Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Trivial. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Trivial. Sort by date Show all posts

Monday, January 30, 2023

Trivia

Trivia (pronounced triv-ee-uh)

(1) Matters or things that are very unimportant, inconsequential, or nonessential; trifles; petty details, trifles, trivialities (functions as both singular & plural).

(2) In the religion of Ancient Rome, (used as the epithet Trivia) a name for the deity Diana: so called because she was trivius dea (goddess of three ways) and also because she was regarded as a deity with three personae (Selene/Diana/Proserpine).  In Greek mythology, the role (though not the epithet, which is from the Latin) is associated with Artemis (the Greek equivalent of Diana) and also with Hecate.

(3) A quiz game involving knowledge of (sometimes obscure) facts, the best known of which is the commercially available Trivial Pursuit (and its forks).

1700–1710: From the Latin trivia, feminine plural of trivius, from trivium (place where three roads meet; junction of three roads), the construct being tri-(three) + -vium, from via (way, road).  Tri- was from the Ancient Greek τρεῖς (treîs), from the Proto-Hellenic tréyes, from the primitive Indo-European tréyes.  The Latin adjective triviālis was from trivium and thus came to mean “appropriate to the street corner, commonplace, vulgar”.  In English trivial seems first to have appeared (in the same sense as triviālis) in 1589 and within decades was in common use in the modern sense: “Matters of little importance or significance” and thus far removed from the original Medieval scholastic triumvirate of grammar, rhetoric, and logic.  The adjective trivial meant “ordinary" in the 1580s but by the turn of the century the sense had shifted to “insignificant, trifling” and was from the Latin trivialis (common, commonplace, vulgar (and literally “of or belonging to the crossroads”)).  The verb trivialize dates from 1836 while the noun triviality was known as early as the 1590s in the sense of “quality of being trivial” and was at least influenced by the French trivialite or else from trivial, the phrases “a trivial thing” & “a trivial affair” emerged during the 1610s.  There is also the idea that because the trivium was an introductory-level course, it became associated with things at their most basic and simple but this notion came later and is thought by etymologists to be a grasp at linguistic straws.  Trivia is a noun (and proper noun), trivial is a noun & adjective, triviality is a noun and trivialize, trivialized; trivializing are verbs; the noun plural is trivias.

Trivial was picked up by Middle English (in the usual haphazard way) but was used in senses different from the familiar modern meaning.  In the mid-fifteenth century there was the phrase arte triviall an allusion to the three liberal arts that comprised the trivium (grammar, rhetoric, and logic), the lower division of the seven (the advanced four (or quadrivium) being arithmetic, geometry, astronomy & music.) taught in medieval universities, the link between pedagogy and the Latin trivium (place where three roads meet; junction of three roads) presumably the tradition of use in Antiquity that the point at which the roads met was “a place of public resort”.  Some etymologists also connect the very publicness of such places with the pejorative association attached to “trivia”.

As a packaged commodity, trivia had long existed but it began to labeled as such early in the twentieth century, the US-born British essayist (and a genuine authority on the language) Logan Pearsall Smith (1865–1946) in 1902 publishing Trivia which was initially a commercial failure, his own mother’s critique of the text that it “began nowhere, ended nowhere and led to nothing” but for whatever reason it became so popular immediately after the World War I (1914-1918) that in 1921 he released More Trivia, the two combined in a best-selling edition (with annotations) in 1933.  Whether so named or not, books and later television series devoted to trivia (some quite specialized) became an established niche in these industries and the most celebrated product of all, the game Trivial Pursuit, was released in 1981 and it begat literally dozens of thematically-specific editions such as the “Horror Movie Edition” and “X”, a version described as “edgy” and “For Adults” which Amazon recommends for, inter alia, “family games nights & kids parties”.

Trivia by its nature attracted comic coinings.  Administrivia (the construct being adminis(trative) +‎ trivia) was created in 1922 by a US academic lawyer to refer to the administrative load (of mostly minor, procedural matters) carried by a head of department or dean in a law school.  A triviaphile (the construct being trivia +‎ -phile) is a person excessively fond of trivia, often boring others by reciting (obscure or unimportant facts) and the word for practical purposes may be synonymous with triviaholic (trivia +‎ -holic on the model of alcoholic) and both can also refer to those obsessed with the game Trivial Pursuit.  Although of concern only to a learned few (including one supposes, triviaphiles & triviaholics) there is a technical point about the use of administrivia.  In formal use, trivia, as a derivative of a Latin plural, required a plural verb but modern authorities ten now to be more permissive, extending the same tolerance enjoyed by Latin plurals such as data; the “game” sense has always been thought of as a singular noun.

Long a staple of tabloid newspapers and trashy magazines, trivia pages are among the oldest clickbait on the internet and uselessdaily.com, cleveland.com, tvtropes.org, triviaplaying.com, diply.com, absurdtrivia.com and funtrivia.com all have Lindsay Lohan trivia pages, some interactive and some mere lists.

Friday, December 15, 2023

Slight

Slight (pronounced slahyt)

(1) Something small in amount, degree, etc.

(2) A small increase in something.

(3) Of little importance, influence, trivial.

(4) Slender or slim; not heavily built.

(5) Frail; flimsy; delicate; of little substance or strength.

(6) To treat as of little importance.

(7) A description of a form of deception or trickery, literal and metaphorical.

(8) To treat someone with indifference; ignore, especially pointedly or contemptuously; snub.

(9) To defame with a casual or off-hand comment; a pointed and contemptuous discourtesy; an affront.

1350-1400: From the Middle English slight (bad, of poor quality, unimportant, trivial, slender, slim, smooth, level), from the Old English sliht (smooth, level), derived from the Proto-Germanic slihtaz (smooth, plain, common).  Cognate with the Danish slet (bad, evil, poor, nasty, wrong), the Dutch slecht (bad), the Icelandic sléttur (even, smooth, level), the German schlecht (bad) & schlicht (plain, artless, natural), the Norwegian slett (even), the Low German slecht (bad) and the Swedish slät (smooth).  The early fourteen century sense of “flat, smooth” is thought to come from a Scandinavian source akin to the Old Norse slettr (smooth, sleek), derived from the Proto-Germanic slikhtaz (smooth).  It also mean “plain or common” as in the Old Saxon slicht, the Low German slicht and the Old English sliht (level) is documented as as eorðslihtes (level with the ground).  Related too are the Old Frisian sliucht (smooth, slight), the Middle Dutch sleht (even, plain) the Old High German sleht, the Gothic slaihts (smooth), all thought most likely ultimately derived from a collateral form of the primitive sleig (to smooth, glide, be muddy) from the root slei (slimy).

In the (sometimes) organic way of English, from the original meaning(s) “plain, smooth, common, level”, there emerged in the 1520s “small amount or weight” and, in the 1590s, the adjectival sense of “having little worth”.  The meaning "act of intentional neglect or ignoring out of displeasure or contempt" is from 1701, almost certainly from the seventeenth century phrase “to make a slight of”, first attested in 1608.  Interestingly, in German, schlecht likewise developed from "smooth, plain, simple" to "bad, mean, base," and as it did it was replaced in the original senses by schlicht, a back-formation from schlichten (to smooth, to plane), a derivative of schlecht in the old sense.  In English, the original meaning went extinct.  Slight, slightness & slighting are nouns, verbs & adjectives, slighten is a verb, slighted is an adjective & verb, slightful, slighty, slighter, slightest & slightish are adjectives and slightingly & slightly are adverbs; the noun plural is slights.

A slight Lindsay Lohan during her "thin phase", early in the third millennium.  Note the fine ribcage definition.

Slights: Boris on crooked Hillary Clinton and others

Few have managed so often to slight so many as former UK prime minister Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) and unusually, those best remembered tend to be where the victim was friend rather than foe.  It should be noted that when referring to Mr Johnson having friends, the word is used in a specific technical sense, vaguely similar to the form pioneered by Facebook.

Long before there was Crooked Hillary, there was Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) and she had been promised the Democratic Party nomination for the 2008 presidential election.  It had all been fixed up at head office "and the middle-class was quite prepared" but her 1990s style campaign fell apart.  Johnson had tried to help.  In November 2007, writing in his Daily Telegraph column, he endorsed Clinton as candidate, helpfully adding… “She's got dyed blonde hair and pouty lips, and a steely blue stare, like a sadistic nurse in a mental hospital."  “Clinton…” he continued, had done the job of First Lady like "…Lady Macbeth, stamping her heel, bawling out subordinates and frisbeeing ashtrays at her erring husband."  Actually, it was the husband (Bill Clinton (b 1946; US president 1993-2001)) he wanted back in the White House.  "For all who love America, it is time to think of supporting Hillary, not because we necessarily want her for herself but because we want Bill in the role of First Husband." he concluded.

Years later, in mid-2016, confident Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) would never become president, Johnson said Trump was "clearly out of his mind" and his "ill-informed comments are complete and utter nonsense...", accusing him of "stupefying ignorance".  He finished by saying "…the only reason I wouldn't go to some parts of New York is the real risk of meeting Donald Trump".

Another head-of-state slighted was Recep Tayyip Erdoğan (b 1954; prime-minister or president of the Republic of Türkiye since 2003).  Upset about the lawsuit brought by Mr Erdogan against a German comedian who recited a poem the president found insulting, the conservative weekly The Spectator ran a competition to find who could write the most offensive poem about the president.  Johnson won, his entry an ode to Mr Erdogan enjoying intimacy with a goat.  The president met Mr Johnson in 2016 during his brief stint as foreign secretary; the two seemed to get on well.

Slights can be avoided with a little luck.

World War II (1939-1945) veteran George HW Bush (1924–2018; US President (George XLI 1989-1993)) would have remembered Winston Churchill's (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) wartime "V for victory" sign and that’s the meaning the gesture gained in the US.  Unfortunately he wasn’t aware of the significance of "the forks" in the antipodes: when given with the palm facing inwards, it’s the equivalent to the upraised middle finger in the US.  On a state visit to Australia in 1992, while his motorcade was percolating through Canberra, he made the sign to some locals lining the road.  What might have been thought a slight worked out well, the crowd lining the road cheering the gesture which must have been encouraging.  That same day, the president gave a speech advocating stronger efforts “to foster greater understanding” between the American and Australian cultures. The Lakeland Ledger, reporting his latest gaffe, wrote, “...wearing mittens when abroad would be a beginning”.

Monday, June 17, 2024

Quark

Quark (pronounced kwawrk or kwahrk)

(1) In physics, any of a set of six hypothetical elementary particles (together with their antiparticles), said to be the fundamental units which combine to make up the subatomic particles known as hadrons (baryons, such as neutrons and protons, and mesons) but unable to exist in isolation.

(2) A soft creamy cheese, eaten throughout northern, central, eastern, and south-eastern Europe as well as the Low Countries, very similar to cottage cheese though not usually made with rennet

(3) In computer operating systems, an integer that uniquely identifies a text string.

(4) In informal use in the British Falkland Islands, the name given to the black-crowned night heron, Nycticorax nycticorax, the origin onomatopoeic, from the sound of the bird’s squawk.

(5) In Old & Middle English onomatopoeic slang, to croak (obsolete).

1963: A coining by US physicist Murray Gell-Mann (1929-2019), describing the discovery for which he would be awarded the 1969 Nobel Prize in Physics.  The English word quark appears un-adapted in the scientific lexicon of just about every language on Earth but the Italians invented the pleasing quarkonio, the construct being quark + -onium (termination of positronium), a meson consisting of a charm quark or a bottom quark and its own antiquark and consequently devoid of flavor (the name given to different versions of the same type of particle).  The German noun Quark (curds, (and in slang “trivial nonsense”)) has been suggested as Dr Gell-Mann’s inspiration (Gell-Mann's parents were from the Austro-Hungarian Empire).  The German form was from the late Middle High German twarc, from the Old Church Slavonic tvarogu (curds, cottage cheese), from a suffixed form of the primitive Indo-European root teue- (to swell), the source also of the Greek tyros (cheese).  Russian-American physicist George Zweig (b 1937) who (independently of Gell-Mann) co-proposed the theory of quarks, called them aces because his calculations suggested there were four of them.

Gell-Mann’s linguistic choice prevailed but the etymological speculation about quark ran as a minor footnote in the history of high-energy physics, interest stimulated after he was awarded 1969 Nobel Prize in Physics for his work on the theory of elementary particles.  From the beginning the physicist’s quark rhymed with "cork" but Gell-Mann subsequently came across quark in James Joyce’s (1882-1941) difficult (some prefer "rewarding" and Anthony Burgess (1917–1993) was a fan, claiming to find at least one gem on every page)) novel Finnegans Wake (Three quarks for Muster Mark!) and without the literary antecedent, it may thus have entered the scientific discourse as “kwork”.  Because of the context in which Joyce placed quark in the novel, Gell-Mann deduced the author intended it to rhyme with “Mark” & “Bark” and among Joyceians, there’s long been discussion about whether the source was the Old & Middle English slang meaning “croak” or the German Quark which had a technical meaning in cheese production but also was a popular colloquial term for "trivial nonsense” in the sense of “talking nonsense”.  Joyce had certainly visited parts of Germany where the term was in use but no notes have ever been uncovered which would confirm the origin.

Hawkwind, Quark, Strangeness and Charm (Charisma CDS 4008 (1977)).

It’s still scientific orthodoxy there are six quarks but there may be more.  They are known as flavors and are named (1) up, (2) down, (3) strange, (4) charmed, (5) bottom & (6) top, each manifesting in three colors, (1) red, (2) green & (3) blue.  The use of colors as a convention seems a curious choice because, not falling within the wavelength of visible light, quarks cannot possess the quality of a color in the conventional sense of the word.  However, red, green and blue are probably more mnemonic that the traditional constructions from the Ancient Greek.  Neutrons & protons are each made from three quarks, one of each color, a neutron being (2 x down + 1 x up) and a proton (2 x up + 1 x down).  Particles can be assembled using the other quarks but the resulting mass is massively larger and rapidly they decay into protons and neutrons.  Until the experiments of the early 1960s which at high-speed collided protons with electrons or other protons, it was thought neutrons & protons were fundamental particles.  It was during the observations of these collisions that it became understood quarks were the building blocks.

White cheeses.

Quark cheese (sold also as quarg) is a feature of cuisines in the Baltic and nations traditionally Germanic or Slavic-speaking as well as some Jewish sects and Turkic peoples.  It is soft and white, has a relatively short shelf-life and the appearance is similar to cottage cheese or mascarpone; in some languages the terms for that and quark are interchangeable.  The Roman historian Tacitus (Publius Cornelius Tacitus, circa 56–circa 120) in his De origine et situ Germanorum (On the Origin and Situation of the Germans (circa 98)) discussed Germanic culture (clearly they were viewed as a trouble even then) makes mention of a “fluffy white cheese” which may have been something like quark or any one of the fermented milk variations of the age.  The word quark was from the Late Middle High German quarc, twarc, & zwarg the Lower Saxon dwarg, all in use by at least the late thirteenth century and thought derived from a West Slavic equivalent, possibly the Lower Sorbian twarog, the Upper Sorbian twaroh, the Polish twaróg or the Czech & Slovak tvaroh; it was cognate with the Belarusian тварог (tvaroh) and the Russian творог (tvorog).  It’s thought the Old Slavonic tvarogъ was connected in some way with the Old Church Slavonic творъ, (tvor) (form), thus the notion of a “solidified milk which took a form”, an idea familiar in the French fromage (cheese) and the Italian formaggio (cheese).

Founded in 2004, 3 Quarks Daily is a kind of on-line selective content aggregator, augmented with some editorial material; thematically, nothing tends to dominate although the curators do insist whatever is run must be “inherently fascinating”.  That’s something obviously a matter a reader's judgment but such is cast of the net that on any given day, it’s likely many will find stuff of interest, some of which sometimes will fascinate.  Befitting a site which began when the web was barely a decade old, 3 Quarks Daily recalls the time when what the “inventor of the internet” (Al Gore; b 1948, US vice president (VPOTUS) 1993-2001 & in 2000 the next president of the United States (NPOTUS)) called the “information super-highway” could genuinely surprise and delight.  That still happens of course but more prominence is enjoyed by places with content delivered by algorithms rewarding shark-feeding populism.  The site’s name comes from the elementary nuclear particle and acknowledges the debt to James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake, the choice being an allusion to three Quarks spanning the often separate worlds of art, literature & science and the site used to award annual prizes known as Top Quark, Strange Quark & Charm Quark.  A visit to 3 Quarks Daily is highly recommended.

Wednesday, March 22, 2023

Factoid

Factoid (pronounced fak-toid)

(1) Something fictitious or unsubstantiated that is presented as fact, devised especially to gain publicity and accepted because of constant repetition.

(2) An insignificant, surprising or trivial fact (frequently used, especially in the clickbait business; probably now the accepted meaning).

1973: A compound word, the construct being fact + -oid.  Fact dates from the 1530s and was from the Old French fact, from the Latin factum (something done, an act, deed, feat, exploit etc (which in Medieval Latin was used also to mean “state, condition, circumstance”)), a noun use neuter of factus (done or made), the past participle of facere (to do; to make) and perfect passive participle of faciō (do, make), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European dhe (to put, place, set).  When in the early sixteenth century fact entered the Middle English it was used with the sense of “an action, a thing performed, anything done, a deed (thus a neutral word of action in that the deeds could be for good or ill) but later and predominately during the 1600s, the understanding of fact was “an evil deed or crime” (the legacy of this preserved in legal jargon ex post facto (retrospective), post factum (after the crime (literally (after the act)) etc.  The Old & Middle French later evolved into faict & fait and the Latin was the source also of the Spanish hecho and Italian fatto.  The suffix -oid was from a Latinized form of the Ancient Greek -ειδής (-eidḗs) & -οειδής (-oeidḗs) (the “ο” being the last vowel of the stem to which the suffix is attached); from εἶδος (eîdos) (form, likeness).  It was used (1) to demote resembling; having the likeness of (usually including the concept of not being the same despite the likeness, but counter-examples exist), (2) to mean of, pertaining to, or related to and (3) when added to nouns to create derogatory terms, typically referring to a particular ideology or group of people (by means of analogy to psychological classifications such as schizoid).  Factoid is a noun (the noun factoidism is non-standard) and factoidal is an adjectival; the noun plural is factoids.

The modern understanding of what constitutes a fact (except for the Trump White House where the Orwellian “alternative facts” were sometimes helpfully provided) is something “empirically proven, known to be true; what actually happened”.  In the early seventeenth century, under the influence of the development of what later came to be known as the “scientific method”, this began to replace the earlier sense which was really a statement or belief although the word had picked up such an association with acts of crime that it for a while wasn’t clear if the choice by the scientists was wise.  However, by the early eighteenth century London’s Royal Society effectively formalized the modern vocabulary of knowledge (theory, fact, disproof, experiment, hypothesis etc) and the lawyers happily retained their phrases.  The modern use as standardized in science was thus innovative because in Middle English there was no noun, the closest expression from earlier centuries being a phrase like “a thing proved true”.  Dictionary entries as early as 1707 included an entry for “facts” as the “real state of things; in reality” but the reality of the nature of scientific progress was acknowledged in 1729 by the entry “something presented as a fact but which might be or is false”.

Beauty and the Beast

Marilyn Munroe (1926-1962).

Factoid was coined by Norman Mailer in the 1973 “biography” of Marilyn Monroe (Marilyn: A biography), a collection of photographs for which Mailer provided the captions and some supporting short-form text), a factoid something “…that looks like a fact, could be a fact, but in fact is not a fact” and yet comes to be accepted as one, usually because it’s at least plausible, and (certainly in the pre-Internet age), either difficult or time-consuming to verify.

Norman Mailer (1923–2007).

Writing in the particular milieu of the America of Nixon and Agnew, Mailer regarded factoids with some suspicion, thinking them things “…which have no existence before appearing in a magazine or newspaper, creations which are not so much lies as a product to manipulate emotion in the silent majority.”  He made this observation without obvious irony, despite admitting some of what he wrote in the book of Marilyn Munroe’s photographs was “speculative”.

However, even before the ubiquity of the internet, the meaning had begun to morph, with the new eventually supplanting rather than existing in parallel with Mailer’s creation, the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) defining factoid as (1) an item of unreliable information that is repeated so often that it becomes accepted as fact and (2) a brief or trivial item of news.  The newer meaning was first popularized by the Cable News Network (CNN) (although in this newer sense it seems first to have appeared in Canada) in the 1980s when they presented bizarre or obscure, but nevertheless true snippets as "factoids" during newscasts.

A modern factoid site.

Some purists attempted a rescue.  William Safire (1929–2009) advocated factlet for CNN’s color pieces and it was adopted by up-market publications like The Guardian and The Atlantic but the popular press like factoid and it’s become a staple of internet clickbait.  That’s how English works, meanings of words like factoid and decimate shift over time according to use, sometimes coming even to mean the opposite of their original form.  The –let suffix was from the Middle English –let & -elet, from the Old French -elet, a double diminutive from the Old French –el & -et.  It was used to create diminutive forms and in English is widely appended (booklet: a small book, applet: a small computer application, piglet: a young pig et al).  It’s applied almost exclusively to concrete nouns and except in jocular use (and unusually for a diminutive) never with names. When used with objects, it generally denotes something smaller; when used with animals, it is of their young form; when used of adult persons, it’s usually depreciative, connoting pettiness and conveying contempt.  A special use was in suits of armor where it denoted a piece of the larger whole, this sense carrying over to some aspects of military uniforms.  The other suggestion was factette though that may have fallen victim to historic association.  The –ette suffix was from the Middle English -ette, a borrowing from the Old French -ette, from the Latin -itta, the feminine form of -ittus.  It was used to form nouns meaning a smaller form of something and thus, because factette could be seen as an inferior form of fact, the inference might be draw that “inferior” and the feminine forms of words were also inferior.

Saturday, May 30, 2026

Mountweazel

Mountweazel (pronounced mount-wee-zuhl)

Factitious material deliberately included in a publication as a “copyright trap”, allowing identification of plagiarism and potential violations of copyright.

1975: A definition by Henry Alford (b 1962) that appeared in a 1975 edition of The New Yorker, referencing an entry in the fourth edition (1975) of the New Columbia Encyclopedia, involving the fictitious Lillian Virginia Mountweazel, said to have died in an explosion while on assignment for the just as fanciful “Combustibles” magazine.  Mountweazel was not a legitimate family name, the neologism coined by Karen Tweedy-Holmes (b 1942), then an editor for the encyclopedia, the purpose being a fictional biographical entry for the imaginary Lillian Virginia Mountweazel.  For all purposes (other than the doomed heroine), mountweasel is used without an initial capital.  Mountweazel is a noun; the noun plural is mountweazels.

Ms Tweedy-Holmes (there can have been few finer names for a lexicographer) described her tragic heroine as an American fountain designer turned photographer, born in 1942 in Bangs, Ohio and most noted for her commissioned series of images of the mailboxes of rural America, her death said to have come in 1973.  Ms Tweedy-Holmes authoritative (and wholly bogus) biographical entry for the late Ms Mountweazel read: “Mountweazel, Lillian Virginia, 1942–1973, American photographer, b. Bangs, Ohio.  Turning from fountain design to photography in 1963, Mountweazel produced her celebrated portraits of the South Sierra Miwok in 1964.  She was awarded government grants to make a series of photo-essays of unusual subject matter, including New York City buses, the cemeteries of Paris and rural American mailboxes.  The last group was exhibited extensively abroad and published as Flags Up! (1972).  Mountweazel died at 31 in an explosion while on assignment for Combustibles magazine.”  The coining was for the purpose of a “copyright trap”, in this context an apparently legitimate dictionary entry structurally and stylistically indistinguishable from thousands of others, the idea being that were another publication to include a “Lillian Virginia Mountweazel” entry with the same “facts”, that obviously would be a plagiarism and potentially a breach of copyright.

Combustibles magazine (special issue, 4 June, 1973).

Ms Mountweazel may never have lived but in death is memorialized in the Lillian Virginia Mountweazel Research Collection that includes an “extensive collection of Combustibles Magazine” covers, some editions including her assignments, notably “The Whimsical History of Fireworks” and “Disturbing Revelations” about Nazi rocket scientist Wernher von Braun (1912–1977) who in 1945 had been employed by the US government, suddenly rather more interested in the missiles the German could help them build rather than his wartime use of slave labor.  There’s also the revelation the Flags Up! project, although promoted as the USPS (US Postal Service) using “captivating imagery” to demonstrate how the new ZIP codes enhanced “the efficiency and modernization of the postal system”, actually was funded by the CCF (Congress for Cultural Freedom), a CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) “front organization” used during the Cold War to produce anti-Soviet propaganda.  The “messaging” in Flags Up! was to show the way freedom of thought and the expression of ideas was allowed freely to flow between Americans, however remote they might be.  Of course, also included is the “special issue” of Combustibles (4 June, 1973) in which was announced the death the previous day of Ms Mountweazel, killed in the crash of a Soviet Tupolev Tu-144 SST (supersonic transport, dubbed in the West "Concordski") passenger airliner during the 1973 Paris Air Show at Le Bourget Airport.  In the accident, all six crew members died along with eight in the nearby village of Goussainville, Val-d'Oise where Ms Mountweasel had been researching “the negative health effects of sound pollution in communities near major international airports.”  After her death, photojournalism scholar Pierre Menard, acknowledged Ms Mountweazel as “one of the most important in the world of pyromaniac publishing.”  Pierre Menard was also factitious, the name borrowed from Pierre Menard, autor del Quijote (Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote (1939)), a short story by the Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986).

Of course the irony in Mr Alford revealing the true history of Lillian Virginia Mountweazel was he made “her” Ms Tweedy-Holmes’ most famous entry yet that very notoriety rendered Ms Mountweazel useless in the intended function of copyright trap.  The biographical data certainly had been crafted with care to make it resemble in form and type those of thousands of other worthy but minor footnotes from history.  “Fountain designer turned photographer” was the sort of diverse career path forged by many and although, given the “constructed” circumstances, a birthplace in “Bangs, Ohio” might seem a bit of a hint, that’s only in retrospect and to readers at the time it would have been unremarkable; for Ms Tweedy-Holmes, the “in-joke” must have been irresistible.  The title “Flags Up” was exactly what a magazine sub-editor would have chosen for a photographic essay on the “mailboxes of rural America”, that a reference to the pivoting metal fitting (in the shape of a flag flying in the wind atop a flagpole) attached to mailboxes in rural areas, residents “raising the flag” to alert the mail delivery driver (then called mailmen, despite some being women) there was something in the box to be collected for delivery.  That technique (a mix of facts, plausible untruths & half-truths) is what makes the detection of “fake news”, “misinformation” and “disinformation” a challenge, increasingly so since generative AI (artificial intelligence) has placed at the finger-tips of all the ability to create proto-realistic images and life-like video content, something once the preserve of a relative handful.

Official Journal of the Institute of Explosives Engineers, March 2026 edition.  It would seem women involved in “blowing-up stuff” prefer to wear sensible shoes.  That seems wise.

While there was no “Combustibles” magazine (for the entrepreneurial it seems a gap in the market), for students of such things or enthusiasts of the art & science of “blowing-up stuff”, the IEE (Institute of Explosives Engineers (Voice of the Explosive Industries)) publishes the quarterly Official Journal of the Institute of Explosives Engineers, currently distributed to a membership of some 2,000 “highly qualified engineers and specialists” involved in blowing-up stuff.  Additionally, copies are made available to selected academics, professional institutions and those in the business (of blowing-up stuff).  As well as academic papers, features and articles, the journal functions as a trade publication with information and reviews of new products and services.  The editors welcome submissions relevant to blowing-up stuff and, if appropriate, prior to publication, will submit texts for professional peer review.  The next International Explosives Conference will be held between 16-18 June, 2026 at the Parkgate Hotel in Cardiff, Wales and the institute recommends the early booking of hotel rooms because on the evening of the 16th, Take That (an English pop group formed in Manchester in 1990) will be performing their Circus Live show at the city’s Principality Stadium.

Graphic example of combustibility (timber buildings incinerated, structures of concrete or stone still standing): USASC (US Army Signal Corps) aerial reconnaissance photograph of Tokyo after "fire-bombing" by USAAF (US Army Air Force) Boeing B-29s, March 1945.

A synonym of mountweazel is the German Nihilartikel, said to have appeared in 2003 as a hoax in the German-language Wikipedia in 2003 and later picked up by the English version from where it spread through blogs, print publications and such, these serving as “references” appearing to legitimate subsequent use.  The construct of Nihilartikel (being a noun, if used in the original German, with an initial upper case) was the Latin nihil (nothing), from nihilum (from ne- (not) +‎ hīlum (the least bit)) + the German Artikel (article) (from the Middle High German artikel, from the Latin articulus.  This is defined (in the jargon of Wikipedia) as a type of citogenesis (a circular form of citation where various sources report each other, creating a false impression of reliability).  The construct being cit(e) +‎ -o- +‎ -genesis, citogenesis was in 2011 coined by US engineer Randall Munroe (b 1984), presumably on the model of the homophone cytogenesis (the formation, development and variation of cells), the construct being cyto- + genesis.  Cyto- (“cell” as used in biology) was a learned borrowing from the Ancient Greek κύτος (kútos) (container, receptacle) and genesis (origin, start; point (in time) at which something comes into being). came via Latin from the Ancient Greek γένεσις (génesis).  Cite (in this context “to quote; to repeat, to make mention of; to list”) was from the Old French citer, from the Latin citare (to cause to move, excite, summon) and frequentative of ciēre (to rouse, excite, call).  So, just as cytogenesis describes cells being formed and variations emerging from components, in citogenesis what is happening to the assembly of “apparent (but erroneous) facts” with “authenticity verified” on the basis of other “apparent (but erroneous) facts that gained their “apparent veracity” merely from the frequency of citation.

The Pentagon Papers.  In 1971, the USSC (US Supreme Court) ruled 6-3 against granting the Nixon (Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974)) administration an injunction preventing further publication of excerpts by the New York Times & The Washington Post, holding the government’s attempt to invoke “prior restraint” violated the First Amendment (freedom of the press) of the constitution and the claim of a threat to national security was not in this case sufficiently justified to allow suppression of the press.  It’s interesting to speculate how today’s USSC would rule on the same facts.

For other purposes, there are variants of the “copyright trap”.  Organizations wishing to detect the source of “leaks” (documents being photocopied and given to unauthorized recipients) would sometimes make visually almost imperceptible changes (an additional space, a character in a slightly different font etc) in certain copies, meaning an analysis of a “leaked copy” could isolate the source.  That obviously depended on the existence of relatively few original copies but that is the nature of leaked material.  The digitization of documents of course made copying and leaking not only quicker and easier but also made possible grabbing data on a huge scale.  While in 1969 Dr Daniel Ellsberg (1931–2023) had to spend several evenings alone with one of Rand Corporation’s photocopiers to duplicate the 7000-odd pages that became “the Pentagon Papers”, by the time Edward Snowden (b 1983) and Chelsea (then Bradley) Manning (b 1987) were stealing US government data by the gigabyte, all they needed was a USB stick onto which stuff silently was copied as they went about their paid work.  All digital copies of a document are of course functionally identical and even metadata (able to reveal something about the copying (such as a date stamp)) can be edited so what sometimes was done was the insertion of something hidden, able to be detected only at the software level and not visually.  The best known was the “Alt + 255 trick”, a keyboard combination creating a NBSP (non-breaking space; Unicode character U+00A0).  Visually indistinguishable from the standard gap (U+0020) created by a tap of the space bar, the location could be detected using certain text editors so, correctly implemented, it would be a useful device for tracing sources of leaks.  However, “software tricks” can be detected by other software and that's why crooked Hillary Clinton’s (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) legal team (a well-resourced and busy crew) insisted on printing out thousands of E-mails because of fears the investigators exploring the (still not adequately explained) “servergate” scandal might detect in the raw files something crooked Hillary had deleted.

The companion (in form though not intent) of the mountweazel is the “ghost word”.  A ghost word is a word that enters a dictionary, reference book or some other reputable source, despite being “wrong”.  The causative events have been varied, including misunderstood abbreviations, typographical errors, printer's mistakes, errors in transcription or translation, scribal copying errors, damaged manuscripts, corruptions in transmission and mishearings of audio recordings.  While advances in technology have made it possible more efficiently to identify ghost words, the increasing use of OCR (optical character recognition) on texts of sometimes dubious legibility may yet create a few and given the propensity of AI (artificial intelligence) bots to “make-up stuff”, there’s likely to be a new generation yet to be discovered.  In linguistics, the professionals distinguish between “ghost words” and “phantom words” and the distinction matters in their rarefied world but to most of us the latter probably would be thought mere “spelling errors”.

Few have made a great as contribution to the study of the English language as Walter William Skeet, the ghost word but one of his minor legacies.

All that matters for purposes of definition is that the word has no actual history of use in the language.  One celebrated example was “dord”; that appeared in the 1934 edition of Webster's New International Dictionary, defined as “density”.  What had happened was the chemistry section’s editor had written a note saying: “D or d, cont/ density” (meaning “uppercase D or lowercase d is the abbreviation for density”) but a typesetter misread the spaces, blending the characters to create a “new word”.  Until 1939 “dord” sat on its page in Webster’s, apparently without causing trouble but it was noticed during an internal review and a “plate change/imperative/urgent” instruction was sent to the printer; at that point the linguistic exorcism was effected but, because lead-times and product supply-lines were then longer, not until 1947 were Webster’s confident they successfully had “de-dorded” things.  It could of course have been different.  Had chemists or anyone else) decided dord was a “perfectly cromulent word” and use had achieved critical mass, it would have become a “real word”.  Quite when the term “ghost word” first was used in this sense is uncertain but lexicographers agree it was popularized by English mathematician, philologist & Anglican deacon Walter William Skeat (1835–1912), notable for his seminal work in editing Medieval texts.

The neologism “cromulent” appeared in Lisa the Iconoclast (episode 16, season 7 of the US animated TV series The Simpsons (1989-); it aired on Fox on 18 February, 1996.  Cromulent (acceptable; valid; correct) was deliberately not “a real word”, the gag being it was included in the script to be used by one character to assure another that “embiggen” (to make larger) was “a real word”.  So it was a funny line but the irony was embiggen had a (limited) history of use dating from 1884.  In the years since, it has been included in mainstream dictionaries and has found a niche in the mysterious world of string theory, a collection of explanations of the structure of the universe; being under the rubric of quantum gravity, string theory is understood only by a handful of specialists, not all of whom agree with each other.  Probably few would deny embiggen deserves to be in the jargon of string theory but whether the discipline is cromulent science continues to divide opinion.

Warren Harding (1865–1923; POTUS 1921-1923), New Year's Day, 1920.  A confessed Freemason, Harding presided over a scandal-plagued administration and his early death might have been one of those “good career moves”.  Theodore Roosevelt’s (TR, 1858–1919; POTUS 1901-1909) daughter Alice Longworth (1884–1980) “knew everybody” in twentieth century US politics and in summing up Harding concluded: “Harding wasn’t a bad man, he was just a slob.”

There have over the years been many “ghost words” (the authoritative Wiktionary listing 33 instances in English of examples meeting their strict criterion).  It’s not enough that a word is “wrong”; whether fictitious, malicious, erroneous or whatever, to become a “ghost word” it must appear in some work of reference and be presented as “genuine”, enduring in that form long enough to take on some sort of life.  Humorists and experimentalists have of course coined or repurposed words that have entered mainstream use but these are not ghost words because their lineage was documented.  There are also “pseudo ghost words” (those treated as such but with a verified history authenticating the alleged error), a celebrated example being Warren Harding’s use during his successful 1920 presidential campaign of “normalcy” instead of “normality”, the section of his speech containing the offending word almost aggressively alliterative:

“America’s present need is not heroics, but healing; not nostrums, but normalcy; not revolution, but restoration; not agitation, but adjustment; not surgery, but serenity; not the dramatic, but the dispassionate; not experiment, but equipoise; not submergence in internationality, but sustainment in triumphant nationality.”

Unrelated: The mountain weasel (Mustela altaica), an inhabitant of high-altitude regions in parts of Asia including Kazakhstan, Tibet, India, Mongolia, north-eastern China and southern Siberia.

In saying "normalcy", he may have misspoken or perhaps Harding liked the word; questioned afterwards he said he found it in a dictionary which probably was true although whether his discovery came before or after the speech wasn't explored.  Although Harding’s choice was at the time much-mocked, normalcy certainly had existed since at least 1857, originally as a technical term from geometry meaning the “mathematical condition of being at right angles, state or fact of being normal in geometry” but subsequently had on several occasions appeared in print as a synonym of normality.  Still, it was hardly in general use though Harding gave it a boost and it’s not since gone extinct, now with little complaint except from the most linguistically fastidious who insist the use in geometry remains the only meaning and all subsequent applications are mistakes.  In these circumstances, a misspeak “does not a ghost word always make” and in 1920 many assumed Mr Harding had “misspoken”.  For someone to “misspeak” was then understood to mean “saying something incorrectly, unclearly or inaccurately (by mistake).  The word “Misspeak” thus distinguished unintentional errors, mispronunciations or “slips of the tongue” from deliberate lies but it came to suffer a darkly amusing late career change.  Historically, it meant (1) to fail to pronounce, utter, or speak correctly or (2) to speak insultingly, disrespectfully or inappropriately (a use long obsolete) but in recent decades it has evolved as a “weasel word” (a word used to hedge a statement, making it vague; equivocal; ambiguous; misleading) used by politicians and others tacitly to admit having lied without having to say: “I lied”.  So it’s beyond a euphemism (something with a hint of polite respectability) and something most associated with crooked Hillary Clinton, notorious for her “strained” relationship with truthfulness although to be fair to crooked Hillary (difficult, but it can be done), her husband (Bill Clinton (b 1946; POTUS 1993-2001)) did not in such matters set a stellar example.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

A malapropism is a literary device and not a ghost word.  Mrs Malaprop was a character in Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s (1751-1816) play The Rivals (1775); she had the habit of substituting inappropriate but like-sounding words that would take on a ludicrous meaning in the sentence in which they appeared (her intended compliment “nice arrangement of epithets” came from her lips as “nice derangement of epitaphs”).  That was very different from a “mere typo”, a breed that tends either to be annoying or amusing but which, in certain cases, could be consequential (consider “prescribe” vs “proscribe”) but typos can also coin words.  “Hodling” was intended to be in the text string “I am holding”, typed by a cryptocurrency investor who wished to assure others in the chatgroup he was “holding” his Bitcoin position and not selling despite the sudden drop in the price.  Unfortunately, he’d reputedly enjoyed half a bottle of whisky (or whiskey) so finger control on the keyboard was diminished, thus the word-making “I am hodling.”  That proved a linguistic gift because “hodl” (hold) entered the jargon of the cryptocoin jockeys and hodlers (those who do not react to every price downturn by selling) are thought a fearless elite.

Less well-known than the malapropism is the slipslop, named after Mrs Slipslop, a character in Henry Fielding's (1707-1754) The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews and of his Friend Mr. Abraham Adams.  It was Fielding first full-length novel, described at the time by the author as a “comic epic poem in prose”, hinting Fielding thought in postmodern terms before there was modernity.  Like Mrs Malaprop, Mrs Slipslop had a habit of misusing words in a ridiculous way although they tended to be misspellings (“delemy” for dilemma; “confidous” for confident etc) although some were so weird as to defy immediate understanding (“ragmaticallest mophrodites”).  One could thus say her use of the language was “slipshod” although use in the sense of “slovenly; done poorly or too quickly” didn’t emerge until the early 1800s, decades after Fielding’s death.  Originally, the construct of slipshod (slip + shod) referenced wearing slippers and the nineteenth use as a term of sartorial disapprobation was aimed at those who wore slippers or similarly open shoes in setting where a gentlemen would be expected to be in “proper boots”.  In the 1980s, slipslop also was an element in an unrelated linguistic fork as part of the Australian PSA (public service announcement) campaign “Slip, Slop, Slap”, encouraging citizens to “slip on a shirt, slop on some sunscreen and slap on a hat”.  The alliterative slogan was coined in an attempt to reduce the nation’s startlingly high rates of skin cancer and the incidence in the cohort of the population likely to have benefited from “Slip, Slop, Slap” has since the 1990s declined so the campaign was deemed a success. 

Applied spoonerism: First assembled in 1977, the Cunning Stunts was a London-based, feminist performance collective.  Suffering the internal conflicts perhaps endemic to collectives, the Cunning Stunts dissolved in 1982, having seemingly worked their concept dry.  In the UK, much alternative theatre didn’t survive the 1980s, the administration of Margaret Thatcher (1925–2013; UK prime-minister 1979-1990) dismantling many of the often left-wing local authorities that had provided a substantial proportion of the funding.

Nor is a spoonerism likely to become a ghost phrase.  A spoonerism is a play on words in a phrase in which the initial (typically a consonant) sounds of two or more of the words are transposed.  It was named after Oxford don the Reverend W. A. Spooner (1844–1930), who was alleged to have made many such slip-ups (“Our dear old queen” becoming “Our queer old dean”) although among scholars it’s suspected that while doubtless he made a few, there was likely a healthy industry among his students (and perhaps even his fellow dons) is concocting more to be attributed.  Another variant was the mondegreen.  Mondegreen was coined by US editor & journalist Sylvia Wright (1917-1981) who, in a piece published in 1954 in Harper's Magazine, recalled a childhood memory of mishearing her mother read a line in the Scottish ballad The Bonnie Earl o' Moray (that appeared in Reliques of Ancient English Poetry (1765) by the English clergyman bishop and antiquarian Thomas Percy (1729-1811)): “They have slain the Earl o' Moray, / And laid him on the green”, the second line misheard as, “And Lady Mondegreen”.  Now an acknowledged descriptor, “mondegreen” didn’t appear in mainstream dictionaries until the twenty-first century and that was a product of lists of “obscure or unusual” words beginning to proliferate on the internet as bandwidth increased and cost fell.  Not all novelties pleased the editors but mondegreen was nerdy enough to make the lexicographical cut.  Structurally, there’s no reason why a misspeak, malaproprism, spoonerism or mondegreen can’t become a ghost word; it’s all in the history.

Peter Falk as Lieutenant Columbo in his battered 1959 Peugeot 403 Cabriolet.

Both embiggen and cromulent are not ghost words because they were positioned as “joke words” rather than being errors and nor are they mountweazels because they were inserted into the script as something other than copyright traps.  Essentially, a mountweazel deliberately is fake while a ghost word is in some sense “wrong”, the distinction summed up as: (1) a ghost word is an error mistaken for truth while (2) a mountweazel is a fabrication presented as truth for strategic reasons.  There are however limitations to the mountweazel’s utility as a copyright trap, the classic example the legal squabble that came to be dubbed “the Columbo Trap”.  Columbo was a TV detective drama which, at various times between 1968-2003, was shown on the NBC & ABC networks; it started Peter Falk (1927–2011) as Lieutenant Columbo, remembered for (1) always solving the murder(s), (2) his catch phrase “just one more thing” and (3) driving a dilapidated 1959 Peugeot 403 Cabriolet (one of 504 built that year out of the 2,030 produced during a six-year run (1956-1961)).

The Trivia Encyclopedia (1974): Mostly accurate.

The first edition of the best-selling book The Trivia Encyclopedia appeared in 1974; written by Fred L. Worth, it was for years a fixture on bookshop “Christmas gift” lists.  In 1984, claiming damages of US$300 million, Mr Worth filed suit against the distributors of the board game Trivial Pursuit, claiming they had stolen their game’s Q&A (questions & answers) from his books.  There were many instances of copying he cited but his key piece of evidence was a mountweazel he'd included: the “trivial fact” the first name of the TV detective Lieutenant Columbo was: “Philip”.  This was a product of Mr Worth’s imagination but in the board game, it appeared as an answer to that question.  His legal point was that while the board game’s creators could have obtained his other examples from many other sources (as indeed he had), the notion of “Philip Columbo” appeared first in his book and that it was “not a fact” was irrelevant because the basis of his suit was the unauthorized and unattributed copying.

Not to be confused: Mr Spock (left) & Dr Spock (right).

The Trivia Encyclopedia mostly was accurate although there appeared on the cover an “accidental” mountweasel.  The “Dr Spock” mentioned in the cover art was the character in the TV Series Star Trek (1966-1969) who was always referred to as “Mr Spock” (reflecting the practice in the USN (US Navy), the rank-structure and conventions of which were adopted for the series).  Within The Trivia Encyclopedia, things are OK, the character always referred to as “Mr Spock” and the “trivial facts” correct:  (1) Mr Spock was Science Officer on the Starship Enterprise; (2) he was played by Leonard Nimoy (1931-2015); (3) his human mother was Amanda (played by Jane Wyatt (1910-2006)); (4) his Vulcan father was Sarek (played by Mark Lenard (1924-1996)).  In publishing, by convention, authors tend not to have the final say on a book’s title or cover art so it was likely an editor at Brooke House who may inadvertently have put the mountweazel on the cover.  Presumably the confusion arose because (1) Mr Spock (despite his famous and much admired "neck-pinch" immobilizing technique) was rather nerdy in the stereotypical way of a physics Ph.D, and (2) while the series was being televised, the book The Common Sense Book of Baby and Child Care by US paediatrician Dr Benjamin Spock (1903–1998) had become a best-seller, making its author a household name.  Spock being an unusual name, “Dr” became so associated with “Spock”, many not familiar with the intricate details of the TV series may have conflated the two.

On just about any topic, there's probably a trivia list somewhere on-line.

Defending the suit, the distributers of Trivial Pursuit made no attempt to deny sourcing much material from Mr Worth's book, arguing “facts” are not able to receive the protection of copyright.  To emphasize the point, the company provided a long list of published texts from which information had been copied and argued it would be absurd to suggest they could be sued for providing the answer “Queen Victoria reigned between 1837-1901” because that fact appears in thousands of books.  They acknowledged an action might be possible (depending on many things) had they merely published a “book of trivial facts” (a la Mr Worth’s) but a multi-player board game in which questions had to be answered was “a substantially different product” within the meaning of copyright law.  The judge agreed, a finding upheld on appeal and the USSC declined to re-hear the case, thus reinforcing general principle “a fact cannot be copyrighted”.  Mr Worth’s response was that by definition “Philip Columbo” was thus a piece of fiction deserving copyright; the judges acknowledged the logic but found it too much of a stretch to be accommodated within copyright law and did not concur.  Amusingly however, others also copied Mr Worth’s mountweazel with references to “Lieutenant Philip Columbo” over the years appearing in print and on-line, Peugeot in the 1980s even running advertising campaign in which “Lt. Philip Columbo” was mentioned as the “most famous driver” of a Peugeot convertible.  That was a bit of a shift from the company’s original views on the 403 Cabriolet’s appearance in the TV series, the executives not best pleased at its dilapidated state.  Internet sleuths later published close-up screen shots of his police badge. revealing his name was “Frank Columbo”.