Tim Worstall

New Euphemisms.

Kevin Maxwell:

He will resume his career as "an independent property consultant".

"Independent property consultant".

"Unemployed".

Harold Pinter and the Nobel for Literature.

Hunh? Harold Bloody Pinter for the Nobel for Literature? Seriously?  He’ll be even more insufferable now.

ABC News’ take on it, The International Herald Tribune. No doubt many more at Google News. But the best, absolutely the very finest is at Harry’s Place where David T does us proud.

No wonder that bloke resigned from the prize committee yesterday.

Technorati tags: Harold Pinter, Nobel.

Michael Gove.

Michael Gove asks in his column:

Just what does it mean when we say that butter wouldn’t melt in someone’s mouth? And where does the phrase come from? Answers, please, to michael@michaelgove.com . . .

Go to www.google.com. Enter the phrase. Hit "I Feel Lucky".

Worldwidewords. Michael Quinion, a researcher for the OED.

It’s one of those sayings that are so old their origins are lost in the proverbial mists of time. It refers dismissively to somebody who appears gentle or innocent while typically being the opposite. A typical use was in William Makepeace Thackeray’s Pendennis: “When a visitor comes in, she smiles and languishes, you’d think that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth: and the minute he is gone, very likely, she flares up like a little demon, and says things fit to send you wild”.

It appeared in print first in John Palsgrove’s book about the French language, Lesclarcissement de la Langue Françoyse of 1530, but it’s more than likely he was borrowing a saying that was already proverbial. (There’s more if you want it.)

Mr Gove MP? Meet Mr. Google. Mr. Google? Meet Mr Gove MP. Mr Gove MP? Mr. Google is your friend.

(This post has been supported by the Google Inc press relations department.)

Harold Pinter

Harold Pinter seems to have been entering a poetry contest  pseudonyminously. Won first four prizes as far as I can see.

Falconer.

Interesting how quickly the language changes. I invented the verb, to falconer, some months back to decribe the process by which the Prime Minister’s erstwhile flatmate become first a Lord, then a Minister, then Lord Chancellor. I had assumed that it would be used in the passive sense, in that it was something that happened to such flatmates. I also noted that this meant that Adrian Flook MP should be the next Prime Minister but one so that I might  step up to the plate and do my duty under England’s unwritten, constrained only by age old practices, constitution. That I am not a lawyer means little, a wig and the Woolsack appears to be all that is needed.
I see in the Guardian today that the verb now has a more active meaning, in that it can be the flatmate dispensing such patronage:

The lord chancellor, Lord Falconer, is to appoint a close friend and his former pupilmaster - responsible for trainee barristers - to one of the top four jobs in the judicial hierarchy, against the wishes of the four top judges.
The appointment of Sir Mark Potter to replace Dame Elizabeth Butler-Sloss as president of the high court's family division, will be announced by the government today.

Further proof, as if any were needed, that the Hon. Member for Taunton is exactly the man we need to lead the country. Vote Flook and get Worstall’s cronies running the judiciary!

Origin of "Jump the Shark"

Finally, I find out where the phrase "Jump the Shark" comes from:

An idiom often used in the film and television world is "jumping the shark". A reference to the episode of Happy Days, in which Fonzie, on water-skis, jumps over a shark, it is used to denote that tipping point at which a long-running franchise has become just too silly, and will be rubbish ever after.

Cato and Carthage.

For those interested in the origins of the phrase Ceterum censeo Unionem Europaeam esse delendam that  vital phrase which forms part of our everyday conversation in this EU Wonderland, a more scholarly approach and explanation is available from Michael Gilleland. Apparently:

These sentences are good ways to remember the passive periphrastic, otherwise known as the second periphrastic

which is way above my pay grade but I’m glad to see that Michael thinks that we got the grammar correct.

Where does "Drink the Kool Aid" Come From?

To "drink the Kool Aid" is a description of someone who's gone quite mad in a partisan (not always political but often) fashion. I think (and please note that it's think) that the phrase itself comes from the Jonestown mass suicide. Today might be a good day to try and find out as it all happened on Nov 18:

People's Temple leader Jim Jones leads hundreds of his followers in a mass murder-suicide at their “Jonestown” agricultural commune in remote northwestern Guyana. The few cult members who refused to take the cyanide-laced fruit-flavored concoction were either forced to do so at gunpoint or shot as they fled. The final death toll was 913, including 276 children. [list of the dead]
James Warren “Jim” Jones (born 13 May 1931) was a charismatic churchman who founded the initially Christian sect The Wings of Deliverance (precursor of The Peoples Temple) on 04 April 1955, in Indianapolis. He preached against racism, and his integrated congregation attracted mostly African Americans. In 1965, he moved the group to northern California, settling in Ukiah and after 1971 in San Francisco. In the 1970s, his church was accused by the press of financial fraud, physical abuse of its members, and mistreatment of children. In response to the mounting criticism, Jones led several hundred of his followers to South America in 1977 and set up a utopian agricultural settlement called Jonestown in the jungle of Guyana.
A year later, a group of ex-members convinced US Congressman Leo Ryan, a Democrat of California, to travel to Jonestown and investigate the commune. On 17 November 1978, Ryan arrived in Jonestown with a group of journalists and other observers. At first the visit went well, but the next day, as Ryan's group was about to leave, several People's Church members approached members of the group and asked them for passage out of Guyana. Jones became distressed at the defection of his members, and one of Jones' lieutenants attacked Ryan with a knife. Ryan escaped from the incident unharmed, but Jones then ordered Ryan and his companions ambushed and killed at the airstrip as they attempted to leave. The congressman and four others were murdered as they attempted to board their charter planes.
Back in Jonestown, Jones directed his followers in a mass suicide in a clearing in the town. With Jones exhorting the "beauty of dying" over a loudspeaker, hundreds drank a lethal cyanide and Kool-Aid drink. Those who tried to escape were chased down and shot by Jones' lieutenants. Jones died of a gunshot wound in the head, probably self-inflicted. Guyanese troops, alerted by a cult member who escaped, reached Jonestown the next day. Only a dozen or so followers survived, hidden in the jungle. Most of the 913 dead were lying side by side in the clearing where Jones had preached to them for the last time.

I vaguely remember watching this on the news while at school and certainly have remembered that it was Kool-Aid that was drunk.
So, any American readers, is this actually where the phrase comes from? Or is there another, more recent source? Or does it come from further back even? Tom Wolfe had a book "The Electric Acid Kool Aid Test" or something didn't he? I know, I know, it's not one of the most pressing questions, I'd just like to know where the phrase came from, that's all.

Ve Haff Vays Off Making You Talk: German.

Oh happy land that has such bureaucrats in it. A man in Germany is not allowed to see his two children because he speaks to them in his native language.

An official said: "From an educational standpoint, we do not accept that it would be in the children's interests that these supervised meetings should take place in the Polish language. Speaking German can only be of advantage to the children as they are growing up in this country and go to school here."

Pyjamas Again.

In this interconnected world of ours it doesn't take long for a word to move form a weird quotation to a knowing reference. The Telegraph City Comment today uses pyjamas mere weeks after we were all described as "some guy in his living room in his pajamas":

You can fritter away your money in no time, and buy a ticket for the lottery on the way home. Once there, you can sit up all night playing online poker or blackjack. Type "gambling sites" into Google and it returns 3.3m hits, so you can lose your shirt while wearing your pyjamas.

Help Required.

If there are any Latin scholars out there, perhaps someone could provide a little help?
I'm aware of the phrase "Delenda Est Carthago" from Cato. OK, now I want to find out what is the correct way of subsituting "European Union" for " Carthage".

Delenda Est Carthago, or more exactly: "Ceterum censeo Carthaginem esse delendam" - "And therefore, I conclude that Carthage must be destroyed", was the motto of Roman conservative senator Marcus Porcius Cato.

What I'd really like is if someone out there can give me both phrases in Latin. "The European Union must be destroyed" and " and therefore, I conclude that the European Union must be destroyed".

Georgia On My Mind.

Just in case you find yourself in Georgia one day have a look over here. Madfish Wille provides you with the vocabulary you will need.

Cliches and Stereotypes.

Cliches and sterotypes are not actually supposed to exist. They're more an amalgamation of traits and suppositions that reveal the deeper, inner, truth about a subject and provide us with a mental image. You don't ever actually expect to come across someone or something that accords, in every detail, with such an image. I was rather surprised then, last weekend, while attending the Baptism of the grand-kiddy, to come across an Anglican Vicar with all three of the cliche signifiers. Yes, pony tail, goatee beard and open toed sandals. I realise that as a (nominal) Catholic I'm a little out of touch with the Church of England but that is ridiculous. It's almost as if he had gone to a theatrical costumiers and asked for the "trendy Vicar" kit.
Ran a good service though.

Dick Cheney, the F word and Christopher Hitchens.

Stephen Pollard links to this Christopher Hitchens piece on the varied uses of the word "fuck". With all this furore over Dick Cheney's recent usage on the Senate floor I'm surpised that no one has dug up this old quote from the Stephen Byers/Railtrack days:

"We're all fucked. I'm fucked. You're fucked. The whole department's fucked. It's been the biggest cock-up ever and we're all completely fucked."
The alleged opinion of Richard Mottram, permanent secretary at the DTLR, on the Jo Moore debacle.

You may or may not remember that Jo Moore was the advisor who said that 9/11 was a good day to put out bad news as no one would notice it.
That phrase I find really rather useful, it applies to so many things in life. Labour Governments, the European Union, John Kerry, use it as and when you wish.

Dogs and Language

In a further attempt to boost this blog's reputation for dealing with the powerful, the connected, the elites of this world, following on from our correspondence with the Irish Honorary Consul to Cuzco, we have on the same day an update to this from a fellow Techcentralstation contributor, Harvard Professor and Tom Clancy advisor (see, told you were were connected) :

Dear Tim
:Regarding the last item on the page; such an organization could never decide
on what kind of dog without the services of a
DONAUDAMPFSCHIFFAHRTSELEKTRIZITAETENHAUPT-
BETRIEBSWERKBAUUNTERBEAMTENGESELLSCHAF-
THUNDNATURWISSENSCHAFTENPRIVATDOZENT

Which, I think, neatly illustrates the importance of being in with the rich and powerful.
Now, when will that other TCS contributor get here?

More Words We Need in English

Following on from Bjorn's post and my comments on it a further revelation comes via this week's Economist:

May should be a happy month for Norwegians. Warmer weather allows for the first utepils, or beers drunk outside.

The word itself seems obvious enough, ute being similar to out, pils meaning good beer in many languages. The concept also seems logical, similar to the end of cabin fever say, that first opportunity to celebrate spring's arrival after a cold and dreary winter.
I checked with the local fount of all knowledge, the bartender (as you all know it is part of the oath of office that they should in fact know everything), last night, an impressive young lady who happens to speak Norwegian as her native tongue. Utepils does not mean the process or habit of drinking beer outside, it means those very first beers drunk outside in the spring. What a wonderful language, to have a single word, one so simple as to be understood even by journalists, to describe a once a year light drinking session.
We really do need to either find a synonym in English or simply adopt this word ourselves.

Language Differences

Came across a nice site today, Trying to Grok, apparently written by an American woman in Germany. Go have a look .
One trivial little thing started to roll round my mind. " Grok ". It seems to be used in the sense of " understand ", and it's been used that way in the Day by Day cartoon on the page. I'm not sure but I think that this usage comes from Douglas Adams, " D'you grok that dude Zaphod " or something.
It's exactly the opposite meaning from what I remember. South West England has a number of words for tourists ( a group we make a lot of money off but openly despise ) and in my youth in Bath it was " grockle ". Because they would wander round in packs going " Grok, grok " as they misunderstood everything going on around them.
Odd how words can change.

Words we Need in English

Bjorn Staerk writes about a mullah who couldn't take a joke. Go read it, very amusing.
One thing that leapt out at me was a word that Norwegians use and for which we have no direct translation in English, not as a word. There's a number of such things that we simply steal from other languages : schadenfreude ( joy at the disasters of others ) , savoir faire ( not changing one's underpants is stylish ), La Dolce Vita ( pasta, scooters and Anita Ekberg as the sweet life ) and amok ( to go crazy with a machete ).
Bjorn uses one which I think we should immediately adopt as we simply don't have it in English, yet should :

what Norwegians refer to as "jentelus", the mystical and dangerous substance small boys fear will infect them if they're touched by a girl.

Language Differences

Across the Atlantic begins a promised series of posts about words that have very different meanings in different languages. Go see the photo.
American readers will be familiar with a chain of stores called " Fanny Wrappers " which always slightly worries UK visitors.
And we all know that the common English phrase " Can I bum a fag ?" will cause a little head turning in the US.
AS Oscar put it, two countries divided by a common language.