Odd Words: Apodosis

Return to Sender - Apodosis

Page 13 of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition kind of sucked. I thought it might be a page where I knew all the words. But it turned out to be just a clump at the beginning of the page.

Just the same, there are already days that I think this series was a very bad idea. I’m pretty skeptical today because I didn’t have a great deal to work with. And today, we have a word that is about grammar. I suppose that isn’t such a bad thing. It’s helpful to me to know these obscure words to describe how sentences work. I’m just not sure how interested you all are. Then again, since when have I cared what you all think? (Actually: all the time — especially when I’m writing something I know you aren’t interested in. Sorry, but it’s for your own good!)

Beyond Apodosis

So what do we have besides “apodosis” to make your life interesting? There is “apopemptic,” which is an adjective that describes the act of leaving — apparently in an official sense. And there is “apothegm,” which is a pithy saying, which I guess makes it different enough from “aphorism” to make it worth while (it’s more general). Finally, there is “apperceive,” which is to be conscious of perception. That’s a good one because so much of my life is habit. Did I take my thyroid medication today? I try to be very conscious of it so I don’t wonder all day. Of course, I could buy one of those daily pill boxes, but why? I can just work on apperceiving it.

But here is apodosis:

A·pod·o·sis  noun  \ə-‘päd-ə-səs\

1. the consequence clause in a conditional sentence, beginning with “then.”

Date: early 17th century.

Origin: Greek, απόδοση, which means to return.

Example: Of course, not all conditions begin with the word “if” and end with a clause starting with “then.” Nor is the protasis always placed before the apodosis.If… Then… Conditional Statements

You will note that the definition above is not correct. the apodosis usually starts with “then,” but not always. I just thought you would want to know, given how much you are likely to use the word.

Odd Words: Anthropophagi

Saturn Devouring His Son - AnthropophagiPage 12 of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition was even worse than page 11. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Page 11 had the ante- words; page 12 thus had the anti- words. But I picked a word that came in between: anthropophagi.

Not Really Anthropophagi

Before we get to the word, I suppose I should point out that the word should not be “anthropophagi.” It should be “anthropophaguses.” This business has got to stop! We take English language words that are based on Greek words and create plurals based on Latin grammar?! What’s with that?! The Greek word isn’t “anthropophagus” anyway; it is “ανθρωποφάγος”! And where Latin fits in, I can’t say.

An unrelated issue: “antihero” is on the same page. The book claims that such a character lacks all heroic attributes and noble qualities. That was doubtless how the word was originally used. But by the time this dictionary came out, it was not used in that way at all.

Anyway, on to anthropophagi:

An·thro·poph·a·gi  noun  \an-thrə-‘päf-ə-jē\

1. cannibals.

Date: mid 16th century.

Origin: Greek, άνθρωπος (man) and φάγος (eat).

Example:

It was my hint to speak, such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The anthropophagi and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders.

William Shakespeare (Othello)

Note that anthropophagus is normally used for folklore cannibals, as in the image above.

Odd Words: Anomie

The Scream - AnomiePage 11 of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition is another with a lot of known prefixes and thus not a lot of unknown words. Still, I found an interesting one: anomie.

Beyond Anomie: The Ante- Words

There were a couple of words that I knew on seeing them, but didn’t know existed. One was “antepartum” — the other side of postpartum. Although it doesn’t just mean before childbirth, but right before childbirth. I suppose that is because we have a general word for before childbirth: pregnant.

Another such word was “antepenult.” Since penultimate is the second to the last, antepenult is the one before that: the third to the last. I might have grabbed that word, but it is specially used to refer to syllables in a word. And I don’t want to make this series about odd words just odd words about words.

Thus, I picked anomie:

An·o·mie  noun  \‘an-ə-mē\

1. the condition of an uprooted race of individuals, or of their society, characterized by a breakdown of accepted values.

Date: 1930s.

Origin: Greek: ανομία, which means “lawlessness.”

Example: These all jostle for space under the banner of After Belonging, a theme evoking property loss, late-capitalist anomie, and the unshakable placelessness resulting from living most of our lives online or in “a time defined by mobility and transit.”Samuel Medina

Most definitions do not mention an “uprooted” people. And thus, it seems like like a great word for modern America — and to a lesser degree the western world. I blame it on Ayn Rand and the Masters of the Universe who came after — the whole “greed is good” crowd. People who think they own nothing to their society will eventually tear it apart.

Odd Words: Analects

2008 Summer Olympics - AnalectsOnward to page ten of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition! There were a number of good words on this page. But I picked the very first one: analects.

But first, let’s take a quick look at some of the other words. There was “anamnesis.” This is memories of a past life. Like I remember when I was Mary Wollstonecraft, and just as I finished A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, I thought, “They’re only going to remember Tommy Paine!” There was also “anchorite,” which is a religious recluse. On seeing it, I knew what “androcracy” meant. But I don’t remember ever seeing it. Why would we need it? It’s like a fish needing a word for water. There’s also “anechoic,” which is something that is very important in building stadiums and such. There were also some medical words, which I would describe, but I just can’t stop yawning.

Analects

This is another literary word, which does not make me yawn. Other than being a word that I have a hard time imagining ever needing, it’s interesting in that it is almost always used as a plural. “Analect” is also a word. But it is almost never used. I assume that this is because one would just use the word “quotation.” Oh my! Did I just spoil the surprise? Well, read on anyway.

Here’s the definition of “analects”:

An·a·lects  noun  \a’-nə-lek(t)s\

1. selected passages or extracts from the writings of one or more authors.

Date: it really depends (circa 15th century).

Origin: this one is bizarre. It is Middle English. But it comes from a Latin word that comes from a Greek word: ανάλεκτα, which means “a group of things brought together.”

Example: “Self-improvement to bring peace to others,” from the Analects of Confucius of the Ancient China, is the quote I live by.Yoo Jeong-bok

And just because of the assonance, I thought of this song:

State of Fear: Excellent New Short Story Collection

State of Fear - Paul BibeauPaul Bibeau has a new collection of short stories, State of Fear. It’s 99¢ on the Kindle, and worth quite a lot more than every penny.

It’s easy to be disappointed by Paul Bibeau. After all, most people discovered him from things like I Was Shitting You People — A Message From Ayn Rand and “Help Me Hide These Bodies” By Willy Wonka. They are laugh-out-loud funny stories, so you figure that he’s a comedy writer. And then you pick up The Black Book Of Children’s Bible Stories or Trump Tales Of Terror, and you discover a very different writer.

I remember when I first got The Black Book. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting. But I was soon won over by its clear, exacting style and implied horror. Bibeau is not a writer to jump out at you and yell, “Boo!” His approach is to inject you with a slow-acting neurotoxin until you’re afraid to move. He combines the Victorian ghost story’s precision with a postmodern sensibility. The writer and reader are partners. Bibeau rarely comes right out and tells you anything. He renders. What Anaïs Nin was for erotica, Paul Bibeau is for horror.

State of Fear

State of Fear is not horror. It’s much worse than that. The stories are about isolation. More specifically, they are about how isolation and fear feed each other. I’ve written before about watching schizophrenics and how terrified they are so much of the time because they just don’t know where the inside and the outside meet. Bibeau captures that sense fully. Mostly, he is fine with leaving it to the reader to decide what the reality is. This is most true of the highlight of this collection, “Charlie And The Chocolate Factory.”

In that story, Charles “Charlie” Franck is a government interrogator — torturer, actually. And he snaps. Or does he? The truth is that not knowing is what makes the story so chilling. It’s also what makes it profound, because it doesn’t matter. Is there a vast conspiracy to keep us all at war with each other? Or does our civilization drive us all mad?

How are you going to get me to murder more than 300 people at the Lakeview Mall? That’s what I thought.

But the prisoner hadn’t said “Lakeview Mall.” He’d talked about an unnamed shopping center, and mentioned a nearby parking garage. And I’d immediately sketched out a picture in my mind of the shopping center that I would pick. If I did it.

Bibeau’s Thematic Clarity

It’s pretty clear where Paul Bibeau comes down on the question of the actual reality, however. He deals with the question more directly in, “The American Terror.” It is half essay and half narrative. The essay focuses on The Trial as well as Václav Havel’s experiences in communist Czechoslovakia. The narrative tells the story of a man trying to find his way to court on his bicycle for a minor matter, which literally becomes more grave as he cycles. It reminded me of Robert Cormier’s novel, I Am the Cheese, but in this endless bike ride, the world presses down harder and harder on the cyclist, and we know that his end will be the same as that of Josef K.

I could go on and on. Every story is a winner. “The Exceptions Virus” chronicles of spread of fear and isolation, but in the Bibeau world where the external and internal intersect in a most discomfiting way. Even when Bibeau is being blunt, as in “The Dream Wayne LaPierre Has Every Night,” the results are chilling. And the book ends with a poem, “Thanks for the Last and Greatest Betrayal…” It’s a history lesson — a reminder of who we are. But it’s also a prophecy: describing our dead future where all that is left are our Hollywood fantasies, beaming through space: “only ghosts and aliens will watch it go.”

State of Fear is very much worth checking out. It’s short — just 54 Kindle pages. But it’s easily worth ten times its 99¢ asking price. It gave me chills at least a dozen times.

Odd Words: Amphibology

My Wife and My Mother-in-Law - AmphibologyPage nine of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition starts with the am— words. And that means I know a lot of them, because I like words that have to do with getting along. But today’s word is a really specialized grammar word that is super useful: amphibology.

There weren’t any really interesting words today, other than “amour-propre” — a very pretentious way of saying “self-esteem.” So let’s get right to today’s word. You can jump down and look at the definition. Right now, I want to talk about why it is so useful.

Amphibology and Scott Turow

The biggest hurdle that writers face is seeing what they write from the standpoint of the reader. The classic example is, “The dog caught the ball as it flew through the air.” This is one grammar pedants love, “Oh, the poor dog! I wonder who threw it?” The truth is this response is incorrect, because one couldn’t say grammatically whether the dog or the ball flew through the air. So picking the dog is not correct. The original sentence is an example of amphibology.

I wrote about an instance of amphibology, How Good is Scott Turow? The sentence was from his novel, Innocent. The main character’s son is asked about his relative computer skills and he responds, “Compared to my father? Yes. I know a lot more than him.” Well, it isn’t exactly amphibology, because what the son says literally means, “I know a lot more about computers than I know about him.” Which happens to be true, and I wondered if Turow was such a great writer that he knew what he was doing.

Anyway, here’s the definition:

Am·phi·bol·o·gy  noun  \am-fə-‘bäl-ə-jē\

1. the use of ambiguous or quibbling phrases or statements.

Date: mid-14th century.

Origin: Latin: amphibolia, which means “ambiguity” or “double-meaning.”

Example: If the other side avoids its amphibology in the [nuclear] talks, it’ll be an experience showing it’s possible to negotiate with them on other issues —Ayatollah Ali Khamenei (quoted in In Defense of Marism)

You Don’t Know What an Editor Does

What an Editor DoesI’ve noticed that most people don’t know what an editor does. They almost always think that an editor is a copy editor. That means that they think what editors do is work their way through a writer’s text and replace “than” with “then” when the need occurs. And this is an important job that is done less and less. Who has time for copy editing when you have to get an article out on the results of National Federation of Independent Business v Sebelius within five minutes of its release? It’s a now, now, now world — and I’m just trailing behind it.

I’ve known a couple of great copy editors in my life. They are amazing. Copy editing is like playing music: you can study and get good at it. But some people just have the mind for it. I was not born with this gift. But I’m an okay copy editor because I’ve developed a few tricks. But I never do any copy editing here. It’s hard enough to get myself to do a quick read through of an article after I’ve taken the time to write it. If I happen to read an article I wrote a long time ago, I always find errors. And roughly half the time I can’t even be bothered to fix them then.

Editor Ecosystem

It’s not surprising that people think editors are all copy editors: it’s so concrete. What’s more, “editor” is not actually a job title. The editing process is so vast that calling yourself one is like calling yourself a scientist. Sure, if you were a theoretical atmospheric physicist, you might tell the prols you were a scientists just to avoid getting a bunch of questions. But you would think of yourself as an atmospheric physicist because your job doesn’t involve a white lab coat or the use of a pipette.

At big publishers — book, magazine, website — you will have layers of editors. You have editors who screen material and send it on to other editors. You have development editors who work with known writers to come up with in-house projects. And you have content editors, who actively work with the writer throughout the project. But these are only used when publishers think they have something big — generally when they have a famous non-writer creating something. I don’t live in that world and I never have.

Now, of course, the title “editor” has lost much of its meaning. Brian Beutler is Senior Editor at New Republic. I would be shocked to learn that he sits in on editorial meetings and works with writers. Beutler is one of the most senior writers at New Republic. He is also pretty much their best. But I guess at a lot of places, an editor is a step up from a writer. So if a writer becomes too dear, they become an editor, even if they are doing the same thing they were doing before.

The Ginsu Knife Editor

The name for what I do is “line editor.” It sounds like an intense copy editor. But it is actually a jack-of-all-trades editor. It is the editor that small companies have because they don’t have enough work to split the job up. So here are the main things that I do, more or less in the order of importance:

  • Mother: I make sure the writers are happy. I try to get them to do more work. And I advocate for them. I also tell them (in the nicest way possible) about various hard truths of life. This is easy for me, because I’m older than everyone else and I genuinely like my writers.
  • Develop: I get a constant stream of requests for articles that will fill some need. It’s often quite a lot of work to figure out what that article should be and how to communicate it to the writers. This last part is key. I don’t want writers wasting their time (And mine!) writing about the wrong thing.
  • Edit: this is mostly copy editing. But it involves a fair amount of content editing. It also involves fact-checking.
  • Publish: there are a lot of different parts of this. It ranges from typesetting to finding graphics to pushing things live. Interestingly, it’s both tedious and terrifying work. It’s also great, because it is the end of a project — in some cases, one that took over a year to complete.
  • Write: when I don’t have a writer for a particular task, I have to write it myself.

Editor as Generic Middle Manager

There’s no doubt that I do much more than that. At the end of any day, I’m not usually sure what I got done. I feel like I’ve spent the whole day playing Fruit Ninja (which I only know about because of work).

There are many kinds of editor. But being a line editor (“lone editor” would be a better term) is very much like being a middle manager at any other company. There are people, they do work, you try to keep it all flowing while maintaining an acceptable level of quality. Oh: and you try to remain calm.

Odd Words: Allochthonous

Allochthonous - Stone Formation in WaterPage eight of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition is an odd one. In the first column, I knew perhaps half the words. I knew all the words in the second column — except for one that I’ll come back to in a moment. In the mean time, get chomping on “allochthonous.”

American Plan?!

There is this thing in the hotel business called “American Plan.” It is a system where you pay a single rate for your hotel and meals. I’ve traveled quite a bit and stayed at a lot of hotels. I’ve never even heard of such a thing. I guess cruise ships work that way. But I always figured that if you didn’t keep people on a ship constantly busy eating, drinking, and watching banal entertainment, they would realize just how awful they felt about spending thousands of dollars to be stuck with all of these people for a week!

Allochthonous and Others

I’ve noticed this before: words I don’t know come in clumps. I assume it is because there are a bunch of specialized words that are based on the same foreign root that I just don’t know. But I can’t say for certain. Doing so would require that I do a bunch of work. And I’m really tired and just want to get this post done!

Here it is; the word you’ve been waiting for: allochthonous:

Al·loch·tho·nous  adjective  \ə-läk’-thə-nəs\

1. not native to the region where found.

Date: early 20th century.

Origin: it comes from two Greek words: allos (other) and khthōn (earth).

Example: The nitrate assimilation rate has been examined to determine new production because nitrate is considered the major allochthonous source of nitrogen, supplied to the euphotic zone from deep water.Shiozaki, et al

It seems to be a geological word. But it would be a great word to have for invasive plants. I suspect there is a different word for that.

Odd Words: Aliquant and Aliquot

Facepalm: Aliquant and AliquotWe are on to page seven of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition. I had planned to do a legal word, but then I found these two mathematical words that I just had to do: aliquant and aliquot.

You Say Aliquant and I Say Aliquot

I love math. You all know that! God is a mathematician. But that should tell you something right there. Jim Holt once speculated that “the universe was created by a being that is 100 percent malevolent but only 80 percent effective.” There’s no question but that mathematicians are an odd bunch. And the choice of these two words does strike me 100 percent malevolent.

So first up, we have: aliquant:

Al·i·quant  adjective  \al’-ə-kwənt\

1. (of a number) not dividing evenly into a larger number, as 6 is an aliquant part of 16. See also aliquot.

Date: late 17th century.

Origin: it comes from the Latin words alius (one of many) and quantus (amount or number).

Example: You don’t mean “aliquant” you mean “aliquot.” —Countless Mathematics Students

Next, we have: aliquot:

Al·i·quot  adjective  \al’-ə-kwət\

1. (of a number) dividing evenly into a larger number, as 6 is an aliquot part of 18. See also aliquant.

Date: late 16th century.

Origin: it comes from the Latin word aliquot (some, a small number).

Example: You don’t mean “aliquot” you mean “aliquant.” —Countless Mathematics Students

That’s right: these two words that sound almost identical mean exactly the opposite. It would be like deciding the best words for “yes” and “no” would be “yes” and “yef.” Only a mathematician would do this!

Odd Words: Agglutinate

influenza A Virus - AgglutinateWhat an exciting day we have with page six of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition! Although I must admit, it’s not a very good dictionary. I often have to consult other dictionaries to figure out what a word means. That’s definitely true of today’s word: agglutinate.

Offline Latin

Over the past few days, I’ve been very glad to have A Latin-English Dictionary for the Use of Junior Students. I picked it up at a thrift store years ago when I was writing a play about Latin. I have the Thirteenth Edition, which is from 1898. But it must have been a best-seller because it was up to the Twenty-fourth Edition by 1915. Regardless, it’s far more dependable than Google Translate. Of course, Latin is a late edition to the system. But you would think: Latin. That ought to be an easy one. I mean it gets Spanish and Italian and they are just Latin++. What’s the big deal?

Beyond Agglutinate

There were other interesting words. “Agio” is supposedly the fee charged by brokers to turn coin into cash. So that’s what those awful machines are charging. And it’s like 8.9 percent, which is an outrage! But this is the page that includes a personal favorite of mine: agoraphobia. Most people will never know the thrill of being freaked out by an empty parking lot!

Instead, you have have to settle for thrilling to the word “agglutinate”:

Ag·glu·ti·nate  verb  \ə-‘gloo-tən-āt\

1. (in linguistics) to form and express grammatical relationships by the continued additions of strings of meaningful elements, as in Turkish.

Date: 16th century.

Origin: Latin: agglutino, which means “to fasten to, or attach.”

Example: Let’s get together and agglutinate – and more linguistics valentines.AllThingsLinguistic

The Real Meaning of Agglutinate

Dictionary.com defines agglutination as, “a process of word formation in which morphemes, each having one relatively constant shape, are combined without fusion or morphophonemic change, and in which each grammatical category is typically represented by a single morpheme in the resulting word, especially such a process involving the addition of one or more affixes to a base, as in Turkish, in which ev means ‘house,’ ev-den means ‘from a house,’ and ev-ler-den means ‘from houses.'” So now you understand that business about Turkish!

Odd Words: Afflatus

Divine Inspiration of Music - AfflatusI am now on page five of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition. Do you know what that means? Word that start with “ae.” And that also means a lot of, “See [word that starts with “e”].

I was struck by the definition of a fairly common word: aesthete. I do know that people very often use it as a pejorative. But I was still struck with this: “a lover of beautiful things, especially to the scornful exclusion of practicalities.” Ouch! Why is it necessary to throw “scornful” in there? It makes aesthetes sound like monsters!

Other Good Words

There were other good words as well. “Advalorem” has something to do with the value of something for the purpose of an import tax. There was also “afferent,” which has something to do with a nerve impulse toward the inside of the body. So maybe when you touch something, the signal moves in an afferent way? I don’t know. And I don’t have to know. It isn’t today’s word!

Today’s word is a great one: afflatus.

Af·fla·tus  noun  \ə-flā’-təs\

1. inspiration; knowledge or understanding. (Note: other sources tend to include the word “divine” in this definition.)

Date: 17th century.

Origin: it comes from the Latin word afflare, which means “to blow or breath on.”

Example: But [Thomas] Wolfe’s temperament was white-hot, his need to digest experience more urgent, and his style of expression too full of the divine afflatus, to the point where his bombastic writing strikes contemporary tastes as almost unreadable.Gerald Howard

Odd Words: Actinism

Sunrise - ActinismI had a much better time with page four of The New York Times Everyday Reader’s Dictionary of Misunderstood, Misused, and Mispronounced Words: Revised Edition. There were a handful of words I didn’t know. In particular, did you know there’s a word for a lack of perspiration? There is: adiaphoresis.

But the page does bring up something I said earlier: that if you get past 50,000 words, you’re basically down to different kinds of fish. Most of the words I don’t know are technical — usually medical. At this point, I’m thinking that I may actually have a vocabulary of 50,000 words. That’s a shocking thought. Where are they? And do I really need all those little buggers clogging up my brain? Certainly I don’t use them for writing.

How Long Can This Go On?

To be honest, I’m not sure how long I can keep this all up. The words aren’t that interesting. And dealing with the definitions is a real pain. That’s especially true because I’m trying to stay as close to the book as possible. And the type is so small and my eyes so bad that I can’t use the book while writing because the light isn’t good enough.

Regardless, I have a science word for you today. And given what it is, it’s surprising that I didn’t know it: actinism.

Ac·ti·nism  noun  \ak’-ti-nizm\

1. the property of radiation to produce chemical changes.

Date: 1840.

Origin: it comes from the Greek word ἀκτῖνος, which means beam, as in “light beam.”

Example: Niepce, a Frenchman, discovered “actinism,” that power in the sun’s rays which produces a chemical effect…Henry David Thoreau