Doomsday

Doomsday (pronounced doomz-dey)

(1) In Christian eschatology, the day of the Last Judgment, at the end of the world (sometimes capital letter); the end of days; the end of times.

(2) Any day of judgment or sentence (sometimes initial capital).

(3) In casual use, the destruction of the world, since the 1950s, by means of nuclear weapons.

(4) As doomsday weapon(s), the device(s) causing the destruction of the world; anything capable of causing widespread or total destruction.

(5) Given to or marked by forebodings or predictions of impending calamity; especially concerned with or predicting future universal destruction.

(6) As Doomsday Clock, a symbolic warning device indicating how close humanity is to destroying the world, run since 1947 as a private venture by the members of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists.

Pre 1000: A compound from the Middle English domes + dai from the Old English construct dom (judgment) + dæg (day), dōmesdæg (sometimes dōmes dæg) (Judgment Day) and related to the Old Norse domsdagr.  Dome was borrowed from the Middle French dome & domme (which survives in Modern French as dôme), from the Italian duomo, from the Latin domus (ecclesiae) (literally “house (of the church)”), a calque of the Ancient Greek οἶκος τῆς ἐκκλησίας (oîkos tês ekklēsías); doublet of domus.  Dom was from the Proto-West Germanic dōm and was cognate with the Old Frisian dōm, the Old Saxon dōm, the Old High German tuom, the Old Norse dómr and the Gothic dōms.  The Germanic source was from a stem verb originally meaning “to place, to set”, a sense-development also found in the Latin statutum and the Ancient Greek θέμις (thémis).  Dai had the alternative forms deg, deag & dœg all from the Proto-West Germanic dag; it was cognate with the Old Frisian dei, the Old Saxon dag, the Old Dutch dag, the Old High German tag, the Old Norse dagr and the Gothic dags.

In medieval England, doomsday was expected when the world's age had reached 6,000 years from the creation, thought to have been in 5200 BC and English Benedictine monk, the Venerable Bede (circa 672-735) complained of being pestered by rustici (the "uneducated and coarse-mannered, rough of speech"), asking him "how many years till the sixth millennium be endeth?"  However, despite the assertions (circa 1999) of the Y2K doomsday preppers, there is no evidence to support the story of a general panic in Christian Europe in the days approaching the years 800 or 1000 AD.  The use to describe a hypothetical nuclear bomb powerful enough to wipe out human life (or all life) on earth is from 1960 but the speculation was the work of others than physicists and the general trend since the 1960s has been towards smaller devices although paradoxically, this has been to maximize the destructive potential through an avoidance of the "surplus ballistic effect" (ie the realization by military planners that blasting rubble into to smaller-sized rocks was "wasted effort and bad economics").

The Domesday Book

Domesday is a proper noun that is used to describe the documents known collectively as the Domesday Book, at the time an enormous survey (a kind of early census) ordered by William I (circa 1028-1087; styled usually as William the Conqueror, King of England 1066-1087) in 1085.  The survey enumerated all the wealth in England and determined ownership in order to assess taxes.  Domesday was the Middle English spelling of doomsday, and is pronounced as doomsday.

Original Domesday book, UK National Archives, London.

The name Domesday Book (which was Doomsday in earlier spellings) was first recorded almost a century after 1086.  An addition to the manuscript was made probably circa 1114-1119 when it was known as the Book of Winchester and between then and 1179, it acquired the name by which it has since been known.  Just to clarify its status, the Treasurer of England himself announced “This book is called by the native English Domesday, that is Day of Judgement” (Dialogus de scaccario), adding that, like the Biblical Last Judgment, the decisions of Domesday Book were unalterable because “… as from the Last Judgment, there is no further appeal.”  This point was reinforced by a clause in the Dialogue of the Exchequer (1179) which noted “just as the sentence of that strict and terrible Last Judgement cannot be evaded by any art or subterfuge, so, when a dispute arises in this realm concerning facts which are written down, and an appeal is made to the book itself, the evidence it gives cannot be set at nought or evaded with impunity.”  It was from this point that began in England the idea of the centralised written record taking precedence over local oral traditions, the same concept which would evolve as the common law.

The Doomsday Book described in remarkable detail the landholdings and resources of late eleventh century England and is illustrative of both the power of the government machine by the late medieval period and its deep thirst for information.  Nothing on the scale of the survey had been undertaken in contemporary Europe, and was not matched in comprehensiveness until the population censuses of the nineteenth century although, Doomsday is not a full population census, the names appearing almost wholly restricted to landowners who could thus be taxed.  It was for centuries used for administrative and legal purposes and remains often the starting point for many purposes for historians but of late has been subject to an increasingly detailed textual analysis and it’s certainly not error-free.

The Doomsday Clock

The Doomsday Clock is a symbol that represents the likelihood of a man-made global catastrophe.  Maintained since 1947 by the members of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists (BOTAS), the clock was created as a metaphor for threat to humanity posed by nuclear weapons.  On the clock, a hypothetical global catastrophe is represented as the stroke of midnight and BOTAS’s view of the closeness to that hour being reached by the number of minutes or seconds to midnight.  Every January, BOTAS’s Science and Security Board committee meets to decide where the second-hand of the clock should point and in recent years, other risk factors have been considered, including disease and climate change, the committee monitoring developments in science and technology that could inflict catastrophic damage.

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

These concerns do have a long history in philosophy and theology but the use in 1945 of nuclear fission to create atomic weapons focused the minds of many more on the possibilities, the concerns growing in the second half of the twentieth century as the bombs got bigger and proliferated extraordinarily to the point where, if all were detonated in the right place at the right time, almost everyone on Earth would have been killed several times over.  At least on paper, the threat was real and even before Hiroshima made the world suddenly aware of the matter, there had been some in apocalyptic mood: Winston Churchill's (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) “finest hour” speech in 1940 warning of the risk civilization might “…sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science”.  It had been a growing theme in liberal interwar politics since the implications of technology and the industrialisation of warfare had been writ large by the World War I (1914-1918).

HG Wells’ (1866–1946) last book was Mind at the End of its Tether (1945), a slim volume, best remembered for the fragment “…everything was driving anyhow to anywhere at a steadily increasing velocity”, seemingly describing a world which had become more complicated, chaotic and terrifying than anything he had prophesized in his fiction. In this it’s often contrasted with the spirit of cheerful optimism and forward-looking stoicism of the book he published a few months earlier, The Happy Turning (1945), but that may be a misreading.  Mind at the End of its Tether is a curious text, easy to read yet difficult to reduce to a theme; in his review, George Orwell (1903-1950) called it “disjointed” and it does have a quality of vagueness, some chapters hinting at despair for all humanity, others suggesting hope for the future.  It’s perhaps the publication date that tints the opinions of some.  Although released some three months after the first use of atomic bombs in August 1945, publishing has lead-times and Wells hadn’t heard of the A-bomb at the time of writing although, he had in 1914 predicted such a device in The World Set Free.  In writing Mind at the End of its Tether, Wells, the great seer of science, wasn’t in dark despair at news of science’s greatest achievement, nuclear fission, but instead a dying man disappointed about the terrible twentieth century which, at the end of the nineteenth, had offered such promise.

In 1947, though the USSR had still not even tested an atomic bomb and the US enjoyed exclusive possession of the weapon, BOTAS was well aware it was only a matter of time and the clock was set at seven minutes to midnight.  Adjustments have been made a couple of dozen times since, the most optimistic days being in 1991 with the end of the Cold War when it was seventeen minutes to midnight and the most ominous right now, BOTAS in 2023 choosing 90 seconds, ten seconds worse than the 100 settled on in 2020.

The committee each year issues an explanatory note and in 2021 noted the influences on their decision.  The COVID-19 pandemic was a factor, not because it threatened to obliterate civilization but because it “…revealed just how unprepared and unwilling countries and the international system are to handle global emergencies properly. In this time of genuine crisis, governments too often abdicated responsibility, ignored scientific advice, did not cooperate or communicate effectively, and consequently failed to protect the health and welfare of their citizens.  As a result, many hundreds of thousands of human beings died needlessly”.  COVID-19 they noted, will eventually recede but the pandemic, as it unfolded, was “a vivid illustration that national governments and international organizations are unprepared to manage nuclear weapons and climate change, which currently pose existential threats to humanity, or the other dangers—including more virulent pandemics and next-generation warfare—that could threaten civilization in the near future”.  In 2023, the adjustment was attributed mostly to (1) the increased risk of the use of nuclear weapons after the Russian invasion of Ukraine, (2) climate change, (3) biological threats such as COVID-19 and (4) the spread of disinformation through disruptive technology such as generative AI (artificial intelligence).

The acceleration of nuclear weapons programs by many countries was thought to have increased instability, especially in conjunction with the simultaneous development of delivery systems increasingly adaptable to the use of conventional or nuclear warheads.  The concern was expressed this “may raise the probability of miscalculation in times of tension”.  Governments were considered to have “…failed sufficiently to address climate change” and that while “fossil fuel use needs to decline precipitously if the worst effects of climate change are to be avoided”, instead “…fossil fuel development and production are projected to increase”.  Political factors were also mentioned including the corrosive effects of “false and misleading information disseminated over the internet…, a wanton disregard for science and the large-scale embrace” of conspiracy theories often “driven by political figures”.  They did offer a glimmer of hope, notably the change of administration in the US to one with a more aggressive approach to climate change policy and a renewed commitment to nuclear arms control agreements but it wasn’t enough to convince them to move the hands of the clock.  It remains a hundred seconds to midnight.

The clock is not without critics, even the Wall Street Journal (WSJ) expressing disapproval since falling under the control of Rupert Murdoch (b 1931).  There is the argument that after seventy years, its usefulness has diminished because over those decades it has become "the boy who cried wolf": a depiction of humanity on the precipice of the abyss yet life went on.  Questions have also been raised about the narrowness of the committee and whether a body which historically has had a narrow focus on atomic weapons and security is adequately qualified to assess the range of issues which should be considered.  Mission creep too is seen as a problem.  The clock began as a means of expressing the imminence of nuclear war.  Is it appropriate to use the same mechanism to warn of impending climate change which has anyway already begun and is likely accelerating?  Global thermo-nuclear war can cause a catastrophic loss of life and societal disruption within hours, whereas the climate catastrophe is projected to unfolds over decades and centuries.  Would a companion calendar be a more helpful metaphor?  The criticism may miss the point, the clock not being a track of climate change but of political will to do something to limit and ameliorate the effects (everyone having realised it can’t be stopped).

Understate

Understate (pronounced uhn-der-steyt)

(1) In speech or writing, a statement ostensibly less in strength than the author actually intends to convey.

(2) In design (architecture, fashion etc), a kind of shorthand for stark minimalism, the pared down look with which elegance is most easily attained.

1799: The construct was under + state.  The related “understated” used to discuss matter of style, appears not to have been used before 1957.  Under is pre-900 Middle English, from the Old English.  It was cognate with the Dutch onder, the German unter, the Sanskrit अधर (ádhara), the Old Norse undir & the Latin inferus.  The sense of under in the Latin inferus is fun.  It’s from the Proto-Italic enðeros, from the primitive Indo-European hindher and meant (1) in the masculine plural “the souls of the dead” and (2) in the neuter plural “the netherworld; the underworld; Hell”.  Its other linkage is to the modern “inferior”, another sense of “under”.  Under was productive as a prefix in Old English, as were the similar forms in German and Scandinavian, sued often to form words modeled on Latin.  The notion of "inferior in rank, position etc" existed as well as the spatial in Old English, reference to standards (less than this, that and the other) dates from the late fourteenth century.  State as the verb referring to speech dates from the 1590s in the sense of "to set in a position" and is derived from the earlier noun use.  The idea of "declaring in words" was first attested in the 1640s, from the notion of "placing" something on the record.

Emperor Hirohito of Japan, 1933.

The English upper classes have a long tradition of understatement; it was never unexpected to hear some grandee refer to his forty-room country house as “the cottage” but for sheer scale, few can match Emperor Hirohito (1901-1989; Emperor (昭和天皇 (Shōwa-tennō) of Japan 1926-1989).   Having endured hearing a long succession of bad news about the state of Japanese military affairs, he learned of the defeat of his axis partner, Nazi Germany and then, the use of nuclear weapons against the cities Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  Unlike some of the generals, admirals and politicians advising him, the emperor accepted the inevitable and on 14 August 1945, delivered a speech effectively accepting the terms of the Potsdam Declaration, the Allies' demand of unconditional surrender (although the Japanese condition of retaining the emperor on his throne tacitly was accepted).  Considering two atomic bombs had just been dropped on his country, the air force and navy had been neutralized and the Japanese islands were being blockaded, the emperor's speech contained what probably was the most memorable understatement of the war:  “…the war situation has developed not necessarily to Japan's advantage...”

Lindsay Lohan at The White Party, Linz, Austria, July 2014, the Grecian inspired gown with spaghetti straps by Calvin Klein, the shoes, Christian Louboutin Aurora Boreale platforms.  This was the best angle for the photographer to choose; viewed from a more oblique angle, the sense of restraint faded.  

In fashion, to achieve a look of understated elegance, the most obvious path to follow is one of stark minimalism.  As in architecture it’s not impossible to achieve the look with decorative flourishes but it’s harder.  Designers suggest neutral colors such as beige, grey, khaki, camel, oatmeal, tan, sand, biscuit, cream, ivory, ecru and mushroom with simple cuts, tailored to avoid anything too close-fitting, paired with either few accessories or, if it’s big, just one; less is more.

Xanadau

Xanadu (pronounced zan-a-du)

Also known as Shangdu, Xanadu was the capital of Kublai Khan's (1215-1294) Yuan dynasty (1271-1368) in China, before he decided to move his throne to the Jin dynasty (1115-1234) capital of Zhōngdū (middle capital), which he renamed Khanbaliq, later known in the West as Peking and of late, Beijing.  Xanadu then became his summer capital.  Xanadu was visited by the Venetian merchant Marco Polo (circa 1254–1324) in about 1275, and was destroyed in 1369 by the Ming army under Zhu Yuanzhang (1328-1398).

Relic site of Xanadu.  Xanadu was located in what is now called Inner Mongolia, 220 miles (350 km) north of what is no the city of Beijing (Peking).  Today, only ruins remain, surrounded by a grassy mound that was once the city walls. Since 2002, restoration work has been undertaken and in June 2012, Shangdu was made a World Heritage Site.

Kubla Khan (1797) by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced;
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves:
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 't would win me
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

By his own account, Samuel Taylor Coleridge was reading about Shangdu while taking laudanum, an opium based medicine.  It led to an opium-induced dream, during which he composed some three-hundred lines of verse.  As soon as he awoke, he wrote down the first fifty but unfortunately, was then interrupted by “a man on business from [the local Somerset village of] Porlock.”   Once the business was concluded, Coleridge found the distraction had driven from his mind the rest of the poem.  All find Coleridge’s story charming but scholars doubt it’s true, the poet having used a similar excuse years before.  Most think it a case of writer’s block.

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

Tumult

Tumult (pronounced too-muhlt or tyoo-muhlt)

(1) Violent and noisy commotion or disturbance of a crowd or mob; uproar.

(2) A general outbreak, riot, uprising, or other disorder.

(3) Highly distressing agitation of mind or feeling; turbulent mental or emotional disturbance.

1375–1425: From the late Middle English tumult(e), from the twelfth century Old French tumult from the Latin tumultus (an uproar; commotion; bustle; uproar; disorder; disturbance), akin to tumēre to (to be excited; to swell), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European root teuə - (& teu) (to swell).  Teuə- was a productive root, forming all or part of: butter; contumely; creosote; intumescence; intumescent; protuberance; protuberant; psychosomatic; -some; soteriology; thigh; thimble; thousand; thole; thumb; tumescent; tumid; tumor; truffle; tuber; tuberculosis; tumult & tyrosine.  It’s the hypothetical source of (and certainly evidence for its existence is provided by): the Avestan tuma (fat), the Ancient Greek tylos (callus, lump); the Latin tumere (to swell), tumidus (swollen) & tumor (a swelling); the Lithuanian tukti (to become fat), the Old Church Slavonic & Russian tuku (fat of animals) and the Old Irish ton (rump).  Tumult is a noun & verb, tumultuate, tumultuating & tumultuated are verbs tumultuously is an adverb and tumultuous is an adjective; the noun plural is tumults.  

Nothing good ever came from the DLP:  One of tumult’s few linguistic niches is the phrase “the tumult & the shouting”, clearly a favorite of publishers given the number of books enjoying the title.  One was the 1977 political memoir of Frank McManus (1905–1983), an Australian senator who was briefly leader of the DLP (Democratic Labor Party) in the dying days of its first and longest incarnation.  While of no great literary merit, it’s a kind of apologia with an entertaining mix of satisfaction at a job well-done, occasional regrets and vicious character assassination, capturing vividly the hatreds which for a generation or more poisoned the Victorian branch of the ALP (Australian Labor Party) following the 1955 split.

Tumult is an example of a word in English where the root has become rare but a derived form remains in common use, the adjective tumultuous more frequently seen (tumultuous noted first in English in the 1540s).  It’s was a borrowing from the Middle French tumultuous (tumultueux in Modern French), from the Latin tumultuosus (full of bustle or confusion, disorderly, turbulent), from tumultus which also provided tumult. Like tumult, the adverb tumultuously and the noun tumultuousness are less common.

Headline writers, whether in print or on-line, famously are fond of alliterations and puns, preferably combined.  It's also one of the few aspects of journalism in which clichés seem to be tolerated and even celebrated.  The breed also has favorite words and one is "tumultuous".  While there are many words which (depending on context), can convey much the same meaning including boisterous, hectic, raucous, histrionic, riotous, stormy, turbulent, violent, agitated, clamorous, disorderly, disorder, disturbed, excited, noisy, obstreperous, passionate, rambunctious, restless, rowdy, turmoil, maelstrom, upheaval, riot, agitation, commotion, pandemonium, strife, rumbustious, termagant, unruly, uproarious, vociferous affray, racket, revolt, revolution, mutiny, unrest, disturbance, hassle, fracas, ferment, turbulence, outcry, convulsion, quarrel & perturbation & vicissitudinous, none work quite as well to encapsulate feeling the and some are not words as widely understood.

For some lives, the only adequate adjective is tumultuous (although "stormy" must have been tempting for some of those writing of Mr Trump.

Doom

Doom (pronounced doom)

(1) Fate or destiny, especially adverse fate; unavoidable ill fortune.

(2) Ruin; death.

(3) A judgment, decision, or sentence, especially an unfavorable one.

(4) In Christian eschatology, the Last Judgment, at the end of days.

Pre 900: From the Middle English dome & doome from the Old English dōm (a law, statute, decree; administration of justice, judgment; justice, equity, righteousness; condemnation) from the Proto-Germanic domaz (source also of the Old Saxon and Old Frisian dom, the Old Norse domr, the Old High German tuom (judgment, decree), the Gothic doms (discernment, distinction), possibly from the primitive Indo-European root dhe- (to set, place, put, do), (source also of the Sanskrit dhā́man (custom or law), the Greek themis (law) and the Lithuanian domė (attention)).  It was with the Old Norse dōmr (judgement), the Old High German tuom (condition) and the Gothic dōms (sentence).  A book of laws in Old English was a dombec.

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

In all its original forms, it seems to have been used in a neutral sense but sometimes also "a decision determining fate or fortune, irrevocable destiny."  The Modern adverse sense of "fate, ruin, destruction" began in the early fourteenth century and evolved into its general sense after circa 1600, influenced by doomsday and the finality of the Christian Judgment. The "crack of doom" is the last trump, the signal for the dissolution of all things and the finality of the Christian Judgment Day, is most memorably evoked in the Old Testament, in Ezekiel 7:7-8.

(7) Doom has come upon you, upon you who dwell in the land. The time has come! The day is near! There is panic, not joy, on the mountains.

(8) I am about to pour out my wrath on you and spend my anger against you. I will judge you according to your conduct and repay you for all your detestable practices.

Doom Paintings

Doom paintings are the vivid depictions of the Last Judgment, that moment in Christian eschatology when Christ judges souls and send them either to Heaven or Hell.  They became popular in medieval English churches as a form of graphical advertising to an often illiterate congregation, dramatizing the difference between rapture of heaven and the agonies of hell, consequences of a life of virtue or wickedness.  During the English Reformation, many doom paintings were destroyed, thought by the new order rather too lavishly Romish.

Weltgericht (Last Judgement) (circa 1435)); Tempera on oak triptych by German artist Stefan Lochner (c1410–1451).

Decimate

Decimate (pronounced des-uh-meyt)

(1) To destroy a great number or proportion of; to devastate, to reduce or destroy significantly but not completely (modern use).

(2) To select by lot and kill every tenth person (obsolete except for historic references).

(3) To take a tenth of or from (obsolete except for historic references).

(4) In computer graphics processing, to replace something rendered in high-resolution with something of lower but still acceptable quality.

(5) To exact a tithe or other 10% tax (almost archaic except in the internal rules of some religions).

1590–1600: From the Latin decimātus (tithing area; tithing rights), past participle of decimāre (to punish every tenth man chosen by lot) a verbal derivative of decimus (tenth), a derivative of decem (ten) and decimo (take a tenth), from the primitive Indo-European root dekm (ten).  The related nouns are decimation & decimator, the verbs (used with object) are decimated & decimating.  The most commonly used synonyms now are: wipe out, obliterate, annihilate, slaughter, exterminate, execute, massacre, butcher, stamp out & kill off

Decimate is interesting as an example of two linguistic phenomena.

(1) It’s a foreign word (Latin) which has become part of the English language.  This happens a lot (eg fuselage) because English is a vacuum-cleaner language which sucks in whatever is needed but it’s not universal and there’s no precise rule which decides what become assimilated and what, however frequently used, remains foreign: zeitgeist (spirit of the age) although now common in English, remains German.

(2) It’s a contranym, a word which in modern use, now means the opposite of its classical origins.  In Roman times, it meant to reduce by 10%; now it’s probably understood to reduce to, if not 10% then a least by a large portion.  This is a genuine meaning shift and, except in precise historic references (and then probably foot-noted), the new meaning is now correct.  Decimate thus differs from a word like enormity; if used (as it sometimes is) to mean enormous that’s not an error because by virtue of use, that meaning has been absorbed into the language as a concurrent use with the original.  By contrast, decimate has suffered a meaning shift.

The killing of one in ten, chosen by lots, from a rebellious city or a mutinous army was a punishment sometimes used by the Romans and there have been many instances of it (expressed usually as collective punishment) since, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) explicitly referring to the Roman tradition when in 1934 explaining why there had been so many (retrospectively authorized) executions during the suppression of the so-called "Röhm putsch" (the Führer's actions now sometimes (generously) described as a pre-emptive or preventative strike).  The word has been (loosely and un-etymologically) used since as early as the 1660s to mean "destroy a large but indefinite number of."  This is one of those things which really annoys pedants but given it’s been happening since the seventeenth century, it may be time for them to admit defeat.  Were the word now to be used to convey its original meaning, the result would probably be only confusion.  One point in use which is important is that one should speak of the whole of something being decimated, not a part (eg a plague decimated the population, not disease decimated most of the population).  Decimate remains well-known because is well known because it’s lived on in Modern English, albeit with quite some mission-creep in meaning but the Romans had many other expressions defining the precise proportionality of a reduction by single aliquot part including: tertiate (⅓), quintate (⅕), sextate (⅙), septimate (⅐), duodecimate (¹⁄₁₂) and centesimate (¹⁄₁₀₀).

Smaller but not decimated: Lindsay Lohan full-sized (left), reduced by 10% (centre) & reduced by 90% (right).

However, although most probably now understood what is meant by decimate even if they're unaware of the word's origin, it should still be use with some care.  Sir Ernest Gowers (1880–1966) in his revision (1965) of Henry Fowler's  (1858–1933) A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) objected to the "virtual extermination" of rabbits by the agent of the myxomatosis virus being described as a decimation because, with a reported death rate of 99.8%, it was something notably more severe than modern understanding of the word let alone that of a Roman.  In the way of such things the rabbits anyway staged a revival as natural selection did its thing.  Fowler's guide also cautioned that any use "expressly inconsistent with the proper sense... must be avoided", citing "A single frost night decimated the currants by as much as 80%".  The point is taken but that sentence does seem helpfully informative.  Nor are all acts of reduction of necessity instances of decimation; there has to be something destructive about the process.  A photograph can be reduced in size by a Roman 10% or a modern 90% but one wouldn't suggest it has been decimated; it has just be rendered smaller.

Twilight

Twilight (pronounced twahy-lahyt)

(1) The soft, diffused light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon, either from daybreak to sunrise or, more commonly, from sunset to nightfall.

(2) The period in the morning or, more commonly, in the evening during which this light prevails.

(3) A terminal period, especially after full development, success, etc.

(4) A state of uncertainty, vagueness, or gloom.

(5) Of or relating to, or resembling twilight; dim; obscure:

(6) Appearing or flying at twilight; crepuscular.

(7) The period of time during which the sun is a specified angular distance below the horizon (6°, 12° and 18° for civil twilight, nautical twilight, and astronomical twilight respectively)

1375-1425: From the Middle English twyelyghte (twilight) from the Old English twēonelēoht (twilight), the construct being twi (double, half) +‎ light, literally “second light, half-light”.  Light was from the Middle English light, liht & leoht, from the Old English lēoht, from the Proto-West Germanic leuht, from the Proto-Germanic leuhtą, from the primitive Indo-European lewktom, from the root lewk- (light).  It was cognate with the Scots licht (light), the West Frisian ljocht (light), the Dutch licht (light), the Low German licht (light) and the German Licht (light).  It was related also to the Swedish ljus (light), the Icelandic ljós (light), the Latin lūx (light), the Russian луч (luč) (beam of light), the Armenian լույս (luys) (light), the Ancient Greek λευκός (leukós) (white) and the Persian رُخش‎ (roxš).  It was cognate with the Scots twa licht, twylicht & twielicht (twilight), the Low German twilecht & twelecht (twilight), the Dutch tweelicht (twilight, dusk) and the German zwielicht (twilight, dusk).  The exact connotation of twi- in this word remains unclear but most etymologists link it to "half" light, rather than the fact that twilight occurs twice a day.  In that twilight may be compared with the Sanskrit samdhya (twilight, literally "a holding together, junction") and the Middle High German zwischerliecht (literally "tweenlight").

Enjoying the crepuscular: Lindsay Lohan at twilight.

The meaning "light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon at morning and evening" dates from the late fourteenth century, used often in the form "twilighting").  It was used originally (and most commonly) in English with reference to evening twilight but occasionally, beginning in the fifteenth century, referred also to the light of dawn.  The figurative extension dates from circa 1600.  The "twilight zone" is from 1901 (in a literal sense of the part of the sky lit by twilight), the use extended after from 1909 to refer to topics or cases where authority or behavior is unclear, the origin of that probably the 1909 novel In the Twilight Zone by Roger Carey Craven, the reference is to the mulatto heritage of one character, the idea of what used to be called the "half-breed", one who might be equally be claimed or disowned by either race.  The name was re-used in 2016 by Nona Fernández (b1971) (translated into English by Natasha Wimmer (b 1973)) in a novel about Chile under the dictatorship (1973-1990) of General Augusto Pinochet (1915–2006).  The US TV series of that name is from 1959.  The connotation of “twi” in this context is uncertain with most etymologists concluding it appears to refer to "half" light, rather than the state of twilight which occurs twice a day although in Sanskrit samdhya (twilight) was literally "a holding together” or “junction”, a formation known also in the Middle High German zwischerliecht, literally "tweenlight".  Twilight today is most commonly used with its original meaning of the evening light but from the mid-fifteenth century to the mid-twentieth, it was used also to refer to the morning twilight.  The figurative extension is first recorded circa 1600.

Götterdämmerung

Richard Wagner (1865) by August Friedrich Pecht (1814–1903), oil on canvas, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Ney York.

Götterdämmerung (Twilight of the Gods), is the fourth and final part of Richard Wagner's (1813-1883) Der Ring des Nibelungen (The Ring of the Nibelung, usually known as The Ring or Ring Cycle).  Lasting some fifteen hours and usually presented over several days, its debut performance was at the Bayreuth Festival on 17 August 1876.

A great set piece drama and the grandest moment in Opera, the Ring Cycle is about the destruction of the gods and in a final battle with evil powers and although based on an old Norse myth, a dubious translation of the Old Icelandic Ragnarǫk (fate of the gods) meant it entered Modern German as Ragnarökkr (twilight of the gods).  In the Norse, the story was of "ancestral voices prophesying war" between mortals and the gods, a conflict ending in flames and flood but leading finally to the renewal of the world.  Wagner's work differs much from the Old Norse.

Part 1: Das Rheingold (Rhinegold)

The Rig Cycle begins with the dwarf Alberich seizing the gold of the Rhinemaidens. Alberich denounces love to gain possession of the magic ring which gives its wearer ultimate power; the ring is the world’s most desired object.  Rhinegold is the story of the gods; one learns of the suffering of Wotan and the problems the gods have in repaying Fafner and Fasolt, the giants who built Valhalla.

Part 2: Die Walkure (The Valkyries)

Brunnhilde and her father Wotan struggle with their pride to decide the ultimate destiny of mortals, the Valkyries being about the deep, tortured relationship between gods and mortals.  The gods also war with each-other but nobleness, especially in love, prevails over the oaths and the divine promises of the gods. Siegmund, the mortal hero, dies because his father, Wotan, is obliged to obey his wife, Fricka.

Part 3: Siegfried

This is the story of the hero, Siegfried, how he grows to manhood, how he discovers love and loss.  Raised by the Nibelung Mime, Siegfried is young, innocent and fearless and with help from a mysterious wanderer (Wotan in disguise), Siegfried finds the pieces of his father's sword.  Notung reforges the blade and Siegfried kills the dragon Fafner who guards the hoard of Nibelung gold stolen from the Rhinemaidens, taking possession of Alberich's cursed ring.  Siegfried is then drawn to follow a birdsong to find the sleeping Brunnhilde whom fate has destined him to awaken and fall in love with.  Waking her, Siegfried gives the ring to Brunnhilde to symbolize his oath of undying love and fidelity.

Part 4: Götterdämmerung (Twilight of the Gods)

Under an ambiance impending doom, all face the consequences of their choices; the Nibelung Alberich's curse upon the Ring proving prophetic for whoever holds the ring is ultimately destroyed.  Although Wotan's disempowerment was, in part three, foreshadowed by Siegfried breaking his spear, the doomed fate of the gods is sealed when Alberich's evil son, Hagen dupes and cruelly murders the brave mortal hero Siegfried.  Devastated, Brünnhilde has a huge funeral pyre built by the river, takes the ring and tells the Rhinemaidens to claim it from her ashes.  Brünnhilde then mounts her horse and rides into the flames.  As she burns, the Rhine overflows, quenching the fire and the Rhinemaidens swim in to claim the ring.  Hagen tries to stop them but they drag him to his death in the depths.  As they celebrate the return of the ring and its gold to the river, a red glow fills the sky for Valhalla, the last resting place of the gods is ablaze and the gods are consumed by the flames.

Sedulous

Sedulous (pronounced sej-uh-luhs)

(1) Of a person: diligent in application or pursuit or attention; constant and persevering; steadily industrious; assiduous.

(2) Of an activity: carried out with diligence.

(3) Persistently or carefully maintained.

1530–1540: From the Latin sēdulus (diligent, industrious, sedulous; solicitous; unremitting; zealous), an adjectival derivative of the phrase sē dolō (diligently (literally “without guile”) which replaced sedulious.  The origin of sēdulus is murky but it was probably from sēdulō (diligently; carefully; purposely; zealously) and the construct may have been sē- (the prefix meaning “without”) + dolō (singular of dolus (deceit, deception; evil intent, malice (and cognate with the Ancient Greek dolus (ruse; snare), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European del- (to count, reckon) + -us (the suffix forming adjectives).  In English the form was created with the suffix –ous.  The –ous suffix was from the Middle English -ous, from the Old French –ous & -eux, from the Latin -ōsus (full, full of); a doublet of -ose in an unstressed position.  It was used to form adjectives from nouns, to denote possession or presence of a quality in any degree, commonly in abundance.  In chemistry, it has a specific technical application, used in the nomenclature to name chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a lower oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ic.  For example sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  The noun sedulity (diligent and assiduous application, constant attention) sates from 1542.  The synonyms include diligent & assiduous and words which hint at the meaning include constant, untiring & tireless.  Sedulous is an adjective, sedulousness & sedulity are nouns and sedulously is an adverb.

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

Because of the variations in spelling in Medieval Latin, scholars have debated whether the correct form is sedeō or sē dolō, those of the former citing assiduus, some of the latter insisting even that the construct can only be sē dolus.  It carries the whiff of linguistic snobbery.  Medieval Latin (perhaps better understood by an alternative descriptor: Church Latin), never universally adopted the forms or rules of Classical Latin and within Europe, variations in form were common.

Carp

Carp (pronounced kahrp)

(1) To find fault or complain querulously or unreasonably; be niggling in criticizing; cavil.

(2) A peevish complaint; to find fault with; to censure; to complain about a fault.

(3) A large, freshwater teleost (of, or relating to the Teleostei (fish with bony skeletons)) food fish of the family Cyprinidae (Cyprinus carpio), characterized by a body covered with cycloid scales, a naked head, one long dorsal fin, and two barbels on each side of the mouth.  It was native to Asia but was widely introduced in tropical and temperate waters; an important food fish in many countries and an introduced invasive pest in others.  There is one .cyprinid genus which tolerates salt water although many at times inhabit brackish water.

(4) Any of various other fishes of the family Cyprinidae; a cyprinid.

(5) In botany, a combining form occurring in compounds that denote a part of a fruit or fruiting body (best known in the form endocarp (the woody inner layer of the pericarp of some fruits that contains the seed).

(6) To say; to tell (obsolete).

1200-1250:  From the Middle English carpen (talk; to speak, to tell (someone something)), from the Old Norse karpa (to brag, wrangle) & karp (bragging) of unknown origin but linked to the Vulgar Latin carpere because of the meaning shift to “find fault with”, under the influence of the Latin carpō.  By the late fourteenth century, the sense had been further refined to mean “complain excessively about minor faults, often petulantly or without reason.  The Latin carpere (literally “to pluck” was used to convey the idea of "to slander or revile”), from the primitive Indo-European root kerp- (to gather, pluck, harvest).  The original sense in English (talk; to speak, to tell (someone something)) was between the mid-fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries maintained in the noun carper (talker), an agent noun from the carp; the modern sense of “a fault-finder” began to prevail from the 1570s.  Thus carping, which in the late thirteenth century was recorded as meaning “talk, speech; talkativeness, foolish talk” and was a verbal noun from the verb also by the 1570s came to be used to impart the idea of “unreasonable criticism or censure”.  The botanical use was from the New Latin -carpium, from the Greek -karpion, a derivative of karpós (fruit).

Among critics, there are clappers and carpers.

The name of the fish was from the late fourteenth century Middle English carpe, via the Old French carpa (the source also of the Italian & Spanish carpa), from either the Middle Dutch or the Middle Low German karpe and cognate with the Old High German karpfo, the Middle Dutch carpe, the Dutch karper, the Old High German karpfo & the German Karpfen (carp).  Although documentary evidence is lacking, some etymologists suggest the origin may be East Germanic (perhaps the unrecorded Gothic karpa) because the fish was in the fourteenth century introduced into English waterways from the Danube.  The Lithuanian karpis and the Russian karp are Germanic loan words but the most attractive name for the fish is doubtlessly the Japanese koi, first noted in 1727.  The ubiquitous goldfish is a type of carp and was introduced to Europe from China where it was native, their natural dull olive skins rendered by selective breeding into silver, red & black as well as the familiar orange.  The phrase “living in a goldfish bowl” dates from 1935 and was used figuratively to suggest a “lack of privacy”, based on the circular bowls in which the domestic pet fish were often kept, affording all a 360^o view of their activities.  The use of the noun gallimaufry (a medley, hash, hodge-podge) to describe various recipes of carp stews is mysterious but presumably related to the many other ingredients included to make the dish more palatable, the freshwater carp not highly regarded compared to the alternatives.  Carp convey a specific sense of the way a criticism is delivered and is subtly different from words like deprecate, condemn, censure, grumble, quibble, complain, criticize or reproach is that it’s held to be something nit-picking or pedantic.  Carp & carper are nouns; carped is a verb and carping is a verb, adjective & noun; the noun plural is carps although, of the fish, carp tends to be used when speaking collectively except when it’s regarding two or more species in which case it’s carps.

In some Australian waterways, carp have become a notable environmental threat, crowding out native species and adversely affecting water-quality because of their mud-sucking ways, causing erosion and killing of trees close to the water’s edge.  Although some water birds benefit from the abundant food source, they’re a rare winner.  The invasive species was introduced to the countries over a hundred years ago but the populations spiked massively after the 1960s when one genetic strain escaped from a fish farm in Victoria and in some places carp now constitute some 90% of the aquatic biomass.  As filter feeders (mud-suckers), they forage in the riverbeds, damaging aquatic plants, a feeding style which induces turbidity in the water, something unsuitable for many native fish.  Carp reproduce quickly, lack natural predators and are highly adaptable, able to take over ecological niches adding further stress to local flora & fauna.

In October 2022, a six-year research project to investigate the potential to introduce a herpes virus to control the carp delivered a final report to the Commonwealth & state governments.  In the national parliament, then deputy prime-minister and minister for Agriculture Barnaby Joyce MP (b 1967; thrice deputy prime-minister of Australia, 2016-date (the gaps due to “local difficulties”)) warmed to the idea of unleashing a venereal disease on “disgusting, mud-sucking carp”.