Arachibutyrophobe

Arachibutyrophobe (pronounced a-ra-chi-bu-tyr-o-pho-be)

One who suffers from the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of one's mouth.

1977: A compound word, the construct being the Latin arachis (peanut) + butyrum (butter) +‎ -phobe (fear of).  The –phobe suffix was a combining form used to form personal nouns corresponding to nouns.  It was from the French phobe, from the Latin –phobus (fear; panic), from the Attic Greek -φόβος (-phóbos), combining form of φόβος (phóbos), ablaut variant of φέβεσθαι (phébesthai), middle infinitive of φέβομαι (phébomai), from the primitive Indo-European bhegw.  Cognates included the Slovak bežať (run), the Polish biec (run), the Lithuanian bėgti (run), the Albanian dëboj (throw out, drive away, expel, banish).  The related German form is -phob.  The –phobe suffix can cause confusion because it can mean, depending on context, either “fear of” or “hatred of” and is often used in a political context; an Anglophobe being one with a dislike of the English while an Anglophile is an admirer.  The –phile suffix is from the Latin -phila, from Ancient Greek φίλος (phílos) (dear, beloved).

Phobias

Phobias need not be widely diagnosed conditions; they need only be specific and, even if suffered by just one soul in the world, the criteria are fulfilled.  In this sense, phobias are analogous with syndromes.  A phobia is an anxiety disorder, an unreasonable or irrational fear related to exposure to certain objects or situations.  The phobia may be triggered either by the cause or an anticipation of the specific object or situation.

Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap (1998) introduced the culinary novelty of peanut butter spread on Oreos; an allure appalled arachibutyrophobes avoid.

The fifth edition of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5 (2013)) made some interesting definitional changes from the earlier DSM-4 (1994):  (1) A patient no longer needs to acknowledge their anxiety is excessive or unreasonable in order to receive a diagnoses, it being required only that their anxiety must be “out of proportion” to the actual threat or danger (in its socio-cultural context).  (2) Symptoms must now, regardless of age, last at least six months.  (3) The diagnostic criteria for social phobias no longer specify that age at onset must be before eighteen, a change apparently necessitated by the substantial increase in reporting by older adults with the DSM editors noting the six-month duration threshold exists to minimize the over-diagnosis of transient fears.

Whether it was already something widely practiced isn’t known but Lindsay Lohan is credited with introducing to the world the culinary novelty Oreos & peanut butter in The Parent Trap.  According to the director, it was added to the script “…for no reason other than it sounded weird and some cute kid would do it."  Like some other weirdnesses, the combination has a cult following and for those who enjoy peanut butter but suffer arachibutyrophobia (the morbid fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of one’s mouth), Tastemade have provided a recipe for Lindsay Lohan-style Oreos with a preparation time (including whisking) of 2 hours.  They take 20 minutes to cook and in this mix there are 8 servings (scale ingredients up to increase the number of servings).

Ingredients

2 cups flour
1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (plus more for dusting)
¾ teaspoon kosher salt
1 ¼ cups unsalted butter (at room temperature)
¾ cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Powdered sugar, for dusting

Filling Ingredients

½ cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
¼ cup unsweetened smooth peanut butter
1 ½ cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
A pinch of kosher salt (omit if using salted peanut butter)

Filling Instructions

(1) With a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, the butter & peanut butter until creamy.

(2) Gradually add powdered sugar and beat to combine, then beat in vanilla and salt.

Whisking the mix.

Instructions

(1) Preheat the oven to 325°F (160°C). Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

(2) In small bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa powder & salt.

(3) In a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.  Mix in the vanilla extract. With the mixer running on low speed, add the flour mixture and beat until just combined (it should remain somewhat crumbly).

(4) Pour mixture onto a work surface and knead until it’s “all together”; wrap half in plastic wrap and place in refrigerator.

(5) Lightly dust surface and the top of the dough with a 1:1 mixture of cocoa powder and powdered sugar.

(6) Working swiftly and carefully, roll out dough to a ¼-½ inch (6-12 mm) thickness and cut out 2 inch (50 mm) rounds.  Transfer them to the baking sheets, 1 inch (25 mm) apart (using a small offset spatula helps with this step). Re-roll scraps and cut out more rounds, the repeat with remaining half of the dough.

(7) Bake cookies until the tops are no longer shiny ( about 20 minutes), then cool on pan for 5 minutes before transferring to wire rack completely to cool.

(8) To assemble, place half the cookies on a plate or work surface.

(9) Pipe a blob of filling (about 2 teaspoons) onto the tops of each of these cookies and then place another cookie on top, pressing slightly but not to the extent filled oozes from the sides.

(10) Refrigerate for a few minutes to allow the filling to firm up.  Store in an air-tight container in refrigerator.

The manufacturer embraced the idea of peanut butter Oreos and has released versions, both with the classic cookie and a peanut butter & jelly (jam) variation paired with its “golden wafers”.  As well as Lindsay Lohan’s contribution, Oreos have attracted the interest of mathematicians.  Nabisco in 1974 introduced the Double Stuf Oreo, the clear implication being a promise the variety contained twice crème filling supplied in the original.  However, a mathematician undertook the research and determined Double Stuf Oreos contained only 1.86 times the volume of filling of a standard Oreo.  Despite that, the company survived the scandal and the Double Stuf Oreo’s recipe wasn’t adjusted.

Scandalous in its own way was that an April 2022 research paper published in the journal Physics of Fluids wasn’t awarded that year’s Ig Nobel Prize for physics, the honor taken by Frank Fish, Zhi-Ming Yuan, Minglu Chen, Laibing Jia, Chunyan Ji & Atilla Incecik, for their admittedly ground-breaking (or perhaps water-breaking) work in explaining how ducklings manage to swim in formation.  More deserving surely were Crystal Owens, Max Fan, John Hart & Gareth McKinley who introduced to physics the discipline of Oreology (the construct being Oreo + (o)logy).  The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism et al).  Oreology is the study of the flow and fracture of sandwich cookies and the research proved it is impossible to split the cream filling of an Oreo cookie down the middle.

An Oreo on a rheometer.

The core finding in Oreology was that the filling always adheres to one side of the wafer, no matter how quickly one or both cookies are twisted.  Using a rheometer (a laboratory instrument used to measure the way in which a viscous fluid (a liquid, suspension or slurry) flows in response to applied forces), it was determined creme distribution upon cookie separation by torsional rotation is not a function of rate of rotation, creme filling height level, or flavor, but was mostly determined by the pre-existing level of adhesion between the creme and each wafer.  The research also noted that were there changes to the composition of the filling (such as the inclusion of peanut butter) would influence the change from adhesive to cohesive failure and presumably the specifics of the peanut butter chosen (smooth, crunchy, extra-crunchy, un-salted (although the organic varieties should behave in a similar way to their mass-market equivalents)) would have some effect because the fluid dynamics would change.  The expected extent of the change would be appear to be slight but until further research is performed, this can’t be confirmed.  The 33rd First Annual Ig Nobel Prize ceremony will (as a webcast) happen on Thursday 14 September 2023, at 18:00 pm (US eastern time).     

Athwart

Athwart (pronounced uh-thwawrt)

(1) From side to side; crosswise, transversely.

(2) In admiralty use, at right angles to the fore-and-aft line; across.

(3) Perversely; awry; wrongly.

1425-1475: From the Late Middle English athwert & athirt and a proclitic form of preposition; the construct was a- (in the sense of "in the direction of, toward")  + thwart.  The a prefix was from the Old English an (on) which in Middle English meant “up, out, away”, both derived from the Proto-Germanic uz (out), from the primitive Indo-European uds (up, out); cognate with the Old Saxon ā which endures in Modern German as the prefix er.  Thwart was from the Middle English adverb & adjective thwert, (crosswise; (cooking) across the grain, transverse; counter, opposing; contrary, obstinate, stubborn), a borrowing from Old Norse þvert (across, transverse), originally the neuter form of þverr (transverse, across), from the Proto-Germanic þwerhaz, altered or influenced by þweraną (to turn) and þerh, from the primitive Indo-European twork & twerk (to twist).  Cognates include the Old English þweorh (transverse, perverse, angry, cross), the Danish tvær, the Gothic þwaírs (angry), the West Frisian dwers (beyond, across, to the other side of), the Dutch dwars (cross-grained, contrary), the Low German dwars (cross-grained, contrary) and the German quer (crosswise; cross).  The modern English queer is related.  Although still used by poets good and bad, the word is probably otherwise obsolete for all purposes except historic admiralty documents.  Athwart is a noun & adverb, athwartship is an adjective & adverb and athwartships & athwartwise are adverb; the noun plural is athwarts.  Forms like athwartly are definitely non standard.

In nautical design, the term “athwart” is used to describe a direction or orientation that is perpendicular to the centreline of a ship or boat (ie that which runs across the vessel from side to side (port-to-starboard) at right angles to the fore-and-aft line.  In shipbuilding this can apply to various components and actions on a ship, such as beams, futtocks, bulkheads, or even the positioning of objects; as a general principle something can be said to be “athwart” if it sits perpendicular to the centreline but the term is most often applied to objects which span or crosses the vessel’s entire width.  In naval architecture specifically, athwart was used as a noun to refer to the cross-members which sat beneath the deck-mounted gun-turrets on warships.  Although they had long been a part of the supporting structures, the term “athwart” seems first to have been used on the blueprints of HMS Dreadnought, launched in 1906 and a design thought so revolutionary it lent its name to the class of the biggest battleships, previous such vessels immediately re-classified as “pre-dreadnoughts” and, when even bigger ships were launched, they were dubbed “super-dreadnoughts”.

Lindsay Lohan with former special friend Samantha Roinson, athwart, TV Guide's sixth annual Emmy after party, The Kress, September 2008, Hollywood, California.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834), Kubla Khan (1798)

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.

Admiralty

Admiralty (pronounced ad-mer-uhl-tee)

(1) In military use, the office or jurisdiction of an admiral.

(2) In military use, the officials or the department of state having charge of naval affairs (not all of whom needed to be admirals); it was analogous with an army's general staff and an air force's air staff.

(3) In the UK, the building in which the lords of the admiralty, in England, transact business.

(4) In law, the branch dealing with maritime law; a court dealing with maritime questions (In England, when jurisdiction was under the division of Divorce, Probate & Admiralty, the lawyers' slang was “wives, wills & wrecks”); the system of jurisprudence of admiralty courts.

(5) In (historic) architecture, a frequent descriptor (Admiralty House, Admiralty Arch etc).

1300–1350: A compound word Admiral + -ty, from the Middle English amiralty, from the French amirauté, from the older form amiralté (office of admiral), from the Late Latin admīrālitās.  The best known sense, “naval branch of the English executive" dates from the early-fifteenth century, root of the word being admiral.  Admiral emerged circa 1200 as amiral & admirail (Saracen commander or chieftain) from the Old French amiral & amirail (Saracen military commander; any military commander) ultimately from medieval Arabic amīr (military commander) probably via the Medieval Latin use of the word for "Muslim military leader".  The suffix –ty is from the Middle English -te, borrowed from the Old French -te, from the Latin -tātem, accusative masculine singular of –tās; an alternative form of –ity, it was used to form abstract nouns from adjectives.  The first English admiral to appear in the records appears to have been Admiral of the Fleet of the Cinque Ports, Gerard Allard of Winchelsea, a royal appointment in 1300.  The Arabic amīr was later Englished as emir.  In another example of Medieval error, because in Arabic use, amīr is constantly followed by -al- in all such titles, amīr-al- was assumed by Christian writers to be a substantive word and variously Latinized.  The process thus was a shortening of the Arabic أَمِير اَلبَحْر‎ (ʾamīr al-baḥr) (commander of the fleet; literally “sea commander”) and the additional -d- is probably from the influence of the otherwise unconnected Latin admirable (admīrābilis).  For those stalkers who take selfies at locations used in movies (Instagram made this niche), the The Ritz-Carlton, Marina del Rey (listed as the only waterside hotel in Los Angeles with a Five Diamond rating from the AAA) is at 4375 Admiralty Way in Marina del Rey.  It has appeared in a number of productions (film & television), notably Lindsay Lohan's remake of The Parent Trap (1998).  Admiralty & admiral are nouns; the noun plural is plural admiralties.  When used as a proper noun (thus the initial upper case), in Royal Navy use, Admiralty referred (1) the historical naval bases established in the Far East: (1) HMS Tamar (Hong Kong) and (2) HMS Sembawang (Singapore).

Admiralty Arch, London.

An island rather than a continental power and later an empire, for England, the navy assumed an importance in foreign policy standing armies never did and the Royal Navy’s high command, the Admiralty, was for centuries entangled in both military and political matters.  The Admiralty no longer exists, absorbed in 1964, like the high commands of the other services, into the newly created Ministry of Defence.  Over the centuries, the structure of the Admiralty evolved as technology changed, threats and alliances came and went, budgets waxed and waned, political vicissitudes always hovering.  As a bureaucracy, the Admiralty has been staffed by a bewildering array of offices and titles including board members, presidents, sea lords, secretaries, civil lords, controllers, comptrollers, accountants-general, directors-general, storekeepers-general, surveyors, deputy chiefs, vice chiefs & assistant chiefs but in its final incarnation, under a First Lord of the Admiralty (a minister for the navy who sat in parliament and was thus political head of the navy) there were five admirals, known as the sea lords (of which there were eight lords during World War II; things were busy then).  The sea lords each enjoyed a sphere of responsibility for naval operations:

The First Sea Lord (later First Sea Lord and Chief of the Naval Staff), directed naval strategy in wartime and was responsible for planning, operations and intelligence, for the distribution of the Fleet and for its fighting efficiency.  He was the military head of the Navy.

The Second Sea Lord (later Second Sea Lord and Chief of Naval Personnel), was responsible for manning & mobilisation and all personnel questions relating to the Royal Navy and Royal Marines.

The Third Sea Lord (later the Controller of the Navy) was responsible primarily for ship design and construction and most material matters including the Fleet Air Arm.

The Fourth Sea Lord (later Chief of Naval Supplies) was responsible for logistics, victualling and medical departments.

The Fifth Sea Lord (later the Chief of Naval Air Services) was responsible for all naval aviation.

Comptroller

Comptroller (pronounced kuhn-troh-ler)

A variant spelling of controller, used especially as a title of some financial executives.

Circa 1500: From the late Middle English compteroller, a spelling mistake which became a variant of countreroller (from which Modern English ultimately gained controller) due to medieval folk etymology, the notion being there was a link to the Middle French compte (account); the Middle French compteroleur is attested circa 1375.  Originally the two spellings were equivalent and pronounced identically; the sometimes-used modern pronunciation (komp-troll-ah) is based on the spelling.  Controller is thus sometimes a homophone, sometimes not and there seem to be pedants on both sides of fence upon which most sit.  Comptroller and comptrollership are nouns; the noun plural is comptrollers.

Controller came from the From Middle English countreroller, from the Anglo-Norman contreroulour and the Middle French contreroleur (the Modern French contrôleur), from the Medieval Latin contrārotulātor, from contrārotulāre (from which is descended the modern control).  The original meaning in English was “an official in charge of accounts in a king's household" from the late thirteenth century Anglo-French contrerolleour, from the Old French contrerelleor, from the Medieval Latin contrarotulator.  The broader sense of one who manages the finances of a corporation or institution" emerged from circa 1450-1500; the first syllable was confused with count from the Latin comptus (an account) from computare, hence the creation of comptroller.

Comptroller & Controller

Comptroller is an example of the haphazard way mistakes sometimes made their way into English, became entrenched and then, often with some enthusiasm, were adopted throughout the British Empire and beyond.  Although adherence is not universal, the convention of use is that if employed in government service, the job is styled as comptroller (eg Comptroller-General, Household Comptroller etc) and if in the private sector, controller (eg Financial Controller) is used.  Because of its origin, the very existence of “comptroller” attracted disapproval until well into the twentieth century but the distinction between the two words must have proved useful because it has endured; that’s how English works.  The evolution of the convention was organic but unfortunately less helpful than it might have been.  More useful would have been for comptroller to apply to people and controller to electric or mechanical devices for controlling circuits or systems but the convention was a product of its time.

A legacy of empire is that the civil services of many members of the Commonwealth and the United States contain many comptrollers.  In India, for example, the civil service appointments are essentially the same as under the Raj.  The Comptroller and Auditor General of India audits all receipts and expenditure of the Government of India and the state governments, including QUANGOs and other authorities where funding substantially is provided by government.  The Comptroller of the President's Household is a position analogous with a similar appointment at Buckingham Palace and, by statute, is always a Navy Captain.  Similar positions of comptrollers exist in the governor's household in each state and union territory.

Set in stone: The Office of the Comptroller of the Currency.

Although it has existed since emerging in 1863 from the slew of legislation passed during the US Civil War (1861-1865), the regulator of the nation’s largest financial institutions remains one of the more obscure federal bodies, something perhaps related to its name being misleading in that it plays little direct role in currency matters, both the US Federal Reserve (the “Fed”) and the Treasury (of which the independent OCC is technically a part) being far more influential.  The Office of the Comptroller of the Currency (OCC) is an interesting case study illustration a number of the phenomena noted in organizational behavior exclusive to governmental institutions which, unlike institutions which have to justify their ongoing existence on some easily understood metric (like running at a profit).

The OCC’s notional supervisory bailiwick is the “national” banks, so-called because they are chartered under the National Bank Act which also dates from 1863.  The wartime function of all this actually had little to do with the banks; the legislation and the OCC were designed to be a way the Union armies could be financed and with the outcome of the conflict still in the balance, the advantages to be gained by creating a financing mechanism which could strengthen the Northern economy, military and industry by then obvious.  At the time, the banks operated under charters issued by the states and their core business was not attracting deposits and lending but the issuing of banknotes and because the economy ran on banknotes (gold and silver coins had a function but couldn’t support modern commerce as once they had).

Neither the administration nor the Congress really had any alternative as a mechanism to finance the war which had drained the federal coffers induced borrowing to the point where the capital markets were depleted to the extent of being a threat to both the economy and military operations.  While a fiat currency would seem a textbook solution, an acceptance of the concept was still years away so the compromise was for (1) the federal government to charter the banks, (2) to taxed the state banknotes into existence and (3), require the new “national” banks to invest their reserves in US government bonds.  Instantly it created a source of finance the South couldn’t match.  In wartime, the system worked well, perhaps even more effectively than the government had envisaged but what it meant was that when the war ended, the new, powerful, National banks remained but without the demand that they act as a conduit of money to support the needs of the state.

So the big banks proceeded to do what big banks do, the result being over the decades one bank scandal panic and crisis after another until in 1913, the Federal Reserve was created which obviated any the need private banknotes, the national currency (in the form of Federal Reserve notes), then still backed by physical gold the medium of exchange for all purposes.  The big banks adapted well to the new environment and so did the OCC which evolved into what can be understood only as the big bank’s lobbyist, an administrative layer between them and regulation, a tendency furthered by the emergence of what’s known as “regulatory arbitrage”.  Because the US system for chartering banks is a patchwork (states authorize some banks, along with the OCC, and the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC) has an authority physically to examine the records of all banks) the banks can actually choose their regulator and some have left the state-based systems and “joined” the OCC orbit where the regulatory environment is much more benign.  This regulatory arbitrage is self-reinforcing because as institutions shift their status, they also move their fees, thereby further strengthening the OCC, the implication being the banks are valued clients rather than institutions to regulate.

Currencies need to be regulated which was a relatively simple (if technically complex) business when the objects were physical paper (or plastic) and metal but the emergence of cryptocurrencies without a national identity has required a different approach. 

The OCC last had a full-time, permanent comptroller in mid-2020.  President Biden (b 1942; US president since 2021) has made several attempts to have the Senate confirm an appointment but without success.  The Republicans appear to believe only white mane are qualified for such a role and even some Democrat senators have found the political positions of some of the White House’s offering just too radical an given that white men seem now to be anathema to the factions which control the Democratic Party, there seem little prospect the OCC will soon gain a new comptroller.  One suggestion has been to solve many problems by abolishing the OCC and transferring its functions to the FDIC and while that might result in a better regulated environment, as the troubles with the First Republic bank illustrate, its supervisory regime is hardly perfect and despite all that’s been revealed since 2008, the big banks still enjoy an implicit guarantee from the federal government that they’ll be bailed out in the event of another financial crisis. They are still too big to fail, regardless of which authority acts as their nominal supervisor.

Besiege

Besiege (pronounced bih-seej)

(1) In military parlance, to lay siege to (to surround a fortified area, especially a city) with military forces to bring about its surrender.

(2) To crowd around; crowd in upon; surround:

(3) To assail or ply, as with requests or demands.

1250-1300: From the Middle English besegen & bisegen, the construct being be- + siege.  The be- prefix is from the Middle English be- & bi- from the Old English be- from the Proto-Germanic bi- (be-) (near, by), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European hepi (at, near); source of the Modern English by.  Siege is from the Middle English sege from Old French sege, siege & seige (from which Modern French gained siège) from the Vulgar Latin sēdicum from the Latin sēdicŭlum & sēdēcula (small seat), from the Latin sēdēs (seat).  An alternative spelling during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries was syege but it didn’t survive the evolution into Modern English.  Although not wholly synonymous, related words include encircle, beleaguer, beset, blockade, trap, harass, hound, plague, pester, invest, attack, congregate, environ, assail, encompass, confine, nag, importune, harry, trouble & harry.  Besiege, besieged & besieging are verbs, besiegement & besieger are nouns and besiegingly is an adverb.  

Historic meanings

Siege is one of the words in English which, purely by organic evolution, now has essentially one meaning (in both a military & figurative sense) but which, from time to time, enjoyed many meanings, all now obsolete.  They included:

(1) A seat, especially as used by someone of importance or authority.
(2) An ecclesiastical office’s geographical limits.
(3) The place where one has their home, residence or domain.
(4) A toilet seat.
(5) The anus; the rectum.
(6) Excrements, stool, fecal matter.
(7) Rank; grade; station; estimation.
(8) The floor of a glass-furnace.
(9) A workman's bench.
(10) A place with a toilet seat: outhouse; the loo, lavatory.

Besieged by demons: St Catherine of Siena besieged by demons, tempera and gold on panel by an anonymous artist from Lesser Poland, circa 1500.  On display in the National Museum, Warsaw since 1947.

Besieged by fan mail: Lindsay Lohan and the "Free Lindsay" campaign, Los Angeles, 2012.

Equipoise

Equipoise (pronounced ee-kwuh-poiz or ek-wuh-poiz)

(1) An equal distribution of weight; even balance; equilibrium; The relation of two weights or forces which balance each other; equilibrium; equiponderance.

(2) An alternative name for a counterpoise in certain contexts, now rarely seen outside of literary and poetic use.

(3) In medical research, as clinical equipoise, or the principle of equipoise, a term to describe certain aspects of the ethical basis for clinical trials.

(4) In commercial pharmacy, the trademark for Hydroxyzine, an antihistamine and Boldenone Undecylenate, an anabolic steroid, once prescribed for human use, now restricted to veterinary applications, mostly equine.

(5) Of or pertaining to equilibrioception, the state of being balanced or in equilibrium.

1625–1635: An English coining which borrowed from both Latin and French, following the mid sixteenth century phrase "equal poise", the construct being equi + poise.  The prefix equi (which existed also as equ if preceding a vowel), was a word-forming element meaning "equal” from the Latin aequi, a combining form of aequus (equal, even).  Poise was from the Anglo-Norman poise (measure of weight), from the Anglo-Norman pois, from the Middle French pois (weight).

Clinical Equipoise

The term clinical equipoise, (also known within the medical research community as the principle of equipoise), was used first in 1987 by Benjamin Freedman (1951-1997), professor of medicine in the Biomedical Ethics Unit at McGill University, Montreal.  It provides a construct for the ethical framework of medical research involving the assignment of patients to different treatment streams in clinical trials.  An ethical dilemma exists in clinical trials if a researcher has cause to believe the treatment in one stream of a trial is significantly out-performing others.  Although it’s something of a deliberate scientific fiction, trials should be designed on the basis of a null hypothesis; that there should exist no evidence beyond the indicative that the intervention being trialed will result in better results than existing treatments or no treatment at all.  As a trial proceeds, findings may provide sufficient evidence to convince the investigator of the intervention’s efficacy and once a certain threshold of evidence is reached, uncertainty no longer exists, thereby creating an ethical imperative for the investigator to provide the superior intervention to all participants.  Being a thing applied to clinical work, it’s therefore not an abstract theory but, given the size, duration and complexity of many trials, it can be difficult to define exactly, or even vaguely, when the threshold has been reached.

Equipoise is one of the brand-names used for boldenone undecylenate (also as boldenone undecenoate.  It is an androgen and anabolic steroid (AAS) medication intended for use in in veterinary medicine (predominately equine) but in the 1970s it began to be used by humans, usually to enhance physical characteristics.  It remains available for veterinary use where it highly regarded but in most markets it's a controlled drug and use by humans is via the illicit market.  

Dispone

Dispone (pronounced dis-pohn)

(1) In common law, to convey legal authority to another.

(2) To arrange or set in order; to dispose (obsolete).

(3) In Scots law, legally to assign, make over, grant; to convey land, until 1868 an essential word in any valid conveyance of land in Scotland. 

Circa 1400: A borrowing from French, from the Latin disponĕre (to arrange), second-person singular future passive indicative of dispōnō, the construct being dis- (a prefix from the Middle English dis-, borrowed from Latin dis-, from the primitive Indo-European dwís and used in Latin and beyond as an intensifier of words with negative valence) +‎ pōnō (place, put); pōnō from the Proto-Italic poznō.  In Latin the construct was thus dis- (apart, away) + ponere (to place, put) and the word was used in Roman administrative law to mean "to arrange, distribute, or dispose of".  Over time, disponere evolved in various Romance languages, including Old French and Middle English.

Memories of the First Earl of Eldon, Bedford Square, London.

Dispone was a technical word in Scottish property law which, historically, implied the transfer of feudal property by a particular deed while not being equivalent to the term alienate.  Technical it certainly was and whatever the legal theory, the distinction seems to have had no practical purpose and Lord Eldon (1751-1838; Lord Chancellor 1801-1806 & 1807-1827), eventually clarified things by noting “with respect to the word dispone, if I collect the opinions of a majority of the judges rightly, I am of opinion that the word dispone would have the same effect as the word alienate.”  From that point on, the disponer or maker of the deed “sells and dispones,” or, where the deed was gratuitous, “gives, grants, and dispones,” the subject of the deed to the receiver, who technically was called the disponee.  As verbs the difference between convey and dispone is that convey is to transport; to carry; to take from one place to another while dispone is to convey legal authority to another.  A pone was conceptually similar but did not involve real property.  A pone was a common law writ, from the Anglo-Norman pone and its source, the Late Latin pone, from the Latin pōne, imperative form of pōnere (to place).  It had two forms, (1) a writ used by the superior courts to remove cases from inferior courts and (2) a writ to enforce appearance in court by attaching goods or requiring securities.

Knocker

Knocker (pronounced nok-er)

(1) A person or thing that knocks.

(2) A sometimes ornamental hinged knob, bar, etc on (usually) a door, for use in knocking.

(3) In informal use, a persistent and carping critic; a faultfinder; nit-picker.

(4) In vulgar slang, a female breast (usually in the plural, for obvious reasons).

(5) In slang as “on the knocker”, canvassing or selling door-to-door (UK); promptly; on time; a correct (Australia & New Zealand).

(6) In slang, one who defaults on payment of a wager (an archaic North of England dialectical form).

(7) In slang, a person who is strikingly handsome or otherwise admirable; a stunner (an archaic variation of “a knock-out”).

(8) A dwarf, goblin, or sprite imagined to dwell in mines and to indicate the presence of ore by knocking (South Wales, archaic dialectical eighteenth & nineteenth century form).

(9) In the arcade game pinball, a mechanical device in a pinball table that produces a loud percussive noise.

(10) In entomology, a large cockroach, especially Blaberus giganteus, of semitropical America, which is able to produce a loud knocking sound.

(11) In geology, a large, boulder-shaped outcrop of bedrock in an otherwise low-lying landscape, chiefly associated with a mélange.

1375-1400: An agent noun from the Middle English knock, the construct being knock + -er.  Knock was from the Middle English knokken, from the Old English cnocian, ġecnocian & cnucian (to knock, pound on, beat), from the Proto-West Germanic knokōn, from the Proto-Germanic knukōną (to knock), a suffixed form of knu- & kneu- (to pound on, beat), from the primitive Indo-European gen- (to squeeze, pinch, kink, ball up, concentrate). The English word was cognate with the Middle High German knochen (to hit), the Old English cnuian & cnuwian (to pound, knock) and the Old Norse knoka.  It was related to the Danish knuge and the Swedish knocka (to hug).  The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought usually to have been borrowed from Latin –ārius and reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant was -our), from the Latin -(ā)tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  The –er suffix was added to verbs to create a person or thing that does an action indicated by the root verb; used to form an agent noun.  It added to a noun it denoted an occupation.  The sense of "door banger" is from the 1590s although the precise use in architecture of a "metal device fixed to the outside of a door for banging to give notice when someone desires admission" seems not to have been formalised until 1794.  The use to refer to breasts wasn’t noted until 1941.

Knocker-upper using bamboo knocker, circa 1900.

Mentioned in Charles Dickens’ (1812-1870) Great Expectations (1860-1861), the knocker-upper (or knock-up) was an occupation created by the demands of the industrial revolution in late eighteenth century which demanded an often newly-urbanized workforce to appear in factories on time for shifts, the punctuality important because of the need to synchronize the attendance of labour to machines.  At the time, alarm clocks were neither cheap nor generally available but the role persisted in some parts of northern England, well into the twentieth century, long after electricity and alarm clocks became ubiquitous, the knocker-uppers sometime on the payroll of mill or factory owners.  The role was sometimes combined with employment by local authorities, the knocker-upper paid while on his “waking-up” rounds manually to extinguish the street-lamps.

Bronze door knockers from earlier centuries.

Knocker-upper Mary Smith using peas-shooter, London, circa 1930.

The tool used depended on the need.  Knocker-uppers tended to use a short, hardwood stick to bang on doors and a lighter one, often made of bamboo to tap on windows, the latter in some towns long enough to reach the upper stories although there are photographs of pea-shooters being used in London, apparently a dried pea projective the only practical way to reach the third floor.  The nature of service was customised according to need.  In places where shifts were invariable, the knocker-upper tended to work from a list which only occasionally changed whereas in areas where industries ran multiple shifts and an employee’s start and finish times could change from day to day, slate boards were often attached to the wall next to the door with the desired hour nominated, these known as "knocky-up boards" or "wake-up slates".

When door knockers go rogue.