & ellipsism are nouns, elliptical is a noun & adjective and elliptically is an adverb, the noun plural is ellipses.

In classical and medieval texts, ellipses were unmarked, but the practice of marking them originated in the scripts of late sixteenth century plays as a way to indicate the “imperfections of the voice”, the omissions, pauses and interruptions fundamental to spoken language (seen in the modern day discipline of “disfluencies”, something of a backwater in linguistics until the importance of the phenomenon in “natural language” was recognized by those developing AI (artificial intelligence) bots).  All those years ago, those inserting ellipsis marks all had much the same purpose but there was initially no standardization of form, a continuous rule (-), a series of hyphens (---), or a series of points (. . .) all used, and which appeared reflected sometimes the practice of the printer (or possibly what “hard” fonts were to hand in the operation’s typographical sets (ie sometimes technologically deterministic)).  Asterisks (***) were first employed to display hiatuses in the printer's copy-text, but, as rules and points came to be used for other forms of omission (such as censorship or citation), strings of asterisks became interchangeable with alternative forms of ellipsis marks.

Promotional poster for Ellipsis (2017).

The film's published synopsis was: “In the middle of a crowded city, the paths of two strangers, a man and a woman, collide.  This accidental, chance occurrence sets in motion a chain of events that sees the two strangers embark on a night of adventure and connection that challenges their separate lives.  Ellipsis is a film about the random nature of life and human interaction and the small choices that can set our course.  Set in Sydney over the course of one night, it is also a portrait of the city and its inhabitants.  The film celebrates the distinct nature and idiosyncrasies of the people that live and work there.”  As blubs go, that’s a bit long and something tighter would be: “A film for book club ladies who like to talk about their feelings.”  Tempted?  There's a trailer.

It wasn’t until late in the 1800s that clear distinctions of use emerged on the path to twentieth century standardization with the dash (or continuous rule) the most commonly used (signalling abrupt changes or breaks) while points implied something longer and more hesitant (the classic “pause”).  Points also became the preferred mark for indicating omissions from quotations with the asterisk assuming the primary role of marking footnotes (“*” for the first, “**” the second and so on although other distinctive symbols would also be used (the obelus (†) or dagger the best known of many) and for endnotes (appearing at the end of the chapter, sequential superscript numbers became the standard convention, an obvious innovation rendered essential as endnotes came to exist in dozens.  In some aspects, the “standardization” of English over the last century-odd has for some been regretful but in printing, the uniformity in typographic conventions has been welcomed by most.  While dictatorial edicts on matters of content rightly are resisted, the combination of increasingly pervasive style guides and standardized font-sets in word-processers (and the now apparently extinct variant, the “desktop publisher”) has been a positive influence, meaning texts almost always use the same “language of symbols”, removing one source of potential ambiguity.  This has meant most obviously (and helpfully): (1) hyphens now rarely make up a rule, (2) dashes are usually one em in length, (3) an ellipsis mark is comprised of three points (or four if a full-stop is added) and (4) the asterisks (that once often signified ellipses) now have a “substitutive rule” to indicate a word or phrase has been self-censored (usually to avoid use of a vulgarity although sometimes this is done in a way to make the original still obvious (“s**t” or “f**k”) while attempting to evade text-based electronic filters.  In the less standardized world of social media and such, variants are common (such as “f#$k”) and all these forms differ from redactions (solid black lines where the words or entire passages would appear), the intention genuinely to conceal identities or events.

Ellipses (in red ellipses) in the Google Chrome (left) and Microsoft Edge web browsers; in Chrome, a vertical ellipsis was used whereas in Edge they were the traditional horizontal form.

Technically, there was no difference in function, the “three dots” just shapes on the screen used by the GUI (graphical user interface) for similar purposes and why Google’s designers opted for one and Microsoft’s the other may just be an example of “product differentiation”, both browsers ultimately derived from the open-source Chromium project.  Microsoft’s original Edge was proprietary with a unique interface, the product necessitated by the company’s IE (Internet Explorer) becoming a victim of its own success, locked into a cul-de-sac of a development path because of the need to maintain backward compatibility with the large base of corporate users using software with a “high IE dependency”.  As things turned out, embarking on a separate development path was “a browser too far” (even with all Microsoft’s resources) and, once reality bit, the decision was taken to “jump on the Chromium bandwagon”.  Few mourned IE although nerds still pine for the download bucket.

Filmmakers like “Ellipsis” as a title.

In texts, the use of ellipses is common but compared with other “technical” words from the jargon of grammar, it’s not well known.  For that reason, some style guides suggest oral use is governed by one’s audience: If addressing a circle of scholars of English literature, one may be assured they’ll know the meaning but if the gathering less specialized, it’s permissible (indeed, probably desirable) to say “dot dot dot”; this is a “verbal clue” as opposed to the “visual clue” of “air quotes” one might use to indicate a word or phrase should be visualized as appearing within “quotation marks”.  When Henry Fowler (1858–1933) published his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926), the use of the ellipsis (and other symbols used in texts) was still so inconsistent as to demand an untypically long and detailed entry, the technical details of which might mystify modern readers brought up on standardized conventions; genuinely there have been advantages in the way word processors and editors have imposed a kind of “structural homogenization”.

Even in 1965 when the second edition (with a textual revision by Sir Ernest Gowers (1880–1966)) appeared, Henry Fowler’s original entry substantially was left unchanged but by 1996 when there was a major update by Robert Burchfield (1923–2004), the entry radically was different, reflecting (1) the publishing industry having removed (almost all) inconsistencies and (2) readers being now less familiar with the kind of descriptive language Henry Fowler used because his expectation was of reaching an “educated audience”.  Many modern readers of a book like A Dictionary of Modern English Usage are of course in some ways “better educated” than previous generations but it’s a “different education” (not “inferior”, just “different”).  While in some aspects what Mr Burchfield did was by the purists, not well-received (“purity” probably not a helpful world-view when judging changes in the use of the English language) because he seemed all too accommodating of “lower standards”, his revision of the book’s entry for “Ellipsis” was helpful and common-sense, an indication of which was the same format being used by Jeremy Butterfield who edited the fourth edition (2015).  While the curmudgeons will continue to lament “linguistic promiscuity”, in some cases simplicity is better and anyway, some never forgave Burchfield for having “taken the lexicographical axe” to thousands of archaic words while an editor of the OED (Oxford English Dictionary).

A Lohanic ellipsis in action.  The operative part of the text: “It's waist-length, perfectly coiffed, and... blonde?” is read “…and [pause] blonde?”  As Ms Lohan points out, the distinction between “blonde” and “strawberry blonde” is significant because the latter happens at the margins of red.

So, in modern use, the working definition of ellipsis is accepted as the one appearing in the OED: “The omission of one or more words in a sentence, which would be needed to complete the grammatical construction or fully to express the sense.”  In spoken form, the ellipsis is so common as usually to pass unnoticed (such as: “Want some?” in which the pronoun has been dispensed with).  In other words, the ellipsis is an essential part of the “verbal shorthand” that comprises so much of conversational English, constructs created by a process in which certain notional elements of a sentence may be omitted if clearly they are predictable or recoverable by virtue of context.  Indeed, in “legitimate” use, English grammar really “demands” the omission of certain elements if sentences are to be thought “elegant”, the most obvious the injunction not the repeat the definite article: “He heard the whirr and ʌ click of machinery; (ie infinitive marker to not repeated before a second infinitive) or “I was forced to leave and ʌ give up my work at the hospital” (subject not repeated).  That doesn’t mean insertion of the missing elements is wholly proscribed because, if for dramatic effect some degree of emphasis is required, the repetition is an accepted device, but, but in everyday use or declarative or narrative prose, ellipsis is the “natural” form.  Those wishing to perform textual analysis of what’s been digitized will find many fields in literature littered with both ellipses and their deliberate avoidance.  Being English, in academic linguistics a remarkable number of variant forms have been identified and defined, the CGEL (A Comprehensive Grammar of the English Language (1985), edited by Professor Randolph Quirk (1920–2017) et al) needing more than 50 pages to list, illustrate, and label them all (strict, standard, situational, structural etc).  Of course the “rules” work because they interact with the human brain and, both being flexible, the “imaginary words” usually come quickly to mind.

The “rules” do however extend to defining “unacceptable types”, the most often cited being if two auxiliary verbs that operate in different ways are placed together.  So although it doesn’t seem obviously clumsy, one should not say or write: “No state has or can adopt such measures” because idiomatic tradition has come to require: “No state has adopted or can adopt such measures”.  Burchfield’s caution was: “When a change of grammatical voice is involved, ellipsis spells danger.  A reader cannot be expected to make the necessary adjustment from the active voice to the passive and supply an omitted part of the passive form.”  With that, old Henry Fowler would have concurred and even in the later editions one of his examples from 1926 was cited: “Mr Dennett foresees a bright future for Benin if our officials will manage matters conformably with its ‘customs’, as they ought to have been [insert managed]”. Comparisons can also produce unacceptable sequences when unwise ellipses are attempted: “The paintings of Monet are as good or better than those of van Gogh [read as good as or better than].  Perhaps less obviously wrong but best avoided is leaving out an auxiliary which is not the same number (singular/plural) as one that is given: “The murderer was hanged and his followers ʌ imprisoned [ellipsis of were].”  Of course, in non-standard speech the rules often are not followed and in literature are ignored for “conversational authenticity” a person in the US in 1973 affecting to be unaware of the Watergate scandal likely in certain circles to be admonished: “Watergate, man, where you been [insert have]?”  A sentence like that is also fun to play with by changing the emphasis on each word, each producing a subtle shift in effect.

The Oxford Handbook of Ellipsis (2018), edited by Jeroen van Craenenbroeck (b 1976) and Tanja Temmerman (b 1985).

That the concept of the ellipsis sounds simple and easily is illustrated by examples (“Sarah likes coffee and Jane, tea”) may leave some baffled the CGEL could fill 50-odd, densely packed pages on the topic but in modern structural linguistics, specialist scholars think that a mere bullet-point list.  For those wishing further to explore, there is The Oxford Handbook of Ellipsis (2018) and, running to an impressive 1148 pages and weighing in at 1.89 kg (4.16 lb), it’s a hefty tome, academically and physically.  Importantly, the work is not restricted to the way the ellipsis phenomena operates in English, a dozen-odd languages explored, examining, as the editors put it: “inter- & intralinguistic variation”.

Those wanting simply directions on “right & wrong” constructions are better off with a style guide but for word nerds of the le langage pour le langage school (language for language (best translated as “language focusing on itself”)) in the tradition of Russian literary theorist & linguist Roman Jakobson (1896–1982 and one of the most influential figures in structural linguistics), any deep dive into metalinguistics is tempting and somewhere in those 1148 pages must surely be “the last word on ellipsis”.  The Oxford Handbook of Ellipsis is divided into four parts: (1) the purpose of ellipsis and how it may be analysed when mapped to various theoretical frameworks, (2) an exploration of the utility of ellipsis as a diagnostic tool for other linguistic phenomena, (3) descriptions of the types of elliptical constructions found in natural language, such as “sluicing, gapping, and null complement anaphora” (students of jargon will not be disappointed by this work) and (4) case-studies in languages, including Russian, Hungarian, Dutch, Japanese, Persian and Finnish Sign Language.  The text is spread over 38 chapters, the tempting titles include Codeswitching, Sluicing and Its Subtypes, Predicate Ellipsis, Gapping and Stripping and Comparative Deletion.

Dysphemism

Dysphemism (pronounced dis-fuh-miz-uhm)

(1) The substitution of a harsh, disparaging, unpleasant or offensive word or phrase expression for something dignified, innocuous or neutral (ie the opposite of “euphemism”).

(2) A word or phrase so substituted (eg “shrink” for psychiatrist; “cancer stick” for cigarette; “ambulance chaser” for lawyer etc).

1873: The construct was dys- + (eu)phemism.  The Greek dysphemia meant “ill language, words of ill omen”, deconstructed simply as dys- (bad, abnormal, difficult) + phēmē (speech, voice, utterance, a speaking).  The dys- prefix was from New Latin dys- (used to convey the idea of being difficult, impaired, abnormal, or bad), from the Ancient Greek δυσ- (dus-) (hard, difficult, bad), from the Proto-Hellenic dus-.   It was cognate to the Proto-Germanic tuz- (hard, difficult, wrong, bad (ie the English "tore") and the Proto-Iranian duš- (bad).  Understandably, confusion with the separately derived prefix dis- is not uncommon.  The dis- prefix was from the Middle English dis-, from the Old French des from the Latin dis, from the proto-Italic dwis, from the primitive Indo-European dwís and cognate with the Ancient Greek δίς (dís) and the Sanskrit द्विस् (dvis).  It was applied variously as an intensifier of words with negative valence and to render the senses “incorrect”, “to fail (to)”, “not” & “against”.  In Modern English, the rules applying to the dis prefix vary and when attached to a verbal root, prefixes often change the first vowel (whether initial or preceded by a consonant/consonant cluster) of that verb. These phonological changes took place in Latin and usually do not apply to words created (as in Modern Latin) from Latin components since the language was classified as “dead”.  The combination of prefix and following vowel did not always yield the same change and these changes in vowels are not necessarily particular to being prefixed with dis (ie other prefixes sometimes cause the same vowel change (con; ex)).  Dysphemism & dysphemist are nouns, dysphemistic & dysphemistical are adjectives and dysphemistically is an adverb; the noun plural is dysphemisms.

Virgil pointing out the Erinyes (1890), engraving by Gustave Doré (1832–1883).

Dating from 1656, euphemism was from the Ancient Greek εὐφημισμός (euphēmismós) (use of a favorable word in place of an inauspicious one, superstitious avoidance of words of ill-omen during religious ceremonies), from εὐφημίζω (euphēmízō), from εὔφημος (eúphēmos & euphemizein (speak with fair words, use words of good omen)).  Despite the impression conveyed by disapproving historians like Arnold Toynbee (1889-1975) the Romans, like all the cultures of antiquity, used euphemisms but it does seem true the Athenians were the most delicate of all, so careful to avoid ill-omened words they called their prison “the chamber” and the executioner “the public man” while the hardly convivial Furies (Erinyes) they called Eumenides (the “kindly ones” or “Venerable Goddesses”).  The construct was εὖ (eû) (good; well) + φήμη (phḗmē) (a voice, a prophetic voice, rumor, talk) + -ismos (-ism).  The Greek phēmē was from φάναι (phánai) (to speak, say), from the primitive Indo-European root bha (to speak, tell, say).  The concept was well-known in Hellenic culture, the Ancient Greek aristeros (the better one) a euphemism for “the left (hand)”.  In English, it was originally a rhetorical term, the broader sense of “choosing a less distasteful word or phrase than the one meant” in use since at least 1793 and common by the 1830s.  The most common of the derived forms was the adverb euphemistically, documented since 1833 although the first use is uncertain.  The –ism suffix was from the Ancient Greek ισμός (ismós) & -isma noun suffixes, often directly, sometimes through the Latin –ismus & isma (from where English picked up ize) and sometimes through the French –isme or the German –ismus, all ultimately from the Ancient Greek (where it tended more specifically to express a finished act or thing done).  It appeared in loanwords from Greek, used to form abstract nouns of action, state, condition or doctrine from verbs and on this model, was used as a productive suffix in the formation of nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition, principles, doctrines, a usage or characteristic, devotion or adherence (criticism; barbarism; Darwinism; despotism; plagiarism; realism; witticism etc).  Euphemism & euphemist are nouns, euphemistic & euphemistical are adjectives and euphemistically is an adverb; the noun plural is euphemisms.

Patterns of use: dysphemism vs euphemism.

Google Ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure): Because of the way Google harvests data for their Ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, Ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts (typically a scanner might misread an “f” for a long “s” or a “u” for an “n”) of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI (artificial intelligence) should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Whether in general use dysphemisms are more or less common than euphemisms can be debated although, impressionistically, it does seem likely the latter enjoyed a long history of prevailing in print, the reasons for that including politeness and fear, both of the stroke of the censor’s pen and the lawyer’s writ for defamation.  In the age when social media affords users (still) a degree of anonymity, the use of dysphemisms probably has increased but the word itself remains rare while “euphemism” and its derive forms continues to flourish.  The history also was interesting; although first in print between 1873-1884 (as the French formation dysphémisme (modelled after euphémisme)), not until 1927 was there a revival when, after French-Belgium philologist Dr Albert Carnoy’s (1878-1961) “rediscovery”, he granted it an entry in La Science du Mot, Traité de Sémantique (The Science of the Word: A Treatise on Semantics, 1927) although he was no fan, including in his definition: “Dysphemism is unpitying, brutal, mocking. It is also a reaction against pedantry, rigidity and pretentiousness, but also against nobility and dignity in language.”  Dr Carnoy was one of those now little-acknowledged toilers in the dusty archives of linguistics and his work on the etymology of Indo-European languages (especially Indo-Iranian) provided some of the framework still used today.

Daddy-daughter day: Lear and Goneril in the RSC's (Royal Shakespeare Company) 1953 production of King Lear.

One plausibly could say the euphemism is “essential” to civilized life while (perhaps generously), dysphemism is “desirable” for those wishing to “make a point”.  A dysphemism is the deliberate substitution of a harsh, offensive, contemptuous or otherwise negatively charged expression for a more neutral one and although common in everyday discourse, there are also specialized forms (political speech or literary devices) where, rather than being spur-of-the-moment “swap”, the forms often rehearsed and polished although often not original; like euphemisms, dysphemisms tend to be clichéd, indeed, both often tend on that quality for their effect.  In their own ways, the use of dysphemisms in politics and literature is both “idealized” and “exaggerated” while those heard in general conversation can tend to be less elegant or rhythmic.  William Shakespeare (1564–1616) of course knew how to gain effect by blending elegance with brutishness, that “light & dark” in the words (Act 2, scene 4) of the king in King Lear (circa 1605) to his daughter Goneril:

But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter,

Or, rather, a disease that’s in my flesh,

Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a boil,

A plague-sore or embossèd carbuncle

General Franco lies in state, Royal Palace Madrid, 21 November, 1975.  In his life, Franco attracted many dysphemisms and fifty years on from his death, that continues, the Franco-era remaining Spain's great fault-line.

As dysphemisms within a family go, that’s pretty extreme, labelling her a “boil”, “plague-sore” or “embossèd carbuncle” (ie a repulsive, diseased growth on his body) rather than the usual “I’m very disappointed in you” or even “you’re an ungrateful, wicked, bad daughter”.  Obviously a family with “issues” and one “unhappy in its own way”.  Nor did Shakespeare spare the feelings of the Jews.  In The Merchant of Venice (1598), old Shylock repeatedly is subjected to dysphemistic descriptions, most famously: “the devil” and “a misbeliever, cut-throat dog”.  The canine reference is very much cross-cultural; although “man’s best friend” and among the most popular domestic pets, “dog” is in many traditions a classic dysphemism.  As a literary sub-type and in political propaganda, there’s a long history of animals being an element in which the dysphemism is metaphorical dehumanisation.  Pig, dog, rat, worm, parasite, vermin, mouse, dinosaur, leech etc deployed for various effects, notable practitioners being the old Soviet Union (including its client states behind the Iron Curtain, the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) when the “communist” bit was still taken seriously and the DPRK (Democratic Republic of Korea (North Korea)), the latter really liking “dog”, sometimes with adjectival enhancement, often as a prelude to a sentence of execution.  There are many ways of using animals as points of comparison with the character of individuals that can at least verge on the complimentary (lion, tiger, shark etc) but “dog” is applied usually with contempt.  While it was Jeff Kennett (b 1948; premier of the Australian state of Victoria 1992-1999) who came “claim ownership” of the phrase: “He has all the attributes of a dog… except loyalty”, it’s believed to have earlier been by Andrew Peacock (1939–2021; leader of the Liberal Party of Australia 1983–1985 and 1989–1990) of Peter Costello (b 1957; treasurer of Australia 1996-2007) in one of those internecine squabbles that usually are more nasty (and thus amusing) than any invective directed at notional political opponents.  The use extends even to the dog's bark.  After the nationalist forces under Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975) prevailed in the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939 and a very bloody business), his troops were told, were they to hear anyone speaking in the Basque or Catalan dialects, they were to be told: “Speak the language of the empire, don't bark like dogs.” 

A Fishmonger's Shop (1873), watercolor on paper by Frederick Walker (1840–1875).  The artist was a keen fisher (the known as a fisherman) and such was his attention to detail, a dozen-odd species have been identified.

Applying his techniques to the another Abrahamic faith, in Act 1, Scene 1 of Othello (1603), Shakespeare has the villainous Iago shout at the nobleman Brabantio, waking him to tell him his daughter Desdemona, has eloped with Othello, the Moor: “Even now, now, very now, an old black ram is tupping [a term from animal husbandry describing “livestock mating”] your white ewe.”  Now that might be listed as “Islamophobic”, joining much of the treatment of Shylock as “anti-Semitic” but Othello’s dysphemistic range extended to “sexism”, calling his own wife a “strumpet” (used by Shakespeare in the sense of “prostitute”) rather than addressing her by name.  Being English and “middle class”. Shakespeare was of course class-conscious and in Hamlet (circa 1600), he has the prince describe Polonius as: “a fishmonger”.  Fishmonger is of course an honorable profession but what Shakespeare wanted was a word Hamlet would choose as a means contemptuously to reduce Polonius to a supposedly vulgar, grasping tradesman and snobby Hamlet was in the habit of applying “degrading” labels to those he disliked.  The tradition endures: While in Berlin’s Spandau Prison serving the sentences they were lucky to receive from the IMT (International Military Tribunal) at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946), Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) and Walther Funk (1890–1960; Nazi economics minister & central bank president) had a argument about a light bulb, Speer in an entry of 14 October, 1952 in his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries, 1975)) recording the exchange:

Big quarrel among all of us because of the lighting problem.  Everyone wants something different.  Violent discussion.  Funk backs off ten paces and berates all of us.  When he starts using vulgar epithets, I shout back: ‘You sound like a truck driver!’  He clears out.  The first scene of this sort in seven years and, worse yet, in the presence of a guard.”  Of course, in Speer’s internal logic there would be nothing incongruous in one convicted war criminal thinking it an insult to compare the language of another to that of “a truck driver”, that occupation definitely not one associated with polite middle-class society, the “worse yet” explained by “prison guards” being of the “truck driver class”.  Speer wouldn’t have needed an explanation of the choice of words by Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ (1812–1870) novella A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas (now clipped usually to “A Christmas Carol” (1843)), the old curmudgeon’s contemptuous references to the poor: “Are there no prisons?; “Are there no workhouses?” the same sort of linguistic devaluation of human worth as his “truck driver” or “prison guard” being used not as neutral occupational descriptors but “categories of lesser intrinsic value”.

Nineteen Eighty-Four (first edition, 1949).  Modern re-prints have tended to use the numeric 1984 for the title.

Scrooge at least became a reformed character although, despite his decades of assiduous self-promotion, it seems doubtful Speer ever much changed his fundamental view of humanity and it may be he’d have seen the logic in the famous dysphemistic strategy for “preventing the children of poor people in Ireland, from being a burden on their parents or country, and for making them beneficial to the publick” suggested by the Anglo-Irish satirist & Anglican cleric Jonathan Swift (1667–1745) in A Modest proposal (1729).  Swift’s essay wholly was satirical and gained its effect from being written in ostensibly polite language, echoed later by the style in which Nazi-era documents (some from ministries headed by Speer) detailed appalling crimes in euphemism-laden texts that on surface analysis seemed innocuous bureaucratese.  Well acquainted with bureaucratese and the way language could be weaponized, in both Animal Farm (1945) and Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949), George Orwell (1903-1950) demonstrated the “sword & shield” potential of dysphemism & euphemism, one of his warnings the way “political language” could be used to reduce individuals to degraded categories, something later explored by those developing labelling theory.  That of course wasn’t new, the Polish-British novelist Joseph Conrad (pen name of Józef Teodor Konrad Korzeniowski, 1857–1924) in his novella Heart of Darkness (1899) used the brutish dysphemisms European colonial administrators applied casually to native Africans, reducing them to the status of animals, objects, or undifferentiated masses, again a technique that would have been familiar to Speer because an essential underpinning the whole Nazi racialist project was the need to have some people classified as “sub-human” and thus able without moral scruples to be “processed” as “livestock” or “beasts of burden”.  Conrad employed dysphemisms to expose the dehumanising psychology of colonialism as Orwell would later warn of the similar phenomenon in authoritarian states.

The Mean Girls Burn Book, a repository of the dysphemistic.

As might be expected, the film Mean Girls (2004) is a rich source of dysphemism, much of humor depending on deliberately derogatory or dehumanising language but, as a linguistic case-study, it’s of use also because, in the strict technical sense, not every “insult” is necessarily a dysphemism.  “Plastic” (and especially the collective “the Plastics”) certainly is dysphemistic and a classic example in that it takes a “neutral” word (using one of its two, well-known, “technical meanings”) and applies it to the clique of those individuals judged “artificial, fake, superficial etc”.  For deconstructionists, there’s also the contrast of the mix & match of dysphemism & euphemism in the text, indirect language of both flavours used when discussing sex, weight, menstruation etc although the labels applied to people tend to the former.  The script does illustrate the way dysphemism, pejoration, slur, insult, profanity, taboo language, and metaphorical dehumanisation can in some cases be distinguished while in others there’s obvious cross-categorization; in Mean Girls, much of the work done by language happens “at the margins” and the “Burn Book” in a way “institutionalises dysphemistic”, “burn” itself slang for an intentionally cutting insult.

At its most simple and most obvious, the dysphemism is merely the substitution of a harsh, disparaging, unpleasant or offensive word or phrase expression for something dignified, innocuous or neutral (ie the opposite of “euphemism”) and for centuries that’s been embedded in slang and used by authors, comedians and such as a source of bawdy humor, Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) in Canterbury Tales (1387-1400) clearly enjoying having his readers wallow in deliberately coarse or degrading terminology, notably for sexual behavior and bodily functions.  In that sense, it was “vulgarisation” a sub-set of dysphemism and perhaps (certainly in oral use) the most frequently practiced.  Dysphemism however is not of necessity something vulgar or insulting and can be a kind of “defense mechanism”; a way of “making light” of something disturbing or tragic.  In that vein, while “she died” is neutral, “she passed on” is euphemistic and “she kicked the bucket” is dysphemistic.  For those who wish to descend further into irrelevance there’s “she croaked”, “she karked it”, “she bit the dust” or “she fell of the perch”.

Leading Tory (Conservative Party) “Dry” Lord Norman Tebbit (1931–2025) on the cover of Private Eye magazine, 16 May, 1986.  The duel of the Tories' “Wets vs Dry” was something like “Dysphemisms at several dozen paces”.

Dysphemisms can also be adopted by those they were originally intended to disparage, notably in the 1980s by the “drys” (those on the nominal right of politics who would later be tagged “economic rationalists).  The “drys” liked the label and ran with it although their retribution (dubbing their opponents the “wets”) wasn’t embraced by them but at least they never got to be called “economic irrationalists” so there was that.   “Police officer” is a neutral descriptor (“law-enforcement professional” less a euphemism than a broader category of those employed on one side (although then can be fraying at the edges) of the crime business) while “cop” often was intended to disparage but in many places the “cops” came to like it, making it part of their slang, even using it in advertising and official documents.  In semiotics (the study of connotation & denotation of meaning in signs (words, marks, images etc)), the crucial aspect in whether a dysphemism remains a disparagement or emerges as something neutral or even embraced as at least quasi-affectionate is whether the pattern of popular use maintains or dissipates the originally deliberate “negative semantic loading”.  The verb "to cop" was from the Old French caper, from the Latin capere (to take or seize (the same root as capture)) and was known in English by the early 1700s.  By the middle of the nineteenth century, the noun “copper” was in common use to describe police constables and it survived and spread better than “peeler” or “bobby”, both a reference to Sir Robert Peel (1788–1850; Prime Minister of the UK 1834–1835 & 1841–1846) who, as Home Secretary (minister of the interior), introduced the Metropolitan Police Act (1829) establishing a police force for much of London and the surrounding areas).  The tales that “cop” was derived from “Constable on Patrol” (C.O.P.) or the copper buttons & badges part of the uniform were fanciful folk etymology; they were fake news. 

Fascist Pigs: Technoscientific Organisms and the History of Fascism (2017) by Tiago Saraiva (b 1972).

The stronger dysphemism “pig” has however always been disparaging and began not as a late twentieth century clipping of “fascist pig” but more than 150 years earlier, an entry appearing in Francis Grose’s (circa 1730-1791) Lexicon Balatronicum, (a dictionary of London slang).  According to Grouse, “pig” in this context was a clipping of “China Street pig”, underworld slang for a “Bow Street Officer” (the “Bow Street Runners” London's first professional, organized police force).  The porcine comparison was based on the criminal class’s view of policemen being as “greedy, dirty and unpleasant” as pigs although the reference was less to personal hygiene than the officers’ (probably not wholly undeserved) reputation for corruption and fondness for seizing for themselves a thief’s illicit loot or wallets.  Historians note also the “snout allusion”: the early undercover detectives and patrol officers characterized as “sniffing out crime”, much as a pig uses its snout to “root around” in search of something tasty.  In the UK, “copper”, “bobby” and “peeler” all supplanted “pig” but there was a revival of the latter in the US during the 1960s as the counter-culture, Vietnam War protesters, the Weather Underground and others became the police’s “usual suspects”.  This time there really was a connection with “fascist pig” and the Black Panther Party lent the use much cultural traction by prominent placement in newsletters, speeches and, most graphically, political cartoons depicting “police brutality”.  Media management wasn’t then the art it would become and attempts by some police forces to reclaim the word with “P.I.G.” campaigns (the initialism for “Pride, Integrity, Guts”) were greeted with derision so they stuck to being “cops”.  Not all looked as unfavourably upon pigs as the London underworld of old.  The quote: “I am fond of pigs.  Dogs look up to us.  Cats look down on us.  Pigs treat us as equals.” supposedly was said by Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) but like many memorable quips attributed to him, it’s unverified.  Always sentimental about animals (though one of England’s more voracious carnivores), it’s certainly something he might have said.