Sinecure

Sinecure (pronounced sahy-ni-kyoor or sin-i-kyoor)

(1) An office or paid position requiring little or no work, often one with no formal duties (historically sometimes as sinecure post).

(2) An ecclesiastical benefice without cure of souls (a clerical appointment to which no spiritual or pastoral charge was attached (obsolete)).

(3) Figuratively, something having the appearance of functionality without being of any actual use or purpose.

1655–1665: From the Medieval Latin phrase beneficium sine cūrā (a benefice granted without cure of souls (care of parishioners), the construct being benefices + sine (without) + cūra (care).  The construct of the Latin benefium (beneficent) was bene- (well, good) +‎ -ficus (the suffix denoting making) + -ium.  The –ium suffix (used most often to form adjectives) was applied as (1) a nominal suffix (2) a substantivisation of its neuter forms and (3) as an adjectival suffix.  It was associated with the formation of abstract nouns, sometimes denoting offices and groups, a linguistic practice which has long fallen from fashion.  In the New Latin, it was the standard suffix appended when forming names for chemical elements.  The derived forms include sinecureship, sinecurism, sinecural & sinecurist; the noun plural is sinecures.

The sinecure was a creation of medieval ecclesiastical law and referred to a situation in which the rector (with an emolument) of a parish neither resided in nor undertook the liturgical and pastoral functions of a cleric in the benefice but had a vicar serving under him, endowed and charged with the cure (pastoral care) of the parishioners.  From this the secular world borrowed the word to refer to an office or appointment which yields a revenue to the incumbent, but makes little or no demand upon their time or attention.  In ecclesiastical usage a sinecure was (1) a benefice of pecuniary value, a rectory, or vicarage, in which there is neither church nor population, (2) a benefice in which the rector receives the tithes, though the cure of souls, legally and ecclesiastically, belongs to some clerk or (3) a benefice in which there are both rector and vicar, in which case the duty commonly rests with the vicar, and the rectory is called a sinecure; but no church in which there is but one incumbent is properly a sinecure.  Presumably to avoid any clerical rorting of the system, as a technical point, ecclesiastical law noted that were a church to cease to exist or a parish become destitute of parishioners, a sinecure would not be created because the incumbent remained under obligation to perform divine service if the church should be rebuilt or the parish become inhabited.

Sinecures were for centuries a feature of the operation of Church and State in England and, as a useful form of patronage (and sometimes blatant corruption), they lasted until abolished by parliament in 1840.  They’d any way by then substantially fallen into disuse, few existing after the reform acts of the 1830s although they remained a favorite of novelists who enjoyed the possibilities their absurdity offered as a literary device, Anthony Trollope (1815–1882) in Barchester Towers (1857) memorably recounting the tale of the prebendary Dr Vesey Stanhope who spent a dozen years in Italy recovering from a sore throat, his time absorbed in catching butterflies.  Although sinecures vanished from ecclesiastical law, they remained an aspect of ecclesiastical life, under-employed clerics sometimes the subject of the same acerbic comments indolent tenured professors attract in campus fiction. 

In politics, sinecures evolved along three forks.  The first was as a formal device to allow political formations to coalesce, sinecures (the most obvious of which is the seemingly mysterious “minister without portfolio”) handy appointments when the need existed to pad out a ministry to fulfil the agreements entered into to form the coalitions necessary to secure a majority.  The second use of sinecures some claim are actually a form of corruption.  There are appointments made for base political reasons such as a means of disposing of someone suddenly inconvenient or as payment for political favors; such “jobs for the boys” (a few of which are “given” to women and the gender-neutral form “jobs for mates” is now preferred) are an integral part of modern politics.  In the Australian state of New South Wales (NSW), one premier was actually compelled to resign after an enquiry found one such appointment constituted corruption (a finding later overturned but many found the somewhat expanded definition of what actually constituted corruption to be compellingly convincing).  The sinecure also has a technical use in the operation of the UK parliament.  For historical reasons, members are not allowed to resign from the House of Commons but nor are members allowed simultaneously to hold what is termed “an office of profit under the Crown” and the conflictual interaction of these two provisions provide the mechanism by which a member may depart, the hollow shell of an ancient sinecure maintained for the purpose; once a member is appointed to the sinecure, their seat in parliament is declared vacant.

John Barilaro (b 1971) member of the NSW Legislative Assembly (Monaro) 2011-2021; cabinet minister 2014-2021 and Leader of the National Party (ex-Country Party) and thus deputy premier of NSW 2016-2021).  Mr Barilaro is pictured here with his family, May 2020.

In June 2022, Dominic Perrottet (b 1982, premier of NSW (Liberal) since 2021) announced the appointment of former deputy premier John Barilaro as NSW trade commissioner to the Americas, based in the US.  Responding to criticism this was another case of "jobs for mates", Mr Perrottet said Mr Bartilaro’s background and experience made him ideal for the role and he’d been selected not by the government but by recruitment firm NGS Global which conducted a "rigorous global talent search".  He was “…by far the most outstanding candidate" Mr Perrottet added.  Mr Barilaro seemed to agree, saying he would “…continue to build on what had already been achieved”.  One achievement of note was that the position of trade commissioner (believed to include an annual salary of Aus$400,000 and an expense account of a further Aus$100,000) was created while Mr Barilaro while a member of the NSW government although he insists this was entirely an inititive of the NSW Treasury.

Whether Mr Barilaro's appointment should be thought an example of horizontal or vertical integration attracted some interest but it certainly provides inspiration for politicians pondering their retirement planning (a task some suspect constitutes the bulk of most parliamentary careers): (1) create a number of highly paid statutory appointments (ie in the gift of a minister with no need to advertise the vacancy), (2) ensure the jobs don't require any skills or qualifications, (3) make sure at least some are based in a pleasant city in a first-world country, (4) design a job description that is vague and has no measure of success or failure & (5) arrange one's own appointment to the most desirable (methods will vary according to factional arrangements, favors owed etc).  Some probably consider this a plan B retirement scheme but it can be a lower-profile alternative to plan A which is (1) do some deal by which public assets are (sold, leased or in some advantageous way) made available to a corporation, individual, national entity etc & (2) do so in secret exchange for a lucrative (and especially undemanding) sinecure after retirement from politics.           

The reaction to the premier’s statement does illustrate the way the perception of a job can be changed according to circumstances of the appointment.  A job such as a trade commissioner would nominally be regarded as a conventional public service role, had it been filled by someone with an appropriate academic background or experience in trade or foreign relations but if given to an ex-politician, it can look like a sinecure, a nice retirement package with no expectation that KPIs or any of the other fashionable metrics of performance measurement will be much analyzed, either in New York or Sydney.

Still, Mr Barilaro has shown a flair for media management which would be handy in any foray into international relations.  In October 2021 he announced his separation from his wife of 26 years and it later transpired he was in a relationship with his former media adviser, such couplings apparently a bit of a National Party thing.  A few weeks later he concluded his valedictory speech in the NSW Parliament with the words "…one piece of advice: Be kind to each other. If we have learned anything over the past two years it is to be kind to each other."

On 30 June, following interesting revelations at a parliamentary enquiry convened to examine the processes which secured his appointment, Mr Barilaro announced he would not be taking the job.  "It is clear that my taking up this role is now not tenable with the amount of media attention this appointment has gained." he said in a written statement, adding "I believe my appointment will continue to be a distraction and not allow this important role to achieve what it was designed to do, and thus my decision."  In conclusion, he stated "I stress, that I have always maintained that I followed the process and look forward to the results of the review."

To the extent possible, he followed the politician's three-step playbook of how to try to extricate one's self from a tricky situation of one's own making: (1) blame the unfair media coverage, (2) assert there's been no wrong-doing but to avoid becoming a distraction for the party (usually expressed as "the government", "the state" etc) I am (withdrawing, resigning, standing aside etc) & (3) I am looking forward to spending more time with my family.  In the circumstances, he chose not to invoke step (3), that perhaps a bit much, even for Mr Barilaro.  The parliamentary enquiry however remains afoot (as does an internal review which may have a different agenda) and its findings should make interesting reading, students of the manufacture of sausages expected to be amused, if not surprised.

Meddle

Meddle (pronounced med-l)

(1) To involve oneself in a matter without right or invitation; to interfere officiously or unwantedly.

(2) To intervene, intrude or pry.

(3) To interest or engage oneself; to have to do (with), in a good sense (obsolete).

(4) To mix something with some other substance; to commingle, combine, blend (an obsolete form used between the fourteenth & seventeenth centuries by apothecaries and others (the synonyms being bemix & bemingle)).

(5) To have sex (a fourteenth century euphemism now obsolete except as in US regional slang, south of the Mason-Dixon line, also in the variant “ming”).

1250–1300: From Middle English medlen (to mingle, blend, mix), from the Anglo-Norman medler, a variant of Anglo-Norman and Old North French medler, a variant of mesler & meller (source of the Modern French mêler), from the Vulgar Latin misculō & misculāre, frequentative of the Latin misceō & miscēre (to mix).  The Vulgar Latin was the source of the Provençal mesclar, the Spanish mezclar and the Italian mescolare & meschiare), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European root meik- (to mix).  The similar noun mélange (a mixture, a medley (usually in the sense of "an uncombined mingling on elements, objects, or individuals”)) dates from the 1650s, from the fifteenth century French mélange, from mêler (to mix, mingle), from the Old French mesler (to mix, meddle, mingle).

The word began in the sense of “to mix” and was used by many in professions which dealt with the mixing of stuff (apothecaries, bakers, chefs et al) and for the late fourteenth century came to be used to mean "to busy oneself, be concerned with, engage in" which soon gained the disparaging sense of "interfere or take part in inappropriately or impertinently, be officious, make a nuisance of oneself", which was the idea of meddling too much, the surviving sense of the word.  Similarly, the noun meddler (agent noun from the verb meddle), evolved over the same time from a "practitioner" to "one who interferes with things in which they have no personal or proper concern; a nuisance".

The mid-fourteenth century noun meddling (action of blending) was a verbal noun from the verb meddle which evolved with the newer meaning "act or habit of interfering in matters not of one's proper concern"; it has been used as a present-participle adjective since the 1520s, most famously as “meddling priest”, a phrase which described the habit of Roman Catholic clergy to assume the right to intrude uninvited into affairs of state or the lives of individuals.  There appears to be no record of meddle being applied as a collective noun but “meddle of priests” is tempting (though suggestions for a clerical collective are many).

Meddle & meddled meddling are verbs, meddling is a verb & adjective, meddler is a noun and meddlingly an adverb.  Words which can to some degree be synonymous with meddle include to some degree includes hinder, impede, impose, infringe, intrude, tamper, advance, encroach, encumber, inquire, interlope, interpose, invade, kibitz, molest, obtrude, pry, snoop & trespass.  The derived forms include meddlement & meddlesome.

Three popes attended by a meddle of meddling priests during an ad limin.  Pope Saint John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005) in 2004 (left), Pope Benedict XVI (b 1927; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus since) in 2012 (centre) & Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) in 2019.  The ad limina visits (from the Latin ad limina apostolorum (to the threshold of the apostles) are obligatory pilgrimages to Rome made by all bishops, during which they pray at the tombs of Saint Peter & Saint Paul before meeting with the pope and Vatican officials.  During their ad limina, bishops present a quinquennial report of matters in their respective diocese, considered usually to represent the truth if not the whole truth.

One of the more memorable expressions of the tension between secular and ecclesiastical authority on Earth was "Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?" (sometimes as "meddlesome priest" or "troublesome priest"), attributed to Henry II (1133–1189; King of England 1154-1189) and held to be the phrase which inspired the murder in 1170 of Saint Thomas Becket (circa 1120–1170; Archbishop of Canterbury 1162-1170).  Henry’s rant was a reaction to being told Becket had excommunicated some bishops aligned with the king and like the legendary invective of some famous figures (Oliver Cromwell, Adolf Hitler et al), are probably not a verbatim record of his words but certainly reflect his mood.  The familiar version dates from a work of history published in 1740, the influence apparently biblical, the debt owed to Romans 7:24: "O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? (King James Version (KJV 1611) and the work of subsequent authors does suggest Henry’s words were from the start understood as being a complaint to his staff that none of them appeared to have the initiative needed to act against the wrongs of the archbishop.  While not literally perhaps an order to commit murder, it seems at least to have been an inducement because it prompted four knights to travel to Canterbury Cathedral where they killed the archbishop either deliberately or as a consequence of him resisting attempts to drag him off to face Henry’s wrath.  The chain of events has been used to illustrate contexts as varied as chaos theory, plausible deniability and working towards the leader.

Chaos theory explores the idea that something apparently insignificant can trigger a chain reaction of events which conclude with something momentous.  The theory can be mapped onto any sequence of events, the interest being in tracking lineal paths in behavioral patterns which might appear random.  The sequence which lay between Henry’s words and the decapitation of the saintly archbishop was, by the standards of some of what’s been explored by chaos theory, simple and to some degree perhaps predictable but there was nothing wholly deterministic.

Some nefarious activity is wrongly attributed to the US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) but it seems that genuinely they did coin the phrase plausible deniability.  It emerged in the post Dulles (Allen Dulles, 1893–1969; US Director of Central Intelligence (DCI) 1953-1961) aftermath to the Bay of Pigs fiasco and was a collection of informal protocols whereby senior government officials (particularly the president) were “protected” from responsibility by not being informed of certain things (or at least there being no discoverable record (a la the smoking gun principle)) which could prove transmission of the information.  Henry II’s "Who will rid me of this turbulent priest?" is a variation in that it once deconstructed, it can be interpreted as a wish the archbishop should in some way be “disappeared” yet is sufficiently vague that a denial that that was the intention is plausible.

It’s related too to “working towards the Führer” an explanation English historian Sir Ian Kershaw (b 1943) most fully developed as part of his model explaining the structures and operation of the Nazi state.  For decades after the war, there were those who claimed that because, among the extraordinary volume of documents uncovered after the end of the Third Reich, nothing had ever been found which suggested Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Nazi dictator 1933-1945) had ever issue the order which triggered the Holocaust.  To emphasize the basis of their claims in this matter, some who wrote attempting to exonerate Hitler of his most monstrous crime styled themselves as “archivists” rather than historians, the heavy-handed hint being they were relying wholly on evidence, not speculative interpretation.  Kershaw’s arguments proved compelling and now few accept the view that the absence of anything in writing is significant and there’s no doubt Hitler either ordered or approved the Holocaust in its most fundamental aspects.

The “working towards the Führer” model did however prove useful in understanding the practical operation (rather than the theoretical structures) of the Führerprinzip (leader principle).  Throughout the many layers of the party and state which interacted to create the Third Reich, it’s clear that not only did Hitler’s words serve to inspire and justify actions of which the Führer was never aware but that much of what was done was based on what people thought he would have said had he been asked.  Hitler didn’t need to order the Holocaust because those around him worked towards what they knew (or supposed) his intent to be.

Lalochezia

Lalochezia (pronounced lăl′ō-kē′zē-ə)

The emotional relief or satisfaction gained by using indecent or vulgar language; the use of vulgar or foul language to relieve stress or pain.

The construct was lalo(s) + -chezia.  Lalo was from the Ancient Greek λαλέω (laléō) (I talk, chat, prattle), from λάλος (lálos), thought probably of imitative origin and compared in that sense to the German lallen (to babble).  It may have been a reduplicated form of the primitive Indo-European lehz-, the cognates including the Latin lallō, the Lithuanian laluoti, the German lallen, the English loll & the Welsh llolian but etymologists caution that’s speculative and it may be merely onomatopoeic.  The English suffix –cheziz represented the Ancient Greek χέζω (khézō) (I defecate) + -ῐ́ᾱ (-íā), the suffix forming abstract nouns.

Lalochezia is a simple construction, the Greek lalos (talkative, babbling and loquacious) + khezo (I defecate) (which became the English suffix -chezia (defecation)).  The idea is thus the universally understood “talking shit” in the sense of filthy language.  Other similar constructions, both of which are probably as rare as lalochezia, include allochezia (either (1) expelling something other than feces from the anus or (2) expelling feces from somewhere other than the anus (curiously, two very different experiences described by the same word)) and dyschezia (a difficult or painful defecation).  Lalochezia is rare word certainly but when needed, nothing else works so well or with such economy of expression. 

If the word is rare, what is describes is anything but and there have been academic studies which confirm the effect is real: swearing or cursing in reaction to stress or pain does appear to reduce discomfort, the effect described as a form of stress-induced analgesia, the swearing due to a painful stimulus being a form of emotional response.  However, it remains unclear what the mechanism is which swearing induces to achieve the physical effect although it’s speculated swearing in response to pain or stress may activate the amygdala (one of the two regions of the brain, located as a pair in the medial temporal lobe, believed to play a key role in processing emotions (fear, pleasure et al) in both animals and humans) which in turn triggers a fight-or-flight response, this leading to a surge in adrenaline, a natural form of pain relief.

Lindsay Lohan, Los Angeles, 2010.

Lalochezia is of course inherently verbal but need not be oral and can even be nikehedonic (relief or satisfaction gained for an act done in anticipation of its effect).  In July 2010, Lindsay Lohan returned to court in the matter of an alleged violation of the terms of a probation order and it didn’t go well, a jail sentence of 90 days imposed which was bad but, due to chronic over-crowding in Los Angeles corrective facilities, she was released after a few hours which was good.  What attracted some interest was her manicure, the nails painted in a playful pastel psychedelia but what stood out was the middle finger where written in black was "fuck U", the “U” in what appeared to be upper-case script taken to be a hint at the intended emphasis.  The photos taken during the proceedings show her with the offending hand often covering the mouth, leading commentators to suggest the silent sentiment was aimed at the bench.  Whether this was an inventive form of visual dialogue (albeit one presumably scaled to be not within the judge’s field of view) or, as she subsequently claimed "a joke with a friend", regardless of the protection offered by the First Amendment, it’s a fashion choice few defense lawyers would suggest their clients should follow.

Jentacular

Jentacular (pronounced yen-tac-u-la)

Of or pertaining to a breakfast taken early in the morning, or immediately on getting up.

Early 1700s: A learned borrowing from Latin iēntāculum (breakfast (especially one taken immediately upon rising)), the construct made by appending the English suffix –ar (of, near, or pertaining to (used to form adjectives)).  The construct of iēntāculum (genitive iēntāculī) was ientō (I breakfast), a variant of ieientō (to have breakfast), from ieiūnus (fasting, abstinent, hungry), from ientare the primitive Indo-European hyag (to sacrifice; to worship) + -culum (the diminutive suffix), from –culu, a re-bracketing of the diminutive suffix -lus on nouns ending in –cus.  Jentacular is an adjective.  Authors (presumably of literary novels) wanting a noun could use the Latin jentaculum (jēntāculum), an alternative form of ientaculum, the construct being iēntō (I breakfast) +‎ -culum (a suffix used to form nouns derived from verbs, notably nouns representing tools and instruments).

The Late Latin jēntāculum (I breakfast) reflects the post-Classical changes to spelling in Latin, a highly technical array of changes which happened over hundreds of years in the Middle Ages and was concerned with rendering a pattern of spelling more aligned with actual pronunciation and one change was that jēntāculum replaced the Classical Latin iēntāculum.  In Classical Latin, it was ientare.  In modern writing, the consonant "i" is distinguished from the vowel "i" by using the extended version of the letter "j" for the former, just the vowel form of "v" is distinguished from the consonant form by writing the cursive form "u" for the former.  In the modern alphabet, they’ve long officially been different letters, and they sound much more different in English.  However, in Latin, ientare (strictly speaking IENTARE since half-uncials didn’t then exist)) was pronounced yen-ta-reh and it was this which inspired medieval scholars to decide the written should pay greater tribute to the spoken.  Because in Classical Latin representing the consonant “j” was usually not doubled in writing, a single “i” represented a double “j”; medieval scholars thought a simple approach preferable, much as the Americans corrected many needless redundancies in English (color vs colour; catalog vs catalogue etc).

A jentacular pair: Jane Fonda (b 1937) and Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) taking breakfast, Georgia Rule (2007).

Jentacular enjoyed a vogue in the eighteenth and nineteenth century among those who liked to add the odd "learned" flourish to their writing but most dictionaries now describe it as obscure, rare or obsolete.  Indeed, its most frequent appearance now appears to be on lists of unusual words but it still attracts those who like such things, some of whom complicate it further with constructs like post-jentacular, following the English philosopher (most associated with utilitarianism) and jurist Jeremy Bentham (1748-1832)  who would write of the “ante-jentacular” and “post-prandial” walks he took in his garden.  Despite the Benthamite endorsement, jentacular seems effectively defunct, the English-speaking world taking the view "breakfast" needs no adjective, the occasional instance of breakfasty never catching on, presumably because the ungainly English construction was worse than the anyway unwanted though elegant Latinate form. The word "breakfast" dates from 1463 and is one of the language’s less etymologically challenging coinings, meaning obviously a meal which "breaks" the overnight "fast" and  Australians, as would be expected, came up with "brekkie", a style of diminutive obligatory among certain classes.  Civilised peoples like the Italians and French seem always to have managed to enjoy breakfast but for the English it’s been often depicted as a chore.  Percy Bysshe Shelley’s (1792–1822) poem Peter Bell the Third by Miching Mallecho, Esq (composed circa 1820 but not published until 1839) clearly preferred the dinner and late-night suppers to anything jentacular:

And all these meet at levees; --
  Dinners convivial and political; --
Suppers of epic poets; -- teas,
Where small talk dies in agonies; --
  Breakfasts professional and critical;

Perhaps that was because the taking of strong drink was something more associated with dinner than breakfast, even among the Romantic poets.

Jentacular thinspiration: A recommended pro-ana breakfast.

Peccant

Peccant (pronounced pek-uhnt)

(1) Sinning; corrupt; guilty of a moral offense.

(2) Violating a rule, principle, or established practice; faulty; wrong.

(3) Producing disease; morbid (archaic).

1595–1605: From the Latin peccantis & peccant- (stem of peccāns), present participle of peccāre (to sin, to err, offend).  The Latin peccāns was the present participle of peccō, from the primitive Indo-European verbal root ped- (to walk, fall, stumble) and related to pṓds, the same source as the Hittite pata, the Latin pēs & pedis, the Tocharian A pe, the Tocharian B paiyye, the Lithuanian pāda (sole (foot)), the Russian под (pod) (ground), the Ancient Greek πούς & ποδός (poús & podós), the Albanian shputë (palm, foot sole), the Old Armenian ոտն (otn) and the Sanskrit पद् (pád)).  Derived forms include the nouns peccancy & peccantness and the adverb peccantly.  Also related in English is the familiar impeccable and the almost unknown peccable.

Peccant Pathogens: SARS-CoV-2 which causes the disease COVID-19, is thought to have jumped from bats to humans via an as yet unknown species.  The transmissibility, morbidity and mortality rate in humans is a product of the interaction of the SARS-CoV-2 virus with the three species.  Despite the popular association, there was never any proof of casual connection between eating bat soup and contracting COVID-19.

Bastard

Bastard (pronounced bas-terd, br-sted, or bar-stad)

(1) A person born of unmarried parents; an illegitimate child (technically gender-neutral but historically applied almost exclusively to males).  Use is now mostly in a historic context.

(2) In slang as a term of disparagement, a vicious, despicable, or thoroughly disliked person.

(3) In slang, an expression of sympathy for a man who has suffered in some way (unlucky bastard, poor bastard etc).

(4) In slang, an expression used of someone who has been fortunate (lucky bastard).

(5) In jocular slang, a term of endearment (chiefly Australia & New Zealand).

(6) Something fake, phony, irregular, inferior, spurious, or unusual; of abnormal or irregular shape; of unusual make or proportions (now rare).

(7) In engineering, politics, architecture etc, something which is a mixture of inputs as opposed to pure versions.

(8) In metalworking & woodworking, a type of file.

(9) In informal use an extremely difficult or unpleasant job or task.

(10) In animal breeding, a mongrel (biological cross between different breeds, groups or varieties) (now rare).

(11) A sword midway in length between a short-sword and a long sword.

(12) In sugar refining, (1) an inferior quality of soft brown sugar, obtained from syrups that have been boiled several times or (2) a large mold for straining sugar.

(13) A very sweet fortified wine, often with spices added.

(14) In commercial printing, paper not of a standard size.

(15) In theater lighting, one predominant color blended with small amounts of complementary color; used to replicate natural light because of their warmer appearance.

(16) In theology, a heretic or sinner; one separated from one's deity (archaic).

(17) In biology, a botanical tendril or offshoot (rare and used only in the technical literature).

(18) In linguistics, any change or neologism in language that is viewed as a degradation.

1250–1300: From the Middle English bastarde, basterd & bastart, from the Anglo-Norman bastard (illegitimate child), from the eleventh century Medieval Latin bastardus of unknown origin but perhaps from the Germanic (Ingvaeonic) bāst- (related to the Middle Dutch bast (lust, heat)), a presumed variant of bōst- (marriage) + the derogatory Old French –ard (the pejorative agent noun suffix), taken as signifying the offspring of a polygynous marriage to a woman of lower status (ie the acknowledged child of a nobleman by a woman other than his wife), a pagan Germanic custom not sanctioned by the Christian church.  The Old Frisian boask, boaste & bost (marriage) was from the proto-Germanic bandstu- & banstuz (bond, tie), a noun derivative of the Indo-European bhendh (to tie, bind).  It was cognate with the French bâtard (bastard), the West Frisian bastert (bastard), the Dutch bastaard (bastard), the German Bastard (bastard) and the Icelandic bastarður (bastard).  Etymologists caution that charming as it is, the traditional explanation of Old French bastard as derivative of fils de bast (literally “child of a packsaddle”, the source of this the idea of a child conceived on an improvised bed (medieval saddles often doubled as beds while traveling)) is dubious on chronological and geographical grounds.  The Medieval Latin Bastum (packsaddle) is of uncertain origin.  One etymologist noted that while the origin of bantling (a young child known or believed to be "a bastard") was uncertain, it could be from the German Bänkling (bastard-child) which was from the Luxembourgish Bänk, from the Middle High German and Old High German bank, from the Proto-West Germanic banki, from Proto-Germanic bankiz (and cognate with the German Bank, Dutch bank, English bench, Swedish bänk and Icelandic bekkur.  The alleged link with bastard offspring is that conception took place on "a bank" rather than in a bed where responsible & respectable folk did such things.

In pre-modern Europe, being born to unmarried parents was not always regarded as a stigma although the Church in canon law prohibited bastards from holding clerical office without an explicit papal indult.  Royalty and the aristocracy, famously prolific in the production of bastards, seemed often unconcerned, Norman duke William, the Conqueror of England, is referred to in state documents as "William the Bastard" and one Burgundian prince was even officially styled “Great Bastard of Burgundy”.  From this, came the idea of something bastardized being associated with the creation of an inferior copy or version of something, hence the sense of corruption, degradation or debasement, hence the association with words like counterfeit, fake, imperfect, irregular, mongrel, phony, sham, adulterated, baseborn, false, impure, misbegotten, mixed & spurious, the adjectival form common by the late fourteenth century.  However, the word eventually became used to describe things deliberately designed to be variations of something, typically between two established types.  Thus emerged bastard agrimony, the bastard alkanet, bastard bar, bastard hartebeest, bastard file, bastard hemp, bastard hogberry, bastard pennyroyal, bastard pimpernel, bastard quiver tree, bastard tallow-wood, bastard tamarind, bastard teak, bastard musket, bastard culverin, bastard gemsbok, bastard mahogany, bastard toadflax, bastard trumpeter, bastard cut, bastard eigne & bastard amber.

Variations of the word existed in many languages including the Scots bastart & bastert, the French bâtard, the Old French bastardus, the Galician bastardo, the Middle Dutch bastaert, the Dutch bastaard, the Italian bastardo, the Late Latin bastardus, the Indonesian bastar, the Saramaccan bása, the Sranan Tongo basra, the Middle English bastard, bastarde, basterd & bastart.  Use as a generic vulgar term of abuse for a man appears to date from circa 1830 although presumably it may have be slanderously applied in the past.  The early fourteenth century noun bastardy (condition of illegitimacy) was from the Anglo-French and Old French bastardie and appears from the 1570s in contemporary documents in the sense of "begetting of bastards, fornication".  The early seventeenth century verb bastardize meant "to identify as a bastard", predated by the figurative sense, "to make degenerate, debase" which dates from the 1580s, probably because bastard since the 1540s had also served as a verb meaning "to declare illegitimate".  The later use of bastardize, bastardized, bastardizing & bastardization to mean “rituals and activities involving harassment, abuse or humiliation as a way of initiating a person into a group or organization” was associated with the military, crime gangs and university fraternities, (ie structures where the membership is predominately made up of males aged 17-25.  The terms hazing, initiation, ragging & deposition were synonymous and all began as regionally-specific but soon tended towards the internationalism which marks modern English.  The once useful phrase “political bastardry” is still seen but is now rare, a victim of association; as children born out of wedlock are now no longer described as bastards, the word is also being banished from some other contexts, including political discourse which is also losing many gender-loaded expressions.  Notable bastards include Confucius (circa 551-479 BC), William the Conqueror (circa 1028-1087), Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), Thomas Paine (1737-1809), Lawrence of Arabia (1888-1935), John Gorton (1911-2002), Eva Peron (1919-1952), Fidel Castro (1926-2016) & Marilyn Monroe (1926–1962). 

The bastard file.

A bastard file is a half-round file.  It gained the name from being rendered with an intermediate cut, neither very coarse nor very fine and was thus neither one thing nor the other; it was something impure.  The concept of things in engineering, architecture, literature et al being thought bastardized versions if in any way hybrids or deviations from established forms can apply also to proper nouns.  Bob Cunis (1941-2008) was a New Zealand cricketer described as a “medium pace bowler” which may have been generous; he also extracted little movement from the ball and certainly wasn’t a spinner.  Still, between 1964-1972 he played in 20 test matches and coached the national side for three seasons in the late 1980s.  His contribution to the list of linguistic amusements came when BBC Radio commentator John Arlott (1914-1991), unimpressed by the bowler’s pedestrian deliveries commented: “Cunis, a funny sort of name, like his bowling, neither one thing nor the other."  It passed into the sporting annals but may have be plagiarized, apparently appearing in an earlier newspaper report on a match the tourists played against a county side and Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) had sometime before 1952 used the line after learning the name of a member of parliament was Alfred Bossom (1881–1965).

Plenipotentiary

Plenipotentiary (pronounced plen-uh-puh-ten-shee-er-ee or plen-uh-puh-ten-shuh-ree)

(1) A person, especially a diplomatic envoy, invested with full power or authority to transact business on behalf of another.

(2) Invested with full power or authority, as a diplomatic agent; conferring or bestowing full power, as a commission.

(3) Of power or authority, full; absolute

1635-1645: From the French plénipotentiaire, from the Medieval Latin plēnipotentiārius (invested with, having, or bestowing full power(s)) from the Late Latin plēnipotēns, a construct from plēnus (full) +‎ potēns (mighty, powerful) + -ārius (the Latin suffix forming personal nouns corresponding to adjectives).  The primitive Indo-European root was pele-(to fill).  The noun plural is plenipotentiaries.

After the Congress

Historically, a plenipotentiary was a diplomat (or other envoy appointed for some purpose) authorized fully to represent a government and empowered to enter into binding agreements within the terms of reference of their appointment.  Sometime in the twentieth century (it varied with the geography), technological advances rendered diplomatic plenipotentiaries mostly redundant and, outside of the formal language of diplomacy, use as a noun is now rare, and when used, generally refers to any individual with "full powers" in some sense.  The adjectival sense describes something which confers "full powers", such as an edict or assignment.

Anton Alexander von Werner (1843–1915), Congress of Berlin (1881), oil on canvas painting of plenipotentiaries, final meeting at the Reich Chancellery, 13 July 1878.

Prior to the mid-nineteenth century, any form of communication between a diplomat and their government could take literally months and, even in a relatively small and well-connected space like Europe, an exchange of messages could take days.  Ambassadors and other diplomats were thus often granted full (plenipotentiary) powers to represent their government in negotiations with their host nation.  It was the Congress of Vienna (1814–1815), which codified most aspects of the diplomatic relationships between countries and from that point, the ambassador evolved to become the usual title for chiefs of mission (there are exceptions such as within the Commonwealth where the old British Empire title of High Commissioner is retained and the Holy See which appoints papal nuncios).  Generally though, the protocols of the Congress of Vienna continue to be used and ambassadors are still designated and accredited as extraordinary and plenipotentiary, even though technically typically now neither.

Unusually for a word adopted by English, foreign translators rate it difficult to translate.  That’s interesting because essentially the same word exists in a number of Romance languages (the Portuguese plenipotenciário; the French plénipotentiaire; the Romanian plenipotențiar; the Spanish plenipotenciario & the Italian plenipotenziario) with exactly the same meaning.  The Albanian plotfuqishëm sounds similar although it has native roots but other languages have their own equivalents (the German Bevollmächtigt(er), the Dutch gevolmachtigd(e), the Danish fuldmægtig, the Swedish fullmäktig, the Norwegian fullmektig (all Germanic derivatives which are literal parallels).  In the Balkans, there was the Serbian punomoćan (пуномоћан in Cyrillic), the Russian полномочный (полный (full) + мочь (to be in power, to be able)), the Czech zplnomocněný (plno (full) + moc (power)), the Slovak splnomocnený (plno (full) + moc (power)) & the Slovenian pooblaščeni (adjective) & pooblaščênec (noun).  Elsewhere, there was the Polish pełnomocnik (pełno (of full) + moc (power)), the Bulgarian пълномощен (pǎlnomošten), the Finnish täysivaltainen, the Greek πληρεξούσιος (plirexoúsios), the Turkish tam yetkili & the Tatar wäqälätle.

Acropolis

Acropolis (pronounced uh-krop-uh-lis)

(1) A citadel or high fortified area in an ancient Greek city.

(2) The Acropolis, the citadel of Athens on which the Parthenon, the Erechtheum and other structures stand.

1655-1665: From the Ancient Greek Ἀκρόπολις (Akrópolis) (Acropolis), the construct being ἄκρος (ákros) (highest; tip; topmost; summit; elevated part of a Greek city) + πόλις (pólis) (city).  The primitive Indo-European root was ak- (be sharp, rise (out) to a point, pierce) + polis (city), the plural being acropoles.  The Latinized was acro + polis and the plural form either acropolises or acropoleis.  Acropolis is a proper noun and acropolitan is an adjective; the noun plural is acropolises or acropoleis.

The ruin which overlooks Athens is often referred to as “the Acropolis” but that word actually describes the high hill on which the building sits.  An acropolis was an elevated promontory (usually fortified with a citadel) which formed the hub of many cities in Antiquity, a layout chosen because possession of the high-ground is a classic maxim of military planning when constructing a defensive position.  The ancient temple is correctly called the Parthenon although the term “The Acropolis of Athens” remains common.  It’s now a UNESCO World Heritage site.

The site of a number of previously-built temples, the Parthenon was built during the rule of Pericles (circa 495-429 BC) in the Golden Age of Athens (460-430 BC).  Construction took some fifty years and Pericles didn’t live to see it finished and although dominated by the main structure, the acropolis is actually the site of a number of temples and statues.  The Parthenon has been re-purposed over the centuries as power and territorial possession changed.  It’s been a pagan temple, a Christian Church, a residence for Episcopalian clergy, a Mosque, a grain store, a barracks and a munitions powder munitions depot and it was while being used for this latter purpose that the greatest damage in a thousand years was caused.  In a 1687 Venetian siege during the Morean War (1684-1689), the gunpowder magazine suffered a direct hit from an artillery shot and a massive explosion ensued, destroying most of the temple’s internal structure.

It’s from the Parthenon that in 1801, the seventh Earl of Elgin (Thomas Bruce, 1766-1841) removed many of the sculptures, later selling them to the British Museum where a number remain, known as The Elgin Marbles.  Their continued presence in the UK has been a source of dispute between the British and Greek governments for over a century.  The position in London has always been they were a lawful purchase, approved in writing by the local representative of the ruling power in Constantinople.  The view in Athens is they are looted art treasures which should be returned; the Greek Government insisting they should be called The Parthenon Marbles.  The marbles still in Greek hands are on display at the Acropolis Museum in Athens, the display space designed to accommodate those now in London.

The Parthenon, Centennial Park, Nashville, Tennessee.

Designed by architect William Crawford Smith (1837–1899), the Parthenon which stands in Centennial Park, Nashville, Tennessee, was built in 1897 as part of the Tennessee Centennial Exposition.  A full-scale reproduction of the original, it's now an art museum and in the Treasury Room are displayed plaster replicas of the Parthenon Marbles, cast from the original sculptures.  In the nineteenth century, Nashville was one of a number of cities around the world often styled "the Athens of the South" and this doubtless had some influence on the choice of the building as the exposition's centrepiece but while some of the other structures erected for the event were in the style of buildings from antiquity, the Parthenon was the only one to use exact dimensions.

The 1897 structure was intended to last only for the duration of the exposition and was thus built with plaster, wood & brick but such was the local support for its retention it was left standing, soon beginning to deteriorate.  By 1920 however it was a noted tourist attraction and had become accepted as a feature of the city so, on the same foundations, it was rebuilt in concrete, the project completed in 1931.  Concrete however doesn't possess the same qualities of durability as granite and marble so for the replica to maintain its appearance and structural integrity, progressive replacements of components will be required, engineers noting the essentially modular nature of the construction means it may never need wholly to be re-built.

Down the hill from the Acropolis, two and a half-thousand years later: Club Lohan, Iera Odos 30-32, Athens, Greece.