By Mark Peters
Word blends are the bunnies of language: they breed like motherfathers.
During the recent American Dialect Society meeting in Portland, plenty of blends were singled out. Assholocracy is an apt description of America, especially in an election year. Botoxionist refers to a doctor specializing in the forehead region of vain people. A brony is a bro who loves My Little Pony. That word was voted Least Likely to Succeed, but you can bet similar words will keep sprouting, particularly in the world of fashion.
Jeggings. Photo by Funkdooby. Source: Wikimedia Commons.
These atrocities aren’t going to stop. I predict the following items will be on sale soon.
(FYI, if any of these are plausible ideas, please call my agent, because I’d gladly sell my soul to the denim industry).
jear muffs
They’re not warm, but fashionistas are warmed by style, not warmth. For the elderly, how about jearing aids?
jonocle
Could be a little itchy for you Mr. Peanut types, but it can’t be worse than peanut allergies. So that evens out.
jape
Maybe Christopher Nolan can work this in to the new Batman movie.
jevlar vest
It doesn’t block bullets, which could be a problem given the recent rise in fashion police brutality.
jinnamon rolls
These will be less fattening than cinnamon rolls because they are inedible.
joon
If we can put a man on the moon, we can put a team of fashion scientists on the moon to change its chemical composition.
jipple
Some say nipples can’t be improved. They’re probably right, but it’s worth a shot.
joodle
The designer dog world, which pumps out teacup malti-poos, toy pitdoodles, and more word blends than a denim-only catalog, could easily mix some denim DNA into one of their hellish kennels of canine copulation.
jystal meth
Jeans and meth are both blue, so this seems like a natural idea that could be the plot of a future Smurfs movie.
jaby
A beautiful, intelligent, precious denim baby. It will look so good with the rest of your jamily.
Mark Peters is a lexicographer, humorist, rabid tweeter, language columnist for Visual Thesaurus, and the blogger behind The Rosa Parks of Blogs and The Pancake Proverbs.
By: Lauren,
on 11/23/2010
Blog: OUPblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: Editor's Picks, *Featured, allan metcalf, american dialect society, metcalf, Lexicography, okay, little women, ok, word history, andrew jackson, etmology, Add a tag
Some books are amazing, and some are not, and some are OK. (Yes, I can make bad jokes like this all day, and I shall.) Below is a Q&A with author Allan Metcalf about his book OK: The Improbable Story of America’s Greatest Word. Metcalf is also Professor of English at MacMurray College, Executive Secretary of the American Dialect Society, and punnier than I can ever hope to be. -Lauren Appelwick, Blog Editor
Q. Why write a whole book about OK? I mean, it’s just…OK.
A. Ah, but it’s OK the Great: the most successful and influential word ever invented in America. It’s our most important export to languages around the world—best known and most used, though used sometimes in weird ways. It expresses the pragmatic American outlook on life, the American philosophy if you will, in two letters. And in the twenty-first century, inspired by the 1967 book title I’m OK, You’re OK (which is the only famous quotation involving OK), it also has taught us to be tolerant of those who are different from us. On top of all that, its origin almost defies belief (it was a joke misspelling of “all correct”) and its survival after that inauspicious origin was miraculous. And strangely, though we use it all the time, we carefully avoid it when we’re making important documents and speeches. So, wouldn’t you say OK deserves a book?
Q. Then why hasn’t someone written an “OK” book before?
A. Good question. The answer goes back to your first question—it’s just OK. It’s so ordinary, so common nowadays that we use it without thinking. And its meaning is lacking in passion, so it doesn’t seem very interesting. But that’s just what is interesting. OK is a unique way to indicate approval without having to approve. If we want to express enthusiasm when using OK, we have to add something, like an A or an exclamation mark, AOK or OK! The neutrality of OK is incredibly useful, but it doesn’t catch our attention, and so there has been no previous book. Mine is a wake-up call, I hope.
Now although there haven’t been books, there have been articles aplenty about OK. But they mostly deal with the origins of OK, and they are mostly wrong. The true beginning of OK is truly improbable.
Q. OK, so why are so many explanations wrong? And what is the true origin?
A. Very soon after the birth of OK, its origins were deliberately misidentified, and for more than a century etymologists were led astray by that red herring. It was only in the 1960s that a scholar of American English, Allen Walker Read, did the research and published the detailed evidence that shows beyond a doubt—
Q. What?
A. That OK began as a joke in the Boston Morning Post of Saturday, March 23, 1839. As Read demonstrated, the Post’s o.k., which was explained to mystified readers as an abbreviation for “all correct,” was just one of numerous joking abbreviations employed by Boston newspaper editors to enliven their stories, two others being “o.f.m.” for “our first men” and “o.w.” for “all right.”
Q. So how come nobody remembered that explanation?
A. Because other explanations sprang up before OK was a year old.
One explanation was true, as far as it goes. Martin Van Buren was running for reelection as the Democratic candidate for president of the United States. Well, it happens that his hometown was Kinderhook, New York, so in the election year 1840 his supporters began to call