Friday, 31 January 2020

Hunting and pecking

There are things about smartphones that bother me when I see them in use. (I'm not a user myself, you understand: Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for islands of self-absorption who avoid eye-contact and court Repetitive Strain Injuries. The temptation would be too great.

Chief among these, apart from the standing invitation to be anti-social, is what happens to users' thumbs. Cradling the phone in the fingers of both hands and typing with two thumbs can lead to stenosing tenosynovitis, or ‘Trigger Thumb‘ (or even – less cryptically...
<aside subject="Trigger Thumb">
Trigger Thumb gets its name from the typical physical jerk and popping sound as the joint moves into/out of place.
<philological_observation>
When only specialists (in this case, specialists in orthopædics) have need of a term, they use what suits their needs – often leaving lay people wondering what they're on about. 
When an idea gets a wider use, as the needs of the users have changed, the term changes to reflect a new focus. "Trigger" Thumb referred to a characteristic sign of the pathology – what a diagnostician should look for; in medical terms, a sign (what an observer sees) rather than a symptom (what a patient feels). So when the same thing started being felt by a wider range of users, a more specific term was needed.
<autobiographical_note>

When my mother (whom saints preserve, [and they better had]) was working at Metal Box in the late '60s, when ring-pull cans were in development, they were called –  in the language of Metal Box technicians 'easy-open ends'. What mattered to those technicians was only the end of the can: specifically, that it was easy to open. 
Obviously that clunky name had to change, and the marketing people came up (in the UK) with 'ring-pull can'. 
<shared_language>
In the US the cans had 'pull-tabs' I gather from Wikipedia.
</shared_language> 
The new expression reflected what was important for the users
</autobiographical_note>
</philological_observation>
</aside>
...– "Texting Thumb").

Winged Words

I've been asked about the derivation of lurgy. A Google search for etymology lurgy leads to confusing results:
1950s (originally spelled lurgi ): used in the British radio series The Goon Show and probably invented by its writers, though possibly from an English dialect term.

So...? What's confusing about that? Well, click on the arrow for further information and you get this:

A 1950s coining with recorded usage going back to the beginning of the 19th century.

The word strikes me as owing something to India (look at the menu of an Indian restaurant; 'urg' is the sort of word-bit (that's morpheme, if you want the $10 word) you'd expect; murgh is Hindi for chicken, so it is not uncommon in that context. But my questioner said that the word cropped up in the context of an Indian asking what the word lurgy meant.

Lurgy/i was a dialect word that referred to laziness. Oxford's Lexico says this:

This was the word that Spike Milligan adopted for the Goon Show.

Spike Milligan was born in India, and in any case may have been exposed to *urg* words during his army service (and in a lifetime of Indian restaurants).  It doesn't seem to me impossible that these Indian influences led him to adopt an existing word that sounded somehow Indian (and looked it, in its lurgi guise).

That's what I think anyway; it's time to go though.

b

Update: 2020.02.01.12.30 – Added PS

PS Apropos of nothing, I've just heard on the radio yet another mis-stressing of Così fan tutte and I've thought that rather than just wincing (after all, the accent is there, and you don't need to be a professor of Italian to realize that it must do something) I should publicize this mnemonic: così means "like that" and it is stressed like that ("like that" – co). OK, as you were, it's now safe to go back to Classic FM.

Update: 2020.05.18.12.30 – Added missing bit of sentence in blue. Sorry.

Tuesday, 14 January 2020

That's one way of looking at it

I've been thinking about – among other things (hence my failure to add to the Harmless Drudgery mountain (slag heap?) for the best part of  two weeks) – obsession. In particular I've been thinking about what obsession, gunwale, and titanic have in  common.

People with an etymological bent (sic – I‘m reminded of Joni  Mitchell‘s ‘That  girl is twisted‘) – will be familiar with the random arising of questions such as "What‘s obsession got to do with sitting?‘
<grandmothers_egg_sucking>
(And I know it should be grandmothers', but the compiler wouldn't be able to handle apostrophes; I know the compiler is a figment of my imagination, but if a conceit‘s worth pursuing it‘s worth pursuing to the last syllabub of recorded time.) 
Words built from some variant of "session" (not -cession, which is a whole 'nother kettle of worms) include somewhere along the line the idea of sitting. At its simplest, for example, a court that  is  ‘in session‘  is sitting.  Session musicians "sit in". And the Holy See involves sitting on a particular sort of chair (whence the building that houses it, a cathedral, gets its name). 
<RC_note>
Ex cathedra pronouncements are reserved for when the Pope Really Really Means It.
<RC_note> 
Etymonline‘s entry for "obsess" explains further:
</grandmothers_egg_sucking>
So besieging – the now obsolete meaning of obsession – involves an army encircling a town and just sitting it out. (I discussed words to do with sitting a while ago, here.) If you think of the poor besieged  townsfolk,  who can‘t get anywhere, by any path, without coming up against the besieging force, you can see where the modern sense comes from: any thought leads to the same place  – the obsession (the besieging enemy).

So ob and sedere got together to concoct the military  meaning, and psychotherapy took the ball and ran with it – so successfully that the ‘besieging‘ idea withered on the vine: obsession isn't just a metaphor; it‘s a metaphor that turned into another metaphor with a totally different meaning.

Which brings me to  gunwale, commonly reduced to gunnel. Most  native speakers of English have met the expression "laden to the gunnels" (OK make that ‘about a third of us, with the other two thirds saying "packed to the gunnels"). The gunnel is a wide plank at the edge of the deck, and if a ship is laden to the gunnels its load is so heavy that the ship  is low in the water.

But if you peel back the superficial metaphor (and when I said "plank" I was giving the game away, as today wood need not  be involved and often isn't) you find out what the gun is doing. On a sailing ship intended for battle the edge of the deck was reinforced with an especially sturdy plank, which supported the cannon – the gun wale.
<further_reading>
Pick the bones out of this if you're interested in the wale bit.
</further_reading>
Like obsession, gunnel (in expressions such as "laden/full to the gunnels") started life as a metaphor, and was pressed into use as another totally different metaphor.

You can probably see where I‘m going with this; the story with titanic is similar. I‘ll just sketch out the bare bones:

Titans (powerful gods) 👉 titanic (=big and powerful) 👉 Titanic: big/powerful ship

Along comes an iceberg and one metaphor gets flipped on its head to make another: something that‘s titanic can either be big/strong/influential ("a titanic struggle") or it can have a capital T and be over-confident and doomed to failure.

There must be more such metaphors  that have been given a new lease of life as newly formed metaphors, but this has gone on long enough...
<autobiographical_note>
(as has this accursed backup)
</autobiographical_note>
.. and I  must return to the land  of the living.

b



Thursday, 2 January 2020

Once bittern, twice shrike.

Boom boom. That is all.

Nearly 7 years ago, with the chutzpah of a fairly sprightly (at the time) recent-notcher-up of the big 60, I wrote this:
I had a difference of opinion with MrsK the other day. We were in the seventh circle of la città dolente, or PC World as it is more commonly known, looking for a new laptop. In defence of one I pointed out that it did not have Windows 8 (which to me made it preferable). She wanted to know why this was an advantage, and I said that with any new operating system there's more to go wrong; tried and trusted software is no longer supported. 
This was further evidence of my defeatism, she said. Why expect things to go wrong? She asked a passing school-leaver if there were any known support issues with application software (I'm paraphrasing here, you understand) and the answer was, surprisingly enough, that everything was hotsy-totsy with Windows 8. 
Well, twenty years of working with software engineers (actually, 19¾ - HP took the penny-pinching precaution of shafting me 3 months before they would have had to fork out for a 20-year award) has taught me that if anything can go wrong with new software it will. This was true of Windows 95, and with everything since. Working in 'Support', which I did for many years, involved me almost daily in fixes and workarounds and you-just-can't-do-that-any-more when people tried to get existing application software to play nice with a new operating system. 
So everything, I feared, was not hotsy-totsy. To quote Ogden  Nash it was coldsy-toldsy (and Google, incidentally, has just asked me whether I mean 'cold toddy'). New operating systems are great when all the dependencies work, but with each new operating system there are more dependencies; there's more to go wrong. I hold no candle for Windows 7; give me Windows NT 4.1 any day. But for me it's preferable to Windows 8 (just as Windows 8 will be preferable to - saints preserve us - Windows 9).
My fear in the last line was ill-founded. For reasons best known to the Microsoft marketing department, 'Windows 9' is The Operating System that Never Was. I wonder why... It's not as if it were Windows 13, or Windows 666 (due in some future century, perhaps)..

But earlier in 2019, Microsoft decided to pull the plug on Windows 7 (the home, at the moment, of Knowles family computing – although there are outposts of more recent operating systems on various less benighted devices). On some date in mid-January 2020 support will be withdrawn. This could be relatively painless, if things just stop being fixed. I suppose Anti-Virus software could be a problem. But, realistically, what are the odds against  hackers bothering with a ten-year-old system? We revert to the old tried and tested system: Security-by-Obscurity – as they used to say in the world of VMS.
<OpenVMS>
Not that that was the whole story. OpenVMS was a much more robust system than some I could name, and not a prey to nearly as many viruses as we have become inured to in the M$ world. But the fact remains that being surrounded by lower-hanging fruit, malware-wise, is a fairly good guarantee against infection.
</OpenVMS>

A less benign outcome seems possible though, in the light of the behaviour of tech firms in recent years, punishing users who are content with things as they are. For the TEMERITY of not upgrading, they are deprived of even what they had; that'll teach them not to genuflect at the altar of Perpetual Upgrades. Per me si va nella città d' aggiornamenti perpetui (which is the way I imagine Dante might have said perpetual upgrades).
<digression>
Hmm. What a charming way Italian has with the word for 'upgrade': aggiornare. Think of giorno. A bit like the Creation, in Haydn's version: And there was [wait for it] light.
</digression>

Still. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Perhaps everything will be hotsy-totsy, as St Matthew might have put it.  And I have two weeks to find out.

<seasonal_novelty>
I'll sign off with something that came to me recently. It may have been the most middle-class of cracker jokes, remembered from Christmas 2018, or it may be original (not to say meaningless to most):
Q. What sort of hair conditioner does Santa Claus use?
A. Ho-ho-ho-ba. [Bou-boum and indeed tsh].
Like I said, meaningless to users of the – possibly more common,  – /ʤә'ʤәʊbә/ version (which is fine by me if that's what fleauts your beaut  – I'm not going to kick off the new year by laying down the law about talking proper (although  I haven't found a dictionary that recognizes the /ʤ/ version – just saying).
</seasonal_novelty>

Frohes thingummy.

b