Fabulous

Fabulous (pronounced fab-yuh-luhs)

(1) Exceptionally good or unusual, wonderful or superb; fashionable, glamorous (which pedants insist is informal but it’s long been the standard meaning).

(2) Almost impossible to believe; incredible.

(3) In slang or as a euphemism, gay or pertaining to gay people; camp, effeminate ("a fabulousity" suggested as a collective noun for gay men but it never caught on) .

(4) In slang, fashionable, glamorous.

(5) Of or about fables; stories wholly or substantially of the imaginary and known of through myth or legend; something in the record known to be unhistorical.

Circa 1550: From the Late Middle English fabulous & fabulose, from the Latin fābulōsus (celebrated in fable; rich in myth), the construct being fābul(a) (a story, a tale) + -ōsus (the adjectival suffix).  The –ōsus suffix (familiar in English as –ous) was from Classical Latin from -ōnt-to-s from -o-wont-to -s, the latter form a combination of two primitive Indo-European suffixes: -went & -wont.  Related to these were –entus and the Ancient Greek -εις (-eis) and all were used to form adjectives from nouns.  In Latin, -ōsus was added to a noun to form an adjective indicating an abundance of that noun.  As a literary genre (and some fables came from oral traditions) fables were stories told usually to make some moral point or illustrate the consequences of one’s actions and while they could sometimes involve fantastical creatures like winged stallions or unicorns, sometimes they involved fictional characters who were mere flesh & blood and even a multi-volume, epic-length novel like Don Quixote (1605-1615) by Miguel de Cervantes circa 1547–1616) can be thought a fable.  Fabulous is an adjective, fabulousness & fabulosity are nouns and fabulously is an adverb; the use is the plural is rare but both fabulousnesses & fabulosities exist.  There is some evidence of use in the gay community of fabulous as a (non-standard) noun, sometime in the form “uber-fabulous” although that construction is also used generally as an adjective of especial emphasis.

Looking fabulous: Lindsay Lohan Fabulous magazine, August 2010.

The original sense was “of or pertaining to fable” and dates from the 1550s.  The now familiar meaning shift began as early as the turn of the seventeenth centuries when the word was recorded to convey the sense of “incredible” which soon extended to “enormous, immense; amazing” and by the mid-twentieth century it was used almost exclusively to mean “marvelous; wonderful, superb”.  The clipping to create the slang “fab” was in used by at least 1957 and use spiked after 1963 when the alliterative “fab four” was used to describe the pop group, The Beatles.  When in 1965 revising Henry Fowler’s (1858–1933), A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926), Sir Ernest Gowers (1880–1966) maintained his predecessor’s disapproval of much that was a bit too modern, noting that correctly fabulous meant “…mythical, legendary, but was long ago extended to do duty as an adjective for something that is real but so astonishing that you might not think it was legendary if you did not know better.”, adding that it had “…become fabulously popular as a term of eulogy or allure.”  He seemed though to suspect it might be a “fad word”, noting it and its contracted forms “fab” & “fabs”, like “fantastic”, were perhaps the latest “…in that long list of words which boys and girls use for a time to express high commendation and then get tired of, such as, to go no farther back than the present century, topping, spiffing, ripping, wizard, super, posh, smashing.”  Decades on however, fabulous seems to have endured in its contemporary uses and even the portmanteau adjective fantabulous (the construct being fanta(stic) + (fa)bulous) has survived in its niche.  Fabulous probably gained a new lease of life when it was in the late 1960s picked up by the gay community which has used it even as a noun and it remains an essential element in the camp vocabulary.  Unless it’s between scholars, those wishing to convey the original meaning should probably use terms such as “fabled” or “mythological” rather than fabulous and even “legendary” can be ambiguous because it’s now often used to mean something like “famous” or “very well-known”.

Lindsay Lohan in an unusual cage cutout top, the lines assuming or relaxing from the orthogonal as the body moves (maybe an instance of "a shifting semiorthogonal"), The World's First Fabulous Fund Fair in aid of the Naked Heart Foundation, The Roundhouse, London, February 2015.  An opportunity was missed by not adding a sympathetic clutch purse.

George W Bush, Condoleezza Rice & Colin Powell.

The phrase “the fabulous invalid” refers to live theater & stage productions generally, the use derived from a 1938 stage play of that name by George S Kaufman (1889-1961) and Moss Hart (1904-1961) which traced the that follows the seesawing fortunes of a fictitious Broadway theater between 1900-1930.  In a touching irony, while the play was barely a modest success and not highly regarded by its authors, the title has endured as a synonym for the theatre.  George W Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; US president 2001-2009) who (admittedly unwittingly) contributed more than most to coining new words & novel grammatical structures, probably wasn’t deliberately alluding the original meaning of fabulous when he used it to describe the performance of his first foreign minister, Colin Powell (1937–2021; US secretary of state 2001-2005) but if considered thus it certainly reflected his view that the general’s favorable public image reflected more myth than reality and he’d prefer a secretary of state who both ticked a few boxes and was more attuned to his brutish world-view.  In Dr Condoleezza Rice (b 1954; US secretary of state 2005-2009) he certainly got that but in the run-up to the invasion of Iraq, whatever might have been his better judgment, the general did his job because, as Field Marshall Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; head of Oberkommando der Wehrmacht (OKW), the Nazi armed forces high command) put it at the Nuremberg Trial (1645-1946): “For a soldier, orders are orders.”  His flirtation with politics is a fable and story of Condoleezza Rice’s career in government even more so: a cautionary tale of what can happen when a nice young lady from a good family gets mixed up with an unsavory crowd (Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld et al).

White House transcript of press conference assembled when the president met with Colin Powell and Richard Armitage (b 1945; US deputy secretary of state 2001-2005) at his ranch in Crawford, Texas, Wednesday, 6 August 2003:

THE PRESIDENT: First, it's been my real privilege and honor to welcome the Secretary of State back to Crawford. He and Dick Armitage came, and we spent yesterday evening and this morning talking about our country's desire to promote peace and freedom, our obligations as a prosperous and strong nation to help the less fortunate. And we had a good strategy session, and now we're about to go out and brand some cows -- well, not exactly. (Laughter)

QUESTION: Sir, you've seen the report that Secretary Powell and Secretary Armitage are going to leave at the end of this administration. Do you expect them to stay on if there is a second Bush administration? Would you like them to?

THE PRESIDENT: Well, first things first, we hope there is a second Bush administration. And I will work hard to convince the American people that their confidence in me is justified. And we'll deal with it at the right time.  Listen, this guy has done a fabulous job. Washington, particularly in August, is a dangerous period -- a dangerous time, because there's a lot of speculation. And all I can tell you is, the man flies to Crawford and we spend a good 24 hours talking about how we're going to work together to make the world a better place.

QUESTION: But, Mr. President, you said, we'll deal with it…

THE PRESIDENT: Yes, Elizabeth.

QUESTION: We'll deal with it at the right time. That isn't "yes".

THE PRESIDENT: Deal with what at the right time?

QUESTION: With whether Secretary Powell will serve in a second term. Is that, "yes" or "no"? I mean, are you going to offer him a spot in the second term?

SECRETARY POWELL: I don't have a term. I serve the President. (Laughter)

QUESTION: No, but the President…

THE PRESIDENT: Elizabeth, look, first things first, and that is, we've got a year-and-a-while during my first term to make the world a more peaceful place and we'll deal with it. Washington loves speculation. Clearly, you love speculation. You love it. You love to speculate about…

QUESTION: It wasn't my story. (Laughter.)

THE PRESIDENT: Let me finish, please; let me finish. You love to speculate about whether so-and-so is going to be a part of the administration or not. And I understand the game. But I have got to do my job, and I'm going to do it. And I'm going to do it with the Secretary of State. And the fact that he is here in Crawford, Texas, talking about issues of importance, should say loud and clear to the American people that he's completely engaged in doing what he needs to do, and that is, serve as a great Secretary of State.

QUESTION: Do you want to serve more than four years, Mr. Secretary?

SECRETARY POWELL: I serve at the pleasure of the President, and this is all August speculation with no basis in fact. There was no basis for this story to begin with, and we're doing our jobs together.

THE PRESIDENT: All right. We're going to get a burger. Thank you.

Orthogonal

Orthogonal (pronounced awr-thog-uh-nl)

(1) Of, pertaining to or involving right angles; perpendicular

(2) In mathematics (sometimes as orthographic), pertaining to or involving right angles or perpendiculars.

(3) In mathematics, of a system of real functions defined so that the integral of the product of any two different functions is zero; of a system of complex functions defined so that the integral of the product of a function times the complex conjugate of any other function equals zero.

(4) In mathematics, of two vectors having an inner product equal to zero.

(5) In mathematics, of a linear transformation defined so that the length of a vector under the transformation equals the length of the original vector.

(6) In mathematics (and applied fields such as engineering or statistics), of a square matrix defined so that its product with its transpose results in the identity matrix.

(7) In crystallography, referable to a rectangular set of axes.

(8) Figuratively, something having no bearing on the matter at hand; independent of or irrelevant to another thing or each other.

(9) In art, (1) the descriptor of the lines of perspective which can be mapped onto an image pointing to the vanishing point & (2) in the literature of art criticism a technical term which refers to work consisting exclusively of horizontal or vertical line and thus angles which, if they exist, are right angles.

1565–1575: From (the now obsolete) orthogonium (right triangle), from the French orthogonal, from either the Late Latin orthogōnium & orthogōnālis, from the Latin orthogōnius (right-angled).or directly from the Greek orthogṓnion (neuter) (right-angled), the construct being ortho- + -gōn(ion) + -al.  Ortho- (straight, correct; proper), was from the Ancient Greek ὀρθός (orthós), from the Proto-Hellenic ortwós, from the primitive Indo-European hr̥dwós, from herd- (upright) and was cognate with the Latin arduus and the Sanskrit ऊर्ध्व (ūrdhvá).  The –gon element was from the Ancient Greek γωνία (gōnía) (corner, angle), from the primitive Indo-European ǵónu (knee).  The -al suffix was from the Middle English -al, from the Latin adjectival suffix -ālis, or the French, Middle French and Old French –el & -al.  It was use to denote the sense "of or pertaining to", an adjectival suffix appended (most often to nouns) originally most frequently to words of Latin origin, but since used variously and also was used to form nouns, especially of verbal action.  The alternative form in English remains -ual (-all being obsolete).  Orthogonal is a noun & adjective, orthogonality & orthogonalization are nouns and orthogonally & orthonormal are adverbs; the noun plural is orthogonals.

As adjectives, orthogonal & orthographic are synonymously and the choice is dictated by preference, habit or the rhythm of the text although, to avoid confusion, they probably shouldn’t both be used in the same document.  The Ancient Greek ὀρθογώνιον (orthogṓnion) and the Classical Latin orthogonium originally denoted a rectangle and it was in this sense the words were used by the early mathematicians although the use was later extended to mean a right triangle.  By the twelfth century (especially among engineers and architects) the post-Classical Latin orthogonalis came to mean a right angle or something related to a right angle.  In the modern era, in science and mathematics, derived forms have been coined as required (biorthogonal, pseudo-orthogonal etc) and there’s also the mysterious semiorthogonal which would seem oxymoronic given orthogonal is a description of a mathematically defined absolute.  In figurative use, orthogonal is used to suggest something is unrelated or irrelevant to whatever is being discussed but because it’s so rarely used outside of mathematics, engineering, architecture or art criticism, it’s probably a term to avoid though it may be worth a point or two in Philosophy 101.

Lindsay Lohan in an unusual cage cutout top, the lines assuming or relaxing from the orthogonal as the body moves (maybe an instance of "a shifting semiorthogonal").  The combo was a Black Pash shirt with & Alaia skirt, The World's First Fabulous Fund Fair in aid of The Naked Heart Foundation, The Roundhouse, London, February 2015.   The t-strap sandals were by Miu Miu) but an an opportunity was missed by not adding a sympathetic clutch purse.

Richard Nixon, the Franklins & the Orthogonians

When Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) attended Whittier College in California (1930-1934), it was still formally affiliated with the Religious Society of Friends (the Quakers), a link it would maintain until the post-war years.  However, in many ways it was little different to wholly secular institutions in the US (except that one hour a day in chapel was mandatory), including the fraternities and sororities, the still almost exclusively single-sex, student-run societies which were established on many a basis and have evolved variously although a number of the male-only ones often attract attention related to their epic levels of alcohol consumption.  As was the case with many colleges until recent decades, many of those which Richard Nixon found when he arrived had been formed as literary societies and while there were four sororities (for women), there was but one fraternity.

That was the Franklin Society which in 1921 had been the first fraternity founded at Whittier College, beginning as a literary society that based itself on the "virtues" espoused by US founding father and polymath (and confessed Freemason) Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790).  Nixon, then unpolished and obviously a shop-keeper’s son, thought them snobby and elitist, an opinion either formed or reinforced when the Franklins rebuffed attempts to join and readily he accepted the suggestion be assume the presidency of the fraternity formed by other students resentful at being rejected by the Franklins.  This was the Orthogonians, the name (based on the now standard translation “right angles”) meaning “the straight shooters”, their motto an earthy “beans, brains, brawn and bowels”.  The Orthogonians did not enjoy the black tie lifestyle of the Franklins and weren’t invited to the best parties but several of Nixon’s biographers have traced from his fraternity experience many of the characteristics which would remain identifiable throughout this political career.  He learned that in life there are few stars but many supporting players and the man who can align himself with their interests can gain their loyalty, something of real practical value in systems where everyone has one vote; it was the origin of his idea that elections and contests of ideas can be won by being appealing to the “silent majority”, something which would emerge as a political strategy during his presidency.  It taught him also that being hated was no obstacle to political success as long as one was hated by the right people, something he proved by beating the Franklin’s nominee for the position of student body president.  To this day, the Frankin’s website still boasts: “Among those who have been denied membership to this exclusive society is former president Richard Nixon.”  The Orthogoian Society still exists.

The master and the apprentice: Donald Trump and Richard Nixon, Houston, Texas, 1989.  It’s said the subject of Iran was raised in their discussions.

Some biographers have made much of the Franklin-Orthogonian contrast in the making of Nixon the younger.  In Nixonland (2008), Rick Perlstein’s (b 1969) thesis was that between 1965-1972, Nixon crafted a national conflict by exploiting the the mutual fear and hatred between the country’s elite Franklins and the “ordinary people”, the Orthogonians.  Some criticized the approach but Nixonland was a vivid approach to the era in which the divisions in the US became more exposed than they had been for a century and which was a prelude to the cross-cutting cleavages which have for decades characterized the country’s politics.  Nixon didn’t invent the politics of resentment but he expressed them in a language more easily understood by even the unsophisticated and more offensive than ever to those he labeled “the elites”.  In their own ways, to their radically different constituencies, Bernie Sanders (b 1941; senior US senator (Independent, Vermont) since 2007) and Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) are both inheritors of the Nixon legacy, two Franklins telling the Orthogonians they’re here to help.

Mermaid

Mermaid (pronounced mur-meyd)

(1) In folklore, a female marine creature, having the head, torso, and arms of a woman and the tail of a fish.  The less well-known masculine equivalent is a merman.

(2) Slang term for a highly skilled female swimmer.

Mid-1300s: From the Middle English mermayde (maid of the sea), the construct being mere + maid. From the Middle English mere, from the Old English mere (sea; inlet; lake), from the Proto-Germanic mari derived from the primitive Indo-European móri. It was cognate with the West Frisian mar, the Dutch & Low German meer and Norwegian mar (only used in combinations, such as marbakke).  It was related to the Latin mare, the Breton mor and the Russian мо́ре (móre).  Maid is from the Middle English mayde or maide, an abbreviation of maiden. Ultimate source is the Proto-Germanic magaþs (maid, virgin) and there were links to the Dutch meid & Magd.  The fourteenth century image of the "fabled marine or amphibian creature having the upper body in the form of a woman and the lower in the form of a fish, with human attributes" appeared most often in conjunction with the idea of a creature "usually working harm, with or without malignant intent, to mortals with whom she might be thrown into relation".

Along with meremenn, meremennen & meremenin, Old English had the equivalent merewif (water-witch (related is the modern “wife”)) and meremenn (mermaid, siren) which were cognate with the Middle Dutch meer-minne and the Old High German meri-min which, circa 1200, became the Middle English mere-min, shortened in the early thirteenth century to mere (siren), the later mermaid probably a re-expansion of this.  Interestingly, where similar forms existed in northern Europe, they were tail-less; the fishy form a medieval influence from classical sirens, mermaids said sometimes to lure sailors to destruction with song.

An artist's depiction of Lindsay Lohan as mermaid.

Mermaids became a popular sign displayed by taverns and inns (and not just those in ports or coastal towns) in the early fifteenth century and Mermaid pie, first sold in the 1660s, was a sucking pig baked whole in a crust and documented from 1825 was the mermaid's purse (the baked egg-case of a skate, ray, or shark), a dish (an aquatic take on the culinary tradition of haggis) thought of Scottish origin.  The merman (fabulous sea-creature, man above and fish below (literally "man of the sea)) dates from circa 1600; the gender-neutral merpeople from 1849 and merfolk (inhabitants of the sea with human bodies and fish-like tails) from 1846.  The recent male gender formations never caught the public imagination in quite the same way and seem pointless add-ons to the myth, al la Barbi's Ken.

Садко в Подводном царстве (Romanized as Sadko v Podvodnom tsarstve) and commonly called Sadko although known also as Sadko in the Underwater Kingdom (1876), oil on canvas by Ilya Yefimovich Repin (1844–1930), Russian Museum, Saint Petersburg.  

Repin painted Sadko (an imposing 127 in × 90.6 inches (3.225 x 2.3m)) while living in France.  The artist was inspired by an epic-length Russian poem, depicting the merchant and musician Sadko who must choose for his wife one of the daughters of the Underwater King.  Biographers have noted the subject an uncharacteristic one for Repin and have suggested his choice of a tale from Russian folklore may have reflected the homesickness he felt after three years in self-imposed exile although it exhibits too the influences of the artistic and social milieu of Paris's Montmartre.  At the time, Repin was ambivalent about the state of Russian art and for some time, Sadko sat abandoned in his studio but the society painter Alexey Petrovich Bogolyubov (1824–1896) thought it so compellingly Russian he prevailed upon Tsesarevich Alexander Alexandrovich (1845-1894; the future Tsar Alexander III (1881-1894)) to commission it, prompting Repin to finish the work.

Mermaids are Real T-shirt by RedBubble.

The bylina (an oral epic poem) which inspired the painting was from north-west Russia and recounts how Sadko had been brought to the realm of the Underwater King to perform a recital which went well, so well the king danced with such delight that he caused a devastating storm.  To show his appreciation, the king offered Sadko the choice of one of his mermaid daughters to take as his wife but following the advice of a saint, Sadko refuses three times three hundred daughters before accepting the last, named Chernavushka.  In the painting, Sadko appears at the right, watching the mermaids flow past his gaze, the unchosen at the front of the procession looking more disappointed than the fish John West rejects.  Chernavushka, last in the aquatic queue is shown glancing at her man.  At the time, the work received a mixed reaction.  All acknowledged the technical skill displayed in the execution but it appealed only to Russian traditionalists, those critics who moved in more liberal circles and were attracted more to realism than a mystical allegory of an undersea kingdom thought it sentimental "folk-art" and urged Repin to return to the naturalistic style with which he'd established his early reputation.

Mermaids are real: The Disneyland mermaids.

In summer, between 1959-1967, women dressed as mermaids were employed to splash around four hours a day, operating from a coral reef in the middle of the Submarine Lagoon at the Disneyland Resort in California.  The criteria to qualify for selection as a Disney mermaid included having long hair and being able to swim, the other qualifications not listed on the advertisements but presumably implied by the nature of the appointment.  Those lucky enough to succeed in the first stage of the recruitment process needed to prove their prowess in the hotel pool and, upon demonstrating adequate aquatic adeptness, were given a job which included their tails.  The weekly salary was US$65 which was above average for the time, their other perk being the right to swim in any of the park's many pools (without their tails).

Disney mermaids splashing about on the rocks.  Nice work if you can get it.

For a few weeks, prior to the opening in June, the mermaids practiced in Submarine Lagoon, surrounded by construction activity, neither the lagoon or the Matterhorn yet complete and were warned to keep their distance from the submarine, since there was no barrier and the installation contained what were described, ominously, as "moving parts".  After opening, the mermaids would swim around the submarine, giving guests a memorable experience under and above the surface, performing tricks such as flips and turns with their tails.  Their costumes consisted of a starfish top and a remarkably life-like neoprene tail which could be seen shimmering in the water by those aboard the monorail which transported guests between the park and the Disneyland Hotel.

Disney mermaids flexing their tails.

An integral and important part of the lagoon’s design was a centrally-located rock which was artificially heated, vital because the water was cold and on cooler days, the mermaids really needed the warmth.  The rock became the hangout spot for the mermaids to warm up in the sun and chat amongst themselves, itself something of a tourist attraction and one of the park’s more photographed scenes although the volume of the crowds gathered to enjoy the view did create congestion.  That was manageable but the programme had to be closed in 1967 after a number of mermaids were found to be suffering illness, caused by a combination of prolonged exposure to diesel submarine's exhaust fumes and the highly chlorinated water.  After an absence of many years, mermaids can again be seen in the lagoon but, unlike the flesh, blood and neoprene originals, today’s creatures are animatronic creations.

The  “sturgeon incident”, Xishuangbanna Primitive Forest Park, Yunnan, China, January 2025.  

In the twenty-first century, being a mermaid remains hazardous, the dangers including some not covered by most OHS (occupational health & safety) guidelines.  In January 2025, aged 22, Russian national Masha was working as a mermaid in the aquarium at Xishuangbanna Primitive Forest Park in the PRC’s (People’s Republic of China) Yunnan Province when a large sturgeon appeared to attempt to “chomp” on her head.  The quick thinking mermaid swam away with only minor injuries although it appears the fish may have swallowed her goggles and nose clips.  Children in the audience were said to be “shocked”.

Masha before “sturgeon incident”.

The source of the most prized and expensive caviar, sturgeons are among the largest freshwater fish and the largest can grow to 24 feet (7.2 meters) in length and weigh over 3500 lb (1500 kg) although most are typically between 7–10 feet (2–3 meters) and weigh several hundred pounds; an ancient species, they can live over 100 years.  Generally shy, there’s no history of them attacking people although the largest (like the Gulf or Atlantic sturgeon) have sometimes caused injuries (and even fatalities) by leaping from the water and colliding with someone unfortunate enough to be in their path.  Bottom feeders, they live on small aquatic organisms like crustaceans, insects and molluscs; lacking teeth, they use their suction-feeding ability to suck up food from the river or lakebed, relying on their barbels (whisker-like sensory organs) to detect prey in murky water.

Masha after “sturgeon incident”.

The munched-on mermaid was offered about US$100 in compensation for “moral damages” but was also warned not to discuss the “attack” and reminded of the consequences of posting material on-line which could be construed as “being a troublemaker” but unfortunately for Xishuangbanna Primitive Forest Park’s relationship with the CCP (Chinese Communist Party), customers who had filmed the attack within minutes uploaded the footage to TikTok’s domestic sister app Douyin, from which it spread worldwide.  Moscow news services reported that so expendable did Russian mermaids appear to be that although injured and in some pain, Masha was required almost immediately to return to the water where presumably she maintained a cautious distance from the big fish.  In Russian, Masha is an affectionate diminutive of Maria, from Mary, the English form of Maria, the Latin form of the Greek Μαρία, María (or Μαριάμ) & Mariam, found in the Septuagint and New Testament.  In the Hebrew the name meant “rising water” and in Russian “star of the sea” so there may have been an element of nominative determinism with Masha destined to be a mermaid or at least something aquatic.  Masha can also mean “willpower” or “bitterness” and, in the circumstances, she might need one to overcome the other.

Exchequer

Exchequer (pronounced eks-chek-er or iks-chek-er)

(1) A treasury, as of a state or nation.

(2) The governmental department in charge of the public revenues (often initial capital letter).

(3) A now disestablished English office administering the royal revenues and determining all cases affecting them.

(4) An ancient English common-law court of civil jurisdiction in which cases affecting the revenues of the crown were tried, now merged in the King's Bench Division of the High Court.  It was usually styled as the Court of Exchequer.

(5) Informal slang for one’s personal finances.

1250-1300: From Middle English escheker and eschequier, borrowed from the Anglo-French escheker and eschekier, derived from the Old French eschequier and escheccheck (chessboard, counting table).  Source was the Medieval Latin scaccarium (chess board).  The meaning with which it’s now most associated (government finances), emerged under the Norman kings of England, the basis the design of the cloth (divided in squares), covering the tables on which accounts of revenue were reckoned with counters; these reminded all who saw them of a chess board and the name was adopted.  The English respelling with an -x- was because of the erroneous medieval belief that it originally was a Latin ex- word (the old alternative spelling exchecker is long obsolete).  The most common modern use is the UK office of Chancellor of the Exchequer, equivalent variously to finance ministers or treasurers in other systems.  Confusingly for those not political junkies, the UK's prime-minister is formerly styled First Lord of the Treasury and the Chancellor, the Second Lord.  Exchequer is a noun & verb; the noun plural is exchequers.  When used to refer to an established institution (such as the UK's department of treasury), it's correct to use an initial capital.

Court of Exchequer Chamber

Although its origins date from the fourteenth century, it was the statute of 1585 which established the Court of Exchequer Chamber in essentially the form it would remain until its abolition by the Judicature Acts of 1873-1875 when it was absorbed into the Queen’s Bench Division of the High Court.  Always an appellate court for common law civil actions, the court heard references from the King's Bench, the Court of Exchequer and, from 1830, directly rather than indirectly from the Court of Common Pleas.  It was a classic English appeal court in that it was constituted by four judges belonging to the two courts that had been uninvolved at first instance although, in matters of especial importance, twelve common law judges, four from each division below, sitting in Exchequer Chamber, might be asked to determine a point of law, the matter being referred by the court hearing the case rather than the parties.  Appeals from its judgments were, by leave, to the House of Lords but, because the Exchequer Chamber was regarded as a specialist and authoritative body, this was rare before the nineteenth century and rules of judgment by the Chamber were considered definitive statements of the law.

Court of Exchequer (1808) by William Henry Pyne (1769-1843).

Most appeals to the chamber were from the Exchequer of Pleas or Court of Exchequer, a court which dealt with matters of equity and expanded in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries because the doing business in the Court of Chancery was a slow and expensive business.  In the manner of the evolution of the English courts, the Exchequer's jurisdiction, at various times, was common law, equity, or both, the prevailing trend being for discretionary areas of its jurisdiction to expand.  By the nineteenth century, Exchequer and Chancery enjoyed similar jurisdictions and with the Judicature Acts, the Exchequer was formally dissolved as a judicial body by an Order in Council of 16 December 1880.

The style of cloth spread across the tables of the courts of Exchequer has proved durable in fashion, the bold pattern working especially well with stark color contrasts, white with black, red, purple or navy blue the most popular combinations.  The gingham Macy midi dress (left) is a classic example but Lindsay Lohan (right) demonstrates how the look can be achieved using one’s own skin, using a Black Pash shirt & Alaia skirt combo (the t-strap sandals were by Miu Miu but an opportunity was missed by not adding a sympathetic clutch purse), The World's First Fabulous Fund Fair in aid of The Naked Heart Foundation, The Roundhouse, London, February 2015.

Portmanteau

Portmanteau (pronounced pawrt-man-toh)

(1) A case or bag to carry clothing in while traveling, made usually from stiff leather, hinged at the back so as to open out into two compartments

(2) A word created by blending two or more existing words.

1580s (for the travelling case (flexible traveling case or bag for clothes and other necessaries)): From the Middle French portemanteau (travelling bag, literally "(it) carries (the) cloak").  The original meaning from the 1540s was “court official who carried a prince's mantle" from porte, (imperative of porter (to carry) + manteau (cloak)).  The correct plural is portmanteaux but in modern English use, portmanteaus (following the conventions for constructing plurals in English) is now more common.  In the nineteenth century, the word was sometimes Englished as portmantle, a use long extinct.  The notion of the portmanteau word (word blending the sound of two different words) was coined by Lewis Carroll (pen-name of Charles L. Dodgson; 1832-1898) in 1871 for the constructions he invented for Alice Through the Looking-Glass such as Jabberwocky, his poem about the fabulous beast the Jabberwock.  Portmanteau in this sense has existed as a noun since 1872.

Vintage Louis Vuitton Portmanteau, typically circa US$50-80,000 depending on condition.

A portmanteau word, a linguistic blend, differs from contractions and compounds.  Contractions are formed from words that would otherwise appear together in sequence, such as do + not to make don't, whereas a portmanteau word is joins two or more words that relate to the one contractual theme.  A compound word is merely the joining for words in their original form (eg under + statement) without any truncation of the blended words.  Portmanteau words (eg breakfast & lunch to create brunch) always modifies at least one of the original stems.

Lindsay Lohan's handy moniker Lilo (the construct being Li(ndsay) + Lo(han) and it's used sometimes as LiLo) is a portmanteau word.

The word portmanteau was first used in this sense by Lewis Carroll in Alice Through the Looking-Glass (1871) where the concept is helpfully explained by Humpty Dumpty.  Less erudite but just as amusing was the creation of refudiate by Sarah Palin when she got confused and conflated refute and repudiate although it’s unclear whether she knew the meaning of either.  Even those created or used by more literate folk are not always accepted.  Irregardless (portmanteau of regardless and irrespective) seems to stir strong feelings of antipathy in pedants who generally won’t accept it even as a non-standard form and insist it’s simply wrong.  Other languages also create blended forms as needed.  The title of Emile Habibi’s 1974 novel was translated from Arabic utashaʔim (pessimist) + mutafaʔil (optimist) into English as The Pessoptimist.  Arabic linguistic traditions however prefer acronyms and compounds which sometimes overlap.  The group known variously as ISIL or ISIS (although they came to prefer "caliphate" or "Islamic State" (IS)) first adopted the name ad-Dawlah al-Islāmiyah fī 'l-ʿIrāq wa-sh-Shām (Islamic State if Iraq and the Levant) which is usually written as Daesh or Da'ish.  IS think this derogatory as it resembles the Arabic words daes (one who tramples underfoot) and dāhis (those who sows discord).  IS threatened to punish those who use Daesh or Da'ish with a public flogging; repeat offenders promised the cutting out of the tongue.

In the manufacture of big words, English is unlikely ever to match the Germans.  Until changes in EU regulations rendered it obsolete, the longest word in the Fourth Reich was rindfleischetikettierungsueberwachungsaufgabenuebertragungsgesetz (law delegating beef label monitoring).  Currently, the longest word accepted by German dictionaries is kraftfahrzeughaftpflichtversicherung (automobile liability insurance), editors rejecting donaudampfschifffahrtsgesellschaftskapitaenswitwe (widow of a Danube steamboat company captain) because of rarity of use.

Macaronic

Macaronic (pronounced mak-uh-ron-ik)

(1) A text composed of or characterized by Latin words mixed with vernacular words or non-Latin words given Latin endings (known in literary theory as the “macaronic verse”).

(2) In latter-day use, a text constructed with words from more than one language (written in a hodgepodge; a work of macaronic character).

(3) In structural linguistics, as macaronics, the study of or instances of macaronic language.

(4) Used loosely, anything mixed of stuff from different sources; a gallimaufry; a jumble (now rare).

(5) Of men, a dandy, foppish, trifling, affected (based on like “a macaroni” when used in that sense) (archaic).

1605–1615: From the sixteenth century New Latin macarōnicus, from the dialectal Italian maccarone (coarse dumpling), from the French macaronique (from the association of macaroni (the pasta) as peasant food with the vernacular language of peasants, thus the implication that mixing languages was indicative of “a lack of sophistication; being uneducated”, the construct being macaron(i) + -icus.  The Latin suffix -icus (feminine -ica, neuter -icum) was from i-stem + -cus and occurred in some original cases, becoming influential in adjectival formation and later used freely.  It was cognate with the Ancient Greek -ικός (-ikós), the Proto-Germanic -igaz (source of the Old High German and Old English -ig, the Gothic - -eigs, the Sanskrit -इक (-ika) and Proto-Slavic -ьcь (the latter becoming fossilized as a nominal agent suffix, but it likely originally also served adjectival functions).  The suffix was appended to nouns to form adjectives denoting (1) belong to, (2) derived from or (3) pertaining to and thus may be compared to the suffixes -ic & -ish.  The spelling macaronick has been obsolete since the eighteenth century.  Macaronic is a noun & adjective and macaronically is an adverb; the noun plural is macaronics.  The comparative is “more macaronic” and the superlative “most macaronic” and those presumably can be used either of (1) the number of “foreign” words in a text or (2) the extent of the perceived inelegance thus created.

Teofilo Folengo (1491–1544 (who wrote under the pseudonyms Merlino Coccajoa & Merlinus Cocaius)) is regarded as one of the earliest and certainly most celebrated of the Italian macaronic poets.  He had become a Benedictine monk after being disowned (and more to the point, disinherited) by his father, disappointed at his son being sent down from university for “bad behavior”, a character trait which the Benedictines seemed not wholly to have suppressed because while in the village close to the monastery, he was ensorcelled by the comely waif Girolama Dieda who led him astray.  They eloped but after years of wandering, he returned to the church, performing the necessary rites of repentance, remaining in “the arms of God” until he died.  It was in 1519 he published Maccaronea, a volume of burlesques in a style which proved influential, encouraging a host of imitators to pen a literature of rough and ribald satire in mingled Latin and Italian verse.  Helpfully, Brother Folengo in 1517 coined the Modern Latin macaronicus, based on the dialectal Italian maccarone (the pasta macaroni) and provided a verse referencing the ingredents: “Quoddam pulmentum farina, caseo, botiro compaginatum, grossum, rude, et rusticanum” which may be translated as “A certain dish made of flour, cheese, and butter, thick, crude, and rustic”, the elements deconstructed as farina (flour), caseo (cheese), botiro (butter), compaginatum (put together), grossum (thick), rude (crude; rough) & rusticanum (rustic).

So the macaronic verse was what might now be called a “mash-up” of vernacular words in a Latin context with Latin endings; applied loosely to verse in which two or more languages are jumbled together with little regard to syntax but so constructed as to be intelligible; that was what lent them the humor, they were obviously “wrong” but enough remained of conventional structures that the meaning was clear.  Because the dish maccarone was so associated with the rural poor (thus “peasant food”), the idea of the tangled, tortured language(s) of the verse was a caricature of the “talk of the uneducated, unsophisticated yokel”; in other words, a literary analogue of macaroni.  Although it was Folengo who popularized the technique its name, he wasn’t the first to publish verse in the style, Tifi (dagli) Odasi (the pen-name of Italian poet Michele di Bartolomeo degli Odasi (circa 1450–1492) in 1490 issuing Carmen macaronicum de Patavinis (Macaronic Song from Padua).  After the enthusiastic response to Folengo, the idea spread throughout Europe and much macaronic verse soon existed in French and German literature (the Germans calling them Nudeloerse although the works seem now to be listed as Knittelvers among the “amusing doggerel).

Portrait of Madame de Pompadour (1756), oil on canvas by François Boucher (1703-1770), Bavarian State Collection.

Soldiers liked pseudo Latin and Illegitimi non carborundum (Don't let the bastards grind you down) a classic of “Barracks Latin” while schoolboys & undergraduates were drawn to the macaronic limerick, the more bawdy the better:

King Louis, when passing through Bruges
Met a lady whose cunt was so huge
That he said, as he came
In that fabulous dame,
“Atta girl! Apris moi le deluge.” 

Apris moi le deluge (After me, the flood) was a phrase attributed to Louis XV (1710–1774; le Bien-Aimé (Louis the Beloved), King of France 1715-1774) who is reputed to have uttered the words to the Marquise de Pompadour (styled usually as Madame de Pompadour (Jeanne Antoinette Poisson (1721-1764), the king's official chief mistress 1745-1751)).  It conveys a feeling both narcissistic and nihilistic, the notion that once one is dead it matters little what happens in the world, an intoxicating sentiment expressed by characters in many novels.  Whether the king really spoke these exact words isn’t certain and there are different versions but it’s likely based on something he said and historians don’t doubt the fragment of thought is a glimpse into the royal mind.  In a more romantic telling of the tale, he whispers to his concubine: Après nous, le deluge (After us, the flood).

There was a young lady of Nantes
Très jolie, et très élégante, [Very pretty, and very elegant]
But her cunt was so small
It was no good at all,
Except for la plume de ma tante.

La plume de ma tante (The quill (pen) of my Aunt) is notorious for its use in French language teaching and derided as being as useless in general discourse as “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain”, neither “often coming up in conversation”.

Macaroni is of course an obviously Italian word, a quality once exploited for jocular effect by Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), someone not noted for his sense of humor.  In his (partly reliable) memoir, Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) recalled Benito Mussolini’s (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & prime-minister of Italy 1922-1943) 1937 state visit to Berlin being discussed during one of the Führer’s usually dreary social gatherings, recounting the way the sycophantic Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1945; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945) responded to Hitler having praised the Italian’s virtues and “Caesarean look.”:

“Goebbels interposed.  He was surely speaking in the name of all present, he said, if he called attention to the enormous difference between the Duce and the Führer.  After all, the Führer was quite another kind of personality. In Italy Mussolini might be something special, a Roman among plain ordinary Italians, as the Führer had sometimes remarked; but here in Berlin he was, after all, just an Italian among Germans. At any rate he, Goebbels, at times had felt that the Duce had come walking out of an operetta.  Hider’s initial response to this seemed to be one of contradictory emotions. His new friend was being denigrated, but at the same time he felt flattered and stimulated. When Goebbels followed this up with two or three skillful remarks, Hitler began imitating a few of Mussolini’s poses that had struck him as outré: the outstretched chin, the right hand braced against the hip, the straddle-legged stance. While the onlookers laughed obediently, he flung out a number of Italian or Italian-sounding words like patria, Victoria, macaroni, bellezza, belcanto, telegrafico, and basta. His performance was very funny.”  Speer was not much noted for a sense of humor either.

The curious adoption in England, late in the eighteenth century, of “a macaroni” to describe “a dandy, a foppish and extravagantly well-dressed young man” was an allusion to London’s fashionable Macaroni Club, popular with elegant young men from the what were then called “the better classes” who after their obligatory “Grand Tour of the Continent” arrived home affecting French and Italian fashions and accents, something which brought them some derision.  Interestingly, among twenty-first century entertainment figures, affected foreign accents are still heard.  Macaroni also provided the English ruling class with (yet) another way of putting down foreigners: there were “macaroni philosophers” (anything from other than Greek, German or English empiricist traditions), “macaroni marquises” (European titles of nobility of dubious provenance) and “macaroni makers” (a Foreign Office term for Italian diplomats (a later alternative being “ice-cream salesmen”).  Fortunately though, macaroni cheese (Mac ’n’ Cheese) which upon its eighteenth century introduction to London was an “exotic dish” survived to become truly classless comfort food, albeit one which dieticians are inclined to preach against, at least if enjoyed too much or too often.  In the English-speaking world, the spelling “macaroni” is almost universal although the original Italian form, maccaroni, was for centuries common and remains listed still by some dictionaries as an alternative.  The Italians now use maccheroni and in other countries this can be seen in menus of those Italian restaurants sprinkling a little linguistic flavor.   

Lindsay Lohan’s official Mac ‘n’ cheese recipe.