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<channel><title><![CDATA[THE ETYMOLOGY NERD - Blog (Archived)]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog]]></link><description><![CDATA[Blog (Archived)]]></description><pubDate>Mon, 11 May 2026 12:56:26 -0400</pubDate><generator>Weebly</generator><item><title><![CDATA[ETYMOLOGY NERD BLOG (ARCHIVED)]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/update]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/update#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Thu, 28 Dec 2023 03:26:52 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/update</guid><description><![CDATA[Hello readers!I've primarily transitioned to uploading video content, which you can find on&nbsp;Tiktok here, Instagram here, or YouTube here.I won't be posting on this blog anymore, but I will continue making written content on my Substack hereYou can also pre-order my book Algospeak&nbsp;here&nbsp;- thanks for your support :) [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">Hello readers!<br /><br />I've primarily transitioned to uploading video content, which you can find on&nbsp;<span>Tiktok </span><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@etymologynerd" target="_blank">here</a><span>, Instagram </span><a href="https://instagram.com/etymologynerd" target="_blank">here</a><span>, or YouTube </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/@etymology_nerd" target="_blank">here</a><span>.<br /><br />I won't be posting on this blog anymore, but I will continue making written content on my Substack </span><a href="https://etymology.substack.com/" target="_blank">here<br /><br /></a>You can also pre-order my book <em>Algospeak</em>&nbsp;<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/776856/algospeak-by-adam-aleksic/" target="_blank">here</a>&nbsp;- thanks for your support :)</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[WATER TANK SUPPLY UNITS]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/water-tank-supply-units]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/water-tank-supply-units#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 02 May 2022 01:47:30 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/water-tank-supply-units</guid><description><![CDATA[The word&nbsp;tank&nbsp;in reference to the armored fighting vehicles is unsurprisingly predated by the word&nbsp;tank&nbsp;meaning "large receptacle," but the story connecting them is rather interesting. When the armored tank was invented in 1915, it was provisionally described as a "Caterpillar Machine Gun Destroyer" or "Land Cruiser," but defense officials in the United Kingdom were concerned about the name being leaked to enemy intelligence, so, for secrecy's sake, they were labelled as "Wat [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The word&nbsp;<em>tank</em><em>&nbsp;</em>in reference to the armored fighting vehicles is unsurprisingly predated by the word&nbsp;<em>tank</em>&nbsp;meaning "large receptacle," but the story connecting them is rather interesting. When the armored tank was invented in 1915, it was provisionally described as a "Caterpillar Machine Gun Destroyer" or "Land Cruiser," but defense officials in the United Kingdom were concerned about the name being leaked to enemy intelligence, so, for secrecy's sake, they were labelled as "Water Tank Supply Units", which was shortened to "tank" because it rolled off the tongue better. The word for "receptacle" came to English in the mid-seventeenth century through Portuguese&nbsp;<em>tanque</em>, which referred to any kind of "liquid container." That was most likely picked up by traders from either the Gujarati word&nbsp;<em>tankh</em>&nbsp;or the Marathi word&nbsp;<em>tanka</em>, both meaning "cistern" or "reservoir." Finally it probably all traces back to the Sanskrit word&nbsp;<em>tadaga-m</em>, meaning "pool," but is also a small faction of linguists who think that the Indian words actually come from&nbsp;<em>tanque</em>, and the Portuguese word is actually from Latin&nbsp;<em>stagnum</em>&#8203;, meaning "pool" as well.</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA["EMPIRE" "STATE" BUILDING]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/empire-state-building]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/empire-state-building#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Tue, 08 Mar 2022 07:34:36 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/empire-state-building</guid><description><![CDATA[When people refer to New York by its nickname, everybody invariably calls it the&nbsp;EMPIRE state, with emphasis on the first word. This is a very normal way to refer to places: we all also say&nbsp;OCEAN state&nbsp;for Rhode Island and&nbsp;PEACH state&nbsp;for Georgia, for instance. However, something really interesting happens when people use the phrase in the name of the famous art deco building on 34th street. If you're from New York, you're much more likely to refer to it as&nbsp;the&nbsp [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">When people refer to New York by its nickname, everybody invariably calls it the&nbsp;<em>EMPIRE state</em>, with emphasis on the first word. This is a very normal way to refer to places: we all also say&nbsp;<em>OCEAN state&nbsp;</em>for Rhode Island and&nbsp;<em>PEACH state</em>&nbsp;for Georgia, for instance. However, something really interesting happens when people use the phrase in the name of the famous art deco building on 34th street. If you're from New York, you're much more likely to refer to it as&nbsp;<em>the&nbsp;</em><em>Empire STATE building</em>, and if you're not, you'll say&nbsp;<em>the&nbsp;</em><em>EMPIRE state building</em>. This is particularly unusual because, when the word&nbsp;<em>building</em>&nbsp;typically comes after a compound, then the emphasis goes on what would be normally emphasized in the compound (like in&nbsp;<em>New York LIFE insurance building</em>&nbsp;or&nbsp;<em>LEHMAN brothers&nbsp;building</em>).&nbsp;The most plausible explanation for this is that when people from outside the state refer to the building, they think of it in the context of being in the Empire State, while people from New York learn the phrase as a unit and thus say it in a way which enables quicker, easier pronunciation. They don't think about it in relation to the rest of the state; it's just a part of their daily lives. Next time you see your New York friends, ask them about this and see what they think!<br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[KIEV AND KYIV]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/kiev-and-kyiv]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/kiev-and-kyiv#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sun, 27 Feb 2022 21:53:07 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/kiev-and-kyiv</guid><description><![CDATA[If you're like me, you may have grown up seeing the name of the capital of Ukraine spelled Kiev, and gotten a little confused when news outlets started referring to it as Kyiv. There are actually a lot of different spellings, including Ky&iuml;v, Kyjiv, and Kyyiv, as well as the obsolete&nbsp;Kiou, Kiow, Kiovia, Kiowia, Kiew, Kief, and Kieff. The reason for all this was a lack of standardization on how to transliterate Ukrainian toponyms into English.&nbsp;Kiev&nbsp;was widespread from the 1920s [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">If you're like me, you may have grown up seeing the name of the capital of Ukraine spelled <em>Kiev</em>, and gotten a little confused when news outlets started referring to it as <em>Kyiv</em>. There are actually a lot of different spellings, including <em>Ky&iuml;v</em>, <em>Kyjiv</em>, and <em>Kyyiv</em>, as well as the obsolete&nbsp;<em>Kiou</em>,<em> Kiow</em>,<em> Kiovia</em>,<em> Kiowia</em>,<em> Kiew</em>,<em> Kief</em>, and<em> Kieff</em>. The reason for all this was a lack of standardization on how to transliterate Ukrainian toponyms into English.&nbsp;<em>Kiev</em>&nbsp;was widespread from the 1920s onward because it was under the sovereignty of the Soviet Union and that was the Russian way to write down the city name. However, when Ukraine got independence, its Ministry of Foreign Affairs began a campaign to replace Russian linguistic relics. This started with formally changing the names of cities in the 1990s (this included other cities like&nbsp;<em>Odessa</em>&nbsp;instead of&nbsp;<em>Odesa</em>,&nbsp;<em>Lvov</em>&nbsp;instead of&nbsp;<em>Lviv</em>, and&nbsp;<em>Kharkov</em>&nbsp;instead of&nbsp;<em>Kharkiv</em>) and then lobbying Western media to update their stylizations. This didn't really pick up steam until Ukraine became more relevant on the national stage following the Russian invasion of Crimea and the current war. By this point, most news outlets and state departments have adopted&nbsp;<em>Kyiv</em>&nbsp;and the other spellings as correct. Going back in time,&nbsp;<em>Kyiv</em>&nbsp;has traditionally been thought to be named after its legendary founder&nbsp;<em>Kiy</em>, but similar to the&nbsp;<em>Rome-Romulus</em>&nbsp;situation, this is probably folk etymology. More likely, it's from a local word meaning something like "stick" or "club," but that's uncertain.&nbsp;<br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[CEREDIG'S LAND]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/ceredigs-land]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/ceredigs-land#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 07 Feb 2022 07:42:34 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/ceredigs-land</guid><description><![CDATA[The Crimean War bequeathed a slew of linguistic contributions to the English language - including the&nbsp;balaclava being named after the Battle of Balaclava and the phrase&nbsp;thin red line&nbsp;coming from the reports of a Scottish regiment during the war - but today we're going to focus on the&nbsp;cardigan, a kind of sweater that became fashionable during the war. This originally referred specifically to a knitted sleeveless vest, named after James Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, who was  [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The Crimean War bequeathed a slew of linguistic contributions to the English language - including the&nbsp;<em>balaclava </em>being named after the Battle of Balaclava and the phrase&nbsp;<em>thin red line</em>&nbsp;coming from the reports of a Scottish regiment during the war - but today we're going to focus on the&nbsp;<em>cardigan</em>, a kind of sweater that became fashionable during the war. This originally referred specifically to a knitted sleeveless vest, named after James Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, who was known for wearing a garment like that when he led the Charge of the Light Brigade. As the story of the event was retold back home in the United Kingdom, that detail caused the clothing item to rise in popularity and the word to be enshrined in the English language. Over time, the term also expanded from being a "sleeveless vest" to knitted sweaters in general, and then it became more associated with long sleeves and women's fashion due to the work of Coco Chanel in the 1940s and 50s, which is how we ended up where we are today. Finally, going backwards in time, the&nbsp;<em>Cardigan </em>General<em>&nbsp;</em>Brudenell governed was a county seat in Wales that was an Anglicization of the Welsh word&nbsp;<em>Ceredigion</em>, meaning "Ceredig's land," which referred to Ceredig ap Cunedda, a king of Wales in the 400s CE.<br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[SUBLIME LIMITS]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/sublime-limnits]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/sublime-limnits#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Tue, 25 Jan 2022 01:59:30 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/sublime-limnits</guid><description><![CDATA[The Latin noun&nbsp;limes, which meant&nbsp;"path" or "boundary," has had a remarkable&nbsp;impact on the English language. Its accusative form,&nbsp;limitem, travelled into Old French as&nbsp;limite,&nbsp;and in the fourteenth century that became&nbsp;limit. It also spawned the Latin word for "threshold",&nbsp;limen, which developed into words like&nbsp;liminal ("pertaining to thresholds"), sublime ("up to a threshold", meant to evoke lofty concepts),&nbsp;eliminate&nbsp;("out of the threshold" [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The Latin noun&nbsp;<em>limes</em>, which meant&nbsp;"path" or "boundary," has had a remarkable&nbsp;impact on the English language. Its accusative form,&nbsp;<em>limitem</em>, travelled into Old French as&nbsp;<em>limite</em>,&nbsp;and in the fourteenth century that became&nbsp;<em>limit</em>. It also spawned the Latin word for "threshold",&nbsp;<em>limen</em>, which developed into words like&nbsp;<em>liminal</em> ("pertaining to thresholds"), <em>sublime</em> ("up to a threshold", meant to evoke lofty concepts),&nbsp;<em>eliminate</em>&nbsp;("out of the threshold"), and&nbsp;<em>preliminary</em>&nbsp;("before the threshold"). There's also the word&nbsp;<em>lintel</em>, used to describe horizontal support beams used on doors and windows. Because that's related to thresholds too, it comes from a variant of Old French&nbsp;<em>lintier</em>, which, through Vulgar Latin, also traces to&nbsp;<em>limes</em>. Finally,&nbsp;<em>limes </em>comes from Latin&nbsp;<em>limus</em>&nbsp;("askew"), which is thought to be from Proto-Indo-European&nbsp;<em>hehl</em>, "to bend." On a tangential but interesting note, there was a similar word,&nbsp;<em>limbus</em>, which also meant "border" and gave us the theological concept of&nbsp;<em>limbo</em>&nbsp;(etymologically unrelated to the game with the bar), but that's completely unrelated, coming from a different Proto-Indo-European root entirely.<br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[CASSEROLE PAN]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/casserole-pan]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/casserole-pan#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sun, 16 Jan 2022 21:23:35 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/casserole-pan</guid><description><![CDATA[The word&nbsp;casserole&nbsp;was borrowed in the early 1700s from French, where it meant "sauce pan." The -erole&nbsp;part is a lengthened version of the diminutive suffix -ole that was tacked on in the sixteenth century to&nbsp;casse, which just meant "pan," and that traces to the Medieval Latin word&nbsp;cattia, meaning either "pan" or "vessel." Because language is messy, there was probably also some influence from the Proven&ccedil;al noun&nbsp;cassa, which also meant&nbsp;"pan" and probably  [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The word&nbsp;<em>casserole&nbsp;</em>was borrowed in the early 1700s from French, where it meant "sauce pan." The -<em>er</em><em>ole</em>&nbsp;part is a lengthened version of the diminutive suffix -<em>ole</em> that was tacked on in the sixteenth century to&nbsp;<em>casse</em>, which just meant "pan," and that traces to the Medieval Latin word&nbsp;<em>cattia</em>, meaning either "pan" or "vessel." Because language is messy, there was probably also some influence from the Proven&ccedil;al noun&nbsp;<em>cassa</em>, which also meant&nbsp;"pan" and probably comes from Latin&nbsp;<em>capsa</em>, meaning "box." However, it's thought that&nbsp;<em>cattia</em>&nbsp;comes from a diminutive of the Greek word&nbsp;<em>&#8203;kyathos</em>, which was used to describe a special kind of wine vase, similar to a ladle, with a long and looping handle. That's where the trail runs cold, although some think that it could be related to the Proto-Indo-European reconstruction&nbsp;<em>kewh</em>, meaning "to swell." In the late 1880s,&nbsp;<em>casserole</em>&nbsp;started to be extended to the dishes cooked in it, through phrases like&nbsp;<em>en casserole</em>&nbsp;or <em>&agrave; la casserole</em>.<br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[TRIPLE UNION SOCIETY]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/triple-union-society]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/triple-union-society#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sat, 08 Jan 2022 06:37:42 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/triple-union-society</guid><description><![CDATA[There are five main definitions of the word&nbsp;triad. In music, it can refer to a chord of three tones; in electronics, it can refer to three phosphor dots on a cathode ray tube; in linguistics, it can be a word with three syllables; and, in general, it can be a group of three things. All four of these just come from the Latin and Greek word for three,&nbsp;trias, which eventually traces to the Proto-Indo-European reconstruction&nbsp;trei, also "three". The fifth definition, referring to organ [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">There are five main definitions of the word&nbsp;<em>triad</em>. In music, it can refer to a chord of three tones; in electronics, it can refer to three phosphor dots on a cathode ray tube; in linguistics, it can be a word with three syllables; and, in general, it can be a group of three things. All four of these just come from the Latin and Greek word for three,&nbsp;<em>trias</em>, which eventually traces to the Proto-Indo-European reconstruction&nbsp;<em>trei</em>, also "three". The fifth definition, referring to organized crime syndicates in east Asia, is also related to the others but it has a much more interesting backstory. The first recorded mention of them in English corpora is from the early nineteenth century, and there are two main theories as to where the name came from. It's been suggested that British authorities in Hong Kong named them after the traditional triangular symbol that they used in a lot of patriotic imagery, but the term is also thought by others to predate British involvement in the area. It could also be a translation of Chinese&nbsp;<em style="color:rgb(32, 33, 34)">San Ho Hui</em><em style="color:rgb(32, 33, 34)">,</em><em style="color:rgb(32, 33, 34)">&nbsp;</em>or "triple union society", a secret organization formed to cause the ouster of the Manchu Dynasty - with the name referring to the union of heaven, earth, and man. Either way, throughout the 1800s similar groups proliferated in Chinese and Chinese-influenced areas, retaining the name. Recently, the contemporary usage of the word has also been used by some to refer to Chinese criminal organizations in general, not just ones with that particular tradition.</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[GIRLBOSSIFIED]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/girlbossified]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/girlbossified#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 27 Dec 2021 05:33:57 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/girlbossified</guid><description><![CDATA[Yesterday was a landmark day in the New York Times&#8203;: it was the first time the word "girlbossified" was used in the newspaper. This got me thinking about how I've been seeing&nbsp;girlboss pop up a lot more recently (generally used to describe a "feminist icon", although according to Urban Dictionary this can sometimes have negative connotations), so I did a little dive into the history. Turns out it was coined in 2014 by American businesswoman Sophia Amoruso in the title of her autobiogra [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">Yesterday was a landmark day in the <em>New York Times</em>&#8203;: it was the first time the word "girlbossified" <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2021/12/26/arts/television/dickinson-the-great-six-feminism.html" target="_blank">was used in the newspaper</a>. This got me thinking about how I've been seeing&nbsp;<em>girlboss</em> pop up a lot more recently (generally used to describe a "feminist icon", although according to Urban Dictionary this can sometimes have negative connotations), so I did a little dive into the history. Turns out it was coined in 2014 by American businesswoman Sophia Amoruso in the title of her autobiography,&nbsp;<em>#Girlboss</em>. This set off a hashtag trend on social media and a subsequent 2017 Netflix series - by that point it was fairly established. At a certain point around that time, it began being used pejoratively to describe media or advertising situations where were women were portrayed with more attention focused on their gender than their other qualities. In January 2021, the phrase&nbsp;<em>gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss</em>&nbsp;began being used as a parody of&nbsp;<em>live</em>,&nbsp;<em>laugh, love</em>, and that gave the word a kind of meme quality that allowed it to return on a meta-ironic level.</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[BITTER CHERRY]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/bitter-cherry]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/bitter-cherry#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 20 Dec 2021 09:41:13 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/bitter-cherry</guid><description><![CDATA[Both definitions of the word&nbsp;maraschino, describing either the type of cherry or the liqueur obtained from distilling cherries, come from a diminutive form of the Italian word&nbsp;marasca, which referred to a specific kind of black cherry. That comes from the word&nbsp;amaro, meaning "bitter" (because the cherries tasted bitter; this is also probably the source of the name of the morello&nbsp;cherry), and&nbsp;amaro&nbsp;traces back to the Latin word&nbsp;amarus, also "bitter". Finally, th [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">Both definitions of the word&nbsp;<em>maraschino</em>, describing either the type of cherry or the liqueur obtained from distilling cherries, come from a diminutive form of the Italian word&nbsp;<em>marasca</em>, which referred to a specific kind of black cherry. That comes from the word&nbsp;<em>amaro</em>, meaning "bitter" (because the cherries tasted bitter; this is also probably the source of the name of the <em>morello</em>&nbsp;cherry), and&nbsp;<em>amaro</em>&nbsp;traces back to the Latin word&nbsp;<em>amarus</em>, also "bitter". Finally, that's reconstructed back to Proto-Indo-European <em>hem</em>, meaning "raw". Interestingly, the <em>sch&nbsp;</em>combination of letters should have shown up as an&nbsp;<em>sk</em>&nbsp;sound as the Italian word travelled into English, but Americans in the early twentieth century didn't know how to pronounce it correctly, so they said it with an&nbsp;<em>sh</em>&nbsp;and that just kind of stuck, reaching the UK and beyond in the 1970s. Usage peaked in 1932, but it's been trending upwards again in recent decades.</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[OHR WURMS]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/ohr-wurms]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/ohr-wurms#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sun, 19 Dec 2021 09:16:11 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/ohr-wurms</guid><description><![CDATA[The word&nbsp;earworm, which today describes infectious melodies that get stuck in your head, was first attested in 1598 in reference to the&nbsp;earwig&nbsp;insect, a usage that has since become archaic and is in fact unrelated to the modern meaning. That "catchy tune" definition comes from a 1978 calque of the German phrase&nbsp;Ohr wurm, also translating to "ear worm". The idea was that many pieces of music burrow into your head much like an insect would&mdash;an unpleasant thought, I know.&n [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The word&nbsp;<em>earworm</em>, which today describes infectious melodies that get stuck in your head, was first attested in 1598 in reference to the&nbsp;<em>earwig</em>&nbsp;insect, a usage that has since become archaic and is in fact unrelated to the modern meaning. That "catchy tune" definition comes from a 1978 calque of the German phrase&nbsp;<em>Ohr wurm</em>, also translating to "ear worm". The idea was that many pieces of music burrow into your head much like an insect would&mdash;an unpleasant thought, I know.&nbsp;<em>Ohr</em>&nbsp;comes from Old High German&nbsp;<em>ora</em>&nbsp;and Proto-Germanic&nbsp;<em>auso</em>, and ultimately traces to Proto-Indo-European&nbsp;<em>hows</em>, also meaning "ear".<em>&nbsp;</em><em>Wurm</em>, meanwhile, is a relative of the English words&nbsp;<em>worm</em>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<em>wyrm</em>, and it comes from Middle High German&nbsp;<em>wurm</em>. Finally, that comes from Proto-Germanic&nbsp;<em>wurmiz</em>&nbsp;and Proto-Indo-European <em>wrmis</em>, which also meant "worm" and might be from&nbsp;<em>wer,</em> a verb meaning "to turn" or "bend".</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[FARCICAL STUFFING]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/farcical-stuffing]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/farcical-stuffing#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Thu, 25 Nov 2021 05:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/farcical-stuffing</guid><description><![CDATA[The word&nbsp;farce&nbsp;was first attested in the English language in a 1390 cookbook, where it was spelled&nbsp;fars&nbsp;and meant "stuffing". Then, by the early sixteenth century, it became a thing in French theatre to insert comic interludes in dramatic plays. This was thought to be a sort of cinematic "stuffing", and eventually those comic interludes took on a life of their own and the word came to refer to any comedic work with crude exaggerations. The word traces to the Old French verb&n [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The word&nbsp;<em>farce</em>&nbsp;was first attested in the English language in a 1390 cookbook, where it was spelled&nbsp;<em>fars</em>&nbsp;and meant "stuffing". Then, by the early sixteenth century, it became a thing in French theatre to insert comic interludes in dramatic plays. This was thought to be a sort of cinematic "stuffing", and eventually those comic interludes took on a life of their own and the word came to refer to any comedic work with crude exaggerations. The word traces to the Old French verb&nbsp;<em>farcir</em>, which meant "to stuff" and was borrowed in the thirteenth century from Latin&nbsp;<em>farcire</em>, also meaning "stuff" or "cram". That, through Proto-Italic&nbsp;<em>farkjo</em>, is eventually derived from the Proto-Indo-European reconstruction&nbsp;<em>brek</em>, meaning "cram together" (also thought by some etymologists to be the source of the word <em>frequent</em>, with the connection being the idea of short intervals being crammed together).<br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[AN ITALIAN SONG]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/an-italian-song]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/an-italian-song#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Fri, 19 Nov 2021 05:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/an-italian-song</guid><description><![CDATA[A&nbsp;carmagnole&nbsp;is a type of song and street dance popular during the French Revolution, and when I first looked up the word, I was pretty sure it would somehow be related to the Latin word&nbsp;carmen, meaning "song". However, I was very mistaken. The word comes from the title of a specific song,&nbsp;La Carmagnole, first sung by the revolutionary&nbsp;sans-culottes&nbsp;in August 1792. The name was a reference to a type of short jacket that was popular at the time among the lower classe [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">A&nbsp;<em>carmagnole</em>&nbsp;is a type of song and street dance popular during the French Revolution, and when I first looked up the word, I was pretty sure it would somehow be related to the Latin word&nbsp;<em>carmen</em>, meaning "song". However, I was very mistaken. The word comes from the title of a specific song,&nbsp;<em>La Carmagnole</em>, first sung by the revolutionary&nbsp;<em>sans-culottes</em>&nbsp;in August 1792. The name was a reference to a type of short jacket that was popular at the time among the lower classes. That comes from the name of an Italian town, <em>Carmagnola</em>, because it was associated with the Piedmontese peasants who brought over the fashion. I couldn't find any more details on the town's toponymy, but there is a well-known sculpture of Roman Emperor Justinian's head in Venice called&nbsp;<em>Carmagnola</em>&nbsp;because the artist was from the city and there's also a strain of industrial hemp from northern Italy called&nbsp;<em>Carmagnola.</em></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[CRANE BERRIES]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/crane-berries]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/crane-berries#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Tue, 09 Nov 2021 05:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/crane-berries</guid><description><![CDATA[The&nbsp;berry&nbsp;part of the word&nbsp;cranberry&nbsp;is obvious, but what in the world is a cran? We can trace the archaic prefix back to the noun's first usage in 1672, when it referred to the North American plant. It seems that the colonists had some German influence, because they named it after a similar plant in central Europe that was called&nbsp;kraanbere&nbsp;in Low German. The&nbsp;kraan&nbsp;part of that meant "crane" like the bird, possibly due to a perceived resemblance between th [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The&nbsp;<em>berry</em>&nbsp;part of the word&nbsp;<em>cranberry</em>&nbsp;is obvious, but what in the world is a <em>cran</em>? We can trace the archaic prefix back to the noun's first usage in 1672, when it referred to the North American plant. It seems that the colonists had some German influence, because they named it after a similar plant in central Europe that was called&nbsp;<em>kraanbere</em>&nbsp;in Low German. The&nbsp;<em>kraan</em>&nbsp;part of that meant "crane" like the bird, possibly due to a perceived resemblance between the plant's stamens and the beaks of cranes, although that's unsure.&nbsp;The word, which is a cognate of English <em>crane</em>, derives from Proto-Germanic&nbsp;<em>krano</em>&nbsp;(still "crane") and eventually the Proto-Indo-European reconstruction&nbsp;<em>gerh</em>, meaning "to cry hoarsely".&nbsp;<em>Bere</em>, which is likewise related to English&nbsp;<em>berry</em>, probably derives from Proto-Indo-European&nbsp;<em>beh</em>, meaning "shine" or "glisten". Looking at Google Trends, search frequency for <em>cranberry</em>&nbsp;consistently peaks every November, which is unsurprising but still interesting to me.</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[THE SABINE -L-]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/the-sabine-l]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/the-sabine-l#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Wed, 03 Nov 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/the-sabine-l</guid><description><![CDATA[I recently learned that there is a phenomenon of the letter&nbsp;d&nbsp;in Ancient Greek sometimes becoming&nbsp;l&nbsp;in Latin. Here are some examples of this:The Latin-based word&nbsp;lachrymose&nbsp;comes from Greek&nbsp;dakryma, meaning "tear".Latin&nbsp;olere&nbsp;("to emit a smell") comes from Greek Greek&nbsp;odme&nbsp;("scent";&nbsp;also the source of&nbsp;odor)Ulysses is the Latin name for Greek&nbsp;OdysseusThe Latin word for "laurel,"&nbsp;laurus, is apparently related to Greek&nbsp; [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">I recently learned that there is a phenomenon of the letter&nbsp;<em>d</em>&nbsp;in Ancient Greek sometimes becoming&nbsp;<em>l</em>&nbsp;in Latin. Here are some examples of this:<ul><li>The Latin-based word&nbsp;<em>lachrymose</em>&nbsp;comes from Greek&nbsp;<em>dakryma</em>, meaning "tear".</li><li>Latin&nbsp;<em>olere</em>&nbsp;("to emit a smell") comes from Greek Greek&nbsp;<em>odme</em>&nbsp;("scent";&nbsp;also the source of&nbsp;<em>odor</em>)</li><li><em>Ulysses</em> is the Latin name for Greek&nbsp;<em>Odysseus</em></li><li>The Latin word for "laurel,"&nbsp;<em>laurus</em>, is apparently related to Greek&nbsp;<em>daphne</em></li></ul> There are several other such examples, but hardly enough to create a sound change law. One hypothesis that was proposed is that there was a Sabine dialect of Latin which generalized their&nbsp;<em>d</em>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<em>l</em>&nbsp;sounds. This is called the "Sabine -L-" hypothesis and it's been largely discredited because there's no way to consistently describe the process involved. Despite that, nobody really knows why the words changed in this way. Maybe typographic error? Maybe some other obscure linguistic quirk? Just wanted to share this cool mystery.</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[A CURSORY GLANCE]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/a-cursory-glance]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/a-cursory-glance#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Fri, 09 Jul 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/a-cursory-glance</guid><description><![CDATA[Back before&nbsp;cursors&nbsp;were the moving things on our computer screens, the word referred to a sliding piece of a scientific instrument. Earlier than that, in Latin, it meant "errand boy." This comes from the more literal translation of "runner," since&nbsp; the word comes from the past participle stem of the verb&nbsp;currere, meaning "to run." There are several other English derivations from that stem: the word&nbsp;cursive&nbsp;was borrowed in 1784 to describe a kind of "running" script [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">Back before&nbsp;<em>cursors</em>&nbsp;were the moving things on our computer screens, the word referred to a sliding piece of a scientific instrument. Earlier than that, in Latin, it meant "errand boy." This comes from the more literal translation of "runner," since&nbsp; the word comes from the past participle stem of the verb&nbsp;<em>currere</em>, meaning "to run." There are several other English derivations from that stem: the word&nbsp;<em>cursive</em>&nbsp;was borrowed in 1784 to describe a kind of "running" script, the word <em>cursory</em> evolved from a meaning of "rapid" to "superficial" or "careless," and the word&nbsp;<em>course</em>&nbsp;comes from a sense of onward movement. Finally, <em>currere </em>traces, through Proto-Italic&nbsp;<em>korzo</em>, to the Proto-Indo-European reconstruction&nbsp;<em>kers</em>, also meaning "run." Cursors are also called <em>mouses</em>/<em>mice</em> because of the physical clicking thing's resemblance to an actual mouse, and <em>pointers</em> because they point at things.</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[JACKS AND POTS]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/jacks-and-pots]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/jacks-and-pots#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Thu, 08 Jul 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/jacks-and-pots</guid><description><![CDATA[The word&nbsp;jackpot&nbsp;traces back to the late nineteenth century, when there were several games involving the words jack&nbsp;and&nbsp;pot. In a now-obsolete sense that emerged in 1881, the term was used in poker to describe antes beginning when no player has a card better than a jack. There were also two variants of the same poker-type game,&nbsp;Jacks or Better&nbsp;and&nbsp;Jack-Pots, wherein players contributed money to a central "pot" and then kept contributing more money until someone [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph" style="text-align:justify;">The word&nbsp;<em>jackpot</em>&nbsp;traces back to the late nineteenth century, when there were several games involving the words <em>jack&nbsp;</em>and&nbsp;<em>pot</em>. In a now-obsolete sense that emerged in 1881, the term was used in poker to describe antes beginning when no player has a card better than a jack. There were also two variants of the same poker-type game,&nbsp;<em>Jacks or Better</em>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<em>Jack-Pots</em>, wherein players contributed money to a central "pot" and then kept contributing more money until someone had jacks or higher. When slot machines became popular in the 1920s and 1930s, they started using the phrase&nbsp;<em>jackpot</em>&nbsp;for the highest payoffs, which led to the phrase&nbsp;<em>hit the jackpot</em>&nbsp;and the use of&nbsp;<em>jackpot</em>&nbsp;to mean "big prize acquired by chance". Interestingly,&nbsp;<em>jackpot</em>&nbsp;had a negative sense for a while: it sometimes meant "difficult situation" (from the idea that it was difficult to get out of a card game) and it was used in early 1900s criminal slang to mean "arrest".</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[SIGHT EVERYWHERE]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/sight-everywhere]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/sight-everywhere#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Wed, 07 Jul 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/sight-everywhere</guid><description><![CDATA[Recently, I had the realization that the word&nbsp;panorama&nbsp;immediately meant "wide view" to me throughout elementary and middle school, but after that my prototype of the word shifted to be the camera mode on iPhone. It's interesting how our own perceptions of words change with new technology! Anyway,&nbsp;panorama&nbsp;developed from the name of a specific painting of a Scottish landscape on a cylindrical surface by eighteenth-century English artist Robert Barker. He coined the word from  [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">Recently, I had the realization that the word&nbsp;<em>panorama</em>&nbsp;immediately meant "wide view" to me throughout elementary and middle school, but after that my prototype of the word shifted to be the camera mode on iPhone. It's interesting how our own perceptions of words change with new technology! Anyway,&nbsp;<em>panorama</em>&nbsp;developed from the name of a specific painting of a Scottish landscape on a cylindrical surface by eighteenth-century English artist Robert Barker. He coined the word from the Greek prefix&nbsp;<em>pan-</em>, meaning "everywhere", and&nbsp;<em>horama</em>, meaning "sight", "spectacle", or "that which is seen". The&nbsp;<em>h</em>&nbsp;was dropped because it would be weird to say&nbsp;<em>panhorama</em>, but that later led to confusions such as when the word&nbsp;<em>diorama&nbsp;</em>was coined based on Greek&nbsp;<em>dia-</em>&nbsp;(meaning "through") and&nbsp;<em>panorama</em>.&nbsp;Finally,&nbsp;<em>pan-</em>&nbsp;is from Proto-Indo-European&nbsp;<em>pant</em>, meaning "all", and&nbsp;<em>horama</em>&nbsp;traces to PIE&nbsp;<em>wer</em>, meaning "observe".</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[CAMP AROUND]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/camp-around]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/camp-around#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Tue, 06 Jul 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/camp-around</guid><description><![CDATA[The word&nbsp;beleaguer&nbsp;was first introduced to the English language sometime in the 1580s, when it meant "t0 surround with troops" (basically&nbsp;besiege). Eventually, that type of problem became more metaphorical, giving us the modern definition of "cause repeated problems for". The&nbsp;be-&nbsp;part of&nbsp;beleaguer is an archaic suffix meaning "around" (also present in words like&nbsp;beset&nbsp;and&nbsp;belay) and the&nbsp;leaguer&nbsp;part comes from the Dutch or German verb&nbsp;l [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The word&nbsp;<em>beleaguer</em>&nbsp;was first introduced to the English language sometime in the 1580s, when it meant "t0 surround with troops" (basically&nbsp;<em>besiege</em>). Eventually, that type of problem became more metaphorical, giving us the modern definition of "cause repeated problems for". The&nbsp;<em>be-</em>&nbsp;part of&nbsp;<em>beleaguer</em> is an archaic suffix meaning "around" (also present in words like&nbsp;<em>beset</em>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<em>belay</em>) and the&nbsp;<em>leaguer</em>&nbsp;part comes from the Dutch or German verb&nbsp;<em>legeren</em>, meaning "to camp". Literally, that meant "to camp around", which makes sense, given the historical meaning.&nbsp;<em>Legeren</em>&nbsp;is a relative of the word&nbsp;<em>lair</em>&nbsp;and comes&nbsp;from Dutch&nbsp;<em>leger</em>, meaning "bed". Finally,&nbsp;<em>leger</em>&nbsp;comes from the Proto-Indo-European reconstruction&nbsp;<em>legh</em>, which meant "lie" and is also the source of classic words such as&nbsp;<em>lager, ledger, fellow</em>, and&nbsp;<em>law</em>. I've explained&nbsp;<em>be</em>&nbsp;before, but it comes from PIE&nbsp;<em>hepi</em>, meaning "at" or "near".</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[THE GENERAL IDEA]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/the-general-idea]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/the-general-idea#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 05 Jul 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/the-general-idea</guid><description><![CDATA[In elementary school, my third&nbsp;grade&nbsp;teacher&nbsp;told&nbsp;me&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;word&nbsp;gist&nbsp;(meaning "main idea")&nbsp;stood&nbsp;for&nbsp;general&nbsp;idea&nbsp;statement. Until&nbsp;recently,&nbsp;I&nbsp;had accepted&nbsp;that&nbsp;as&nbsp;true without&nbsp;thinking&nbsp;about&nbsp;it. However, it's&nbsp;pretty&nbsp;rare&nbsp;for&nbsp;acronym etymologies&nbsp;to&nbsp;be&nbsp;true,&nbsp;and&nbsp;this&nbsp;is&nbsp;no&nbsp;exception.&nbsp;The word originated as part of a  [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">In elementary school, my third<span>&nbsp;</span>grade<span>&nbsp;</span>teacher<span>&nbsp;</span>told<span>&nbsp;</span>me<span>&nbsp;</span>that<span>&nbsp;</span>the<span>&nbsp;</span>word<span>&nbsp;</span><em>gist</em><span>&nbsp;(meaning "main idea")&nbsp;</span>stood<span>&nbsp;</span>for<span>&nbsp;</span><em>general</em><span>&nbsp;<em>idea</em>&nbsp;<em>statement</em>. Until&nbsp;recently,&nbsp;I&nbsp;had accepted&nbsp;that&nbsp;as&nbsp;true without&nbsp;thinking&nbsp;about&nbsp;it. However, it's&nbsp;pretty&nbsp;rare&nbsp;for&nbsp;acronym etymologies&nbsp;to&nbsp;be&nbsp;true,&nbsp;and&nbsp;this&nbsp;is&nbsp;no&nbsp;exception.&nbsp;The word originated as part of a legal term of art referring to "the real ground" of an action or indictment. That comes from the Anglo-Norman phrase&nbsp;<em>cest action gist</em>, or "this action lies". The&nbsp;<em>gist</em>&nbsp;part of that is from the verb for "lie", <em>gesir</em>, and <em>gesir</em>&nbsp;traces to Latin&nbsp;<em>iacere</em>, also "to lie".&nbsp;<em>Iacere</em>&nbsp;(which is also the source of words like&nbsp;<em>trajectory, jet, project, adjacent,</em>&nbsp;and more) traces to the Proto-Italic reconstruction&nbsp;<em>jakeo</em>&nbsp;and ultimately Proto-Indo-European&nbsp;<em>yeh</em>, meaning "to throw". According to Google Ngrams,&nbsp;<em>gist</em>&nbsp;has had a very inconsistent pattern of usage with peaks in several centuries and currently makes up 0.00011% of all English words.</span></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[देवनागरी]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/2008843]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/2008843#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sun, 04 Jul 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/2008843</guid><description><![CDATA[The&nbsp;Devanagari&nbsp;script is an abugida used in India to express languages like Sanskrit, Hindi, Marathi, and more. The word for the script itself is Sanskrit, and comes from the words&nbsp;deva, meaning "divine", and&nbsp;nagari, meaning "abode" or "city". The idea was that a writing system was something "relating to a city" or based on something "spoken in cities", and this was just a better version of the pre-existing Nagari script.&nbsp;Deva, through Proto-Indo-Iranian&nbsp;daywas, com [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The&nbsp;<em>Devanagari</em>&nbsp;script is an abugida used in India to express languages like Sanskrit, Hindi, Marathi, and more. The word for the script itself is Sanskrit, and comes from the words&nbsp;<em>deva</em>, meaning "divine", and&nbsp;<em>nagari</em>, meaning "abode" or "city". The idea was that a writing system was something "relating to a city" or based on something "spoken in cities", and this was just a better version of the pre-existing Nagari script.&nbsp;<em>Deva</em>, through Proto-Indo-Iranian&nbsp;<em>daywas</em>, comes from the Proto-Indo-European root&nbsp;<em>dyew</em>, meaning "to be bright" (that's also the source of words such as&nbsp;<em>deity, diva, jovial, adieu,</em>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<em>sojourn</em>).&nbsp;<em>Nagari</em>, meanwhile, possibly comes from the unattested compound&nbsp;<em>nrgara</em>, meaning "gathering of men" and coming from&nbsp;<em>nr</em>, which meant "men", and&nbsp;<em>gara</em>, "gathering". It could also ultimately be Dravidian in origin: it's also been compared to Telugu&nbsp;<em>nagaru</em>, meaning "palace".</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[POGGERS]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/poggers]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/poggers#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sat, 03 Jul 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/poggers</guid><description><![CDATA[In recent years, the word&nbsp;poggers (or&nbsp;pog&nbsp;for short) has emerged among young people as an interjection denoting excitement. The term originated in the Twitch livestreaming community, which had a reaction emote with that name since early 2017. That's based on a humorous portmanteau of&nbsp;PogChamp, another emote depicting an excited man's face, and the Pepe the Frog,&nbsp;who is similarly shown smiling in the poggers emote. The name&nbsp;PogChamp&nbsp;comes from a 2011 video of tw [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">In recent years, the word&nbsp;<em>poggers (</em>or&nbsp;<em>pog</em>&nbsp;for short) has emerged among young people as an interjection denoting excitement. The term originated in the Twitch livestreaming community, which had a reaction emote with that name since early 2017. That's based on a humorous portmanteau of&nbsp;<em>PogChamp</em>, another emote depicting an excited man's face, and the <em>Pepe the Frog</em>,&nbsp;who is similarly shown smiling in the poggers emote. The name&nbsp;<em>PogChamp</em>&nbsp;comes from a 2011 video of two men playing the game Pogs, a children's game played using milk or juice caps. One of those juices was a tropical drink called&nbsp;<em>POG</em>, which lent its name to the game and stands for its ingredients&nbsp;<em>Pomegranate, Orange,</em>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<em>Guava.&nbsp;</em>Since its introduction, the word&nbsp;<em>poggers</em>&nbsp;rapidly became a meme, peaking in usage in late 2020 and declining after that. It's weird to me how much that juice name evolved over time.</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[COMING TOWARD A PORT]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/coming-toward-a-port]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/coming-toward-a-port#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Fri, 02 Jul 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/coming-toward-a-port</guid><description><![CDATA[When the word opportunity was first borrowed into the English language in 1387, it was spelled&nbsp;oportunite, and other forms around the time included&nbsp;oportunyte, oportewnyte, oportunyty, oppertunitie, and more. The noun was taken from Old French, where it also showed up as&nbsp;oportunite. That was borrowed in the thirteenth century from Latin&nbsp;opportunitas, meaning "fitness" or "convenience".&nbsp;Opportunitas&nbsp;is from the adjective&nbsp;opportunas&nbsp;("fit" or "favorable"), w [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">When the word <em>opportunity</em> was first borrowed into the English language in 1387, it was spelled&nbsp;<em>oportunite</em>, and other forms around the time included&nbsp;<em>oportunyte, oportewnyte, oportunyty, oppertunitie</em>, and more. The noun was taken from Old French, where it also showed up as&nbsp;<em>oportunite</em>. That was borrowed in the thirteenth century from Latin&nbsp;<em>opportunitas</em>, meaning "fitness" or "convenience".&nbsp;<em>Opportunitas</em>&nbsp;is from the adjective&nbsp;<em>opportunas</em>&nbsp;("fit" or "favorable"), which derived from the phrase <em>ob portum veniens</em>, meaning "coming toward a port". The idea was that a wind blowing toward a harbor was favorable or convenient for ships trying to get to the shore. You might know&nbsp;<em>ob-</em>&nbsp;from words like&nbsp;<em>obscene, oppress</em>, and&nbsp;<em>obstruct</em>: it comes from Proto-Indo-European&nbsp;<em>opi</em>, meaning "against".&nbsp;Finally,<em> p</em><em>ortus</em>, the nominative of&nbsp;<em>portum</em>, comes from PIE&nbsp;<em>prtu</em>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<em>veniens</em>&nbsp;traces to PIE&nbsp;<em>gwa</em>, "to go".<br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[PERSIAN APPLE]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/persian-apple]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/persian-apple#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/persian-apple</guid><description><![CDATA[The noun&nbsp;peach&nbsp;was borrowed into the English language around the turn of the fifteenth century. At the time, it was mostly spelled&nbsp;peche&nbsp;or&nbsp;peoche, and the current&nbsp;spelling only became the norm around the 1600s (also when&nbsp;peachy&nbsp;as an adjective first started popping up, although it only meant "excellent from 1900 onwards). The word comes from Old French&nbsp;pesche, which was borrowed straight out of Medieval Latin&nbsp;pesca. In classical Latin,&nbsp;pesc [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">The noun&nbsp;<em>peach</em>&nbsp;was borrowed into the English language around the turn of the fifteenth century. At the time, it was mostly spelled&nbsp;<em>peche</em>&nbsp;or&nbsp;<em>peoche</em>, and the current&nbsp;spelling only became the norm around the 1600s (also when&nbsp;<em>peachy</em>&nbsp;as an adjective first started popping up, although it only meant "excellent from 1900 onwards). The word comes from Old French&nbsp;<em>pesche</em>, which was borrowed straight out of Medieval Latin&nbsp;<em>pesca</em>. In classical Latin,&nbsp;<em>pesca</em>&nbsp;was&nbsp;<em>persica</em>, a term that still survives in the scientific name of the "peach". That was a shortening of Latin&nbsp;<em>malum Persicum</em>, meaning "Persian apple". That's a translation of Ancient Greek&nbsp;<em>malon persikon</em>, with the same meaning. I've explored <em>malon</em>&nbsp;before - it's also the source of the words&nbsp;<a href="https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/apple-honey" target="_blank">melon and marmalade</a>&nbsp;- and&nbsp;<em>persikon&nbsp;</em>is from the name of the country,&nbsp;<em>Persis</em>. Finally, <em>Persis</em> has an uncertain etymology, but might either be from an ancient warrior tribe called&nbsp;<em>Pars</em>&nbsp;or from Sanskrit&nbsp;<em>parasu</em>, meaning "hatchet" or "axe".</div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[PEAK MOISTURE]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/peak-moisture]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/peak-moisture#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Wed, 30 Jun 2021 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.etymologynerd.com/blog/peak-moisture</guid><description><![CDATA[We don't say this much today, but the word&nbsp;dew&nbsp;has been around for a while as a euphemism for booze. As far back as the sixteenth century, people were using&nbsp;Bacchus dewe&nbsp;to refer to wine and chemistry textbooks were using&nbsp;Dew of Vitriol&nbsp;for alcohol. In the nineteenth century, it became a thing to make moonshine in the Appalachian back-country, and they called this&nbsp;mountain dew.&nbsp;Fast forward to the 1930s, when brothers Ally and Barney Harman set up a distil [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph">We don't say this much today, but the word&nbsp;<em>dew</em>&nbsp;has been around for a while as a euphemism for booze. As far back as the sixteenth century, people were using&nbsp;<em>Bacchus dewe</em>&nbsp;to refer to wine and chemistry textbooks were using&nbsp;<em>Dew of Vitriol</em>&nbsp;for alcohol. In the nineteenth century, it became a thing to make moonshine in the Appalachian back-country, and they called this&nbsp;<em>mountain dew.</em>&nbsp;Fast forward to the 1930s, when brothers Ally and Barney Harman set up a distillery in Knoxville, Tennessee. They had just moved from Georgia and nobody was selling their favorite mixer, so they got creative with the ingredients they had. Eventually, they settled on a combination of carbonated lemon-lime juice and liquor that they called&nbsp;<em>mountain dew</em>&nbsp;from that slang term for moonshine. Sensing the potential, they made a non-alcohol version, which was picked up by PepsiCo and rebranded into the beverage we know today.<br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item></channel></rss>