wrought

The irregular verb form wrought is first attested in the 1200s, as the past tense of “work”. The regular past form we use today, “worked”, dates to the 1500s. Learning this just now got me wondering what people used as the past tense of “work” before the 1200s, but it seems like there just aren’t many English texts from before then.

As with many archaic but common words, wrought still survives as part of some stock phrases, most notably “wrought iron”. In an especially strange case, “work havoc” used to be a common phrase and “wreak havoc” is now a common phrase. So the use of “wrought havoc” in older text, as well as its similar spelling, led people to assume “wrought” is also a past tense of “wreak”.

English, like most languages, has a long history of irregular forms becoming regular as new generations learn the language but not the rare or uncommon irregular forms. This is in part why any irregular verbs still in use tend to be very common, like “ran”, “went”, or “flew”. I just learned when looking up archaic irregular forms now that “leap” also used to be irregular, “lope”, which we see preserved in words like “loping”. “Write” used to be “writ”, preserved in phrases like “writ large”.

The opposite direction, a regular verb becoming irregular over time, is much more rare. My favorite example is the American past tense of “sneak” changing from “sneaked” to “snuck” around the 1870s, by analogy with “strike”/”struck”. (Other dialects of English still generally favor “sneaked”, but American cultural ubiquity has eaten away at that.)

snowclone

The description snowclone was coined in 2004 as a neologism to describe fill-in-the-blank alterations of stock phrases like “X considered harmful” or “Wake up babe, new Y just dropped”. It was judged the best entry from a request for name suggestions in a post on linguistics blog Language Log. The word references the then-popular misconception that Inuit languages had fifty words for snow.

I find that misconception extra interesting to think about, because if there was one language that had fifty words for a concept, it would probably be English. Our long tradition of promiscuous borrowing gives us rich distinctions between words as similar as “saunter”, “amble”, “sidle”, “meander”, and “wander”.

If you combine this with the tendency for many different words to arise around euphemisms, it leads me to wonder if I could actually come up with fifty different English terms for shit. Here’s a go at it:

(Colorful language/breakfast warning!)

shit, crap, poop, poo, poopoo, poopie, doo-doo, doody, dookie, whoopsie, potty, number two, caca, cack, kak, jobbie, chod, thost, dump, merde (excuse my French), ordure, egesta, feces, feculence, fecal matter, anal leakage, defecation, evacuation, stool, bowel, refuse, organic matter, effluent, effluvia, excrement, excreta, dross, leavings, night soil, bodily waste, doings, sewage, runoff, discharge, wastewater, bilge, dreck, muck, filth, slops, sludge, slurry, blackwater, coprolite, fecalith, dung, droppings, scat, spoor, manure, mulch, compost, pellets, bull, horse puckey, horse apples, guano, cowpie, cow-flop, cowplop, cow patty, dog mess, cat litter, castings, winnet, dingleberry, log, deuce, turds, fudge, chocolate hot dog, bum rope, hershey squirts, diarrhea, santorum

I intentionally left off all the simple animal prefixes but found it interesting to consider their differences in meaning: bullshit, horseshit, dogshit, chickenshit, batshit, apeshit

yeet

The word yeet first rose to popularity as the name of a viral dance on social short video platform Vine in February 2014. It looks like the word started getting used as a general interjection of excitement in the next two months, including two viral videos involving throwing things while yelling “yeet”. The second, uploaded in April 2014 (archived on YouTube here), looks to be what solidified the association with throwing.

Unusually, the word died down along with Vine itself before experiencing a resurgence (not along with Vine itself) in 2018, now more established as a verb for “throw suddenly”. Google Trends

Jurassic

I’ve always been mildly curious about the origins of the era names we use for Deep Time like Jurassic and Cretaceous. In particular, I often mix up the more recent ones. I finally laid them out spatially in a spreadsheet to try to wrap my head around it and wanted to share what I learned. At a high level, it’s pretty amazing how difficult of a problem naming eras is. Like with elements, when you discover one, you know very little about it and the name is very difficult to change even hundreds of years later.

Eons: Hadean, Archean, Proterozoic, Phanerozoic. These are all Greek and mean roughly “hellish”, “ancient”, “earlier life”, and “visible life”. Hundreds of years later we have evidence of life in the Archean, but we certainly didn’t at the time.

Most recent eras: Paleozoic, Mesozoic, Cenozoic. These are all Greek and mean roughly “old life”, “middle life”, and “new life”. They’re all subdivisions of the Phanerozoic eon, which we of course now also have evidence for life existing before.

Most recent periods: Cambrian, Ordovician, Silurian, Devonian, Carboniferous, Permian, Triassic, Jurassic, Cretaceous, Paleogene, Neogene, Quaternary. Everything before Paleogene is mostly named for the place where it was first discovered. Paleogene and Neogene are of course Greek, meaning roughly “old birth” and “new birth” (“gene” as in “genesis”). Quaternary is actually the usually quite rare English word for “fourth”, the term after primary, secondary, tertiary.

Most recent epochs: Paleocene, Eocene, Oligocene, Miocene, Pliocene, Pleistocene, Holocene (and Anthropocene, which is currently in proposal phase). These were discovered out of order and out of context and are retrospectively an incredible feat of naming. They’re all Greek, meaning roughly “old new”, “dawn new”, “few new”, “less new”, “more new”, “most new”, “all new”, and “human new”.

EonEraPeriodEpochStart (Mya)End (Mya)Greek GlossPlace Name
Hadean   45674031hellish 
Archean   40312500ancient 
 Eoarchean  40313600dawn ancient 
 Paleoarchean  36003200old ancient 
 Mesoarchean  32002800middle ancient 
 Neoarchean  28002500new ancient 
Proterozoic   2500539earlier life 
 Paleoproterozoic  25001600old earlier life 
  Siderian 25002300iron 
  Rhyacian 23002050stream of lava 
  Orosirian 20501800mountain range 
  Statherian 18001600stable 
 Mesoproterozoic  16001000middle earlier life 
  Calymmian 16001400cover 
  Ectasian 14001200extension 
  Stenian 12001000narrow 
 Neoproterozoic  1000539new earlier life 
  Tonian 1000720stretch 
  Cryogenian 720635cold birth 
  Ediacaran 635539 Ediacara Hills, Australia
Phanerozoic   5390visible life 
 Paleozoic  539252old life 
  Cambrian 539485 Cymru (Wales)
   Terreneuvian539521 Terre-Neuve (Newfoundland)
   (unnamed)521509  
   Miaolingian509497 Miao Ling, China
   Furongian497485lotus (Mandarin) 
  Ordovician 485444 Ordovices (Celtic tribe)
  Silurian 444419 Silures (Celtic tribe)
   Llandovery444433 Llandovery, Wales
   Wenlock433427 Wenlock Edge, England
   Ludlow427423 Ludlow, England
   Pridoli423419 Přídolí, Czechia
  Devonian 419359 Devon, England
  Carboniferous 359300coal-bearing (Latin) 
   Mississippian359323 Mississippi, USA
   Pennsylvanian323300 Pennsylvania, USA
  Permian 300252 Perm, Russia
   Cisuralian300273 Ural Mountains (Russia/Kazakhstan)
   Guadalupian273260 Guadalupe Mountains, USA
   Lopingian260252 Loping, China
 Mesozoic  25266middle life 
  Triassic 252201triad (Latin) 
  Jurassic 201145 Jura Mountains (France/Switzerland)
  Cretaceous 14566chalk (Latin) 
 Cenozoic  660new life 
  Paleogene 6623old birth 
   Paleocene6656old new 
   Eocene5633.9dawn new 
   Oligocene33.923few new 
  Neogene 232.58new birth 
   Miocene235.33less new 
   Pliocene5.332.58more new 
  Quaternary 2.580fourth (English) 
   Pleistocene2.580.012most new 
   Holocene0.0120all new 
   Anthropocene*00human new 

yoink

The interjection yoink is probably not in even the top three words coined by The Simpsons, even though it’s likely the most commonly used now. It’s first heard in the 1993 episode Duffless, but quickly becomes a signature sound effect for the series. It was created by series writer George Meyer, possibly as an onomatopoeia for a rising violin sound effect that accompanied snatching something in old comedies. Series writer Bill Oakley instead claims it was taken from Jughead comics, but I wasn’t able to find a searchable archive.

Truly the Shakespeare of our time.