Word Kowtow [v. KOU-tou] To kowtow is to show great respect, even to the point of servile
deference; to fawn obsequiously. "His kowtowing in front of the president
embarrassed the rest of the committee." Another meaning that reflects the
word's origin is to kneel and bend down, so that one's forehead actually
touches the ground, showing deep reverence, worship, and submission. In
Mandarin China the phrase for this act was k'o-t'ou, where k'o means to
knock, and t'ou is the head. This gesture was the approved way of showing
deference to the Emperor. An alternate pronunciation, koh-TOU, survives
from the original phrase, which was imported into English in the early
19th century. Many variant spellings were tried, including koo-too, ka-tou,
kotow, and others. The spelling finally settled at "kowtow" in the early
20th century. A similar expression is "bow and scrape." Filibuster [n., v. FILL-uh-bus-ter] In the halls of the US Senate, a filibuster is a long speech designed
to delay action on some legislative issue. The name may seem to suggest
some kind of busting up, as in "crime buster" or "blockbuster," but these
words are unrelated. Originally, the word referred to people engaging in
private military actions, especially against or within countries that were
not at war with their home countries. Another word from the same source
is freebooter (pirate, pillager, plunderer). Both words originated in the
Dutch frijbuiter (freebooter), from vrij- (free) and -buit (booty). The
Dutch word lead to French flibustier, and Spanish filibustero, and then
to English filibuster, which was first used in the US in the 1850's to
describe people running guns to Cuba. The link to politics came later,
but eventually it became the only popular use of the word. Husband [n., v. HUZ-bund] Today a husband is a married man, and to husband is to manage wisely.
We also have the noun form of the verb, husbandry, which is wise management.
It may seem that a husband is one who is "house bound," and in fact that
is not far from the original sense of the word, which was "one who has
a house bonded to him (or her!)" -- in other words, a householder. The
word comes from Old Norse hus- (house) and -bondi (one who dwells). Bondi
was a variation of buandi (dwell), from bua (to live, dwell, have a household),
originally from the Old Germanic bu (dwell). The bu root has lead to an
astonishing variety of English words, including be, boor, booth, bound
(intending to go), bower, build, burly, bylaw, byre, and -bour of neighbor.
All of these words have some connection, however slight, to the idea of
house and home. Marmalade [n. MAR-muh-LADE] This clear, fragrant jelly, made from the pulp and rinds of citrus
fruit, is a 17th century innovation; the original marmalade was made from
quince or apple, rather than citrus. There is a widespread myth that says
the word marmalade came from the French "Marie malade" (illness of Marie),
because it was one of the few things that Mary, Queen of Scots could eat
when she was ill. But the idea that a French expression would be adopted
by the Scots to describe their queen's preferred food seems a little far-fetched,
doesn't it? The word's actual history traces back through French to the
Portuguese marmelada (quince jam), from marmelo (quince). Marmelo came
from the Latin melimelon (an apple grown from a tree that had been grafted
onto quince roots), from meli- (honey) and -melon (apple). (So why is a
melon not an apple in English? The English melon, the gourd-like fruit
of a cucurbit vine, came from a contraction of the Latin melopepo, or apple-gourd.) Orrery [n. OR-er-ree] An orrery is a mechanical model of the solar system, in which the
planets move around the sun as the model operates. The word looks like
it might be related to orbit (to move around an attractor in a circular
or elliptical path), or to horology (the study of time). After all, an
orrery demonstrates the passing of time through the orbital movement of
the planets. Actually, the word's origin is much simpler. It comes from
the name of a place, through the title of a man, Charles Boyce, the 4th
Earl of Orrery. Around 1700, he commissioned the construction of the first
mechanical model of the Sun and planets. Orrery is in County Cork, Ireland. Ignoramus [n. ig-no-RAY-mus] Ignoramus is a derogatory word for someone who is ignorant. The
word may look like it is derived from Latin, and it is, but not through
the usual channels. In the seventeenth century, the word ignoramus was
a legal expression. In Latin, it means "we do not know" or "we take no
notice of." It was used to indicate that evidence in a case was lacking.
The word was brought into popular expression by George Ruggle, an English
dramatist who used it as the name of a lawyer in one of his plays. Ruggle
said he wrote the play "to expose the ignorance and arrogance of common
lawyers." The New Latin root is ignorare (to be ignorant), originally from
the Greek gnosis (knowledge). The Latin root ignorare also led to the modern
words ignore and ignorant. The older Greek root, gnosis, evolved into a
wide variety of modern words, including knowledge, gnosis, agnostic, notice,
notify, and recognize. Plankton [n. PLANK-tun] Plankton refers to small or microscopic plants and animals that
swim or drift near the surface of fresh or salt water, including algae,
protozoa, and other tiny life forms. Plankton serves as food for fish and
other larger creatures. The word came into English from German, and before
that from the Greek planktos (wandering). That word came from the Greek
plazein (to strike, hit, or turn aside), through the association that repeatedly
striking something might cause it to wander about. Several other modern
English words came from related roots: plague: an outbreak of deadly disease,
like a strike against the people complain: to protest, as if to strike
one's breast fling: to hurl something away apoplexy: neurological failure
associated with a cerebral stroke Marzipan [n. MAR-zi-pan] Marzipan is a sweet paste made from finely ground almonds, sugar,
and egg whites. It is often molded into various shapes and coated with
chocolate. This is a word with a long, convoluted history. According to
several sources, it comes originally from an Arabic word, mawtaban (king
on a throne, or king who sits still). This word was applied to a Venetian
coin that had an engraving of Christ on it. Later, the word began to be
used in Italy as a measure of the weight of such a coin. Evolving into
matapan and then marzapane, the word was used to name a box of the same
capacity. After more time, the word referred to a box of that capacity
that contained confections, and then to the contents of the box. Further
evolution led to the English word marchpane, which was the name of the
almond confection from the 16th through the 19th centuries. The modern
form, marzipan, was borrowed from German, where the word survived unchanged
from earlier usage. Aghast [adj. uh-GAST] Someone who is aghast is dumfounded, astounded, struck by shock,
terror, or amazement. "I froze, staring aghast at the sudden apparition."
Someone who sees a ghastly sight may well be aghast, and the words are
related. The same goes for ghost, and both words contributed to the modern
spelling of aghast, by adding the silent h. There is no relation to the
word gaze, although Shakespeare wrote a line "All the whole army stood
agaz'd on him." In Middle English, agast (terror-struck) was the past participle
of agasten, from Old English gaestan (to frighten, to torment). That word
was itself derived from Old English gast (ghost, breath, spirit). Although
it may seem like gast was the source for our modern word gust (sudden wind
or draft), that word comes from the Old Norse gustr (cold blast of wind). Check [n., v. CHEK] A check can be a written money order or a square pattern. As a verb,
to check can be to attack, arrest, stop, restrict, verify, or to threaten
a king in chess. The earliest known origin is the Persian word shah (king).
In the game of chess, which was played in Persia long before it passed
into the west, one said "shah!" when the opponent's king was threatened.
This sense passed through Arabic, Spanish, Old French, and Middle English.
By this time it had evolved into chek, and accumulated quite a collection
of different meanings. Along the way, there were several side-trips, leading
to words such as chess (the game), and of course the English word shah
(Persian ruler). The word checkmate also came from the same root, from
the Persian shah mat (the King is dead), which also lead to the Russian
name for the game of chess, shakhmaty. There is another lineage to the
word check, leading to the meanings of "a square pattern" and "to verify."
This path comes originally from the Old Latin scaccus (check) and scaccarium
(chessboard). Ballyhoo [n. BAL-ee-HOO] To make a ballyhoo is to advertise something sensationally, to engage
in noisy shouting or uproar, to raise a ruckus. No one seems to be sure
exactly how the word evolved, but there are several interesting theories.
Some say the word comes from the name of the Cork, Ireland village of Ballyhooley,
maybe implying that its residents are especially unruly. There is a mythical
creature called the ballyhoo bird, described in the July, 1880, issue of
Harper's: it had four wings and two heads, and it could sing through one
bill while whistling through the other. There is also the balao fish, also
called the ballyhoo fish. The most likely history comes through the native
Central American ballahou, a kind of wood from which primitive sailing
boats were made. Sailors coined the phrase "ballyhoo of blazes" to describe
clumsy ships, and that phrase was still in use at the beginning of the
twentieth century. Stirrup [n. STUR-up] The stirrup is that flat-bottomed metal loop, where you put your
foot when you get up onto a horse. When you get on a horse, you usually
go up, but the word stirrup has nothing to do with the word up. The first
stirrups were simple loops of rope, hanging off the side of the horse.
In Old English, this was a stigrap (stepping rope). Stig- came from Old
German steig (path) and steigen (to go up), and -rap came from ancient
Germanic rapaiz (rope). The steigh- root also contributed to these words:
stile: a series of steps stair: ascending or descending steps acrostic:
a message encoded in certain letters of a poem or story stickle: to painstakingly
settle or arrange Ransack [v. RAN-sack] To ransack is to search a building or room thoroughly, from top
to bottom, usually while tearing everything apart. You can ransack a place
as part of a robbery or plunder, or you might be looking for some specific
item. To sack can also mean to plunder, but ransack is not related. It
comes from an Old Norse word, rannsaka, from rann (house) and saka to seek).
Rann was related to the Old English aern (house), which also gave us the
word barn, and saka was also the root of the English word seek. The original
rannsaka also led to the English word ramshackle (rickety, ready to fall
apart), and a ramshackle building may well look as if it has been ransacked! Acorn [n. AY-corn] An acorn is the nutlike fruit of an oak tree. It may seem like a
kernel of corn, implying that the word came from some association of oak
and corn. While that association contributed to the word's evolution, the
real origin is different. The original Old English word was aecern, which
was the name for the fruit of a tree that could be found in fields and
meadows. The association was with the word aecer (open land), from the
Latin ager (field). Here is an example of what is called folk etymology:
the word aecern seemed similar enough to "oak corn" that it evolved in
that direction, under the influence of popular usage. After all, there
are peppercorns, so why not oak corns? Early spellings of the word, such
as okecorn and akecorn, reflect this misunderstanding. Some other words
from the ager root: agriculture: the art and science of growing crops and
livestock agrarian: of agriculture, land, and rural matters acre: a measure
of land area peregrine: foreign, alien; wandering, migratory pilgrim: one
who travels agrostology: the study of grasses Syllabus [n. SIL-uh-bus] A syllabus is the outline of a text or course of study, or it's
a summary of a legal document. The Greek word syllabe, a form of the verb
syllambanein (to put together), would make a very logical root for this
word, and some linguists have supposed it was. But according to several
references, the actual source of the word syllabus was a misprint! The
accident happened in a 1470's edition of Cicero's Epistolae Ad Atticum
(Letters To Atticus), where the Latin word sittybas (label, table of contents)
was misprinted as syllabos. Later, the misprinted word was incorrectly
related to the Greek syllabe, and then latinized to syllabus. So, in a
strange way, syllabus comes from both syllabe and sittybas! The Greek syllabe
is also the source of the modern English syllable, a chunk of spoken pronunciation
which is "put together" with other syllables to create words. Arithmetic [n. uh-RITH-muh-tik] Arithmetic is the mathematics of addition, subtraction, multiplication,
and division. The word is thought by some to come from the Latin ars metrica
(measuring art). Although it may seem reasonable, this origin isn't the
real one. The word actually came out of Greek, not Latin. The original
word was arithmein (to count), which itself comes from arithmos (number).
Another word from the same root is logarithm. One might think that the
similar-sounding word algorithm (a step by step series of mathematical
or logical operations) also comes from arithmos, but actually it is derived
from the name of an Arab mathematician, Abu Ja'far Mohammed ibn-Musa al-Khwarizmi,
whose works eventually introduced Arabic numerals to the West. The last
part of his name means "man from Khwarizm." Alligator [n. AL-li-gay-ter] The name of the large semi-aquatic reptile was not derived (as some
have supposed) from the Latin alligare (to bind), even though one who is
caught in an alligator's teeth is certainly bound up! The real origin is
the Spanish el lagarto (the lizard), which itself came from the Latin lacertus
(lizard). In the sixteenth century, only the noun was used, so the reptile
was called lagarto, but a century later the article el had become part
of the English word, forming ellagarto, and then alligator. The last transformation
is an interesting example of what is called taboo deformation by linguists.
Words that carry feared or forbidden meanings often undergo exchanges of
some letters. Another example of taboo deformation is the word crocodile
[n. KROK-uh-dile], the name for another kind of fearsome lizard, which
was transformed from the Middle English cocodril. Reindeer [n. RANE-deer] While it's true that reindeer are domesticated in Lapland, where
they pull sleds, the word does not come from the idea that a reindeer is
a deer that can be trained with reins. "Rein-" comes from "hreinn," the
Old Icelandic (Norse) word for reindeer. The "-deer" part is from the Middle
English "der," or "animal," which is also the source of the Modern English
word "deer." This origin is more visible in the German word for reindeer,
which is "Renntier." In German, "tier" means "animal." Leghorn [n., adj. LEG-horn] A leghorn is a certain kind of small chicken, known for its hardiness
and its high production of fine, white eggs. Does the name refer to some
kind of distinctive body appendage? No, and here's a clue to its real origin:
the same name also refers to the dried and bleached straw of an Italian
variety of wheat. The name of both the chicken and the straw comes from
the town of Leghorn in northwestern Italy, where both breeds originated.
Leghorn, Italy is now known almost always by its Italian name of Livorno. Foolscap [n., adj. FOOLZ-cap] Foolscap is paper of a certain size, from 12 by 15 inches up to
13.5 by 17 inches. Most commonly, it is 13 by 16 inches, often folded to
make pages of 8 by 13 inches. One incorrect derivation of the word has
it coming from the Italian foglio capo (chief sheet), implying that it
is the main size of large paper. Another false origin is the Latin folio
(a leaf of paper). Actually, the word's origin is much more direct than
that. The makers of the original foolscap paper used to add a watermark
of a traditional fool's cap, with three points and little bells, and today
the name applies to any paper in a similar size. (By the way, the word
fool comes from the Latin follis (bellows). So, etymologically, a fool
is an airhead and a windbag!) OK / Okay [adj., OH-KAY] If something is OK, then it's good, fine, and acceptable. Is OK
a word or an abbreviation? This common expression has been the subject
of much debate, and many explanations of its origins have been offered.
Woodrow Wilson said that it came from a Choctaw Indian word, and it should
be spelled okeh. A respected Columbia professor said it got started as
an abbreviation for the Old Kinderhook club, a political organization that
supported James Van Buren in 1840. But in the mid-1960's, another professor
proved that a Boston newspaper had OK in print in 1839, before the OK club
existed. The linguist Charles Berlitz thought it might have come from Aux
Cayes, a Haitian port famous for its superior rum. Did sailors start saying
"Aux Cayes" when things were going well? Today, the most commonly accepted
story is that OK is an abbreviation for "orl korrect," a playful misspelling
of "all correct" that may have been generated during the 1830's, when such
wordplay was in fashion. Pogonotomy [n. poh-guh-NOT-uh-me] If you practice pogonotomy, then you are shaving off your beard.
The word comes from two Greek words, pogon (beard) and tomos (cutting).
Here are more words about beards: pogonotomist: someone who practices pogonotomy.
pogonology: writing about beards. pogonotrophy: letting your beard grow
long. Pogonia: a genus of orchids whose flowers have a tuft of hairs. pogonophoran:
a marine worm with many tentacles. Here are more words about cutting: tomography:
a way to create cross-section pictures of solid objects. microtome: a device
to cut very thin slices, for microscope slides. dermatome: a section of
skin served by a single nerve. tome: a single book (section) of a multi-volume
set. Maroon [n., v., adj. muh-ROON] If you are marooned, then you are lost without hope of immediate
rescue, maybe cast ashore on a remote island. If you are marooned, you
might also use a maroon (a signal flare gun) to call for help. Are the
two meanings of the word related? The meaning of being lost got its start
when West Indian slaves ran away and lived in the mountains and forests
of Caribbean islands. These people became known in Spanish as cimarron
(wild people, literally peak dwellers). A marooned person must live in
the wild, just like the escaped slaves. The other path, which gives us
the flare distress signal, also led to the color maroon, which is deep
reddish brown, like a roasted chestnut. Both came (through Italian and
French) from the medieval Greek maraon (sweet chestnut). How is a flare
gun like a chestnut? When fired, it pops, like a chestnut in the fire! Roundelay [n. ROUN-duh-lay] A roundelay is a song or poem with regularly repeating lines. Although
the word's evolution was influenced by the Old English lay (song or poem),
its origins lie further south. In Old French, a rondel is a certain kind
of repeating structure in a poem or song. Old French rondelet, which is
the diminutive of rondel, became English rondel-lay, and then roundelay.
We also have the English word roundel for the same repeating form, and
a kind of song called a round, where different voices repeat the same phrases
at offset intervals. All of these words were rooted in the Old French rond
(circle), which ultimately came from Latin rota (wheel). Pupil [n. PYOO-pul] The pupil of your eye is the black part that changes size according
to the amount of light falling upon it, and a pupil is also a person who
is being taught by a teacher. The two words come from the same roots, with
interesting twists. Originally, Latin had pupus (boy) and pupa (girl),
plus the diminutives pupillus and pupilla (little children). Both words
passed through the same languages, but became identical at different times.
Pupillus passed into Old French, and eventually entered Old English as
pupille (orphan). The meaning of "student" did not emerge until the sixteenth
century. Pupilla came to mean a little doll, and also the central part
of the eye, from the reflected (doll-like) image of oneself seen there
(look into someone's eyes and you will see it). The word passed into Old
French as pupille, then into English. The English word pupa (chrysalis)
also came from the same roots, coined by the Swedish naturalist Linnaeus
to name the resting stage in insect metamorphosis, when the adult insect
is still undeveloped. Werewolf [n. WARE-woolf] A werewolf is a creature that can assume the shape of a man or a
wolf. In many stories, the wolf form appears at night, or only when the
moon is full. Where does the were- in werewolf come from? Is a werewolf
something to beware of? Is it someone who is furry and dangerous at night,
as if he "were a wolf?" Actually, were- comes from the Old English wer
(man), from the Latin vir (man). The same root gave us world, from the
Germanic werald (life or age of man), as well as virtue, virile, and virago.
The -wolf part of the word is from Old English wulf (wolf), from the Germanic
wulfaz. By taboo variation (superstitious alteration of a word that represents
something fearsome), the same root was converted to the Latin lupus (wolf).
That word gave us several modern words, including lupine (wolflike) and
another word for werewolf, lycanthrope (wolf-man). Catadromous [adj. kuh-TAD-drum-us] If you are a fish, and you live in fresh water, but you swim to
the ocean to breed, then you are catadromous. This is the reverse of the
most well known salt- and freshwater fish, the salmon, who swims into fresh
water to breed. European eels are catadromous. The word incorporates the
idea of reversal: the first part, cata- is a prefix meaning down, or in
reverse. It comes from the Greek kata (down, in reverse). The suffix -dromous
is also Greek, from dromos (the act of running). So a catadromous fish
runs in reverse. The opposite of catadromous is anadromous, using the ana-
prefix, from Greek ana (up). Anadromous fishes swim from the ocean into
rivers or streams to breed. Other up and down word pairs: anion: negatively
charged atom cation: positively charged atom anabolism: formation of complex
molecules in life processes catabolism: breakdown of complex molecules
in life processes Vigesimal [adj. vi-JES-uh-mul] Vigesimal means twentieth, and vigesimal also describes any numbering
system that uses a base of twenty, like the mathematics used by the ancient
Maya civilization. Here are some other numbering systems: binary: base
2 trinary: base 3 decimal: base 10 hexadecimal: base 16 The word vigesimal
comes from the Latin vigesimus (twentieth), based on viginti (twenty),
which itself descended from a Sanskrit word, vimsatih (twenty). Copacetic [adj. coh-puh-SET-ik] If something is copacetic, then it's better than okay, it's positively
excellent or first rate. The word is also sometimes spelled copasetic.
Like the word okay, this slang word's origins are mysterious. Even the
word's "mother tongue" is in dispute. Was it Italian, French Creole, Hebrew,
or did it emerge from the southern Black subculture? Whatever its true
origin, copacetic was in use by black musicians during the first decade
of the twentieth century. Some say the word was invented by the great black
tap dancer Bill "Bojangles" Robinson, who certainly had a lot to do with
its spread into popular language. Did the word come from the Creole French
word coupersetique (able to be coped with / able to cope with anything
/ having a healthy passion for life and love)? Or did it emerge from the
responses of Jewish shopkeepers, who said "kol besedeq" (all with justice)
when asked how things were going? Hagiography [n. HAG-ee-OG-ruh-fee] A hagiography is the biography of a saint or other holy figure,
or it is a biography written in a worshipful or idealizing manner. The
word comes from the Greek hagios (holy) plus graphein, (to write). Other
words from the hagios root: hagiographer: one who writes hagiographies
hagioscope: a small hole in the interior of a church, through which people
in the transept can view the main altar hagiocracy or hagiarchy: government
by holy men, such as priests or saints hagiolatry: worship or idolization
of saints or holy men Salmagundi / Salmagundy [n. SAL-muh-GUN-dee] Salmagundi is an artfully arranged salad that usually contains anchovies
or salt herring, eggs, onions, and chopped meats. Sometimes it's called
Solomon Gundy, but usually the latter is a sauce, pate or spread, rather
than a salad. The word also has been used many times as the name of something
with lots of assorted ingredients, such as an anthological literary journal,
or a restaurant with a widely varied menu. Did the word emerge from the
name of a French noblewoman who invented the salad and served it to Henry
VI? (If so, what was her name?) Did it come from the Italian phrase salami
conditi (pickled meat)? Did it come from the Old French salemine (salted
food) and condir (to season)? Whatever the origin, the word also lives
on in a children's jump-rope chant: Salmagundy, born on Monday, christened
on Tuesday, married on Wednesday, sick on Thursday, worse on Friday, died
on Saturday, buried on Sunday, and that was the end of Salmagundy! Xmas [n. KRIS-mus / EKS-mus] This abbreviation for the word Christmas is often viewed as a modern
commercial shorthand, but has actually been in use for hundreds of years
in religious writing. Xmas makes use of an old abbreviation for Christ.
His name in Greek begins with the letter chi, which looks like an X, and
his name has long been abbreviated as X. Using the same shorthand, the
word Xmas was recorded in print as early as 1555. What is the correct way
to say the word? The similar abbreviation Xtian (for Christian) is pronounced
[KRIS-chun], so Xmas should correctly be pronounced [KRIS-mus]. But today,
X is more readily seen as a detached letter, or as a mathematical term,
so most people pronounce Xmas [EKS-mus].