Futility Closet

In a Word

Posted in Language by Greg Ross on September 26th, 2009

barbatulous
adj. having a small beard

debarb
v. to deprive of a beard

imberb
adj. without a beard


Interlude

Posted in Language by Greg Ross on September 22nd, 2009

There was a Man who presented to Henry the Great of France, an Anagram upon his name, (Borbonius) which was Bonus Orbi, Orbus Boni; the King asked him what it meant, he told him, That when his Majesty was a Hugonot he was Bonus Orbi [good to the world], but when he turned Catholick he was Orbus Boni [destitute of good]; a very fine Anagram, saith the King; I pray what Profession are you of? Please your Majesty I am a maker of Anagrams, but I am a very poor Man: I believe it, said the King, for they that use that Trade cannot grow very Rich.

– William De Britaine, Humane Prudence, 1693


In a Word

Posted in Language by Greg Ross on September 21st, 2009

dromaeognathous
adj. having a palate like an emu


“O-U-G-H”

Posted in Language, Poems by Greg Ross on September 19th, 2009

I’m taught p-l-o-u-g-h
Shall be pronouncé “plow.”
“Zat’s easy w’en you know,” I say,
“Mon Anglais, I’ll get through!”

My teacher say zat in zat case,
O-u-g-h is “oo.”
And zen I laugh and say to him,
“Zees Anglais make me cough.”

He say, “Not ‘coo,’ but in zat word,
O-u-g-h is ‘off.’”
Oh, Sacre bleu! Such varied sounds
Of words makes me hiccough!

He say, “Again mon frien’ ees wrong;
O-u-g-h is ‘up’
In hiccough.” Zen I cry, “No more,
You make my t’roat feel rough.”

“Non, non!” he cry, “you are not right;
O-u-g-h is ‘uff.’”
I say, “I try to spik your words,
I cannot spik zem though.”

“In time you’ll learn, but now you’re wrong!
O-u-g-h is ‘owe.’”
“I’ll try no more, I s’all go mad,
I’ll drown me in ze lough!”

“But ere you drown yourself,” said he,
“O-u-g-h is ‘ock.’”
He taught no more, I held him fast,
And killed him wiz a rough!

– Charles Battell Loomis


Can You Do Without Soap?

Posted in Language by Greg Ross on September 17th, 2009

Heinrich Ollendorff meant well. The grammarian intended his phrasebooks to teach German, French, Danish, and Russian to a new generation of language students. But who would ever need to speak these sentences?

  • Stop, the postilion has been struck by lightning!
  • A man is drowning. Is there a life buoy, a rope, a grapnel at hand?
  • Unhand me, sir, for my husband, who is an Australian, awaits without.
  • After having lost all my money, I was beaten by bad-looking men; and, to my still greater ill luck, I hear that my good uncle, whom I love so much, has been struck with apoplexy.

Ironically, he’s remembered today in the adjective ollendorffian, which means “in the stilted language of foreign phrasebooks.”

See English As She Is Spoke.


In a Word

Posted in Language by Greg Ross on September 16th, 2009

chichevache

n. an emaciated monster said to feed on patient wives

(The bicorn, which feeds on kind husbands, is always fat.)


In a Word

Posted in Language by Greg Ross on September 10th, 2009

spanghew
v. to launch a frog or toad into the air


One-Note Sentences

Posted in Language by Greg Ross on September 8th, 2009

Monotonous conversation from around the world:

Finnish:

Etsivät etsivät etsivät etsivät etsivät.
“The searching detectives are searching the searching detectives.”

Spanish:

¿Cómo como? ¿Cómo cómo como? Como como como.
“How do I eat? What do you mean, how do I eat? I eat how I eat.”

Icelandic:

Ái á Á á á í á.
“A farmer named Ái, who lives on a farm by the name of Á, owns a female sheep that is in a river.”

Malay:

Sayang, sayang sayang sayang, sayang sayang sayang?
“Darling, I love you, dear, do you love me?”

Romanian:

Stanca sta-n castan ca Stan.
“Stanca stood in a chestnut tree like Stan.”

Hungarian:

A követ követ követ.
“The envoy follows a stone.”

Tagalog:

Bababa ba? Bababa!
“Going down? It is!”


In a Word

Posted in Language by Greg Ross on September 3rd, 2009

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Oscar_Bluhm_Erm%C3%BCdende_Konversation.jpg

oscitant
adj. drowsy or inattentive


Sum Caws

Posted in Language, Science & Math by Greg Ross on September 1st, 2009

The Russian for crow (a bird) in the genitive case plural is sorok. The same word also means forty. Hence, the ambiguous construction ‘100 crows + 100 crows = 200 crows’ can also mean ‘140 + 140 = 280.’

– V.M. Bradis, Lapses in Mathematical Reasoning, 1938