Hang

Hang (pronounced hang)

(1) To fasten or attach a thing so that it is supported only from above or at a point near its own top; to attach or suspend so as to allow free movement.

(2) To place in position or fasten so as to allow easy or ready movement.

(3) To put to death by suspending by the neck from a gallows, gibbet, yardarm, or the like; to suspend (oneself) by the neck until dead.

(4) To fasten to a cross; crucify.

(5) To furnish or decorate with something suspended.

(6) In fine art, to exhibit a painting or group of paintings.

(7) To attach or annex as an addition.

(8) In building, to attach (a door or the like) to its frame by means of hinges.

(9) To make an idea, form etc dependent on a situation, structure, concept, or the like, usually derived from another source.

(10) As hung jury, hung parliament etc, where deliberative body is unable to achieve a majority verdict in a vote.

(11) In informal use, to cause a nickname, epithet etc to become associated with a person

(12) In nautical use, to steady (a boat) in one place against a wind or current by thrusting a pole or the like into the bottom under the boat and allowing the wind or current to push the boat side-on against the pole.

(13) To incline downward, jut out, or lean over or forward.

(14) To linger, remain, or persist; to float or hover in the air.

(15) In informal use (to get the hang of), the precise manner of doing, using, etc, something; knack.

(16) In computing, as “to hang”, usually a synonym for “freeze”.  Nerds insist a hang refers only to a loss of control by manual input devices (mouse; keyboard etc) while the machine remains responsive to remote control whereas a freeze is a total lock-up.

(18) In chess (transitive) to cause a piece to become vulnerable to capture and (intransitive) to be vulnerable to capture.

(19) As “hang up”, to end a phone call, a use which has continued even though many phone handsets no longer physically “hang up”.

Pre 900:  A fusion of three verbs: (1) the Middle English and Old English hōn (to hang; be hanging) (transitive), cognate with the Gothic hāhan (originally haghan); (2) the Middle English hang(i)en & Old English hangian (to hang) (intransitive), cognate with the German hangen; and (3) the Middle English henge from the Old Norse hanga & hengja (suspend) (transitive), cognate with the German hängen & hangēn (to hang).  The ultimate source of all forms was the Proto-Germanic hanhaną (related to the Dutch hangen, the Low German hangen & hängen, the German hängen, the Norwegian Bokmål henge & Norwegian Nynorsk henga), root being the primitive Indo-European ḱenk- (to waver, be in suspense).  Etymologists compare the evolution with the Gothic hāhan, the Hittite gang- (to hang), the Sanskrit शङ्कते (śáṅkate) (is in doubt; hesitates), the Albanian çengë (a hook) and the Latin cunctari (to delay).  From the Latin cunctari, Modern English retains the very useful cunctator (a procrastinator; one who delays).

Past tense: hung and hanged

Hang has two forms for past tense and past participle, “hanged” and “hung”.  The older form hanged is now used exclusively in the sense of putting to death on the gallows by means of a lawful execution, sanctioned by the state.  Even in places where capital punishment is no longer used, it remains the correct word to use in its historical context.  There are two forms because the word “hang” came from two different verbs in Old English (with a relationship to one from Old Norse).  One of these Old English verbs was considered a regular verb and this gave rise to “hanged”; the other was irregular, and ended up as “hung”.  Hanged and hung were used interchangeably for hundreds of years but over time, hung became the more common.  Hanged retained its position when used to refer to death by hanging because it became fossilized in both statute and common law; it thus escaped the development of Modern English which tended increasingly to simplified forms.  Even the familiar phrase hung, drawn and quartered originally used “hanged”, a change reflecting popular use.  The only novel variation to emerge in recent years has been to use hanged to describe executions ordered by a state and hung when referring to suicides by hanging although this remains still a trend rather than an accepted convention of use.  Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) held it wasn't necessarily erroneous to use "hung" in the case of executions but in standard English it was certainly less customary although most style guides acknowledge the distinction still exists while noting the use of hung is both widespread and tolerated.  The consensus seems to be it’s best to follow the old practice but not get too hung up about it.

Portraits: hung and not hung

Most politicians, usually by virtue of uninterest, leave the arts to others but there are exceptions and while Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) wasn't unique among politicians in regarding himself as “an artist” he was untypical and his credentials were reasonable because in pre-World War I (1914-1918) Vienna he’s earned a modest living as a painter of the streetscapes in which there’s now a somewhat controversial trade.  Critics seem prepared to concede Hitler was a competent artist when depicting buildings and even the natural environment but all concurred with the examiners who denied him entry to art school on the basis he had not enough talent to handle the human form, a judgment some historians, political scientists and amateur psychoanalysts have over the years mapped onto his political career.  With that he may even have agreed because the people in his paintings are almost always small, un-detailed blotches there merely to lend scale to the buildings which were his real love but, after taking power in 1933, he didn’t let that stop establishing himself as the Reich’s chief art critic and he’d judge portraiture as harshly as any landscape.  He certainly thought an “artistic temperament” was vital for a politician to achieve greatness, rejecting the idea of Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945) succeeding him as Führer because the head of the SS was “totally unartistic” and it was Hitler’s self-identification as “an artist” which in the first decade of his rule protected many painters, sculptors and others from persecution.  In his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries) (1975)) Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) noted that for Hitler their political views were “…a matter of supreme indifference…” because “…he regarded them one and all as politically feeble-minded.”  Speer recalled a lunch in 1938 at Hitler’s favorite Italian restaurant, Munich’s Osteria Bavaria, when a senior Nazi functionary brought to the Führer’s attention a Communist Party proclamation (pre-dating the regime) which had been signed by a large number of artists; the apparatchik wanted all these artists banned from any government work but Speer recoded how “Hitler replied disdainfully, ‘Oh, you know I don’t take any of that seriously. We should never judge artists by their political views.  The imagination they need for their work deprives them of the ability to think in realistic terms. Artists are simple-hearted souls. Today they sign this, tomorrow that; they don’t even look to see what it is, so long as it seems to them well-meaning.’”  It was an indulgence to freedom of expression Hitler granted few others and a contrast also with what would have been the likely reaction of comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) to revelations of dissent.  Comrade Stalin’s three preferred ways of dealing with such problems were (1) have them murdered, (2) have them sent to the Lubyanka (KGB headquarters on Moscow's Lubyanka Square) to be tortured to death or (3) have them sent to the Gulag to be worked to death.

Portrait of Oliver Cromwell (1650), oil on canvas by Samuel Cooper.

Even if it’s something ephemeral, politicians are often sensitive about representations of their image but concerns are heightened when it’s a portrait which, often somewhere hung on public view, will long outlive them.  Although in the modern age the proliferation and accessibility of the of the photographic record has meant portraits no longer enjoy an exclusivity in the depiction of history, there’s still something about a portrait which conveys, however misleadingly, a certain authority.  That’s not to suggest the classic representational portraits have always been wholly authentic, a good many of those of the good and great acknowledged to have been painted by “sympathetic” artists known for their subtleties in rendering their subjects variously more slender, youthful or hirsute as the raw material required.  Probably few were like Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658; Lord Protector of the Commonwealth 1653-1658) who told Samuel Cooper (1609-1672) to paint him “warts and all”.  The artist obliged.

Although certain about the afterlife, Cromwell was a practical politician with few illusions about life on earth.  Once, when being driven in a coach through cheering crowds, his companion remarked that his popularity with the people must be pleasing.  The lord protector replied he had no doubt they’d be cheering just as loud were he being taken to the gallows to be hanged.

Exhibition of images of Lindsay Lohan by Richard Phillips (b 1962), hung in the Gagosian Gallery, 555 West 24th Street, New York, 11 September-20 October 2012.  Described by the artist as an installation, the exhibition was said to be "an example of the way Phillips uses collaborative forms of image production to reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format of these lush, large-scale works said to render them realist portraits of the place-holders of their own mediated existence."

Bad Teddy and Good Theodore: Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903), oil on canvas by Théobald Chartran (left) and Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903) oil on canvas by John Singer Sargent.

Nobel Peace Prize laureate Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919; US President 1901-1909), famous also for waging small wars and shooting big game, after being impressed by Théobald Chartran’s (1849–1907) portrait of his wife (Edith, 1861-1948), invited the French artist to paint him too.  So displeased was he with the result (which he thought made him look effete), he refused to hang the work.  Later, he would have it destroyed, turning turned instead to expatriate American artist John Singer Sargent (1856–1925).  The relationship didn’t start well as the two couldn’t agree on a setting and during one heated argument, the president suddenly, hand on hip, took on a defiant air while making a point and Sargent had his pose, imploring his subject not to move.  This one delighted Roosevelt and prominently it was hung in the White House.

Side by side: Portraits of Barak Obama (2011) and Donald Trump (2018), both oil on canvas by Sarah A Boardman, on permanent display, Gallery of Presidents, Third Floor, Rotunda, State Capitol Building, Denver, Colorado.

In March 2025 it was reported Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) was not best pleased with a portrait of him hanging in Colorado’s State Capitol; he damned the work as “purposefully distorted” and demanded Governor Jared Polis (b 1975; governor (Democratic) of Colorado since 2019) immediately take it down.  In a post on his Truth Social platform, Mr Trump said: “Nobody likes a bad picture or painting of themselves, but the one in Colorado, in the State Capitol, put up by the Governor, along with all the other Presidents, was purposefully distorted to a level that even I, perhaps, have never seen before.  The artist also did President Obama and he looks wonderful, but the one on me is truly the worst. She must have lost her talent as she got older.  In any event, I would much prefer not having a picture than having this one, but many people from Colorado have called and written to complain. In fact, they are actually angry about it!  I am speaking on their behalf to the radical left Governor, Jared Polis, who is extremely weak on crime, in particular with respect to Tren de Aragua, which practically took over Aurora (Don’t worry, we saved it!), to take it down. Jared should be ashamed of himself!”

At the unveiling in 2019 it was well-received by the Republicans assembled.  If Fox News had an art critic (the Lord forbid), she would have approved but presumably that would now be withdrawn and denials issued it was ever conferred.  

Intriguingly, it was one of Mr Trump’s political fellow-travellers (Kevin Grantham (b 1970; state senator (Republican, Colorado) 2011-2019) who had in 2018 stated a GoFundMe page to raise the funds needed to commission the work, the US$10,000 pledged, it is claimed, within “a few hours”.  Ms Boardman’s painting mush have received the approval of the Colorado Senate Republicans because it was them who in 2019 hosted what was described as the “non-partisan unveiling event” when first the work was displayed hanging next to one of Mr Trump’s first presidential predecessor (Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017), another of Ms Boardman’s commissions.  Whether or not it’s of relevance in the matter of now controversial portrait may be a matter for professional critics to ponder but on her website the artist notes she has “…always been passionate about painting portraits, being particularly intrigued by the depth and character found deeper in her subjects… believing the ultimate challenge is to capture the personality, character and soul of an individual in a two-dimensional format...”  Her preferred models “…are carefully chosen for their enigmatic personality and uniqueness...” and she admits some of her favorite subjects those “whose faces show the tracks of real life.”

Portrait of Winston Churchill (1954) by Graham Sutherland.

Another subject turned disappointed critic was Sir Winston Churchill.  In 1954, a committee, funded by the donation of a 1000 guineas from members of both houses of parliament, commissioned English artist Graham Sutherland (1903–1980) to paint a portrait of the prime minister to mark his 80^th birthday.  The two apparently got on well during the sittings, Churchill himself a prolific, if undistinguished, amateur painter (in 1948 he published the book Painting as a Pastime) and it’s said he enjoyed their discussions.  He was unimpressed though with the result, telling Sutherland that while he acknowledged his technical prowess, he found the work “not suitable”.  To his doctor he was less restrained, calling it "filthy" and "malignant".

Portrait of Laurence Olivier in the role of Richard III (1955) by Salvador Dalí.

It had been intended the painting would be hung in the House of Commons but Churchill had no intention of letting it be seen by anyone.  An unveiling ceremony had been arranged and Churchill demanded it not include the painting, relenting only when a compromise was arranged whereby both subject and artwork would appear together but rather than being hung in the Commons, it would instead be gifted to him to hang where he pleased.  Both sides appeased (if not pleased), the ceremony proceeded, Churchill making a brief speech of thanks during which he described his gift as “…a remarkable example of modern art..”, praise not even faint.  It was never hung, consigned unwrapped to the basement of the prime minister’s country house where it remained for about a year until Lady Churchill (Clementine, 1885–1977)), sharing her husband’s view of the thing, had a servant take it outside where it was tossed on a bonfire, an act of practical criticism Sutherland condemned as “vandalism”.  Not anxious to repeat the experience of his brush with modernism, Churchill declined the offer of a sitting before the Spanish surrealist Salvador Dalí (1904–1989), the result of which might have been interesting.  It's not known if Churchill ever saw Dali's interpretation of Laurence Olivier (1907-1989).

Two photographs of Winston Churchill (1941) by Yousuf Karsh.

Roosevelt’s pose is one favored by politicians but the expression adopted matters too.  The famous photograph taken in Ottawa in December 1941 by Armenian-Canadian Yousuf Karsh (1908-2002) was actually one of several but those where Churchill shows a more cheerful countenance are not remembered; they didn’t so well suit those troubled times.  The scowl, although immediately regarded as emblematic of British defiance of the Nazis, had a more prosaic origin, the photographer recalling his subject had appeared benign until it was insisted the ever-present Havana cigar be discarded lest it spoil the photograph.  That changed the mood but, the moment captured, he relented and permitted a couple more, including the now obscure ones with a smile.

Piquant

Piquant (pronounced pee-kuhnt, pee-kahnt or pee-kahnt)

(1) Agreeably pungent or sharp in taste or flavor; pleasantly biting or tart.

(2) Agreeably lively or stimulating to the mind; interesting or attractive (someone who may attract “a piquant glance”).

(3) Of an interestingly provocative or lively character (someone sometimes described as “a piquant wit”.

(4) In food, producing a burning sensation due to the presence of chilies or similar spices; spicy, hot (sometimes applied figuratively (of remarks, concepts et al).

(5) Sharp or stinging, hurtful of one’s feelings (archaic).

1520s: From the Middle French piquant (stimulating, irritating (literally “pricking”)), present participle of piquer (to prick; sting, nettle) which replaced pickante from the Italian piccante.  The ultimate source in French may have been the Old French pikier (to prick, sting, nettle).  The original sense in the 1520s was “something said that was scathing, sharp or stinging, hurting one’s feelings”, a use now obsolete.  By the 1640s the word was being used of an “agreeable pungency or sharpness of taste or flavor”, that by the 1690s extending to someone or something “smart, lively or racy in nature” which, under poetic influence, was from the early seventeenth century generalized to mean “stimulating to the senses; engaging; charming” and in parallel with this the foodies used it to mean “favorably stimulating to the palate; pleasantly spicy; tangy”.  That latter use still exists although some (especially in commerce) use piquant as a synonym merely for “very hot or spicy”; the comparative is “more piquant”, the superlative “most piquant”.    Piquant is an adjective, piquantness & piquancy are nouns and piquantly is an adverb; the noun plural is piquancies.

Piquant glances: Lindsay Lohan & Bader Shammas (b 1987).

The noun piquancy (created by appending the abstract noun suffix -cy) has endured while the companion noun piquantness is now rare.  The synonyms (applied variously to food, drink, ideas, music, literature, people etc) include spicy, pungent, poignant, racy, savory, peppery, tangy, zesty, interesting, lively, provocative, sharp, snappy, sparkling, spirited, stimulating, tart, intriguing & zestful while the most common antonyms seem to be insipid, bland & vapid.  The most neglected synonym is probably sapid (tasty, flavorsome or savory), from the Latin sapidus (savoury, delicious, tasty (and in the Late Latin “prudent, wise”) the construct being sap(iō) (to taste) +‎ -idus (the suffix used to form adjectives in the sense of “tending to”), from the Proto-Italic -iðos, from the primitive Indo-European -dhos, a thematized formation from dheh- (to put, place).  The attraction of reviving “sapid” is one can compliment another on their sapidity or tell them how admirable is their sapidness; as a pick-up line in a bar, it would have some novelty and sapid is an anagram of “iPads” which may appeal to some.

Hellfire Piquant Herbal Gin.

The Hellfire Distillery is located at Boomer Bay, on the east coast of Tasmania, Australia’s island state.  Despite the modern association of the word, the name of the place has nothing to do with the post-war “baby boom” (“boomer” (as an ellipsis of “baby boomer”) now an often disparaging term applied to those born between 1946-1964).  The source of the name is obscure but the most supported theory is as a reference to the large waves which crash ashore, the geography of the place lending a acoustic quality which amplifies the sound under certain climatic conditions.  “Boomer” is also old Australian slang for heavy waves which produce the loud “crashing” sounds.  There’s less support for the notion the name could be tied to the kangaroo; that the marsupial also is in some places known by the slang “boomer”, this is thought a coincidence.  The Hellfire Distillery provided the recipe for a Sloe gin (a gin made from blackthorn fruits) slushie:

Ingredients

2 tablespoons fresh mint leaves, shredded
250 grams fresh strawberries
¼ cup sugar syrup
500 grams watermelon, cubed and frozen
¼ cup Hellfire's Sloe Gin

Instructions

(1) Place strawberries, mint and sugar syrup in a blender; blitz until really smooth.
(2) Strain to remove seeds and pour the mixture into ice cube moulds; then freeze.
(3) In blender, add strawberry ice cubes, watermelon and gin; blend until smooth and slushy.
(4) Spoon into glasses and garnish with extra mint leaves (if desired).

The word “piquant” is widely used in the products of the industrial food industry.  It’s an exotic or gentrified way of denoting something as “pungent”, “hot” or “spicy”.

Lush

Lush (pronounced luhsh)

(1) Of vegetation, plants, grasses etc, luxuriant; succulent; tender and juicy; characterized by luxuriant vegetation.

(2) Of fruit (especially tropical varieties), succulent and fleshy; of food in general, savory, delicious (now rare).

(3) Characterized by luxuriousness, opulence etc.

(4) A habitual drinker of alcohol who is frequently intoxicated, applied usually as disparaging and offensive term and applied disproportionately to women.

(5) Alcoholic drink (archaic).

(6) In musical criticism (of sopranos in Opera), a notably rich, expressive voice; in music generally an antonym for austere or sparse, a use also extended to literature.

(7) In internet slang (of the young of any gender), beautiful, sexy; used also as a synonym generally for amazing, cool, fantastic, wicked (should be used only by the youthful).

(8) Of ground or the soil, in dialectal use, mellow; soft; easily turned; fertile.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English lusch (slack, relaxed, limp, loose), from the Proto-Germanic laskwaz (weak, false, feeble), from the primitive Indo-European lēy- (to let; leave behind).  It was akin to the Old English lysu (bad) & lǣc (lax), the Middle Low German las & lasch (slack), the Middle High German erleswen (to become weak), the Middle Low German lasch (slack, languid, idle),the Low German lusch (loose), the Old Norse lǫskr (weak, feeble) and the Gothic lasiws (weak, feeble).  A doublet of lusk.  Source was probably the Old French lasche (lax, lazy) from the Latin laxus (loose), from the Late Latin laxicare (become shaky) from the primitive European root sleg- (be slack, be languid).

Lindsay Lohan, on holiday in the tropical lushness of Thailand, 2017.

It began to be applied to dense vegetation circa 1600 when used that way by Shakespeare who was alluding to the languid appearance of foliage and the modern sense “luxuriant in growth" developed organically from there.  The Shakespearian origin is generally accepted but some etymologists have noted a link to a word in Gypsy (Romany) or Shelta (tinkers' jargon).  The use relating to alcoholic drink dates from circa 1790, the origin unknown but presumed to be a facetious link to the idea of juicy vegetation, saturated with liquid.  The early slang referred to the drink itself; in 1790 a “lush ken” was an alehouse but by 1890 had come to mean "drunkard" and as early as 1811 was used as a verb meaning “to drink heavily”, the adjective being lushey.    In 1823, Lushington was recorded as a humorous generic name for a heavy drinker which was perhaps unfortunate for some, it being a real surname.  It was in the twentieth century, perhaps in reaction to the greater social acceptability of women taking drink, that lush came to be an almost exclusively female descriptor; the linguistic shift part of the long (and continuing) tradition of men finding new ways to disparage women.  Lush is a noun & adjective, Lusher & lushest are adjectives, lushness is a noun and lushly an adverb.

Martha Mitchell, who got a bit of fun from life

John and Martha Mitchell, Washington DC, 1971.

Martha Mitchell (1918-1976) was the wife of John Mitchell (1913–1988; US attorney-general 1969–1972) who served under Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) as attorney general.  She gained a not undeserved reputation as a lush, Richard Nixon’s chief of staff (HR Halderman 1926-1993; chief of staff to the president 1969 1973) noting in his diary early in 1970 that “Martha’s behavior was sometimes outlandish, due to both emotional and drinking problems”.  More than once in the White House there was discussion about her being an embarrassment to her husband and the administration and a term emerged: "the Martha problem”.

Martha Mitchell, Time magazine cover, 30 November 1970.

The attorney-general’s wife being a lush not good but was tolerated, her husband actually attracting some sympathy, but, as the Nixon administration proceeded along its historic course, Martha’s drunken ramblings, including to journalists, raised real concerns.  Pillow-talk being a thing, she raised concerns about the dirty tricks and actual illegalities in which the administration was involved, especially the conduct of the 1972 election campaign which included the famous Watergate building break-in.  Figures in the administration then arranged to kidnap her so she could be kept incommunicado, the idea being the cover-up that was the Watergate affair would be better conducted without her around, part of the kidnapping having her forcefully sedated and locked up.  However, her accusations soon emerged and in little more than a year, Nixon would be forced to resign.  Martha had raised many of matters in an attempt to defend her husband who she believed was being set-up as the administration's “fall-guy” but, early in the scandal he resigned, later to be convicted of perjury, obstruction of justice, and conspiracy and jailed for some two years.  Soon after his resignation, the couple separated; they would never meet again.  To his dying day Nixon blamed Martha for the Watergate scandal, insisting she was such a distraction for the attorney-general that he neglected the oversight of the 1972 campaign, allowing others in the team to do bad things.

The Martha Mitchell Effect

The "Martha Mitchell Effect" is from the literature of psychiatry and refers to instances where a clinician labels a patient's accurate description of actual events as delusional, resulting in a misdiagnosis.  The significance of the Martha Mitchell Effect is that, strictly speaking, its application should be limited to those instances of misdiagnosis which arise because the clinician either relied upon or was unduly influenced by factors particular to the patient but not directly relevant to case being discussed.  Thus, because Martha was a notorious lush given to rambling, drunken accusations and claims of conspiracies, she was erroneously assumed to be displaying symptoms of mental illness.

New York Daily News, 26 June 1972.

In the profession, the Martha Mitchell Effect is something which can affect many (cognitive bias, misdiagnosis, diagnostic overshadowing, iatrogenic & over-diagnosis) of the circumstances which can produce false positives, a particular problem in psychiatry, where there are few objective clinical tests for most disorders, diagnosis relying so often on the subjectivity of both the patient report and interpretation of these symptoms by clinicians.  In real-world conditions, there’s no obvious way to create protocols to ensure the Martha Mitchell Effect doesn’t infect a diagnosis.  However, the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5, 2013) did change some of the criteria for delusional disorders, notably no longer requiring that delusions must be non-bizarre, a change which while obviously not removing subjectivity from the process, did offer some equality between patient and clinician.  The specifier for bizarre type delusions carried over from DSM-IV (1994), the demarcation of delusional disorder from psychotic variants of obsessive-compulsive disorder and body dysmorphic disorder augmented with a new exclusion criterion, which required the symptoms must not be better explained by conditions such as obsessive-compulsive or body dysmorphic disorder with absent insight/delusional beliefs.  In DSM-5, a delusional disorder is no longer separated from a shared delusional disorder.  In theory, the changes in DSM-5 might have gained Martha a more sympathetic diagnosis, one she'd doubtless have celebrated with a drink.

Antinatal

Antinatal (pronounced ant-t- neytl)

A philosophical position that asserts a negative value judgment towards birth.

1968:  The construct is anti- + natal.  Anti is from the Ancient Greek ἀντι- (anti).  Natal is from the Latin nātālis (natal), from nātus, the perfect active participle of nāscor (I am born), derived from the earlier gnāscor, from the Proto-Italic gnāskōr, from the primitive Indo-European ǵenh.  It was cognate with the Ancient Greek γεννάω (gennáō) (to beget).  The first use of antinatal appears to be by Théophile de Giraud (b 1968) in his 2006 book L'art de guillotiner les procréateurs: Manifeste anti-nataliste although forms of anti-natalist thought appear in ancient Greek philosophy, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Manichaeism. It was also espoused by heretical gnostic Christian sects, such as the Bogomils, Cathars, Encratites, and Marcionites.  As an etymological point regarding the play on words, the reference is antenatal (before birth); ante a borrowing from the Latin.  As prefixes, anti- (against) should not be confused with ante- (before) but, anti- does exist as a variant spelling of ante- in some borrowed words, such as anticipate and antipasto, but cannot be used to coin English words.  Antinatal is an adjective and antinatalism & antinatalist are nouns; the noun plural is antinatalists.

Strains

Although nihilists are predictably drawn to antinatalism, it’s not really a fork of nihilism.  Instead, it’s the position that bringing someone into existence will always harm the person created, but failing to bring that person into existence will only deny them pleasures they’ll never know. Therefore, the only guaranteed way to avoid increasing the harm quotient of sentient life is for human procreation to be discontinued as a moral imperative. The inevitable consequence of this would be to hasten the extinction of the human species and within the internal logic of the counter-intuitive formulation that is antinatalism, it’s the only ethical outcome.  There’s also a legal basis suggested, drawn from the traditions of natural law, which holds that giving birth to children is inherently wrong because the child can never consent to being born.

Views do change.  In July 2023, Lindsay Lohan became a mother.

Wedding day: Leonard (1880-1969) & Virginia Woolf (1882-1941), St Pancras, London, 10 August 1912; the couple did not have children.

Philanthropic anti-natalism is the position that humans should not have children for the good of the (unborn) children because, in bringing children in the world, parents are subjecting them to pain, suffering, illness, and finally death.  Virginia Woolf, in Mrs Dalloway (1925) explored the idea through the character of Septimus Warren Smith who said “One cannot bring children into a world like this. One cannot perpetuate suffering, or increase the breed of these lustful animals, who have no lasting emotions, but only whims and vanities, eddying them now this way, now that.”  Of the two main strains of the philosophy, misanthropic anti-natalism is the position that humans have a presumptive duty to desist from bringing into existence new members of our species because they cause harm. Ecological anti-natalism (sometimes called “environmental anti-natalism”) is a subset of this in that it holds procreation is wrong because of the environmental damage caused by human beings and the suffering we inflict on other sentient organisms.  Its structural representative is the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement.

Butyraceous

Butyraceous (pronounced byoo-tuh-rey-shuhs)

Of the nature of, resembling, or containing butter.

1660–1670: A compound word, the construct being the Latin būtȳr(um) + -aceous.  Butyro-, a combining form of Latin būtȳrum (butter) was borrowed from the Ancient Greek βούτῡρον (boútūron) and -aceous was from the New Latin, derived from the Classical Latin -aceus (of a certain kind) and related to –ac & -ax, the Latin adjectival suffixes.  The construct of the Ancient Greek βούτῡρον was βοῦς (boûs) (cow) +‎ τυρός (turós) (cheese).  Synonyms include buttery, waxy, slippery, creamy, oiled, lubricant, lustrous, polished, rich, sleek, smooth, soapy, soothing, swimming, unctuous, adipose, oleaginous, lardy, lubricative & lubricous.

Making fake Sizzler cheese toast

Ingredients

(1) Thick sliced bread.

(2) Butter (room temperature).

(3) Pecorino cheese (shredded or grated).

Instructions

(1) Combine equal amounts of butter with parmesan and mix to create a paste.

(2) Using suitable knife, spread the butter/cheese paste on one side of bread.

(3) Pan-fry the bread paste-side down in frying pan over a medium heat and place a lid or flat plate over bread so it can steam while cooking.  Cook until golden brown and serve.

Notes

Sizzler use Pecorino cheese but toast can be made with Parmesan, the original using shredded cheese but grated or shaved can also be used, the latter able to produce a slightly chunky effect some prefer.

Sizzler has always used only white bread but it works with wholemeal or wholegrain varieties.  The recipe is best in its simple form but garlic powder, dried herbs or small quantities of sliced or grated onion can be added to the mix.  Some recommend beating the butter before adding the cheese.  This doesn’t affect the taste but is said both to reduce the cooking time and produce a toast with a slightly different texture.  Margarine should not be used.

Lindsay Lohan, Butter Nightclub, New York City, 2006.

Unctuous

Unctuous (pronounced uhngk-choo-uhs)

(1) Characterized by excessive piousness or moralistic fervor, especially in an affected manner; excessively smooth, suave, or smug; one who affects an oily charm; profusely polite, especially unpleasantly so and insincerely earnest.

(2) Of the nature of or characteristic of an unguent or ointment; oily; greasy.

(3) In mining, a mineral having an oily or soapy feel.

(4) Of a liquid or substance, oily or greasy.

(5) Of food and beverage (applied typically to wine, coffee, sauce, gravy etc), rich, lush, intense, with layers of concentrated, soft, velvety flavor (a use with a positive association).

1350-1400: From the Middle English, from the Old French unctuous (oily, having a greasy or soapy feeling when touched), from the Medieval Latin ūnctuōsus (oily; greasy) from unctus (act of anointing), from the past participle stem of unguere (to anoint).  The most familiar form appears to have been unctum (ointment). The literal meanings endured for centuries and are still used today in specialist medical and geological texts but the figurative sense of "blandly ingratiating" dates from 1742, perhaps in part with a literal sense, but more in the sarcastic sense drawn from unction in the sense of "deep spiritual feeling" (a meaning in use since the 1690s, the idea of having been anointed in the rite of unction).  Unctuous has also been favored by food critics, comprising the sense of something pleasingly juicy with the more abstract notion of a food which seems “anxious to please”.  The spelling (as an adjective) unctious was used between circa 1600 and the 1720s.  Unctuous is an adjective, unctuousness & unctuosity are nouns, unctuously is an adverb; the  noun plural is unctuosities.  The form "ununctuous" (not unctuous) seems to be used (1) of food or substances and (2) of people usually unctuous not being so (those of the "kiss-up, kick-down" type said to switch between their "unctuous" & "ununctuous" modes depending on the dynamic of the power-relationship).  

Uriah Heep, very ’umble

Literature’s archetype of the unctuous is Charles Dickens' (1812–1870) Uriah Heep from the novel David Copperfield (1849-1850)  Heap is famous for his cloying humility, obsequiousness, insincerity and frequent references to his own "'umbleness"; his name has become synonymous with being a sycophant.  With plenty of time to contemplate the past while serving the twenty year sentence he was lucky to receive for war crimes and crimes against humanity, Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945, recalling a former subordinate,  noted the type in his prison diaries Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries (1975)), musing it was the combination of fawning obedience and dynamism in its functionaries on which totalitarian states depended for their success.

Depiction of Uriah Heep by Frederick Barnard (1846–1896) and former speaker Peter Slipper.

The characteristics of grasping manipulation and insincerity render Uriah Heep a popular label for critics to use against politicians, somthing sometimes fair, sometimes not.  Robert Caro (b 1935) applied it to Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1963-1969), Philip Roth (1933–2018) to Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), Tony Judt (1948-2010) to Philippe Pétain (1856-1951), Paddy McGuinness (1938-2008) to Paul Keating (b 1944; Prime Minister of Australia 1991-1996) and Conrad Russell (1937-2004) to Tony Blair (b 1953; UK prime-minister 1997-2007).

Some years ago, in Australia, many were taken by the resemblance of former Speaker of the House of Representatives, Peter Slipper (b 1950), to depictions of the Dickens character.  Since leaving parliament, Mr Slipper has been ordained Bishop of Australia by the Brazilian Catholic Apostolic Church (Igreja Católica Apostólica Brasileira (ICAB)), the latest appointment in his ecclesiastical career.  Mr Slipper qualified as a lawyer and as far as is known he has never received any formal theological training but in 2008 he was ordained as a priest of the Anglican Catholic Church in Australia, a part of the Traditional Anglican Communion (TAC) one of a number of schismatic forks of the Anglican communion which emerged after the 1968 Lambeth Conference when issues to do with sex first began to dominate the church.  Later, he would become chancellor (and subsequently vicar-general) of the Church of Torres Strait (CTS) another member of the TAC.  The final step in his denomination journey seems to date from 2016 when, in Brazil, he was ordained as a deacon and priest of the ICAB.  In 2018, Bishop Slipper was accredited by the Department of Foreign Affairs & Trade (DFAT) as Brazil’s honorary consul in the state of Tasmania.

The original gatefold sleeve for the Uriah Heep album ...Very 'Eavy ...Very 'Umble  (1970).

Formed in 1969, Uriah Heep was one of a number of English rock bands of the era which produced the templates which would come to define genres like “heavy metal” and “hard rock”.  Their contemporaries included Black Sabbath, Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin but unlike them, Uriah Heep gained little critical acceptance, many reviews often in the vein of Rod Stewart’s (b 1945) critique of Grand Funk Railroad (in many ways their US counterpart): “Loud white noise”.  Despite that, more than fifty years on, Uriah Heep remain active, releasing material and still performing live.  Few would describe their sound being any way unctuous.