On the other hand, “cracking open the dictionary” can be dangerous … put me in front of the myriad volumes of the OED, and that’s another afternoon lost.
A caveat on Notes: If you are reading the email newsletter version, the happy linking/pop-up functionality described above may not work! This is partly why I encourage readers accessing Substack content via email to click the headline to open in a browser. (Another reason is that any post-publication updates will not be represented in the email version.)
Thank you. I was about to report that hovering (or clicking) didn't work in Firefox (with ad blocker (adblocker? surely not ad-blocker)) or Chrome (without), not understanding that the problem was reading it from email.
If I read your pieces in e-mail, the footnotes don’t work. If I read them in the app, they work.
I still advise reading straight through on a first pass, and then a second time to savor the footnotes and what they reveal, or don’t, about the way your mind works.
I can't believe I never thought to click on the number of the footnote. Thank you! Also, many years ago, in a seminar for her clients, my former boss commented (bizarrely) on the pulchritude of her employees. We all thought she was calling us fat. 😂
Some years ago, I took an introductory linguistics class in college. When asked to define "callypygian" on a homework assignment, I wrote "baby got back."
Sara(h) Baartman was steatopygic (alas, Greek for “fatty backside”), not to be confused with callipygic, meaning “lovely butt.” The “pyg” root seems to have been slang, not elevated Greek, but somewhere in Pseudodoxia Epidemica,Sir Thomas Browne opined on "Callipygæ and women largely composed behinde,” so that elevates it right there.
Having studied European colors (I'm weird that way), I know of puce's origin. Having also studied Japanese colors (see parenthetical above), I am somewhat happy that English colors do not include "rat tea." However, there is a shade of black described as "wet wings," which I find gloriously poetic.
Also, in re callipygian... the first male-male compliment, dating to 3000 BCE, I believe, was written in hieroglyphics, translated as "how beautiful are your buttocks."
I came across the word "callipygian" late, but my father was fond of the word "steatopygia" -- I think he just liked the way it sounded -- and he always defined it as "an excess of fat in the buttocks of Hottentot bushmen women" (I think he liked the rhythm of that), so he must have been thinking of Sarah Baartman, and probably learned about her when he was young.
Anyway, I see the word "callipygian," and remember what it means due to it having the same root as "steatopygia," so I walk backward into the correct meaning.
I'll always get "cyan" right, though, because it's one of the four inks in "four-color comics" -- cyan, magenta, yellow and black, and they were still doing four-color separations when I started my comics career. So at least I've got that one covered.
A friend of ours used to be a dye chemist at Polaroid, so he always thinks and speaks of colors in those terms. He developed the magenta layer for Spectra film and was therefore known in some circles as the Duke of Magenta.
Among a friend's frequent posts of sculpture photos I recently saw "Venus Callipyge". Wikipedia on that topic suggests that the Greeks had a word for that (Καλλίπυγος) some two millennia ago.
Another word that sounds wrong for what it means: crepuscular.
“Livid” is a quite splendid word, especially when preceded by “I was absolutely”. It suggests to this (mostly) English person that someone has reached the giddy limit.
For another word with a ridiculous number of usages, see: pop
- as in father
- as in explode
- as in music
- as in art
- as in a fizzy drink
- as a verb in the U.K. “I’m just going to pop to the shops
In response to S&H Green Stamps, Walt Kelly put out the "Pogo Puce Stamp Catalog" (1963) which even included a page of "Big Zero Absolutely Guaranteed Worthless" stamps. That's where I first learned of that color and tried not to confuse it with the other exotically named one, chartreuse.
I wrote a piece once about people (most definitely including me) who'd thought for years (decades) they knew what a word meant but then discovered that it warn't so:
On the other hand, “cracking open the dictionary” can be dangerous … put me in front of the myriad volumes of the OED, and that’s another afternoon lost.
“Zaftigness” … “zaftignicity” (forgive my improvisation) … I say, “Just right.”
Go for the full German experience: zaftigheit. Sounds better, I think.
Thank you but I’ll stick with Yiddish.
Good point: zaftikkeyt
A caveat on Notes: If you are reading the email newsletter version, the happy linking/pop-up functionality described above may not work! This is partly why I encourage readers accessing Substack content via email to click the headline to open in a browser. (Another reason is that any post-publication updates will not be represented in the email version.)
Oh, that’s why you encourage thus. I’ve never quite known. (Now I do.)
And now I get to amend my emended note and we'll just keep doing this for the rest of our lives!
Thank you. I was about to report that hovering (or clicking) didn't work in Firefox (with ad blocker (adblocker? surely not ad-blocker)) or Chrome (without), not understanding that the problem was reading it from email.
Thx for this tip. On my iPhone, hovering or clicking worked (like magic!) in the app but not in my email or browser.
I was just going to comment on this too.
If I read your pieces in e-mail, the footnotes don’t work. If I read them in the app, they work.
I still advise reading straight through on a first pass, and then a second time to savor the footnotes and what they reveal, or don’t, about the way your mind works.
I think I had the puce etymology in my head somewhere because here in California is the Alameda de las Pulgas.
TIL that there is one "l" in vermilion. Thank you. (Off to the etymology.)
It is also spelled with two l's, just not quite so often.
A vermillion is a worm followed by a whole lot of zeroes.
I can't believe I never thought to click on the number of the footnote. Thank you! Also, many years ago, in a seminar for her clients, my former boss commented (bizarrely) on the pulchritude of her employees. We all thought she was calling us fat. 😂
For years I thought embonpoint was some type of very fancy needlework. 🫣
You are not alone!
Is “bootylicious” a suitable modern synonym for “callipygian?” he asked semi-seriously.
Some years ago, I took an introductory linguistics class in college. When asked to define "callypygian" on a homework assignment, I wrote "baby got back."
The poor TA did not understand the reference.
ha ha ha!
Sara(h) Baartman was steatopygic (alas, Greek for “fatty backside”), not to be confused with callipygic, meaning “lovely butt.” The “pyg” root seems to have been slang, not elevated Greek, but somewhere in Pseudodoxia Epidemica,Sir Thomas Browne opined on "Callipygæ and women largely composed behinde,” so that elevates it right there.
Having studied European colors (I'm weird that way), I know of puce's origin. Having also studied Japanese colors (see parenthetical above), I am somewhat happy that English colors do not include "rat tea." However, there is a shade of black described as "wet wings," which I find gloriously poetic.
Also, in re callipygian... the first male-male compliment, dating to 3000 BCE, I believe, was written in hieroglyphics, translated as "how beautiful are your buttocks."
I came across the word "callipygian" late, but my father was fond of the word "steatopygia" -- I think he just liked the way it sounded -- and he always defined it as "an excess of fat in the buttocks of Hottentot bushmen women" (I think he liked the rhythm of that), so he must have been thinking of Sarah Baartman, and probably learned about her when he was young.
Anyway, I see the word "callipygian," and remember what it means due to it having the same root as "steatopygia," so I walk backward into the correct meaning.
I'll always get "cyan" right, though, because it's one of the four inks in "four-color comics" -- cyan, magenta, yellow and black, and they were still doing four-color separations when I started my comics career. So at least I've got that one covered.
Oh, I love knowing that about the comics!
All four-colour print processes: CMYK!
Then you might like this guy: https://tommysiegel.net/shop/2024-calendar-of-extremely-accurate-birds
A friend of ours used to be a dye chemist at Polaroid, so he always thinks and speaks of colors in those terms. He developed the magenta layer for Spectra film and was therefore known in some circles as the Duke of Magenta.
Among a friend's frequent posts of sculpture photos I recently saw "Venus Callipyge". Wikipedia on that topic suggests that the Greeks had a word for that (Καλλίπυγος) some two millennia ago.
Another word that sounds wrong for what it means: crepuscular.
“Livid” is a quite splendid word, especially when preceded by “I was absolutely”. It suggests to this (mostly) English person that someone has reached the giddy limit.
For another word with a ridiculous number of usages, see: pop
- as in father
- as in explode
- as in music
- as in art
- as in a fizzy drink
- as a verb in the U.K. “I’m just going to pop to the shops
In response to S&H Green Stamps, Walt Kelly put out the "Pogo Puce Stamp Catalog" (1963) which even included a page of "Big Zero Absolutely Guaranteed Worthless" stamps. That's where I first learned of that color and tried not to confuse it with the other exotically named one, chartreuse.
Chartreuse! Is it yellow? Is it green? Is it alcoholic? All of the above?
I wrote a piece once about people (most definitely including me) who'd thought for years (decades) they knew what a word meant but then discovered that it warn't so:
https://www.vocabulary.com/articles/wc/when-a-word-doesnt-mean-what-you-think-it-means/
Inconceivable!