Fudge

Fudge (pronounced fuhj)

(1) A soft candy (sweet) made of sugar, butter, milk (or cream), often including chocolate or nuts.

(2) A polite alternative for “fuck” when used as an expletive (sometimes as “Oh, fudge”).

(3) In euphemistic slang, fecal matter; feces.

(4) In printing, a small stereotype or a few lines of specially prepared type, bearing a newspaper bulletin, for replacing a detachable part of a page plate without the need to re-plate the entire page (often called the “fudge box”).

(5) The bulletin thus printed, often in color.

(6) A machine or attachment for printing such a bulletin.

(7) As a Middle English surname, a diminutive of Fulcher.

(8) Nonsense or foolishness; to talk nonsense (often used as an interjection indicating a mild exclamation of annoyance).  To waffle, equivocate or hedge.

(9) Figuratively, light or frothy nonsense.

(10) To cheat.

(11) To fail to fulfil an obligation (often as “fudged” or fudging”).

(12) To avoid coming to grips with a subject, issue etc; to evade or dodge (often as “fudged” or fudging”); an unsatisfactory compromise reached to evade a difficult problem or controversial issue.

(13) To tamper with, falsify or misrepresent something, in order to produce a desired result or allow leeway for error (often as “a bit of a fudge”).  As a method, in engineering & IT, this is sometimes called the “fudge factor” (a quantity introduced to compensate for uncertainty).

Pre 1750: The verb fudge in the sense of “put together clumsily or dishonestly” may have been in use in the seventeenth century and may have been an alteration of the mid-sixteenth century fadge (make suit, fit), a verb of unknown origin.  In the eighteenth century the verb became associated especially with the language of sailors and it appeared often is ships’ logs.  The romantic story of the etymology of fudge coming to mean “lies! nonsense!” is that there was a certain Captain Fudge, infamous for “always bringing home his owners a good cargo of lies” according to a citation dating from 1700 and published in 1791.  Captain Fudge (a la Donald Trump’s later label for Ted Cruz) was known in the commercial shipping trade as “Lying Fudge”, and it may be his name reinforced this form of fadge in the sense of “contrive without the necessary materials”.  The Middle English surname Fudge was from Fuche, a pet form of the masculine proper name Fulcher, from the Germanic and meaning literally “people-army”.  Fudge is a noun & verb, fudger is a noun, fudged is a verb & adjective, fudgelike & fudgy are adjectives and fudging is a verb; the noun plural is fudges.

The use to describe the candy is mysterious but it certainly emerged in the US in the late nineteenth century and it too may have been linked with fadge (to fit), the idea being that the ingredients “merged together”.  Etymologists note that’s wholly speculative but all agree the sweet treat was first so named in women’s colleges in the US, the earliest known reference being from 1895 and other suggestions for the origin of the use in this context includes the idea of the concoction being “insubstantial” or perhaps the early recipes were “fudged” in the sense they were a product of trial and error, based on the long-time use of “fudge” in schools and colleges to mean a “a made-up story”.  That was a sense-development from Captain Fudge’s lies and “fudgy” stories were those especially implausible or “frothy & insubstantial” and the early form of the candy may have been less dense than the modern recipes produce.  No etymologist appears to support the suggestion there was any connection with “fudging” (ie “breaking or bending”) the dormitory rules in women’s colleges.  Fudge in the 1670s was used to mean “clumsily to contrive” and it’s this use which is thought perhaps an expressive variant of fadge (to fit, agree, do) which was akin to the Middle English feien and the Old English fēgan (to fit together, join, bind).  From this ultimately can be traced the modern uses which relate to “nonsense; fakery etc” but there is the suggestion of a link with the provincial French fuche & feuche (an exclamation of contempt from Low German futsch (begone).  Some sources list fudge as a euphemism for "fuck" but it's really a "polite substitution" because it's an alternative not to a description of the sex act but "fuck" as an expletive (thus "oh fudge", "Fudge!" etc).  Some slang dictionaries have listed fudge in that euphemistic sense but there's scant evidence of use.  

Uranus Fudge Factory, 14400 State Hwy Z, St Robert, Missouri 65584, USA.

In idiomatic use, to fudge something is to alter its true state, usually to conceal or misrepresent something inconvenient or to disguise some flaw but “to fudge” is suggestive of something benign rather than anything dishonest.  The fudge is very much the “white lie” of untruths; one might fudge one’s age or height on Tinder (presumably, other stuff may be fudged on Grindr) and touching-up one’s photograph to look a little better is “fudging it”.  Apparently not widely used in the “G” & “B” factions of the LGBTQQIAAOP community, the various uses of the word based on it being euphemistic slang for fecal matter or feces, are all derogatory.  The “fudge tunnel” is the anus, a “fudge packer” a male homosexual who practices anal sex (either as a top or bottom) and during the act once can be said to be “packing fudge”.  The most infamous use of the gay slur came shortly after “closetgate”, controversy which ensued after the 2005 South Park episode Trapped in the Closet, a parody of the Church of Scientology in which the Scientologist film star Tom Cruise (b 1962) refuses to come out of a closet.  Not discouraged by the threat of writs, South Park later featured an episode in which the actor worked in a confectionery factory, as a fudge packer, packing fudge into cardboard cartons.

The BBC’s Dark Chocolate Fudge

Ingredients

300ml whole milk
350g caster sugar
100g unsalted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
100g dark chocolate, chopped
Optional toppings: chopped nuts, toffee pieces, mini chocolate buttons.

Method

(1) Line 180-200 mm (7-8 inch) square tin with greaseproof paper.

(2) Put the milk, sugar and butter in a heavy-based saucepan.  Heat gently, stirring continuously with a wooden spoon, until the sugar has dissolved and the butter has melted (should take about 7 minutes).

(3) Bring to the boil for 15-22 minutes, stirring the whole time.  The mixture will bubble up and when it does, remove from the heat and keep stirring it until it sinks back down. Then return it to the heat, repeating the process if necessary.

(4) Start to take the temperature after about 15 minutes (but continue to stir or the mix will burn on the bottom).  The time it takes to come up to temperature will vary, depending on ambient conditions.  Once it reaches 115^oC (240^oF) as measured by a probe) remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla extract and a generous pinch of sea salt.  Leave the mix to cool for 5 minutes.

(5) Vigorously stir in the chopped chocolate and keep stirring until the chocolate has melted (initially it will split but keep stirring and it will come back together).  Quickly pour the mixture into the prepared tin, leaving it to set at room temperature.

(6) When the fudge has cooled to the point of being warm (rather than hot), the optional toppings (nuts, toffees, mini chocolate buttons etc) may carefully be place or scattered according to preference; gently press into the fudge until they stick.  The reason this can’t be done while the fudge is hot is the toppings will be prone to melting.  Once set, cut the fudge into small pieces and store in a sealed container.

Dark chocolate fudge (left) and Mamie Eisenhower's Chocolate Fudge (Million Dollar Fudge) (right). 

For those who prefer something sweeter, the classic choice is Mamie Eisenhower's (1896-1979) Chocolate Fudge, the recipe made famous by the First Lady of Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961).  One of the few things about which Republicans and Democrats now agree is the creamy and sweet concoction is a fine thing and the recipe has a long history in the US as “Million Dollar Fudge” although despite the connotations in that, it’s attraction was it was quick and easy to prepare and the ingredients were readily available in any corner store in the country.

Getting fudged: Lindsay Lohan before (left) and after (right) the application of fudge.  Such results are not possible with all hair types but this does illustrate what fudge can achieve. 

Hair styling products (collectively called “product”) like fudge, wax, mousse, and gel are all used as a final finish to a hairstyle but serve different purposes, providing various levels of texture, hold and shine and the choice of which to use is dictated by the critical variables of hair length, thickness and the effect desired.  Fudge is thick & creamy to ensure a strong hold is achieved and it’s noted for providing a matte finish.  Fudge is ideal for defined, structured styles which need to remain in place and can work with short hair to achieve a look which is severe without being too spiky.  For the spiky look, the product of choice is either wax or gel.  Wax is thick and sticky product and can be hard to work with but does offer a medium to strong hold and (if properly applied), a natural finish.  Wax has the advantage of being versatile and can be used for a wide range of styles and is the best product for creating texture and separation in short to medium-length hair, especially if a textured, tousled look is desired; many hairdressers will use only wax when creating a JBF.  Gel is a thick, viscous substance which is the go-to product fort slicked-back or spiky styles where the need is for sleek, polished or wet-look hair which needs the maximum hold and control.  If someone’s hair looks like a helmet, that look has probably been attained with gel.  Mousse is different.  It’s lightweight, foamy and essentially allows a framework to be built-into the hair, adding volume although it provides only a light to medium hold and can’t withstand threats like strong breezes.  Mousse is good at adding body and bounce and, if well done, the increase in functional volume can be extraordinary and the dramatic styles applied to some models for static photo-shoots are usually mousse-heavy and despite the appearance, mousse usually leaves a soft, touchable finish.

Pisteology

Pisteology (pronounced pi-stol-uh-jee)

(1) In theology, the branch dealing with the place and authority of faith.

(2) In philosophy, a theory or science of faith.

Circa 1870s: From the German Pisteologie, the construct being the Ancient Greek πίστις (píst(is)) (faith) + -eo- (faith) (akin to peíthein to persuade) + -logie.  The English form is thus understood as píst(is) +-e-‎ + -ology.  The Ancient Greek noun πίστις (pístis) (faith) was from the Primitive Indo-European bheydhtis, the construct being πείθω (peíthō) (I persuade) +‎ -τις (-tis); πεῖσῐς (peîsis) was the later formation.  Although in English constructions it’s used as “faith” (in the theological sense), in the original Greek it could impart (1) trust in others, (2) a belief in a higher power, (3) the state of being persuaded of something: belief, confidence, assurance, (4) trust in a commercial sense (credit worthiness), (5) faithfulness, honesty, trustworthiness, fidelity, (6) that which gives assurance: treaty, oath, guarantee, (7) means of persuasion: argument, proof and (8) that which is entrusted.  The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism etc).  The alternative spellings are pistology & pistiology.  Pisteology is a noun and pisteological is an adjective; the noun plural is pisteologies.

The early use of pisteology was in the context of theology and it appears in an 1880 essay on the matter of faith by the Congregational minister Alfred Cave (1847–1900).  The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) refers to the word as exclusively theological but in later editions noted it was also used to mean “a theory or science of faith”, reflecting its adoption in academic philosophy although the embrace must have been tentative because pisteology was (and remains) “rare”, listed as such by those lexicographers who give it a mention though what is clear is that it seems never to have been cross-cultural, remaining implicitly a thing of Christendom.  In a sense, it’s surprising it hasn’t appeared more, especially in the troubled twentieth century when matters of “faith and doubt” were questioned and explored in a flurry of published works.  Perhaps it was a division of academic responsibility, the devoted studying belief and the scholars the institution, the pragmatic settling for the Vatican’s (unofficial) fudge: “You don’t have to believe it but you must accept it.”

Pondering cross-cultural pisteology: Lindsay Lohan carrying the Holy Qur'an (Koran), Brooklyn, New York, May 2015.

While clearly the universities got involved and the intersection between pisteology epistemology (the study of knowledge and belief) does seem obvious to the point when the former might be thought a fork of the latter, its roots and concerns remained theological and Christian, exploring how faith functions in religious traditions, doctrines, and human understanding of the divine and many famous thinkers have written works which may be thought pisteological landmarks.  Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430) wrote so widely it’s probably possible to find something which tracks the path of some direction in Christianity but underling it all was his famous admission: “I believe in order to understand”, more than a subtle hint that faith is a prerequisite for true comprehension of divine truth.  Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) lived 800-odd year later and was better acquainted with the philosophers of the Classical age.  Aquinas is sometimes said to have “integrated” Aristotelian philosophy with Christian theology and while this is misleading, he understood the spirit of reasoning from Antiquity was compelling and in a way that’s influential still, he argued faith and reason complement each other, defined faith as a virtue by which the intellect assents to divine truth under the influence of the will.  A central figure in Reformed theology, John Calvin (1509-1564) explored faith extensively in his Institutes of the Christian Religion. He described faith as a firm and certain knowledge of God's benevolence toward us, founded on the promise of the gospel and revealed by the Holy Spirit.  Martin Luther (1483–1546) probably thought this not so much a fudge as a needless layer, arguing that it was faith alone (rather than a virtuous life of good works) by which one would on judgement day be judged.  Faith then was the cornerstone of salvation in his doctrine of sola fide (faith alone), a rigor which would have pleased John Calvin (1509–1564).  The philosopher Søren Kierkegaard (1813–1855) was not a theologian but his writings had an influence on theological thought and in a nod to Aquinas highlighted the paradox of faith and what he called “leap of faith” as essential to authentic religious life and although he never explicitly discussed the “You don’t have to believe it but you must accept it” school of thought, it does seem implicit in his paradox.

For the bedside table: Karl Barth’s Kirchliche Dogmatik.

Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768–1834) is often styled “the father of modern liberal theology” and to him faith was an experiential relationship with the divine, rooted in a “feeling of absolute dependence.”  More conservative theologians didn’t much object to that notion but they probably thought of him something in the vein William Shakespeare (1564–1616) in Julius Caesar (1599) had Caesar say of Cassius: “He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.”  John Henry Newman (1801–1890) was one of those conservatives (albeit something of a convert to the cause who had a strange path to Rome) and he wrote much about the development of doctrine and the role of faith in understanding divine truth but it was the Swiss Protestant theologian Karl Barth (1882-1968) whose Kirchliche Dogmatik (Church Dogmatics (in English translation a fourteen-volume work of some six-million words and published between 1932 and 1967) that appeared the modern world’s most ambitious attempt to recover the proclamation of the word of God as the place where God's message of salvation meets sinful man: faith as an act of trust and obedience to God's self-revelation.  Barth’s contribution to pisteology was a rejection of natural theology, emphasizing faith as a response to God's revelation in Jesus Christ; it wasn’t exactly Martin Luther without the anti-Semitism but the little monk’s ghost does loom over those fourteen volumes.  Pius XII (1879-1958; pope 1939-1958), a fair judge of such things, thought Barth the most important theologian since Aquinas.

Barth though was a formalist, writing for other theologians who breathed rarefied intellectual air and he didn’t make pisteology easy or accessible and although Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) claimed to have read all fourteen volumes while serving the twenty year sentence (he was lucky to receive) for war crimes and crimes against humanity, (he had more time than most to devote to the task), he did acknowledge the conceptual and textual difficulties.  Barth seems not to have done much for Speer’s faith in God but, being Speer, he took from the six million works what suited him and decided he was atoning for his sins: “There is much that I still cannot comprehend, chiefly because of the terminology and the subject.  But I have had a curious experience.  The uncomprehended passages exert a tranquilizing effect.  With Barth's help I feel in balance and actually, in spite of all that's oppressive, as if liberated.”  Speer continued: “I owe to Barth the insight that man’s responsibility is not relieved just because evil is part of his nature. Man is by nature evil and nevertheless responsible.  It seems to me there is a kind of complement to that idea in Plato’s statement that for a man who has committed a wrong ‘there is only one salvation: punishment.’  Plato continues: ‘Therefore it is better for him to suffer this punishment than to escape it; for it sustains man’s inward being.’”

For those who want to explore Christocentric pisteology, Barth’s Kirchliche Dogmatik really isn’t a good place to start because his texts are difficult and that’s not a consequence of the English translation; those who have read the original in German make the same point.  Nor will those tempted by his reputation to try one of his shorter works be likely to find an easier path because his style was always one of dense prose littered with words obscure in meaning to all but those who had spent time in divinity departments.  When writing of German Lutheran theologian Isaak August Dorner (1809–1884) in Protestant Theology in the Nineteenth Century (1946) he wrote: “The assertion of a receptivity in man, the Catholic-type conception of the gratia preveniens which runs alongside this receptivity, the mystical culmination of this pisteology, are all elements of a speculative basic approach which can even be seen here, in Dorner.”  Is it any wonder some might confuse pisteology with piscatology (the study of fishing)?

Limbo

Limbo (pronounced lim-boh)

(1) In (informal) Roman Catholic theology, a region on the border of hell or heaven, serving as the abode after death of unbaptized infants (limbo of infants) and of the righteous who died before the coming of Christ (limbo of the fathers, or limbo of the patriarchs); often with initial capital letter.

(2) A place or state of oblivion to which persons or things are regarded as being relegated when cast aside, forgotten, past, or out of date.

(3) An intermediate, transitional, or midway state or place.

(4) A place or state of imprisonment or confinement.

(5) A dance from the West Indies (originally restricted to men), in which the dancer bends backward from the knees and moves with a shuffling step under a horizontal bar that is lowered after each successive pass.  Among university under-graduates (and other disreputable types), the activity is now often combined with drinking contests where the bar's height is inversely proportional to the contestant’s consumption of alcohol.

(6) Used loosely, a synonym for oblivion, nothingness or nowhere.

(7) In the slang of the military slang, a demilitarized zone (DMZ).

(8) A colloquial form used to refer to a Limburger, a person from Limburg (the southernmost of the twelve provinces of the Netherlands; the French form being Limbourgeois).

1300–1350: From the Middle English, from the Medieval Latin phrase in limbō (“on hell's border” literally “on the edge”), the being construct in + limbō, ablative of limbus (edge, border) the term in Medieval Latin best translated as a “place bordering on hell”.  The West Indian English limba (to bend, easily bending) is relatively recent, emerging 1955-1960 and is of uncertain origin but most etymologists suggest it likely came from Jamaica, probably an alteration of limber as it is a test of physical agility.  Limbo is a noun & verb, limbo-like is an adjective (limbolike is a registered trademark and thus a noun), limboed & limboing are verbs; the noun plural is limbos or limboes.

Medieval conjecture which became informal theology

Surprisingly, despite the place it has in language and popular imagination, limbo has never formerly been part of Roman Catholic doctrine and was a bit of a medieval fudge.  It was championed by Italian Dominican friar, philosopher & theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), taking hold in the western Church and perhaps most influential in the popularity was the Italian Dante (Dante Alighieri (circa 1265–1321) who, in his Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)) used limbo as the resting place for virtuous pagans.  Dante sticks in the mind.

In April 2007, early in his papacy, Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022) authorized the publication of “The Hope of Salvation for Infants Who Die without Being Baptised” which some suggested appeared to render defunct limbo, the place centuries of tradition and much teaching held was the place the souls of babies who die without baptism were sent.  An explanatory memorandum from the Church’s International Theological Commission accompanied the document, suggesting it was issued to correct what was “…an unduly restrictive view of salvation”.

The commission however stressed there was no change to Church doctrine.  It remains Church teaching that baptism removes original sin which stains all souls since the fall from grace in the Garden of Eden and that its conclusions should not be interpreted as questioning original sin or “…used to negate the necessity of baptism or delay the conferral of the sacrament”.  Instead, the document merely notes “… God is just and merciful and would not …exclude infants, who have no personal sins, from eternal happiness… from the kingdom of heaven”.  It added the need for publication was not without urgency because the number of “…non-baptised infants has grown considerably, and therefore the reflection on the possibility of salvation for these infants has become urgent”.

Christ in Limbo (1510), one of a series of twelve woodcuts (eleven scenes and a title page) from The Large Passion by Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528).

In theology, limbo had long been understood in two senses:  Firstly (denoted as limbus partum) as the temporary place of rest for the souls of the just awaiting the salvation of the Messiah and secondly (limbus infantium or limbus puerorum), as the final state of the souls of those who died without baptism yet without mortal sin.  Because the Church never officially defined this as doctrine, it’s regarded as theological supposition or, as Benedict put it “medieval conjecture”, constructed probably to avoid the creation of a loophole which unworthy sinners and lawyers might exploit to get into heaven.  All the same, scripture does seem explicit, Jesus teaching that no one “can enter into God’s kingdom without being begotten of water and Spirit” (John 3:5), thus the old assertion in the old Catechism that God Himself “…affirms that Baptism is necessary for salvation.” 

The term "in limbo" is now used to describe an uncertain, undecided, transitional (though not indeterminate) state or condition and can be applied to people, things or concepts.

In Constantinople, because the Byzantines were never as in thrall of Augustine as the folk in Rome, Limbo never really bothered the many but over the centuries, the issue attracted the attention of notables.  Saint Gregory Nazianzen (circa 329–390) implied somewhere like limbo might exist, believing the unfortunate infants would neither “…be admitted by the just judge to the glory of Heaven nor condemned to suffer punishment” and Tertullian (155–circa 220) before and Saint Ambrose (circa 340–397) after, concurred.  Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430) was more stern and said there was no limbo, there was just Heaven and Hell and that of course unbaptized souls are sent to Hell because they were born in original sin and nor could they go to Purgatory since that is a pathway to Heaven.  All he would concede was of those in Hell, the torment of infants would be the mildest although he didn't go into detail.  Eight-hundred odd years later, Aquinas was more generous, noting the original sin was committed by the parents and not by the child and since (1) Hell was the place where unrepentant mortal sinners are sent for eternal punishment (2) only the baptized could enter Heaven, then (3) the souls of unbaptized children must go somewhere else and here was the (admittedly shaky) foundation of limbo.  In a quite modern flourish, Aquinas helpfully added that because they’d never been born, the infants would never have learned of the glories of Heaven so, not knowing what they’d missed, they’d probably find limbo rather nice.  It was a fudge worthy of any Lambeth conference.

Luca Signorelli (circa 1444-1523), The Resurrection of the Flesh (1499-1502) Fresco Chapel of San Brizio, Duomo, Orvieto.

The issue didn’t go away and in the eighteenth century, a radical group of neo-Augustinites, a kind of Romish version of the Republican Party's Freedom Caucus and known as the Jansenists, rejected limbo, the idea of which had for hundreds of years provided comfort to grieving parents, forcing Pope Pius VI (1717–1799; pope 1775-1799) in 1794 to issue the Papal Bull Auctorem Fidei (Of our Faith), condemning, inter alia, the denial that there is a place “which the faithful generally designate by the name of limbo for children”.  It was a rare official mention of limbo but well short of a definitive statement.  Interest was renewed in the twentieth century but Pope Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958), hardly one fond of radical change, in 1943 issued a statement in the Holy See’s periodic gazette again neither defining nor rejecting limbo.  

So, press releases aside, the commission’s document suggests in the eight centuries between Aquinas and Benedict XVI, in limbo, not much has changed; the Catechism still asserts only that children who die before baptism are entrusted into the mercy of God.  Benedict XVI, no stranger to dancing on the head of a pin, seemed both to clarify and cloud the waters by saying limbo was only ever “medieval conjecture” and given there is no explicit answer from Scripture, people seem still free to make of it what they will.

Closet

Closet (pronounced kloz-it)

(1) A small room, enclosed recess, cupboard or cabinet for storing clothing, food, utensils etc.

(2) A small private room, especially one used for prayer, meditation etc.

(3) A state or condition of secrecy or carefully guarded privacy.

(4) A clipping of “closet of ease” or “closet of decency” and later “water closet” (WC), early names for the flushing loo (toilet; lavatory; privy with a waste-pipe and means to carry off the discharge by a flush of water).

(5) Of or pertaining to that which is private; secluded or concealed; undertaken unobserved and in isolation.

(6) To shut up in a private room for some purpose.

(7) A private room used by women to groom and dress themselves (obsolete).

(8) A private room used for prayer or other devotions (archaic).

(9) A place of (usually either fanciful or figurative in that typically it referred to the state of thought rather than where it took place) contemplation and theorizing (archaic).

(10) The private residence or private council chamber of a monarch accompanied by a staff establishment (page of the chamber; clerk of the closet etc) and related to the bedchamber (archaic).

(11) In a church, a pew or side-chapel reserved for a monarch or feudal lord (regarded as obsolete but the concept endures in that the order of precedence is often used when seating is allocated for ceremonial events conducted in churches).

(12) In heraldry, an ordinary similar to a bar but half the width.

(13) A sewer (Scots dialectical, now obsolete).

(14) The state of maintaining one's sexual orientation as a secret (“closeted” “in the closet”, “closet case” etc).

1300-1350: From the Middle English closet (a small private room for study or prayer), from the Old French closet (small enclosure, private room), the construct being clos (private space; enclosure) +‎ -et (the suffix used to form diminutives), from the Latin clausum (closed space, enclosure, confinement), the neuter past participle of claudere (to shut).  In French, it tended to be applied to small, open-air enclosures.  The suffix –et was from the Middle English -et, from the Old French –et & its feminine variant -ette, from the Late Latin -ittus (and the other gender forms -itta & -ittum).  It was used to form diminutives, loosely construed.  Some European languages picked up the Old French spelling while others used variations including Czech (klozet) & Spanish (clóset).  Closets can be tiny or fair-sized rooms so the appropriate synonym depends on context and architecture and might include: cabinet, container, locker, room, vault, wardrobe, bin, buffet, depository, receptacle, recess, repository, safe, sideboard, walk-in, ambry, chest of drawers & cold storage.  Closet is a noun, verb & adjective, closeting, closetful & closetry are nouns & verbs, closetlike & closety are adjectives, closeted is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is closets.

The adjective dates from the 1680s in the sense of “private, done in seclusion”, extended by 1782 as "fitted only for scholarly seclusion, not adapted to the conditions of practical life" (ie in the sense of the “ivory tower”).  The meaning "secret, not public, unknown" was first applied to alcoholism in the early 1950s but by the 1970s had come to be used principally (probably exclusively) of homosexuality.  This, and the earlier forms (closet anarchist, closet alcoholic, closet Freemason, closet smoker etc) were all based on the idiomatic “skeleton in the closet” (which existed also as “skeleton in the cupboard”), describing some undisclosed fact which, if revealed would cause reputational damage (or worse) to a person.  Literally, the imagery summoned was of someone with a human corpse secreted in a closet in their house, one which had sat there so long the flesh had decomposed to the bone.  The earliest known appearance in print was in 1816 but it’s not known how long it’d been in oral use and it usually implied culpability for some serious offence though not necessarily anything involving a corpse.

A walk-in closet.  To optimize space utilization, the hangers are very thin and covered with black velvet to ensure no fabrics are marked.  In a well-organized closet, items can be arranged in a number of ways such as color, season or type and some do it by manufacturer, the name of the label printed on rail-tags.

The phrase “come out of the closet” (admit something openly) was first recorded 1963 and the use rapidly became exclusive to homosexuals, lending a new sense to the word “out”.  This meaning itself became nuanced: “To come out” (openly avowing one's homosexuality) emerged as a phrase in the 1960s and was an overtly political statement (obviously different from the earlier “a confessed homosexual”) whereas “outing” and “outed” came to be used in the 1970s to refer to people making the homosexuality of others public knowledge.  Outing became controversial because of the argument (made sometimes by those within the gay community) that it was justified if exposing hypocrisy (usually a conservative politician who publicly condemned homosexuality while in private indulging in the practice).  In Spanish use (most notably in Latin America) the noun clóset is used to refer to the state of being secretly gay (from salir del clóset), the plural being clósets.

Lindsay Lohan in part of her walk-in closet, here choosing what to pack for an appearance at the Cannes Film Festival, May 2014.

The verb closet (shut up as in a closet) was originally usually for purposes of concealment or private consultation and dates from the 1680s.  The water closet (WC and described also in the helpfully descriptive terms “closet of ease” or “closet of decency”) was the ancestor of the familiar modern loo (toilet; lavatory; privy with a waste-pipe and means to carry off the discharge by a flush of water), the term first used in 1755 and later perfected by the famous plumber, Mr Thomas Crapper.  The phrase “walk-in” was used first in the 1890s as a slang term by hotel check-in clerks to refer to those arriving without a reservation (it’s now a standard statistical category in hotels) and by 1928 was used in many forms of commerce to mean “customer who arrived without an appointment”.  The “walk-in closet” was first advertised in the US in 1946 where it described a built-in wardrobe large enough to walk into, (some equipped with mirrors, tables, chairs etc) although, among the rich, such structures had for centuries been in use.

The Gay Bob Doll

Gay Bob; note the man-bag.

There’s evidence that for much of human existence, homosexuality has been at least widely tolerated and often accepted but in the West, under the influence of the Christian churches, it came to attract much disapprobation though even in the nineteenth century there were those who (without much success) campaigned for legislative and social change, the odd self-declared homosexual sometimes urging others to out themselves.  However, it wasn’t until the 1960s that the still embryonic “gay liberation” movement understood that “coming out en masse” was of importance because with critical mass came political influence.  Social attitudes did change and it was perhaps an indication of acceptance that in 2005 the cartoon show South Park could run an episode called Trapped in the Closet in which the Scientologist film star Tom Cruise (b 1962) refuses to come out of a closet (the episode entered industry jargon as “closetgate”).  Not discouraged by the threat of writs, South Park later featured an episode in which the actor worked in a confectionery factory packing fudge and was labelled a “fudge packer”.  Attitudes and legislative changes didn't always move in unison and things unfolded gradually but that process was still incomplete when, in 1977, the Gay Bob doll was released.  There is probably no phrase that better encapsulates gender-role stereotyping than “girls play with dolls and boys play with trucks” though, in the narrow technical sense, boys have long “sort of” had their own dolls because toy soldiers are (in a sense) a “doll” but everybody understands the difference and nobody confuses the two.

Gay Bob in his closet (with accessories and instructions).

That was what made the Gay Bob doll so subversive: it used a form structurally similar to the dolls parents had for generations bought for their daughters but was obviously something different and vested with a political message.  Even today, such a doll might be controversial (certainly in some countries or US states) but in 1977 when Gay Bob was released, the world was a different place.  Interestingly, some critics now argue that while in the West the legislative environment has become more liberal (same-sex marriage now lawful in many jurisdictions) the liberalization in social attitudes achieved in the decades since the mid-1970s have in some regions or sectors of the population reverted.

Clothes and accessories were available, including those for dressing the “gay farmer”.

By 1977, the winds of change clearly were blowing because in that year Harvey Milk (1930–1978; member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, 1978) became the first openly gay man elected to public office in California (it’ll never be known how many of his predecessors were closeted).  However, if Milk was out of the closet, Gay Bob was delivered neatly packaged in his own (cardboard) closet, buyers able to “out him” or put him back as circumstances dictated.  Designed as something of a caricature of popular film & television stars of the era, Gay Bob’s creator described the doll as perfect for “…an executive’s desk, dash board ornament, the attaché case, the bathtub rim or a health club gym bag”.  Of course, among the homophobic, Gay Bob could always be repurposed as a voodoo doll upon which unspeakable acts of violence could be visited so that was another niche market.  A notable feature was the doll’s “anatomical correctness”, presumably a sales feature but one that necessitated production being out-sourced to Hong-Kong because US manufacturers declined the contract. 

Gay Bob stepping out of the closet.

Just so there were no misunderstandings, Gay Bob was supplied with a fashion catalogue including an explanation:  Hi boys, girls and grownups, I’m Gay Bob, the world’s first gay doll.  I bet you are wondering why I come packed in a closet. “Coming out of the closet” is an expression which means that you admit the truth about yourself and are no longer ashamed of what you are.  Gay people are no different than straight people.  If everyone came out of their closets, there wouldn’t be so many angry, frustrated, frightened people.  It’s not easy to be honest about what you are, in fact it takes a great deal of courage.  But remember, if Gay Bob has the courage to come out of his closet, so can you! With an attitude like that, one can see why Gay Bob was such a threat. 

Popular since the nineteenth century, mail-order was the on-line shopping of the analogue era.  Lee Harvey Oswald (1939–1963) purchased the rifle (a military surplus 6.5 mm Carcano) he used to assassinate John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; POTUS 1961-1963) via mail-order for US$19.95 plus US$1.50 P&H.

Conservative activists were of course appalled by Gay Bob, his anatomical correctness and threateningly optimistic message, describing it all as “a threat to family values” and more “…evidence of the desperation the homosexual campaign has reached in its effort to put homosexual lifestyle, which is a death style, across to the American people”.  The forces of capitalism either agreed or were unwilling to risk a backlash because attempts have the big department stores stock Gay Bob on their shelves were unsuccessful so the doll was sold via mail order, advertisements placed in gay magazines.  One doll cost US$19.50 (including P&H within the US) while a pair could be purchased at a discounted US$35.00 (and to take advantage of the anatomical correctness, buying a brace would presumably have been in vogue.)  Over 2,000 were sold within months and in liberal cities like New York and San Francisco and while some boutiques would later carry the product, it's unlikely any were seen on shelves south of the Mason-Dixon Line.  Something of a footnote to the LGBTQQIAAOP timeline, Gay Bob is a now a collector’s item, examples in good condition realizing over US$200 at on-line auction sites and those with a pristine, un-violated closet will command a premium.  That's the charming paradox: While Gay Bob existed as part of a movement to make easier “coming out of the closet”, among collectors, the doll is now most valued if Gay Bob remains sealed in.

The other Romish way

In the Closet of the Vatican by Frédéric Martel (b 1967).

The author of In the Closet of the Vatican was what used to be called “a confessed homosexual” and the book was a study of what the publisher described as “an account of corruption and hypocrisy at the heart of the Vatican”.  Blurbs of course rely on punchy phrases but it might have been better to suggest “some of corruption and hypocrisy” because the focus very much was on the matter of the “substantially gay priesthood” within the upper reaches of the Roman Catholic Church and some of the implications of that state, a central thesis being “the greater a prelate’s homophobia, the more likely it is he is gay”  “Behind rigidity there is always something hidden, in many cases a double life” was how Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) put it.  Remarkably, a large number of priests, bishops and cardinals agreed to be interviewed and while they did discuss topics such as the condemnation of the use of contraceptives, cases of sexual abuse by clergy and the collective misogyny of the priesthood, what emerged also was an amusing picture of an institution beset by internecine squabbles, careerism and Masonic-like plotting and scheming; in other words, within the Vatican’s corridors, things are pretty much the same as institutions everywhere.  It’s an entertaining read and one who emerges as a sympathetic figure is Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022), a theologian of pure thought overwhelmed by what he came to realize what his pontificate was confronting; he resigned because he realized not only could he not do what needed to be done but probably it couldn’t be done by anyone and, at least debatably, his successors have “solved” the problem by “doing other things”, taking the view it’s better to achieve small successes somewhere.

Titus Oates in the pillory as a punishment for perjury (1685), engraving by unknown artist.

The notion of the Vatican as “the world’s biggest closet” is of course amusing but the matter of a “network of gay clergy” probably has existed for a thousand years or more although in recent decades it has become better documented and, well before the scale of clerical sex abuse of minors became public knowledge, diaries and memoirs often contained sometimes oblique references to the phenomenon, even Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) (an unlikely lay-theologian) remarking to one of the prison psychologists at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) of his impressions of young men and their mentors he’d observed during a visit to a seminary.  Centuries before, Titus Oates (1649-1705), at various times an Anglican and Roman Catholic priest (both offices held through some form of fraud, his life summed up by one historian as: “By birth an Anabaptist, by prudence a clergyman, by profession a perjurer”) had crafted a career as “a part-time religious conspirator and full-time homosexual” that saw him in 1685 sentenced to life imprisonment, the highlight of which was to be “…whipped through the streets of London five days a year for the remainder of his life”.  At least one public whipping was carried out, a diarist noting of one account: “I heard him say that he saw Oates, that discovered the Popish Plot, whipped according to his condemnation most miserably; and as he was hauled up the streets the multitude would much pity him, and would cry to the hangman or he whose office was to whip him, ‘Enough! Strike easy!’  To whom Mr Oates replied, turning his head cheerfully behind him, ‘Not enough! good people, for truth, not enough.’  That showed a certain commitment to the cause but it was the historian John Philipps “J.P.” Kenyon (1927–1996) in The Popish Plot (1973) who had an interesting slant of what was even then clearly the Catholic Church’s “structural closetism”: “The fact that Oates was an active and practising homosexual has always been known, but historians have evaded one obvious conclusion; that this explains the astonishing ease with which he was admitted to certain Catholic circles which one would have supposed barred a disreputable Anglican clergyman with heterodox leanings.”

The Church has a well-know position (some prefer “fudge”) on the subject, the official teaching being an inclination for same-sex attraction is “an objective moral disorder” yet it remains “not a sin to be gay” but it is sinful “if one succumbs and acts on the inclination” (ie you can have your cake but not eat it).  Neatly that encapsulates the advice a potential sinner’s confessor would be compelled to provide: “Stay in the closet my son”.  While not a book of verifiable statistics, Martel does quote the estimate of the pope’s former chief Latinist that “up to 80% of the Vatican staff could be gay” and while (one hopes) that’s impressionistic, such an official might be thought a NRS (normally reliable source) and while “80%” must be treated as “rubbery”, it does hint the real number would be “big”.  Martel’s point of course was the number was significant only in the content of the consequences and hypocrisy inherent in such a cabal administering a church with rigid doctrinal positions on just about anything to do with sex and gender and one gay priest did provide nuance to the “Vatican as a closet” model by suggesting it was more the place being “a honeycomb of closets” in which dozens of groups, factions and alliances all operated with their own secrets and while “everybody knew they had secrets”, they were known only to a few.  Counterintuitively, reaction to the book by the church establishment was one almost of relief because, while the interviews reputedly were extensive, what was published usually stopped short of “naming names” or detailing times and places unless such details were already in the public domain: there were no appendices of incriminating documents or other “smoking guns”.  So, from the Holy See came an almost dismissive “nothing to see here” which probably can be deconstructed as “our lawyers found nothing actionable” but reviewers generally were positive and, while acknowledging the limitations, did commend the word for its breadth of approach and sheer entertainment value although several did grumble about the lack of an index; the most diligent readers will seek the digital version.