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running commentary

The internet is filled with things. Here are some of them.

#etymology

2026

Algiers, New Orleans 2026 May 7    noirnnola.com
Speaking of New Orleans places named after Northern African things, there's Algiers Point. The part of the city "cross the river" from the famous French Quarter and the other more-famous locales, Algiers and Algiers Point yet remain an intrinsic part of the Big Easy. But, is there any connection between the names Algiers and it's near neighbor Arabi?

Well, no. But it takes some digging to find that out, as none of the various Algiers, New Orleans histories online dip into its etymology. Even the official Algiers Historical Society, despite listing other place names the location has worn, doesn't touch upon how it acquired its current designation.

But the linked Noir 'N Nola article from 2020 does. There, it outlines the area's early and deep-rooted connection to the slave history of our country, as the site that many Africans first touched soil in North America, enslaved. As the author Cierra Chenier says:
It’s said that the very name comes from the view of the site from The Quarter -- the hundreds of Black figures seen from across the river reminded the Europeans of Algeria in Africa. Hence, the name Algiers. By 1731, 99% of Algiers’ population was enslaved, making it “the largest concentration of people of African ancestry in the entire region.”
Yikes.

The paper Chenier links in the above quote goes a slightly different direction, however. In it, Tulane University geographer Richard Campanella tells how the country of Algeria "had come to the attention of Americans, and particularly New Orleanians" during the 1815 Second Barbary War. The USA, incensed by Algerian piracy, dispatched Commodore Stephen Decatur to put an end to it, which he did by defeating the Dey. "The action made Decatur a national hero, this being the first major foreign engagement of the U.S. Years later, New Orleans would rename Levee Street to honor Decatur." Campanella further expounds:
Secondly, in the late 1820s, France ... sent troops to colonize Algiers. To New Orleans’ French-speaking population, who were pointedly proud of their mother country, the name of Algiers ... took on positive symbolic meaning—just the sort of thing marketers like to tap into. It’s unclear who first applied the names “Algiers” ... to [this] particular West Bank subdivision, but, then as now, catchy names help sell real estate, all the more if they instill a sense of pride. “Algiers” as a neighborhood name started appeared in newspapers in the 1830s... In this same era, a number of uptown streets were named to commemorate Napoleon’s conquests, with a principle avenue named for the emperor himself. That same intersection of ethnic pride with real estate marketing probably explains Algiers.
I am more convinced by this second etymology.
Arabi, Louisiana 2026 May 3    en.wikipedia.org
Next on my recurring fascination with unusual place names comes the small New Orleans satellite community of Arabi.

In 1517, the Ottoman Turks conquered Egypt from the Mamluks, themselves having overthrown the Ayyubids about three centuries prior. The Ottomans remained in power but suffered a gradual decline in authority, brought to a head when Muhammad Ali formalized autonomy within the empire in the early 19th century. What all of these various rulers of Egypt had in common is that none of them were ethnically Egyptian or even Arab. So, when Ali's dynasty worked on modernizing the land and turning it into a European-style nation, the khedive rulers championed removing the age-old formalized disenfranchisement of the locals.

Enter Ahmed Urabi, an Egyptian coming on the first wave from the common villages into political power, rising through the military ranks into government office at the forefront of resisting foreign influence. "Foreign" here meaning less Ottoman, since the Sultan couldn't seem to be bothered, but rather France and Britain, to whom Egypt found itself indebted in its efforts towards modernity, notably the recently-completed Suez Canal. So when Urabi's movement erupted into open revolt, it was British troops they were fighting against, sparking the interest of the international community.

That's all to say that when residents on the rough-and-tumble outskirts of New Orleans were fighting back against centralized control – attempts at regulating their slaughterhouses as well as the sometimes-illegal after-hour entertainment of those workers – the residents found inspiration via their newspaper in the exploits of Ahmed Urabi (although the American journalists at the time were calling him Arabi Pasha).

Things didn't end terribly for Urabi. Sure, his revolt was defeated and he was banished to Sri Lanka. But it was only temporary, since his aims of Egyptian sovereignty were soon realized anyway, and he was able to live out the rest of his life in newly-independent Egypt.

And this is how a small Louisiana industrial community came to be named most unusually after an Egyptian national hero.
Full dressing 2026 Mar 5    hzhmarine.com
If you have ever been to a port during a national holiday or a major celebration, you have likely seen a vessel looking like it is decorated for a massive party. This stunning display, where a ship is covered from bow to stern in colorful flags, is known as Full Dressing (or Dressing Overall).

2025

it's sugar 2025 Oct 5    wisdomlib.org
Sugar is a beautiful thing. It makes our food delicious, is an amazingly compact source of precious calories, and gives us the beetus. But sugar isn't just yummy to eat. It's also one of those English words with a weird spelling/pronunciation – shouldn't it be "shugar"? Even more interesting, "sugar" is a delightfully multi-lingual word. In Spanish, it's azúcar, German zucker, Russian сахар ("sakhar"), and Hebrew סוּכָּר ("suchar"), for a few of its many transliterated translations. So how did this happen?

Etymonline gives us a delightfully efficient history lesson:
Its Old World home was India (Alexander the Great's companions marveled at "honey without bees") and it remained exotic in Europe until the Arabs began to cultivate it in Sicily and Spain; not until after the Crusades did it begin to rival honey as the West's sweetener. The Spaniards in the West Indies began raising sugar cane by 1506.
The delightfully rich Etymonline entry also explains that in English, the switch from -k- to -g- is "obscure" but might be related to the same shift that struck flagon/flask, and that "the pronunciation shift from s- to sh- is probably from the initial long vowel sound syu- (as in sure)". The word's initial entry into our language is
from Old French sucre "sugar" (12c.), from Medieval Latin succarum, from Arabic sukkar, from Persian shakar, from Sanskrit sharkara "ground or candied sugar," originally "grit, gravel" (cognate with Greek kroke "pebble").
Even more, they also toss in the freebie that the leading a- in the Spanish word azucar is a lingering Arabic indefinite article. See? So many fun details!

However, one question is left unanswered: gravel. In that Sanskrit origin word sharkara, what does my sweet succulent sap have to do with gray gritty gravel? To this mystery, Etymonline yields no insight.

The answer I stumbled into is in the linked "Wisdom Library" page, which I really hope for once is some sort of generated text. It's either that or the most insanely thorough human on the planet. But deep in the well-referenced page, after excerpts about ancient elephant care and Ayurvedic medical advice, lies this key sentence:
The literal translation of Śarkarā is “pebbles” and eventually became the word for hard sugar crystals (drained from syrup).
...which is one of those explanations so obvious, at least in retrospect, that it's no wonder Etymonline didn't bother including it. The sugar look like pebbles, so its inventors called it "pebbles". Amazing.

An afterthought: there is some delicious full-circle irony with the sugary breakfast cereal called "Fruity Pebbles".
So you think you can read? 2025 Sep 22    en.wikipedia.org
I believe I can read. It's one of those things of which I believe myself capable, even when the language isn't English, of at least being able to match together similar words. And yet, when it comes to ancient Roman descriptions, what's on the inscription rarely seems to match what the scholar shows to me the words to mean.

And that's because of scribal abbreviations. Take normal abbreviations, and crank them up 1000% with steroids, and that's ancient scribal abbreviations. We have words in English common enough to be abbreviated (such as mister), but when you're engraving things in ancient times, every character is precious. And so, they would abbreviate any and every repeated phrase.

Most interesting to me, are the parts of the system that linger: such as the &, the @, the $, the % — just name a few. It's a Wikipedia link, so it's thorough to the point of banality, but there's plenty of juicy bits for a language nerd like me to feast upon.
Bette Midler is a Hoss 2025 Jan 30    web.archive.org
No, really, it says so on the big wiki, saying she "was voted 'Most Talkative' in the 1961 school Hoss Election." This bold claim is referenced to my opening link, which now only exists in the waybackie. Although whether the archived page claims such is uncertain; images did not survive the archival process and only text persists. Midler is (in text) listed as being on the 1961 school newspaper staff, if that matters to you Bette aficionados.

But me and this lost Hawaiian WRX enthusiast in 2004 both want to know, what in the high hell is a hoss?

Midler grew up and went to school on Oahu, Hawaii, and while the islanders mix a good amount of Hawaiian language into their daily lives, the word hoss doesn't sound very Hawaiian to me. And yet, some quick a-searchin reveals that whatever a 'hoss election' is, it definitely is an island thing. In 2007, columnist for the Honolulu Advertiser Lee Cataluna ran a couple color articles on this topic. On June 24, 2007 she realized "that hoss is an exclusively Hawai'i phenomenon" defining them as beginning at least by the 1960s: "We all get the concept. Most high schools in Hawai'i have them at the end of the school year. You know, Best Dressed, Most Athletic, Cutest Smile, Most Likely to Succeed ..." before asking her readers, "Somebody has to know. What is a hoss election, anyway?"

A month later, Aug 26, 2007 she gets her answer when Larry and Henriette Valdez share their 1959 yearbook photo as winners under the banner "Horse Elections." She quotes Larry as saying, "Prior to 1960, it was a 'Horse' Election ... a blue ribbon for First Place, Red for Second Place, Yellow for Third Place. We only had Blue Ribbon categories for Most Likely to Succeed, Best Looking, Best Dressed, Best School Spirit, Most Athletic, Most Talented and Most Comical."

But is that correct? Hoss and horse kinda sound similar, especially if you talk with a cowboy accent or a fan of 1959's Bonanza, that old Western TV show where Dan Blocker played rancher Eric "Hoss" Cartwright, a large-but-friendly main character.

The internet abounds with various groups' hoss election results, but few of them delve into the origin of the term. I think it may be best summed up on this beautiful Angelfire page from 2003 (complete with an actual MARQUEE tag, omg I love it) for Kauai Community College's Filipino social club's "HOSS Elections" where they state: "No one knows for sure what HOSS really stands for or what it means."
What does "shoddy" have to do with antisemitism? 2025 Jan 29    etymonline.com
The Online Etymology Dictionary provides a decent overview of how the word shoddy evolved from a factory term meaning "cloth made of woolen waste and old rags" (perhaps related to shed) to its modern definition "having a delusive appearance of high quality." The material was originally used for padding, but then developed into a "commercial cheat" fabric for making cheap clothes, notoriously used in the manufacture of "army and navy cloths in and blankets" for the Union in the US Civil War. "The citizen-soldier's experience with it in the war, and the fortunes made on it by contractors, thrust the word into sudden prominence," the dictionary summarizes without mentioning any Jewish connection.

They then expand on this by providing this longer quote of a passage from Henry Morford, "The Days of Shoddy: A Novel of the Great Rebellion in 1861," published in Philadelphia in 1863:
The Days of Shoddy, as the reader will readily anticipate, are the opening months of the present war, at which time the opprobrious name first came into general use as a designation for swindling and humbug of every character; and nothing more need be said to indicate the scope of this novel.
But unfortunately that's not the whole story, as I've discovered reading author Steven R. Weisman in his 2018 book The Chosen Wars: How Judaism Became an American Religion. On page 148 in the chapter Anti-Semitism in the North and South he writes:
On the Union side, anti-Jewish prejudice flared over the role of Jews in businesses that profited from the war, often featured in news stories and cartoons depicting Jews as avaricious, disloyal, and greedy. These focused especially on poorly made uniforms made from shredded or discarded fiber known as “shoddy.” Shoddy became an anti-Semitic slur, so widespread was the assumption that it was Jews who produced such goods. “In the media, the theme of ‘shoddy,’ the purported manipulation of financial institutions, the alleged subversive complicity with the Confederacy, the supposed exploitation of military personnel by Jewish camp followers, and the claims of foreign intervention against the interest of the North continued unabated to plague the image of Jews,” the historians Gary L. Bunker and John J. Appel write.

2024

malarkey's cousin, ackamarackus 2024 Dec 3    greensdictofslang.com
A note on the etymology entry for malarkey reads: "Another slang term meaning much the same thing at about the same time in U.S. was ackamarackus (1934)."

That word's not in my regular dictionary. But there are lots of dictionaries online, so linked is a definition and some quotes of it in usage from Green's Dictionary of Slang (Jonathon Green is an Oxford-educated lexicographer). He says the word comes from pig latin (although I'm not sure how, exactly) and means "a fraudulent tale, a tall story, nonsense; usu. in phr. old ackamarackus."
The etymology of "smack dab" is uknown 2024 Dec 3    theidioms.com
Nobody knows the origins of the phrase smack dab. Although its usage is primarily American and dates to the late 1800s and clearly relates to the adverbial use of the word smack, how dab got involved is as-of-yet unknown. Searching the web returns many people asking but receiving no answers.
Etymological Twins: Boulevard and Bulwark 2024 Nov 21    thoughtco.com
One of the neat things you find in etymology (nerd alert, obviously) is when a foreign word enters the English language multiple times, each successive borrowing taking on a new meaning in English. This is called "etymological twins," a sub-type of linguistic doublets. Famous examples of etymological twins include the words chief and chef, host and guest, hotel and hostel, warranty and guarantee, goal and jail. These twin words can drift in both form and meaning, sometimes to the point where the pair becomes quite obscure, such as in entire and integer. The linked ThoughtCo blog post collects excerpts from language experts on how these twins come to be, and other forms of doublets as well. There are lists online of course of etymological twins, such as (as you'd expect) the big wiki, but those lists are not exhaustive.

So it's fun when you stumble across twins new to yourself, as I did today, with bulwark and boulevard. Both come via the Middle Dutch word bolwerc meaning "wall of a fortification," although obviously it is boulevard that has drifted further in both form and meaning. For how we got there, I'll let the Online Etymology Dictionary do the honors:
originally "top surface of a military rampart" (15c.), from a garbled attempt to adopt Middle Dutch bolwerc "wall of a fortification" into French, which at that time lacked a -w- in its alphabet.

The notion is of a promenade atop demolished city walls, which would be wider than the old streets. Originally in English with conscious echoes of Paris; in U.S., since 1929, used of multi-lane limited-access urban highways.
New Mexico is not named after the country of Mexico 2024 Oct 27    en.wikipedia.org
They probably teach you this if you go to school in New Mexico, but somehow this information is new to me. "New Mexico" predates the country of Mexico by several hundred years.
New Mexico received its name long before the present-day country of Mexico won independence from Spain and adopted that name in 1821. The name "Mexico" derives from Nahuatl and originally referred to the heartland of the Mexica, the rulers of the Aztec Empire, in the Valley of Mexico. Following their conquest of the Aztecs in the early 16th century, the Spanish began exploring what is now the Southwestern United States calling it Nuevo México. In 1581, the Chamuscado and Rodríguez Expedition named the region north of the Rio Grande San Felipe del Nuevo México. The Spaniards had hoped to find wealthy indigenous cultures similar to the Mexica. The indigenous cultures of New Mexico, however, proved to be unrelated to the Mexica and lacking in riches, but the name persisted.
Lebenskünstler 2024 Oct 25    blogs.transparent.com
A Flickr contact of mine has his job description listed as Lebenskünstler which my extremely rudimentary German was enough that I saw "life" and "art" in there, but could make no more sense of the word. Internet translation automata rendered it in English as bon vivant. Which... believe it or not, is actually French, not English. And is also a phrase I cannot define. M-W to the rescue:
In French, the phrase literally means “good liver.” ... a bon vivant is one who lives well. English speakers have used bon vivant since the late 17th century to refer specifically to those who subscribe to a particular kind of good living—one that involves lots of social engagements and the enjoyment of fancy food and drink.
But I also found the linked blog post, which disagrees with that translation of Lebenskünstler. It is an article specifically about the inherent difficulty in translating Lebenskünstler into English, quoting the juicy bit here:
A Lebenskünstler is a person that manages to deal with problems in life in a positive and artful way. They have mastered the Lebenskunst (art of living). This is a very philosophical term, which was already developed in Roman times (ars vivendi in Latin). But in short, it means that by self-awareness and self-reflection, you manage to understand yourself and manage with any and every situation in life.
Is there no English word for that? The author suggests hedonism, a word coming from the Greek word for pleasure, but which now fully means "self-indulgent." Hedonism carries too much negative connotation for me to accept it as a translation for Lebenskünstler.

We strike gold in the article's comments, though, where someone attempts the word Pollyanna. Yet another word I don't know the meaning of. Resorting once again to M-W, a Pollyanna is "a person characterized by irrepressible optimism and a tendency to find good in everything." This word comes from the title character of a 1913 children's book. From Wikipedia:
Pollyanna's philosophy of life centers on what she calls "The Glad Game", an optimistic and positive attitude she learned from her father. The game consists of finding something to be glad about in every situation, no matter how bleak it may be.
Curiously, the dictionary always capitalizes Pollyanna but Wikipedia does not. A mark of this word's recent entry into our language, perhaps.

This comment is meandering enough already, but I feel compelled to also throw into the mix the word epicurean, not as a translation of lebenskünstler, but as a properly English alternative to bon vivant. Coming from the philosophy of Epicurus, the word has drifted over the years (and lost its capitalization) to now have the definition: "one with sensitive and discriminating tastes especially in food or wine."
The word epicure is currently associated with indulging the appetite, but that is a long way from the teachings of the man to whom we owe the word. The ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus taught a philosophy of simple pleasure, friendship, and a secluded life. He believed in the pursuit of pleasure, but pleasure for him equated with tranquility and freedom from pain—not the indulgence of the senses. However, detractors of Epicurus in his own time and later reduced his notions of pleasure to material and sensual gratification. When epicure entered English in the 16th century, the philosophy of Epicurus had been trivialized, and so the word became synonymous with “hedonist.” Later use carried the notion of refinement of palate that we see in the word today.
Relating all this above language trivia will be sure to make you an instant hit at parties and soirées. Indulge me one last excerpt:
As is typical for words that have been borrowed from modern French, soiree in English signifies the fancy version of a simple “party”: an evening event that is formal or refined in some way.
Appendicitis Mountain 2024 Oct 14    idahoaclimbingguide.com
Journeying my way around Google Maps, as one does, I did a double-take when I stumbled across a mountain in Idaho with an unlikely name: Appendicitis.

Well, as this link describes, that's what happens when the government surveyor sent to measure the mountains gets struck by a sudden case of Appendicitis while out surveying. The surveyor, Bannon, survived thanks to a local doctor, and and its been Appendicitis Mountain ever since.
Refried beans are only fried once 2024 Sep 27    gran.luchito.com
This is doubtless common knowledge to any of the hundreds of millions of people who make refried beans, so I'm a little embarrassed I'm only learning this now, but "refried" beans are only fried once. The "refried" In the name comes from a mistranslation of the Spanish word "refrito." "Refrito" uses the prefix "re-" which unlike English, in Spanish doesn't mean "twice" but "very" – meaning the actual translation is "well fried beans."

Still tasty as all get-out, though.
SP Crater 2024 Aug 6    books.google.com
Why is there a crater in Arizona named "SP"? Isn't that a strange name for a Volcano? Why, yes, it is.

Quoth the Volcano Adventure Guide from 2005:
It is located on private ranch land and was named by the original owner, C.J. Babbit, in the 1880s. He was not, alas, as poetic as [the man who named the similar-looking Sunset Crater]. The bowl-shaped crater and the black spatter on the rim reminded this earthly person of a pot of excrement, and the name stuck. Mapmakers couldn't bring themselves to spell out the name, so it became "SP" – probably the only volcano in the world to be called after a rude acronym.
"Shit Pot". "SP" stands for "Shit Pot."
Why are complex things "Byzantine"? 2024 Jul 30    metmuseum.org
It seems rude that the most lasting legacy of the eastern half of the Roman empire is that the word we use to describe them also means "frustratingly complex." How did this word 'Byzantine' come to mean this? Was racism involved? Racism was involved, wasn't it?

According to this article, though the word "byzantine" didn't enter common usage until the 1960s, even Napoleon warned his people not to become preoccupied with "petty quarrels" like the court of the Byzantine emperor, so I guess it's fair to say that the Byzantine empire's reputation for busying itself with inefficiencies, well-earned or otherwise, has if nothing else been enduring.
Let's do it 2024 Jun 26    northcoastjournal.com
There's a town in the timber country of far northern California called "Loleta." Why name a town after a Nabokov book about a ... you know? Well, it's not. That book wasn't published until 1955, whereas this town was named in 1893. However, the name is still bad. Because it turns out that... well, read it direct from the source (Ellen Golla, in a 2007 letter to the editor of Humboldt County's Times-Standard):
"In 1893, the residents of what was then known as Swauger's Station decided to change the town's name. Mrs. Rufus F. Herrick consulted a Wiyot elder to find an appropriate indigenous appellation. The Indians actually called it katawólo 't.

A joke was played on Mrs. Herrick. The elderly gentleman told her that it was hó wiwItak. This does not translate as 'beautiful place at the end of the river,' but rather 'Let's have intercourse!'

She interpreted the last part of the phrase, in baby-talk fashion, as Loleta. And thus she suggested 'Loleta' to the residents of the town, which they accepted."
Etymology Online Dictionary in a Red Letter Media video 2024 Mar 5    etymonline.com
My worlds are colliding... apparently in the original Mr. Plinkett Red Letter Media Star Wars Phantom Menace review that went viral a few years back and sent me on a spiral of watching thousands of hours of their other reviews, one of the "stock" photos they used happens to be a photo of the office of Douglas Harper, the creator of my much-beloved and daily resource Online Etymology Dictionary. This is nuts. Coincidence? Or does RLM also love Etymonline?
What is the letter "i" doing in the word "fruit"? 2024 Feb 23    english.stackexchange.com
My kid is learning to read and write, and the extra letter "i" in the word "fruit" threw her off. I jumped into explain, and then realized I couldn't. The trusty Online Etymology Dictionary tells us fruit comes from the Latin "fructus" by way of Old French, by which point it's already picked up the "i", but goes no further than this. So why did the "i" in "fruit" linger when so many other French-originating words have their spelling drift? Enter this short Stack Exchange thread, where someone throws a bunch of random words with "ui" into a jumbled question (the words "sluice" and "bruise" do contain the digraph "ui", the words "ruin" and "suicide" (like the word "fruition") clearly do not). The solitary answer doesn't address the word "fruit" – but it does contain a key.

The English digraph "ui" originally represented the "long u" (aka /juː/) – a sound like the "u" in "university" or "rebuke". But because of gradual phonetic changes in the language, the /juː/ sound, when coming after certain consonants including /r/, gets reduced to sounding nearly identical to "long oo" (aka /uː/) as in "truce" or "loop". So now "ui" becomes an uncommon but accepted way to make this /uː/ sound, and when an English speaker confronts the French-spelled word "fruit" they are not confused as how to pronounce it. If ambiguity from the "ui" did exist, the spelling would likely have adapted over time. But it has not, and so English retains the "i" in "fruit".

I am not a language expert; there's a good chance I'm wrong. But maybe I'm not.
Why Name a Street After Locusts? 2024 Feb 14    backofthecerealbox.com
The linked blog post from 2012 asks the same question that I had – why are so many streets named "Locust"? Locusts, after all, are gross vermin, and streets tend to named after desirable things or presidents or people's names. Frustratingly, though the blog post links to an answer, that answer is now missing due to internet rot. However, this 2006 newspaper article from Centralia (wherever the hell that is) contains what is likely the answer to my question: "Despite the joke that Locust referred to the destructive swarming insect, the street's name is in reference to the tree species, as are most streets in the area." And that not only makes sense, but it's so obvious I'm wondering why I couldn't come up with that answer on my own.

2023

What is the origin of the word "weeaboo"? 2023 Nov 15    quora.com
Perry Bible Fellowship and a 4chan word filter conspire to forever change the English language.
Mojibake 2023 Oct 26    en.wikipedia.org
Apparently messed up character encoding is so prominent in Japan that there's a word for it. What a world we've made.
How India changed the English language 2023 Oct 16    bbc.com
I consider myself an armchair enthusiast of etymology – always looking words up to see where they came from. But this article from the BBC, put out in 2015 to promote the new edition of a 1886 book Hobson-Jobson: The Definitive Glossary of British India (a "classic work of Victorian scholarship" according to Oxford University Press, the publisher), delves into many word histories that spring from parts the world I'd never suspected.