Signature

Signature (pronounced sig-nuh-cher or sig-nuh-choor)

(1) A person's name, or a mark representing it, as signed personally or by deputy, as in subscribing a letter or other document.

(2) The act of signing a document.

(3) In music, a sign or set of signs at the beginning of a staff to indicate the key or the time of a piece.

(4) In broadcasting, a song, musical arrangement, sound effect, etc., used as a theme identifying a program.

(5) Any unique, distinguishing aspect, feature, or mark.

(6) In computing, as digital signature, any one of a number of attempts to create a mechanism whereby a digital object can have the same unique identifying characteristic as a physical signature in ink; in cryptography, data attached to a message certifying the message originated from its claimed source; in email and some other variations of communication, test, images or other objects collectively appended usually at the end of a message, analogous with a traditional signature on a letter.

(7) In digital forensic analysis, as digital signature, a term used to refer to any collection of characteristics which can be used as an identifier of origin, intent etc;

(8) The part of a prescription for pharmaceuticals instructing the patient the frequency and quantity in which a drug should be administered (US only).

(9) As an adjective, something intended to be emblematic of an institution or individual (signature dish signature cocktail, signature scent etc).

(10) In printing, a sheet of paper printed with several pages that upon folding will become a section or sections of a book; such a sheet so folded.

(11) In mathematics, a tuple specifying the sign of coefficients in any diagonal form of a quadratic form.

(12) In medicine, a resemblance between the external character of a disease and those of some physical agent (obsolete).

1525-1535: From the Old & Middle French signature, from the Medieval Latin signātura, future active periphrastic of the verb signāre (to sign), the construct being signum (sign), + -tura, feminine of -turus, the future active periphrastic suffix.  The first use with a link to English appears to have been as a kind of document defined in Scottish law.  The Medieval Latin signatura, was, in Classical Latin a rescript (the matrix of a seal).  The meaning "one's own name written in one's own hand" is from 1570s, which replaced the early-fifteenth century “sign-manual” in this sense.  The use in musical notation in which composers used "signs placed it the beginning of a staff to indicate the key and rhythm" was noted first in 1806.  Signature began to be used in the generalized sense of "a distinguishing mark of any kind" as early as the 1620s.

Non est factum

Historically, in contract law a signature was binding on the party who signed and obliged the performance of the specific terms of the contract.  Even if someone could prove they signed because of their own misunderstandings or in an act of carelessness even to the point of gross negligence, courts would still usually enforce the contract but a notable exception was the doctrine of non est factum.  Translated literally from the Latin as "it is not my deed", it’s available as a defense where a person has been induced to sign something in circumstances where the contents of what was signed differ fundamentally from what the person was led to believe.  Where a plea is upheld, the court can set aside the contract (void ab initio).  Special circumstances must exist for the defense to succeed: it does not cover a claim where someone either misunderstood or failed to read the terms and conditions.

An octuple of Lindsay Lohan signatures on Lohanic merchandise. 

It’s novel in that it differs from other aspects of contract law such as the provisions which permit judges to strike-out particular clauses or even entire contracts if their enforcement is held to be “unconscionable”.  Non est factum is available even where terms and conditions can be reasonable such as the sale of a property for fair value; it hinges instead on the state of mind of the signee and the circumstances under which a signature was induced.  Typically, courts are most sympathetic to “innocent victims”, those who through no fault of their own (those illiterate, deaf, blind or suffering some other relevant incapacity) could not understand the document they were signing and relied upon another for advice.  Such is the reverence in contract law for the sanctity of the signature, a heavy evidential onus of proof is laid upon a claimant for non est factum to succeed; it’s a rare and exceptional defense.

The signature dish

Noted chefs and great restaurants often have signature dishes, not necessarily unique to them but something with which they’re famously associated.  Countries and regions also have signature dishes, sometimes advertised and promoted and sometimes just a link which develops over time.  There can even be disputes if the origin of something is thought a source of pride; there are factions in both Australia and New Zealand which lay claim to the pavlova. 

Minnesota Hotdish.

Despite the name, the concept of the Minnesota’s signature hotdish didn’t originate there and, with variations, is popular across the Upper Midwest region of the United States.  As a dish, such is the simplicity in preparation and adaptability in content that something recognizably close has probably been a feature of human cuisine for as long as the technical means of production has been available.  Anything of the hotdish type contains usually a starch, a meat, canned or frozen vegetables with canned soup as the binding agent; cooked in the one flat dish, it’s served heated.  The distinguishing characteristic of the classic Minnesota hotdish is the use of mushroom soup but beyond that, there’s much variation, inventiveness encouraged by the many hotdish completions in the region.  As well as the traditional beef base, tuna, turkey and chicken are used, pasta is often replaced by rice or potatoes and vegetarian versions have appeared.  The critical aspect seems to be the texture, while a Minnesota hotdish won’t entirely maintain the shape when sliced, it should have sufficient integrity for the potatoes or breadcrumbs to stay atop and not sink into the mix.

Hubert Humphrey, Cardinal Terence Cooke (1921–1983; Archbishop of New York 1968-1983) President Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1963-1969) & Richard Nixon, twenty-third Alfred E Smith dinner, New York, 16 October 1968.  Cardinal Cooke was a less controversial figure than his predecessor (Cardinal Francis Spellman (1889–1967; prelate of the US Catholic Church & Archbishop of New York 1939-1967)).

Hubert Horatio Humphrey (1911–1978) served as a senator for Minnesota (1949-1964 & 1971-1978) and as US vice president (1965-1969).  He was the Democrat Party’s nominee for president in 1968, his candidature something of a rush-job after LBJ's abrupt decision not to seek re-election.  As part of the 1968 campaign, his wife’s Minnesota hotdish recipe was published, unusual today in that it didn’t include the potato gems which usually now sit atop the concoction.  Mrs Humphrey’s culinary campaign contribution wasn’t decisive, her husband, although running Republican Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) close in the popular vote (Nixon (31,783,783 votes; 43.4%), Humphrey (31,271,839; 42.7%)), lost the electoral college (Nixon, 32 states & 301 votes, Humphrey 13 states & 191 votes).

Mrs Humphrey’s Ingredients

4 tablespoons shortening
2 green bell peppers, sliced
1 medium onion, chopped
1 lb (500 g) ground beef
1½ half teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
2 eggs
2 cups whole kernel corn
4 medium tomatoes, sliced
½ cup dry bread crumbs
Butter

Mrs Humphrey’s Instructions

(1) Put shortening in skillet; lightly fry green peppers, onion and ground beef for 3 minutes or until partially done. Salt and pepper. Remove from heat; stir in eggs and mix well.

(2) Place 1 cup corn in casserole. Top with layer of meat mixture and layer of sliced tomatoes.

(3) Repeat until corn, meat mixture and tomatoes are used.

(4) Cover casserole with crumbs. Dot with bits of butter.

(5) Bake at 375º F (190º C) for 1 hour or until heated thoroughly.

It can be finished in a grill to add something to the cheese.  Serve with a side salad and rolls.

Hitler's signature

Becoming tremulous: Hitler’s signature: 1933-1945.

Between 1943-1945, Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) handwriting suffered and, towards the end, it took some effort even to etch his name, a process which happened in conjunction with a physical decline noted in many contemporary accounts.  The reason for this deterioration has been discussed by doctors, historians and popular authors, most recently in 2015 by Norman Ohler (b 1970) in Der totale Rausch: Drogen im Dritten Reich (The Total Rush: Drugs in the Third Reich), published in English in 2017 as Blitzed: Drugs in Nazi Germany (Penguin, ISBN: 9780141983165).  Blitzed is a study of the use of methamphetamine stimulants in German society, the military and Hitler himself during the Nazi years with a focus especially on the relationship between the Führer and his personal physician, Dr Theodor Morell (1886–1948) who prescribed and administered a variety of drugs and vitamins between 1936-1945.  It’s the use of opioids and psychoactive drugs that is of most interest.

A best seller, Ohler wrote a lively work in a jaunty style which made his book readable but did attract criticism from the academic and professional historians never happy with journalistic trespassing on their carefully trimmed turf.  While there’s always sensitivity to authors injecting elements of humour and pop-culture references into anything about Hitler and the Third Reich, these essentially stylistic objections matter less than the substantive concerns about presenting as proven fact inferences drawn from incomplete or inconclusive sources.  That critique of scholarship should be noted but Blitzed needs to be read as just another text interpreting the documents of the era and in that, if read in conjunction with other accounts of the time, Ohler’s thesis is in places compelling while sometimes contradicted by multiple other sources.  The argument that the drugs had no effect Hitler’s decline and increasingly erratic behavior were due to stress and the onset of Parkinson’s disease is as dogmatic a position as many accuse Ohler of taking.  There are interesting aspects in the accounts from 1943-1945: the unexpected way Hitler’s physical tremors briefly vanished in the aftermath of the explosion during the assassination attempt in July 1944 and the various clandestine analysis of Morell’s preparations, some of which revealed a strong opioid and some harmless concoctions with barely a pharmacological effect.  While clearly not a conventional work of history, Blitzed seems a valuable contribution.

Patient & doctor: Hitler and Dr Morell.

The fault in Blitzed is probably that habitual journalistic tendency to exaggeration.  That stimulants were widely available and demonstratively popular in Germany doesn’t mean the entire workforce, every hausfrau and all servicemen in the Wehrmacht were habitual or even occasional users of amphetamines although, given the documentary evidence and the observational accounts of behavior, the case for Hitler’s addictions (or at least dependence) is stronger.  Critics felt also compelled to run the usual objection to anything which could be constructed as some sort of exculpatory argument; the idea that being stupefied by psychoactive drugs could somehow absolve individual or collective guilt.  Among those who lived the Nazi experience, long has been established the guilt to one degree or another of the many and the innocence of a few.  That said, there seems little doubt the rapidity of the Wehrmacht's advances in 1939-1941 were at least partially attributable to the soldiers being supplied amphetamines which enabled a heightened level of alertness and performance for sometimes thirty hours without need for sleep.  It was a most effective force multiplier.  Other factors, notably (1) the revolutionary approach to deploying tanks as armored spearheads, (2) the used of dive-bombers, (3) the ineptness of the Allied response and (4) luck were more significance but the speed did make a contribution.

Aphorism

Aphorism (pronounced af-uh-riz-uhm)

An original, laconic phrase conveying some principle or concept of thought.

1520s: From the late Middle English aphorism (concise statement of a principle (especially in reference to the Aphorisms of Hippocrates)), from the Middle French aphorisme, from the (mistaken) fourteenth century Old French aufforisme, from the Late Latin aphorismus (definition), from the Ancient Greek ἀφορισμός (aphorismós) (definition; short, pithy sentence containing a general truth), from aphorizein (to mark off, divide), from from ἀφορίζω (aphorízō) (I define, mark off or determine), the construct being ἀπό (apó) (off) + ὁρίζω (horízō) (I divide, bound), from ὅρος (hóros) (boundary) (from which English gained horizon). Aphorism is a noun & verb, aphorist is a noun, aphorismic & aphorismatic are adjectives and aphoristically is an adverb; the noun plural is aphorisms.

The idea of the aphorism as a “short, pithy statement containing a truth of general application” gained currency in English from the 1580s.  Despite the long history, some confusion seems always to accompany aphorisms, axioms, theories, epigrams and maxims.  An aphorism is a short, pithy statement containing a truth of general import; an axiom is a statement of self-evident truth; a theorem is a demonstrable proposition in science or mathematics; an epigram is like an aphorism, but lacking a generalized application.  Maxim can be often used as a synonym for aphorism while saying applies to just about any generally used piece of text.

Hippocrate refusant les présents d'Artaxerxès (1792), oil on canvas by Anne-Louis Girodet-Trioson (1767–1824), Museum of the History of Medicine, Paris.

The word became widely known in the sixteenth century when a translation was published of the Hippocratic Corpus (the Hippocratic Collection), a compilation of some dozens of medical texts with some association with the physician Hippocrates (circa 460–370 BC), the sayings remembered as the Aphorisms of Hippocrates, a series of propositions about medicine.  His opening aphorism (which flavors the whole) was:  Life is short, art long, opportunity fleeting, experience deceptive, judgment difficult.

Handy Aphorisms

The second half of a man’s life is made up of nothing, but the habits he has accumulated during the first half.  Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821–1881)

Man must be disciplined, for he is by nature raw and wild.  Immanuel Kant (1724–1804)

The more I know the nature of men, the more I seek the company of dogs.  Frederick the Great (1712–1786)

In the natural state of nature, the life of man will be nasty, solitary, brutish and short.  Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679)

For everything you do, there’s a price to be paid.  Epictetus (circa 50–135 AD)

The nice thing about being a celebrity is that when you bore people, they think it`s their fault.  Henry Kissinger (b 1923)

The first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him.  Niccolò Machiavelli (1469–1527)

The more I see the face of the German cavalry officer, the more I admire his horse.  Ferdinand Foch (1851–1929)

We mustn't count our chickens before they're hatched.  Adolf Hitler (1889-1945)

There are no eternal facts, as there are no absolute truths.  Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900)

I'm my own worst enemy and I know that.  I live without regrets. When someone tells me not to do something, I'll do it more.  There are certain things I have done, mistakes that I made, that I would change, but I don't regret them at all, because I've learnt from them.  Lindsay Lohan (b 1986)

When you say that you agree with a thing in principle you mean that you have not the slightest intention of carrying it out in practice.  Otto von Bismarck (1815-1898)

To know the character of a man of forty, look at the world he knew when he was twenty.  Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821)

Don’t worry about avoiding temptation... as you grow older, it will avoid you.  Winston Churchill (1875-1965)

Virago

Virago (pronounced vi-rah-goh (U) or vi-rey-goh (non-U))

(1) A loud-voiced, ill-tempered, scolding woman; shrew.

(2) A woman of strength or spirit; strong, brave, or warlike; an amazon.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English from the Old English, from the Latin virāgō (man-like maiden (in the sense of "female warrior, heroine, amazon"), the construct being vir (man) (from the primitive Indo-European root wi-ro (man)) + -āgō (the Latin suffix expressing association of some kind, in this case resemblance).  By the late fourteenth century, the meaning had absorbed the additional meaning of "heroic woman, woman of extraordinary stature, strength and courage" the sense again from the Latin vir (from which is derived virile) rather than being masculine in appearance.  The adjectival sense viraginous is now rare; virago-like the preferred form.

English gained the word from Ælfric of Eynsham (circa 995-circa 1010; Ælfrīc the Old English, his name rendered also in the Medieval Latin as Alfricus or Elphricus) an English abbot who proved the most prolific writer in Old English of biblical scholarship, devotional hagiography, homilies and notes on Church law.  Between 990-994, following the structures of the Vulgate Bible, he constructed The Homilies of Ælfric (also published as The Sermones Catholici), translating the Pentateuch and Joshua in 997-998, providing what was then a modern gloss of the name Adam gave to Eve in Genesis II:23: Beo hire nama Uirago, þæt is, fæmne, forðan ðe heo is of hire were genumen (Let her name be Virago, that is woman, because she is taken from man) which is rendered (Genesis II 21:23) in the more familiar King James Version (KJV (1611)) as:

21: And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof;

22: And the rib, which the Lord God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.

23: And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.

In Antiquity, virago had positive associations, the implication being that a woman who proved herself especially strong or valorous could be called a virago because she had proved herself somehow as worthy as a man (something like the "honorary white" status the Apartheid regime in South Africa would grant Maori members of touring All Black rugby teams).  The idea is acknowledged in modern dictionaries which usually contain and entry in the spirit of "a woman noted for her stature, strength and courage" but add also "a woman thought loud or overbearing; a shrew" and linguists note the latter definition is now the one most followed, the word long applied in the negative although the Royal Navy sticks to the classics, the Admiralty having named several warships HMS Virago.

Viraginous, one way or another: Lindsay Lohan lights up (The Canyons (2013)).

The Virago Book of Witches (2022 ISBN-13: 9780349016986) by Shahrukh Husain (b 1950).

Established by Australian Dame Carmen Callil (1938–2022) in 1972-1973 (originally under the name Spare Rib Books, the name borrowed from a magazine associated with second-wave feminism), Virago Press was created to focus on the work of women authors or work which focused on aspects of women’s experience ignored by most (mostly male) historians.  Dame Carmen probably had the classical meaning of virago in mind but it’s suspected she also didn’t object to notions of assertiveness or outright bolshieness.  Virago had an undisguised political agenda but, unlike many of the aggregations in the field which over decades had come and gone, it was always structured as a conventional publishing house, run on much the same commercial basis as other imprints.  From the start there was a focus of new work but the creation of a list was assisted greatly by what turned out to be an the extraordinary back-catalog of out-of-print books by neglected female writers, these issued under Virago’s "Modern Classics" insignia and trawling the records from the 1930s and 1940s provided a rich vein of neglected fiction by women.  Publishing is an unforgiving, cutthroat business and Virago has over the decades shunted between various corporations and is currently part of the French publishing conglomerate Hachette Livre, its output still prolific.

Marie Antoinette (1755–1793) in a Chemise Dress (with virago sleeves) (1783) by Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (1755–1842).

Known since the late 1160s, virago sleeves became fashionable for women early in the seventeenth century.  Seamstresses describe the construction as "full-paned" or "full-pansied" (ie made of strips of fabric gathered into two puffs by a ribbon or fabric band above the elbow).  The adoption of the name virago is thought an allusion to armor may have worn in combat to assist them in the slaughter of men. 

Legging

Legging (pronounced leg-ing)

(1) A covering for the leg, usually extending from the ankle to the knee but sometimes higher, worn by soldiers, riders, workers, etc. 

(2) The pants of a two-piece snowsuit.

(3) In the plural, as leggings, (1) close-fitting trousers worn by mostly by women and girls (as fashion items) & (2) close fitting trousers worn as support in sporting competitions.

(4) In slang, as “legging it”, (1) to proceed somewhere by foot or (2) to proceed somewhere by any means with some alacrity, a variation of the latter being “shake a leg”.

1745–1755: The construct was leg(g) + -ing (the more illustrative alternative spelling being leggin (leg(g) + in).  The noun leg was from the Middle English leg & legge, from the Old Norse leggr (leg, calf, bone of the arm or leg, hollow tube, stalk), from the Proto-Germanic lagjaz & lagwijaz (leg, thigh) which may have been from the primitive Indo-European (ǝ)lak- or lēk- (leg; the main muscle of the arm or leg).  It was cognate with the Scots leg (leg), the Icelandic leggur (leg, limb), the Norwegian Bokmål legg (leg), the Norwegian Nynorsk legg (leg), the Swedish Swedish lägg (leg, shank, shaft), the Danish læg (leg), the Lombardic lagi (thigh, shank, leg), the Latin lacertus (limb, arm) and the Persian لنگ‎ (leng).  It almost wholly displaced the native Old English sċanca (from which Modern English gained shank) which may have been from a root meaning “crooked”.  The origin of the Germanic forms remains uncertain and the Old Norse senses may be compared with Bein (“leg” in German) which in the Old High German meant "bone, leg".

A pair of lappet-faced vultures.  Native to parts of Africa and the Arabian Peninsula, there's no evidence the lappet-faced vulture (Nubian vulture (Torgos tracheliotos)) influenced the development of the early leggings.

The slang use is derived from the circa 1500 verb which from the start was usually in the form “leg it”, meaning “proceed on foot by walking or running”.  The meaning "part of pants which cover the leg" is from 1570s and by the 1870s as an adjective it had a acquired the salacious hint of artistic displays focused on the female form with most of the leg exposed.  In the jargon of the theatre, leg-business was slang for "dance; ballet."  The idea of a leg as "a part or stage of a journey or race" dates only from 1920 and was based on the earlier sense (from 1865) applied to sailing ships which meant "a run made by a ship on a single tack when beating to windward" which sailors defined as long leg or short leg, the notion being the leg ending when the direction had to be altered.  The theatre slang “shake a leg” by 1869 meant “dance” and this by 1800 spread to the general population where it meant "hurry up".  To be “on (one's) last legs” meant “close to death”, the earliest known instance in print being from the 1590s.  To take “leg bail” was late eighteenth century underworld and legal slang for "run away" in the sense either of escaping from apprehension or not appearing in court as summonsed.  The phrase “having the legs” meant “enduring success, staying power" emerged in the late 1960s to describe Broadway shows which enjoyed an extended session while “long legged” was an automotive term which referred to a vehicle with an ability effortlessly to cruise at high speed.  Leg-side and off-side are the two hemispheres of a cricket ground, divided down the middle of the batting pitch.  The leg-side is that closest to a batsman's legs while the off-side is that closest to the bat when the normal batting position is adopted; leg and off-side thus swap identities depending on whether the batsman is left or right-handed.  The distinction explains the origin of many fielding positions (long off, deep backward square leg, leg slip etc) but, confusingly, the leg designation is only used for the "leg quarter" of the field, positions forward of square leg using "on" (as opposed to "off") thus long on, long off etc.   

The suffix –ing was from the Middle English -ing, from the Old English –ing & -ung (in the sense of the modern -ing, as a suffix forming nouns from verbs), from the Proto-West Germanic –ingu & -ungu, from the Proto-Germanic –ingō & -ungō. It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian -enge, the West Frisian –ing, the Dutch –ing, The Low German –ing & -ink, the German –ung, the Swedish -ing and the Icelandic –ing; All the cognate forms were used for the same purpose as the English -ing).  Legging & leggings are nouns, legging (in its slang sense) is a verb and legginged is an adjective.  The noun plural is leggings.

Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England 1509-1547) & Lindsay Lohan illustrate the enduring appeal of leggings.

In the West, so ubiquitous for so long have been leggings that they seem less a trend than a fixture but historians of fashion have noted that leggings have been in and out of style since first they were worn in the fourteenth century, “going out” and “coming back” for hundreds of years.  Although now (except in sport or hidden under layers when worn by scuba-divers, mountaineers or those on ski fields) associated almost exclusively with women and girls, leggings appear first to have been worn by men in fourteenth century Scotland.  The early leggings were two separate, hip-high, boot-like apparatuses made of either leather or chainmail, intended for both civilian and military use and they evolved into thick garments (like tights), worn under cotehardies (a kind of blend of a cardigan, coat and hoodie (ankle-length for women, shorter for men), from the Old French cote-hardie, the construct being cote (coat) + hardie (hardy)) for the mid-Renaissance until the late eighteenth century (although they fell from favor with women more than a hundred years earlier.  Men abandoned them too as the combination of trousers, shirts and jackets became the standard form of dress, something which endures to this day.

Audrey Hepburn in capri pants, 1954.

The first modern day revival was stimulated by fashion designers in the 1950s using the capri pants in their early post-war shows, the slender waist-defining cropped black pants ideal emphasizing the preferred shape of the era and while they weren’t the now familiar skin-tight leggings, they offered a dramatic contrast with the wider-leg styles associated with the 1940s.  It was the debut of Lycra (spandex) in 1959 which made possible leggings in their modern form and fashion photographers soon honed techniques best suited when they were paired with the new generation of mini-skirts, the lines and allure of leg, paradoxically, emphasized when covered.

Bella Hadid (b 1996) in leggings coming from and going to the gym.  She looks good, coming or going.

The industry notes a brief lull in their popularity during the hippie era when many restraining devices were discarded (and sometime even ceremonially burned) but by the late 1970s they were back and the trend accelerated in the 1980s when the new popularity of active-wear spread beyond the gym to the street and, significantly, the new influencer platform of the music video and the stretchy things survived the onslaught of leg warmers.  Lycra was well suited to bright, shiny colors and the leotard over leggings look became a motif of the decade.  It was perhaps a bit much and things got darker and baggier in the 1990s but the practicality of the things was ultimately irresistible and the innovation of stirrup-leggings was a harbinger of the new century.  It does seem they’re now here to stay and full-length, liquid leggings have in a sense replaced pants, something which upset some Middle-Eastern airlines which were compelled to remind passengers their dress code allowed pants for women but that “leggings are not pants”, a rule enforced in the West on female visitors to some men’s prisons.

Gym pants are a variation of leggings.  Cut usually to calf-length, the design is optimized for exercise.  Ina-Maria Schnitzer (b 1986; who modeled as Jordan Carver) demonstrates the advantages.

Sesquipedalian

Sesquipedalian (pronounced ses-kwi-pi-dey-lee-uhn or ses-kwi-pi-deyl-yuhn)

(1) A person given to using long words.

(2) Of a word containing many syllables or one considered long and ponderous.

1605-1615: From the Latin sēsquipedālis & sesquipedalia (of a person or some object a foot and a half long), the construct being sesqui (half as much again) + pedālis (of the foot) from pēs (foot) from the primitive Indo-European ped- (foot).  Sequipedalian is a noun & adjective, sesquipedal is an adjective, sesquipedality  is an adverb and sesquipedalianism & sesquipedalism are nouns.

Bust of the Roman lyric poet Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus, 65-8 BC), Villa Borghese Park, Rome.

There's nothing to suggest the use in English as a noun was ever widespread but it attained a certain popularity as an adjective in the 1650s, deployed by critics who approved not at all of writers over-fond of long (and often obscure) words.  Enjoying the irony, condemning sesquipedalianism was an early example of the admirable work of the "plain English" movement which still has some work to do among lawyers and the universities where tautology and tortured phrasing seems still to impress many.  The sense of the "sesquipedalian word" was coined as the sesquipedalia verba (literally "words a foot-and-a-half long") in Horace's Ars Poetica (thought published circa 8 BC) as a funny way of pointing out the use of many or long words when fewer or shorter will do as well.  Horace unexpectedly included some literary theory and criticism in an earlier work devoted mostly to other matters but returned to exploring the literary theme further in Ars Poetica, written in the form of an epistle.  Sometimes referred to as Epistles 2.3, it’s thought to be his final poem and as a work, it endured well, ranking with Aristotle's (384–322 BC) De Poetica (Poetics, circa 335 BC) in its influence on literary theory and criticism.  Milton (1608-1674) would later commend both works in his treatise Of Education (1644).

Horace’s gift of sesquipedalian was enough for most but there were in the twentieth century those who rose to the challenge, coining hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia (the fear of long words) to add to the ever growing list of phobias although it was one of the many formed more in linguistic fun than in response to any great volume of clinical instances.  It was from the earlier jocular construction hippopotomonstrosesquipedalian which built on sesquipedalian with the addition of monstr (from the Latin monstrum (“monstrous being” or something huge or terrifying)) and hippopotamus (chosen presumably both to lengthen of the word and reinforce the fear (the big hippopotamus amphibious (the modern word Hippopotamine meaning “something very large”) actually a dangerous creature annually killing over 500 people whereas lions take only a couple of dozen (although in Greek mythology, Hippô (Ἱππώ or Ἵππωτος) meant "horse" and potámi & potam-os (ποτάμι) meant "river" & "like a swift current") +‎ -phobia (fear of a specific thing; hate, dislike, or repression of a specific thing), from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía); it was used to form nouns meaning fear of a specific thing (the idea of a hatred came later)).  Even that could be improved (or at least enlarged) and hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia soon emerged as an alternative spelling though presumably it wasn’t adopted by those suffering the neglected (and almost undocumented) mizzpellifobia.

The logophilic Lord Black of Crossharbour (left), taking his seat in the House of Lords, London, 2002.

Anyway, like many of its ilk, the 15-syllable concoction was relegated to the corner of lexicographical curiosities while sesquipedalophobia remains the recognized name for the condition.  Fears and phobias are part of the human condition and the mind is able to develop them towards just about anything or concept.  That sesquipedalophobia is a rare condition does not mean it’s not real because an instance of symptoms doesn’t need to be widespread to be defined; they need only to be specific to at least a single case for the diagnostic criteria to be created.  However, while a phobia can manifest as an aversion, for sesquipedalophobia to be diagnosed the condition must be both enduring and impose on an individual some clinically significant consequences which adversely affect their normal social functioning.  One can dislike the use of long words and (often commendably) avoid the practice but that’s just a preference and a technique of expression, not a phobia.  Perhaps surprisingly, although logophobia & verbophobia are listed as a “fear of words” there is no record of a phobia for “fear of words of unknown meaning”.  Anyone who fears they may suffer this as yet undiagnosed disorder should probably avoid reading the works of Conrad Black (Lord Black of Crossharbour, b 1944), noted for a fondness for the obscure or archaic (though not necessarily the long so it may be safe for sesquipedalophobics to browse).

So those who suffer somewhere on the sesquipedalophobia spectrum are those who tend to experience heightened anxiety when confronted with long words and the extent of the duration and intensity of that anxiety indicates the position on the spectrum (the revision to the fifth edition of the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5-TR (2022) notes a specific phobia (classified as an anxiety disorder) as an intense, persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, situation, or activity, or person, the fear usually proportionally greater than the actual danger or threat).  Most specific phobias are induced by a causal event or trigger recorded by parts of the brain (amygdala and hippocampus) as dangerous or deadly, the body reacting in sympathy especially if the same thing is perceived as bound repeatedly to happen.  In theory, a patient with the most severe case of sesquipedalophobia could suffer a temporary paralysis or even a seizure although both are unlikely, feelings of anxiety or even panic more probable.  It’s thought the condition is learned behavior, induced by an unpleasant episode, often in childhood and the recommended treatment regime is cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) which focuses on a gradual exposure to long words rather than an exploration of the initial causative event, something which may create additional trauma for no benefit; nor are symptom-masking drugs recommended, these considered a last resort and the DSM also notes a gradual exposure during CBT can assist the patient to recognize their fear is excessive or unreasonable.  Interestingly, sesquipedalophobia seems very much a condition suffered by native English speakers and there seems no evidence those with an early exposure to long words (such as Welsh (Cymraeg or y Gymraeg)) and German (Deutsch)) are afflicted disproportionately, presumably an indication of the significance of events in childhood which may cause the syndrome to appear.

Gruntle

Gruntle (pronounced gruhn-tl)

Happy or contented; satisfied (informal; non-standard).

1500s: A frequentative of grunt.  Grunt was from the Middle English grunten, from the Old English grunnettan (to grunt (and a probably imitative frequentative of grunian (to grunt)), from the Proto-West Germanic grunnattjan, from the Proto-Germanic grunnatjaną (to grunt), frequentative of the Proto-Germanic grunnōną (to grunt), from the primitive Indo-European ghrun- (to shout).  It was cognate with the Old High German grunnizon, the German grunzen (to grunt), the Old French grogner & the Latin grunnire (to grunt) and the Danish grynte (to grunt) and the noun senses are all instances of zero derivation from the verb.

The noun emerged in the 1550s, from the verb.  The name for the fish (now used for any fish of the perciform family Haemulidae dates from 1713 and was so-called because of the noise they made when taken from the water while “grunter” (a pig) was first noted in the 1640s).  The meaning "infantry soldier or enlisted Marine" became US military slang during Vietnam War in the 1960s (and was first noted in print in 1969) although it had been applied to various low-level (and not necessarily manual) workers since early in the twentieth century, the phrase “grunt work” dating from 1977.  Grunt in the sense of horsepower dates from the early 1960s, the first use in print of “grunt machine” noted in 1973.  The dessert of steamed berries and dough (usually blueberries) described as grunt is from North America and exists usually as “blueberry grunt”; “raspberry grunt etc” (although the use takes no account of blackberries, mulberries, and raspberries not actually being berries whereas bananas, pumpkins, avocados & cucumbers are).

Lindsay Lohan looking gruntled.

The more familiar forms are disgruntle (verb), disgruntled (verb & adjective), disgruntling (verb & (occasional) adjective) and disgruntlement (noun) and all reference the sense of “to put into a state of sulky dissatisfaction; make discontented”.  Disgruntle dates from circa 1682, the construct being dis- + gruntle.  The dis prefix was from the Middle English dis-, from the Old French des from the Latin dis, from the proto-Italic dwis, from the primitive Indo-European dwís and cognate with the Ancient Greek δίς (dís) and the Sanskrit द्विस् (dvis).  It was applied variously as an intensifier of words with negative valence and to render the senses “incorrect”, “to fail (to)”, “not” & “against”.  In Modern English, the rules applying to the dis prefix vary and when attached to a verbal root, prefixes often change the first vowel (whether initial or preceded by a consonant/consonant cluster) of that verb. These phonological changes took place in Latin and usually do not apply to words created (as in Modern Latin) from Latin components since the language was classified as “dead”.  The combination of prefix and following vowel did not always yield the same change and these changes in vowels are not necessarily particular to being prefixed with dis (ie other prefixes sometimes cause the same vowel change (con; ex)).

Lindsay Lohan looking disgruntled.

The verb disgruntle, dating from circa 1682, means "to put into a state of sulky dissatisfaction".  Because the prefix dis- usually means "to do the opposite of", it’s not unreasonable to assume there must first have been the word “gruntle” meaning “happy or contented; satisfied” but there are cases where the prefix operates as an intensifier (in this case in the sense of “utterly” or “completely”) and this was the path of disgruntle, an extension of gruntle which in English use meant "to grumble" and, grumbling being a noted characteristic of the English, it had some history of use, the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) listing a 1589 sermon by Robert Bruce of Kinnaird (1554–1631) in which he uttered ''It becomes us not to have our hearts here gruntling upon this earth”.  Use however faded while disgruntled flourished and although the original OED (1884) noting it was “now chiefly US), a view unaltered by 1933 when the Shorter OED (SOED) was published.  Since then however it’s been revived elsewhere and is now a common form throughout the English-speaking world; given the nature of the human condition, most expect it to endure.

The unexpected re-appearance of gruntle in the twentieth century in the sense of “happy or contented; satisfied” (ie an antonym both of the original meaning and of disgruntle) was thus not a revival of something obsolete but a jocular back-formation from disgruntle, most sources indicating the first known instance in print being from 1926 but the most celebrated example comes from PG Wodehouse (1881–1975) who in The Code of the Woosters (1938) penned: “He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.”  Long a linguistic joke, some now take gruntled seriously but for the OED to acknowledge that, we may have to wait decades although the editors were quick to verify couth as a late nineteenth century back-formation from uncouth.

The precedent of back-formation has inspired many and other suggestions have included whelmed (from overwhelmed (underwhelmed another more recent coining)), fused (from confused), plexed (from perplexed), fuddling (from befuddling), settling (from unsettling), molish (from demolish), concerting (from disconcerting), wildered (from bewildered), stitious (from superstitious), shevled (from dishevled), gusting (from disgusting), tracted (from distracted) & juvenate (from rejuvenate).  Combobulate (from discombobulate) seems often also longed for but progress there has begun for in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, one can recombobulate.

Spiced Blueberry Grunt by Carolyn Beth Weil

Seemingly an unpromising name for a pudding, Grunts get their quirky name from the fruit which is topped with dumplings and cooked on the stove in a covered skillet, a method which can produce a grunting sound as things steam.  The molasses adds sweetness and depth of flavor.

Ingredients (filling)

4 cups fresh blueberries (from four ½-pint containers)
½ cup (packed) golden brown sugar
¼ cup mild-flavored (light) molasses
¼ cup water
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon ground cloves

Ingredients (Dumplings)

1 ½ cups all purpose flour
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
¾ teaspoon fine sea salt
3 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/4-inch cubes
¾ cup whole milk
Whipped cream and/or vanilla ice cream for topping

Step 1 (prepare filling)

Mix all ingredients in 12-inch-diameter skillet. Bring to boil over medium-high heat, stirring until sugar dissolves. Reduce heat to medium; simmer until berries soften and mixture thickens slightly, about 10 minutes.

Step 2 (prepare dumplings)

Whisk flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in medium bowl to blend. Add butter and rub in with fingertips until mixture resembles fine meal. Add milk; stir just until blended and sticky dough forms.

Step 3 (cooking & serving)

Drop batter by tablespoonfuls onto simmering berry mixture, placing close together. Reduce heat to medium-low; cover skillet and simmer until dumplings are firm and tester inserted into dumplings comes out clean, about 25 minutes. Scoop warm dessert into bowls and top with whipped cream and/or ice cream.

Column

Column (pronounced kol-uhm)

(1) In architecture, a rigid, relatively slender, upright support, composed usually of relatively few pieces.

(2) A decorative pillar, most often associated with the classical architecture of antiquity, composed of stone and typically having a cylindrical or polygonal shaft with a capital and usually a base.

(3) Any column-like object, mass, or formation.

(4) A vertical row or list.

(5) A vertical arrangement on a page of horizontal lines of type, usually typographically justified.

(6) A regular feature or series of articles in a newspaper, magazine, or the like, usually having a readily identifiable heading and the byline; often related to a single subject or theme

(7) A long, narrow formation of troops in which there are more members in line in the direction of movement than at right angles to the direction.  A column one wide is said to be in single-file.

(8) A formation of ships in single file (largely archaic).

(9) In botany, a column-like structure in an orchid flower, composed of the united stamens and style.

(10) In anatomy or zoology, any of various tubular or pillar-like supporting structures in the body, such as the spinal column, each generally having a single tissue origin and function.

(11) In the design of accounting ledgers or computer-based spreadsheets, the vertical array of data (contrast with the row; the horizontal array).

(12) In chemistry, an object used to separate the different components of a liquid or to purify chemical compounds.

(13) As the fifth column (quinta columna), a group of people which clandestinely undermines a larger group, such as a nation, to which it is expected to be loyal.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English columne, columpne & columpe, from the Old French columne, from the Latin columna (column, pillar, post), the construct being colum(e)n (peak) + a (creating the feminine form).  Column replaced the Late Middle English colompne, also a Latin derivation and borrowed from the Anglo-French.  The Latin columna was akin to collis (a hill) & celsus (high), both likely derived from the Ancient Greek κολοφών (kolophṓn), (top, summit).  Ultimate root was probably the Primitive European kel (to project).  The sense of "matter written for a newspaper" dates from 1785; that of the “fifth column” is from 1936.  The most common derived forms are the adjectives columnar, columned or columnated.  The first commercially successful spreadsheet was VisiCalc (1979), Lotus 1-2-3 following in 1983 and Microsoft Excel in 1985; built with columns and rows, the spreadsheet was instantly successful in translating the physical ledger into digital form and is considered the "killer app" which legitimized the use of personal computers in business.

The Fifth Column

A fifth column is group of people who undermine the security of the state in which they’re living, in support of an enemy force, historically as a prelude to invasion.  The more modern and still current variation is the sleeper-cell, individuals or even families integrated into foreign populations where they lie dormant, awaiting activation.  There’s no doubt the origins of the phrase “fifth column” can be traced to the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) but, like many things from those years, the details are contested.  The first recorded instance was in a telegram, sent on 30 September 1936 by a German diplomat to the Foreign Ministry in Berlin reporting a "supposed statement” by the nationalist leader General Franco (Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892–1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975) claiming that not only did he have four columns of Nationalist troops marching on Madrid but that inside the city, a secret ”fifth column” (quinta columna) of fellow-travelers within the city would support the nationalist’s military campaign and undermine the Republican government from within.

Hitler and Franco, photographed at their day-long meeting at Hendaye, on the Spanish-French border, 23 October 1940.  Their discussions concerned Spain's participation in the War against the British but it proved most unsatisfactory for the Germans, the Führer declaring as he left that he'd rather have "three of four teeth pulled out" than have to spend another day with the Caudillo.  Unlike Hitler, Franco was a professional soldier, thought war a hateful business best avoided and, more significantly, had a shrewd understanding of the military potential of the British Empire and the implications for the conduct of the war of the wealth and industrial might of the United States.  The Allies British were fortunate Franco took the view he did because had he agreed to afford the Wehrmacht (the German armed forces) the requested cooperation to enable them to seize control of Gibraltar, the Royal Navy might have lost control of the Mediterranean, endangering the vital supplies of oil from the Middle East, complicating passage to the Indian Ocean and beyond and transforming the strategic position in the whole hemisphere.   

The first known public use of the term is in the 3 October 1936 issue of the Madrid Communist daily Mundo Obrero.  In a front-page article the party propagandist Dolores Ibárruri (1895–1989; known as la Pasionaria (the Passionflower) for her strident oratory) referred to the same statement as reported to Berlin but attributed it to General Emilio Mola (1887-1937).  On the same day the another activist made a similar claim during a public rally and the Republican newspapers would in subsequent days repeat the story although with variations, some attributing the phrase to a different general.  Whether all this was some of the fog of war or part of the disinformation campaigns inevitable in any conflict will never be known but by mid-October media, the press were already routinely referring to the "famous fifth column".  Historians have never identified the original statement or its source.  All the verified documentary evidence of people using the words quinta columna is of instances after the publication in the Republican press.

Although renowned for its art deco buildings, there's also much neo-classicism in Miami, Florida.  A staple of gossip columns, Lindsay Lohan is pictured here among the columns, December 2013.

The “fifth column” caught the public imagination and became popular, Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961) using it as the title of the only play he wrote, published in his 1938 book The Fifth Column and the First Forty-Nine Stories.  Initially, use tended to be restricted to military operations but it came to be applied more broadly to describe sympathizers of any cause not formerly attached to any structure and was by the early 1940s, used to warn of potential sedition and disloyalty within the borders both of the UK and US, the popular press running stories warning of a “Nazi Fifth Column”.  Always one with a fondness for a pungent phrase, Winston Churchill reassured the House of Commons the "…parliament has given us the powers to put down fifth column activities with a strong hand".  In Australia, a radio drama exploring the theme, The Enemy Within, was banned by the censor, the authorities apparently concerned listeners might confuse fact with fiction and become alarmed or worse.

General Franco’s troops interview a suspected fifth columnist.  This was actually a photo "staged" for publicity purposes.