Éclat - A Dazzling Definition

Dazzling brilliance. It's a metaphor. It's ... umm ... holding the sun. Very hot.
(photo by Yuval Y)

ÉCLAT

Noun & verb. Late 17th century.

A1 noun. Radiance, dazzling effect (now only figurative); brilliant display. L17

A2 noun. Ostentation, publicity; public exposure, scandal; a sensation. L17-L19

A3 noun. Social distinction; celebrity, renown. M18

A4 noun. Conspicuous success: universal acclamation.

Chiefly in with éclat, with great éclat, etc. M18

B verb trans & instrans. Make or become known or notorious. rare. M18

Today I got my first set of exam results in university. I thought that if I did the word éclat, then one of my lecturers might use the word in my feedback notes. Because ... y'know ... the universe works like that, doesn't it? Think positively and all that. But no. It doesn't. I got my exam results. Not one of my papers had the word éclat on it. Nuts.

Do please leave your most radiant comments in the box below.

Éclaircissement - As Clear as French

A cube. With a question mark on it. To represent confusion.
(photo by Jared Cherup)

ÉCLAIRCISSEMENT

Noun. Plural pronounced same. Mid-17th century.

[French, from éclairciss- lengthened stem of éclaircir clear up.]

A clarification of what is obscure or misunderstood;

an explanation.

Anyone who uses the word éclaircissement to clear up a misunderstanding clearly has no interest in clearing up a misunderstanding.

And wants to look clever.

And will look like a div.

Do please leave your most clarion comments in the box below.
(you can hear the pronunciation of éclaircissement by clicking here)

Éclair - Why Is It Named After Lightning?

Chocolate-filled éclairs - because clearly they weren't already sweet enough
(photo by LMDCWIKI)

ÉCLAIR

Noun. Mid-19th century.

[French, literally 'lightning'.]

A small finger-shaped cake of choux pastry,

filled with cream and iced, especially with a chocolate icing.

OK. I'm just throwing this one out there, because lo and behold sometimes Lexicolatry doesn't have all the answers: éclair literally means 'lightning' in French, and I want to know why. There are a couple of rather unconvincing theories out there - one is that they're so delicious, they get eaten lightning quick (pff!), and the other that the gleam off the top of the icing sometimes resembles lightning (double pff pastry!). The OED is frustratingly silent on this matter, so it's possible we will never know. Therefore, let us speculate, theorise and conjecturise as to why this humble, ridiculously delicious cake (which is a member of the 'pie family', would you believe?) is named after this meteorological phenomenon.

Do please copy and pastry your sweetest comments in the choux box below.

Ecdysiast - A Stripper By Any Other Name

Business at The Legless Stripper has never been better
(photo by Duncan C)

ECDYSIAST

A striptease artist.

You know that awkward situation when you're talking to someone that takes their clothes off for a living, but you're not sure of the politically correct term for their line of work? Stripper? Exotic dancer? Burlesque performer? Well, let Lexicolatry peel away that social discomfort, because the proper term for such a person is an ecdysiast, and the art or occupation in general is ecdysiasm.

The word is derived from the Greek ekduein (to put off, shed), and follows the pattern of the English words enthusiast and the similarly derived ecdysis, defined as the 'action or process of shedding an outer skin or integument, as in insects, reptiles, etc.' However, it might be better not to think about this etymological entomological herpetological connection because ... well ... call me old fashioned, but the thought of snakes, insects and dead skin suddenly makes ecdysiasm sound just a little bit ick.

A snake doing its ecdysis.
(photo by Jen Goelinitz)

 Do please strip down your most neon comments in the box below. 

Reflections on the Letter D

Only 22 Letters to Go!

Delumptious deloping Delilahs! If I haven't only gone and finished D! And it's been quite an eventful run too - somewhere in between my compulsive dictionary reading, I've managed to have a son and complete my first year in university. Of course, regular Lexi readers will know that I did take a break halfway through D - and I'd like to thank everyone for their patience as I did this. I did wonder if coming back after what ended up being a five month hiatus would mean I had no readers left, but no! Gladly, and thankfully, lots of you think that good words are worth the wait, and my daily hits quickly bounced back to their pre-break numbers! 

As for D itself, it did throw up some new and interesting words for me. Some of my favourites were delope (to deliberately miss a shot in a duel), deipnosophist (a person skilled in the art of dinner conversation) and the various and fascinating forms of deja vu. There was also a plethora of familiar but equally interesting words with curious histories and etymologies: daisy (from the Old English for 'day's eye'), drongo (it was a spectacularly naff racehorse) and doolally (an Indian town) were perhaps my favourite examples of these.

So, onward we march into the edifying edifices of E! And as we go, I would like to make a few changes to Lexicolatry, and would very much welcome feedback as I do. Firstly, I am planning to dispense with the long dictionary definitions at the start of every post - for words with short definitions (like, say, dasypygal - 'having a hairy buttocks'), I'll keep them, but for words with extensively long definitions or a myriad of meanings (like dog), I will simply explain the various meanings in text, and link to a dictionary if someone would like to read the full definition.

There are a couple of reasons for this - firstly, it takes me an awful long time to write out the long definitions. Very often, I'm really excited about a particular word, and just want to dive straight in and write! But I can't because I have to sit and tediously write out (and format) the definition. It's a bit like having an urge to just plunge into a swimming pool, but having to construct the diving board first (how's that for a contrived simile?). And, to be honest, I'm not sure how many people pore over the definitions I write anyway. So let's give this a try - posts will be more article based, and therefore quicker for me to write. But please, please give me some feedback on this - either in the comments or privately. I really do appreciate your input.

So thank you all again for your continued readership ... I look forward greatly to see you all through E!

Eddie

Email: eddie.lexi@gmail.com

Twitter: @lexicolatry

Dysphemism - The Euphemism's Evil Cousin

Cigarettes: also known as cancer sticks, lung darts and coffin nails
(photo by Geierunited)

DYSPHEMISM

Noun. Late 19th century.

[from DYS- bad, unfavourable, after euphemism.]

The substitution of a derogatory or unpleasant term for a pleasant or neutral one;

a term so used. Opposed to euphemism.

The dysphemism: the bolder, brasher, nastier cousin of the euphemism. Where the euphemism seeks to mollify, the dysphemism seeks to provoke; where the euphemism seeks to spare our sensibilities, the dysphemism seeks to crash right through them - offending, stoking, inciting and scandalising with every overblown, exaggerated, scandalous syllable it can muster. In short, if there were ever a phemism you would want to introduce to your parents, dysphemism wouldn't be it.

There are many reasons we choose to use dysphemisms, not least because they're highly effective at grabbing attention. Rather than calling her exercise book Run Overweight Woman Run, for example, author Ruth Field astutely utilised the power of dysphemism with Run Fat B!tch Run (for pure provocative punch, few words rival bitch); instead of calling welfare recipients welfare recipients, newspapers like The Daily Mail prefer terms like scroungers and spongers; and what paper would run with Mentally-ill Man With Knife when it can blast Knife-Wielding Maniac across its front page.

This is not to suggest, however, that the dysphemism is pure evil. After all, it carries the upfront and forthright honesty that its holier-than-thou cousin the euphemism could only ever dream of - who isn't sickened by the duplicity of terms like ethnic cleansing, voluntary repatriation or friendly fire? At least the dysphemism is clear in what it expresses. And we all use them, perhaps even more so than euphemisms - who hasn't called their neighbour's dog a mutt? Or their child a snotty-nosed brat? Or a lawyer a vulture? Or a doctor a quack? Or a certain newspaper a hate-filled mass of right-wing bum-fodder? Let he who is without dysphemism cast the first stone.

Do please leave your most phlegmatic comments in the waffle box below. 

What's a Dvandva?

Well it will be when he adds the soda ...
(photo by Can Mustafa Ozdemir)

DVANDVA

Noun. More fully dvandva compound. Mid-19th century. 

[Sanskrit dvandva from dva two.]

LINGUISTICS. A compound word containing two elements as if joined by and, as whiskey-soda.

A dvandva is a type of compound word, common in other languages, in which two nouns which could be connected by and are joined together. Examples include: player-manager, secretary-treasurer, father-daughter, mother-son and ... well ... I just can't think of any more. We just don't seem to have that many in English. I like the word, however, because it's pretty much unadulterated Sanskrit, has a nifty pronunciation (dvan-dvuh), and would be an absolute killer of a word to play in Scrabble. Who's gonna see that DV combination coming? No one! That's who! Other than that, it's pretty useless.

Do you know any other dvandvas?

Do please compound the situation by leaving your most conjoined comments in the conjugal box below.

The Origin of Dutch Courage (And Other Dutchy Expressions)

DUTCH

Adjective & noun.

[From Middle Dutch dutsch 'Dutch, Netherlandish, German': the English word originally denoted speakers of both High and Low German,

but became more specific after the United Provinces adopted the Low German of Holland as the national language on independence in 1579.]

1 adj. Relating to the Netherlands or its people or language. ME

2(a) noun. The language of the Netherlands, spoken by some 20 million people. E17

2(b) noun. (as plural noun the Dutch) The people of the Netherlands collectively. E17

The English and the Dutch have a fraught history - variously enemies, allies and competitors - a history that descended into outright war on numerous occasions during the 17th and 18th centuries. It's hardly surprising, then, that we have acquired quite a few Dutchcentric expressions in English, many of which are far from flattering.

Perhaps the two most well known are double Dutch, referring to incomprehensible gibberish, and Dutch courage, which is alcohol-induced bravery. There are a couple of theories regarding the origin of Dutch courage, the most basic being that it's a disparaging comment on the quality of Dutch soldiers who, unlike their plucky British counterparts, had to be inebriated to show any kind of valour on the battlefield. A second theory posits just the opposite, however, and suggests that it was the British troops that were in need of a snifter. The evidence for this is the Dutch origin of gin, specifically from the Dutch chemist Franciscus Sylvius, and thus downing a few shots of gin before battle became known as Dutch courage (and if you've ever read any accounts of naval battles in the 17th and 18th centuries, you'll know you'd need it). This association with gin might also explain the expression Dutch feast, which is an event at which the host gets drunk before his guests.

Quality Dutch hoes can be ordered over the internet

As well as the Dutch people's drinking habits and bravery, there has also been a long tradition of maligning their sexual proclivities: a Dutch cap, for example, is a contraceptive diaphragm, and a Dutch wife is a sex toy (or, as the OED discreetly terms it, 'an artificial sex partner'). Rather cruelly, a Dutch widow is a prostitute, although we can at least be thankful that a Dutch hoe is exactly that - a particular type of hoe. 

Finally, there is the expression to go Dutch. This refers to something in which every party pays their own way. It is accompanied by a number of related expressions: a Dutch lunch, a Dutch party, a Dutch dinner, etc. Basically, if you're invited to any of these, you'll be paying for yourself. While it would be easy to assume that the origin of these is similarly British (historically, after all, the Dutch did have a reputation for being miserly and shifty - a Dutch reckoning is an unexplained bill that arrives out of nowhere and only increases if challenged), to go Dutch is in fact of American origin, the OED listing the first reference to a Dutch treat in Lippincott's Monthly Magazine in 1887. Rather sportingly, too, it seems there wasn't any particular malice by the Americans - the Dutch simply had a reputation of paying their own way.

Attack on the Medway by Pieter van Soest shows a naval battle between British and Dutch forces in the 17th century

Are you Dutch?

Do you wish to respond to our history of linguistic sniping?

Do you know any other Dutchy expressions?

Do please clog up the comment section by leaving your cheesiest comments in the box below.

Duologue - Two's Company (Three's a Dialogue)

DUOLOGUE

Noun. Mid-18th century.

[from DUO- two, after monologue.]

A conversation between two people;

a dramatic piece with two actors.

Only geeky, nerdy, pedantic types will be interested in the distinction between a duologue and a dialogue (a monologue needs no explanation, surely), but seeing as I'm the geeky, nerdy, pedantic type, I've decided to cover it. Basically, a dialogue is a conversation between "two or more people or groups," whereas a duologue is a conversation between exactly two people. Of course, if you ever forget this and call a duologue a dialogue, only for some nerdy, geeky, pedantic type like me to correct you, you can save yourself by rightly pointing out that it is still a dialogue, as every duologue is by definition also a dialogue (though a dialogue isn't always necessarily a duologue).

Is that clear?

Do please monologue your most logomaniacal comments below.

Dunce - The Origin of that Stupid Cap

The Dunce
Harold Copping

DUNCE

Noun & verb. Early 16th century.

[from John Duns Scotus (c 1266-1308), scholastic theologian,
whose followers were a predominating scholastic sect until discredited by humanists and reformers in the 16th century.]

A1 noun. obsolete. An adherent of Duns Scotus, a Scotist;

a hair-splitter, a sophist. E16-E17

A2 noun. obsolete. A copy of the works of Duns Scotus;

a book embodying his teaching on theology or logic. M16-M17

A3 noun. obsolete. A dull book-learned pedant. L16-M18

A4 noun. A person who shows no capacity for learning;

a dullard, a blockhead. L16

B verb trans. Puzzle; make a dunce of. Now rare. L16

There's something markedly dispiriting about the word dunce. For starters, there's the idea that this man, John Duns Scotus, has had his entire life's work distilled down to a monosyllabic epithet meaning a dullard. Granted, he wasn't alive to see the shift in religious thinking during the Reformation that cast his teachings out of fashion, and during his lifetime he was a respected and widely-read thinker; still, it is remarkable that some 700 years after his death, his name is still primarily (if indirectly) known throughout the English speaking world as a byword for stupidity.

My sympathy for Duns' legacy, however, melts into insignificance when I consider the word's application to a generation of struggling school children, branded with this slur and made to sit in the corner in front of their peers just because they struggled with spelling or tables or the like. The horror of this humiliation is poignantly captured in Harold Copping's painting The Dunce which, while it does not portray the eponymous cap, does capture the abject dejection of the struggling student. I'm not one that would be particularly quick to tears, but if I look at this painting for too long, it does threaten to pull of a choke of sympathetic grief from my chest. What Duns himself would have thought of his name being so used I have no idea, but the fact that one of his central Christian teachings was that love is superior to knowledge makes me think he wouldn't have liked it one bit.

Are you a student of John Duns Scotus?

Did teachers use the dunce cap in your school?

Do please leave your most learned comments in the box below.

Dummerer - It's a Real Word, Dummy!

Nope. I haven't seen it either.

DUMMERER

Noun. Slang. Obsolete excluding Historical. Mid-16th century.

[from DUMB adjective.]

A beggar pretending to be dumb.

Adding an extra -er onto comparative words like bigger, greater, nicer, etc, is always good for a giggle. For example, on showing my daughter a shortcut to her school, she told me she knew a better shortcut, to which I drolly replied: "Well mine's even betterer!" I suppose you had to be there really. Anyway, this was also done for comic effect in the sequel to the classic comedy Dumb & Dumber, which they rather cleverly called Dumb & Dumberer. Still, if we allowed ourselves so much as an "Oh that's not a real word!" smirk, then the joke was on us, because dummerer is a real word. Yes indeed - it was the name given to beggars who pretended to be mute. The earliest use of this word was in Caueat for Commen Cursetors, a 1567 work which described dummerer as a "leud and most subtill people, the most part of these are Walch men." And while you might point out that the title of film is dumberer, and the real word is dummerer, it was spelt in the above work as Dommerer. Consistency of spelling, therefore, as so often in English, cannot be used as a valid argument in this case.

Do please leave your besterest comments in the box below.

Drongo - The Aussie Horse Who Always Came Last

Stone the crows if that ain't a face like a dropped pie!
(photo by Gunnar 'Probably Not Australian' Gunnarsson)

DRONGO

Noun. Plural drongos or drongoes. Mid-19th century.

[Madagascan name.]

1 Any of several black birds with long forked tails that belong to

 the passerine family Dicruridae and occur in Africa, southern Asia, and Australia. M19

2 A stupid, foolish, or incompetent person. Australia & New Zealand. slang. M20

For people of a certain age (my age), drongo will no doubt conjure up memories of the Australian soap Neighbours and its famously cerebral dialogue:

"Rack off, Ramsey, yer stupid flamin' drongo!"

If you've always admired the Australians for their bizarrely idiomatic epithets, you will be interested to know that drongo is actually a Madagascan name which acquired its negative connotation in the 1920s thanks to Drongo, the spectacularly inept Australian racehorse with a record of virtually always coming last. Thus, drongo entered into the Aussie vernacular, reaching our own shores just a few decades later by way of Australia's fine schedule of televisual programming. 

Are you a drongo?

Are you as stoked as I am about this Aussie insight?

Do please go off like a frog in a sock in the bonza box below, mate.

Drome - Running & Racing, Of Course

A Running Boy (1802) by Jens Juel
(because, apparently, this is how people ran in the 19th century)

-DROME

Suffix.

[Representative of Greek dromos course, running, avenue, related to dramein run.]

Forming nouns denoting:

(a) a place for running, a course, etc

(b) a thing that runs

There's nothing too spectacular about the suffix -drome, which makes rather predictable appearances in words like aerodrome and hippodrome (which, to my crushing disappointment as a child, is not a course for racing hippos). It does, however, pop up in a few odd and interesting places, including syndrome, from sun- (together) and dramein (to run), literally 'a running of symptoms together'. It's also the suffix in palindrome, a word like 'nun' which reads the same backwards and forwards, constructed from palin (again) and dramein (to run), so literally 'a running again'. And it's the prefix in dromomania, which is an irresistible urge to run, travel or wander.

A rather one-sided, under-supported race at the Jerash Hippodrome in Jordan
(photo by Bernard Gagnon)

Do you know any other interesting -drome words?

Are you a dromomaniac?

Do please leave your raciest comments in the box below.

Dressage - A Prissy Word for a Prissy Sport

Photo by Bob Haarmans

DRESSAGE

Noun. Mid-20th century.

[French, literally 'training', from dresser to train, drill.]

The training of a horse in obedience and deportment;

the execution by a horse of precise movements in response to its rider.

Here's a dose of ignorance for you - I have always considered dressage, with its topped and tailed riders and buff, stately horses, to be a rather prissy sport (and I struggle to call it a sport at all), well-matched with a similarly prissy word, dressage, with its pretentious French pronunciation and aura. What's more, I always assumed that dressage had something to do with dressing, so conspicuous are the finely outfitted riders and horses in their displays.

I was, however, utterly abject in my ignorance, and I do bow my head in deference to the thousands of dressuers (not a real word) who would be utterly aghast at my aspersions. Dressage, you see, and as the OED has taught me, has nothing to do with dresses or dressing, but rather originates from the French word dresser, meaning 'to train'. And that's of course what dressage is all about - training, obedience and (ahem) chevaline deportment.

And chevaline deportment, I can tell you, is nothing to sniff at. It starts with basic training (campagne), but will advance to the cream of the riding crop, the haute école. And with moves like the pirouette, the piaffe, the passage, the levade, the courvet and the capriole, it quickly becomes clear that there is nothing in the least bit prissy about dressage. No sir. Not on your Nelly.

If you've never had the pleasure of watching dressage, here's a video. Feel free to skip to the interesting bits.

Are you a fan of dressage?

Do please saddle us with your most blinkered comments below.

(alternatively, if you'd like an article from someone that actually knows something about dressage, this one is excellent)

Downing Street - The Most Famous Address in the World

The famous front door can only be opened from the inside, lest the PM lock himself out after a night out with the lads

DOWNING STREET

Noun phrase. Late 18th century.

[A street in London containing the official residence of the Prime Minister and the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, from Sir George Downing (c. 1624-84), English diplomat and owner of the site.]

The British Government;

the Prime Minister;

the Foreign and Commonwealth Office.

10 Downing Street, sometimes referred to as the most famous address in the world, is an example of a metonym, in which a word or name is substituted for something it is closely related to. Therefore, just as one might say 'The White House has issued a statement' to mean that the US government has issued a statement, one can also say 'Downing Street responded swiftly to the crisis' (it is also sometimes expressed simply as Number 10).

As unassuming as it looks from the outside, 10 Downing Street is a fascinatingly enigmatic building, and is considerably bigger than it looks (you can take a virtual tour of its most famous rooms by clicking here). Sir George Downing, who by all accounts was a miserly and thoroughly unpleasant man, acquired leases for the property in 1682, and set about pulling down the existing buildings in order to erect a cul-de-sac of terraced houses. Interested in maximum profits, the houses were shoddily constructed; Winston Churchill would later write that Number 10 was "Shaky and lightly built by the profiteering contractor whose name they bear."

Over the decades, however, Number 10 has been improved upon and renovated numerous times, sporadically serving as the Prime Minister's home since 1735 and continuously since 1902. However, even as late as 2006, surveys questioned whether or not the building was fit for purpose in its current state, with a leaky exterior, dodgy heating and regular power outages cited as major problems. Tony Blair therefore authorised a wide-ranging programme of improvements for the building, work on which continues to this very day.

Have you ever been to Number 10?

Do please leave your most parliamentary comments in the box below.

Double Entendres - Do They Have to Be Rude?

I don't know who came up with this, but I'm barely smirking ...

DOUBLE ENTENDRE

Noun phrase. Plural double entendres (pronounced same). Late 17th century.

[Obsolete French (now double entente) = double understanding.]

A double meaning;

an ambiguous expression;

a phrase with two meanings, one usually indecent.

Also, the use of such a meaning or phrase.

Double entendres are fun, but they're also pretty easy; my first notion when thinking about this post was just to write the entire thing in double entendres - "You want a double entendre? Well I'll give you one!" - y'know the sort of thing. The problem is, it wouldn't be original, and it really wouldn't be funny either. And while it's undeniable that a good, well-timed and well-chosen double entendre can be funny, very often they're rather witless, cheap and worthy of little more than a roll of the eyes.

But ... here's a novel concept ... double entendres don't have to be rude! In fact, it is my firm assertion that many of the very best double entendres aren't in the least bit bawdy, and these are of a higher calibre than their tit-and-bum counterparts because they're significantly more difficult to come up with. The US sitcom Frasier is particularly full of such witticisms - an example being when Niles meets the weird and creepy members of Frasier's fan club (all three of them), and remarks that meeting them makes him wish he had a club himself.

Political wit at its most laudatory

Other ones that tickled me include the Conservative campaign poster that declared "Labour Isn't Working." That was definitely a good one. And the Toronto Star headline: "Marijuana Issue Sent to a Joint Committee." Classic. And what about the controversial PETA ads? Y'know, where a nude model grins at the camera: "Want my body? Go vegetarian!" Well, maybe that one's a bit rude. And .. umm ... maybe my self-righteous quest to purify the double entendre is a bit of a lame duck. Maybe the rude ones are funnier. 

Well, OK, fair enough. But if the funniest double entendres are rude, then I make this final contention: the funniest ones are those that are unintentionally rude. Yes! That's it. And as evidence, I give you two of the finest examples of double entendres, made by the inimitable Jonathan Agnew, which are so funny that (for a moment) they even managed to to make cricket entertaining.

Enjoy!

Do please leave any comments in the box below.

Doryphore - A Pedantic Critic

Sir Harold Nicolson: word-maker-upperer extraordinaire 

DORYPHORE

Noun. Mid-20th century.

[French = Colorado beetle, from Greek doruphorus spear-carrier; coined by Sir Harold Nicolson.]

A self-righteously pedantic critic.

Doryphore was invented by writer and diplomat Sir Harold Nicolson in 1952, writing that he had "tried to supplement [his] vocabulary by inventing words, such as ‘couth’, or ‘doriphore’, or ‘hypoulic’, feeling that it is the duty as well as the pastime of a professional writer to make two words bloom where only one bloomed before." Later, he clarified the exact definition of his neologism:  "The doriphore ... is the type of questing prig, who derives intense satisfaction from pointing out the errors of others." I have nothing more to say on this word, except that I like it, I like it a lot, and I think it's a jolly good word.

Do please leave your most priggish comments in the critic's box below.

Doppelganger - Does Everyone Have a Ghostly Double?

Are you Sophie Robehmed's doppelganger? She wants to find you!

DOPPELGÄNGER

Noun. Also doppelganger. Mid-19th century.

[German, literally 'double-goer'.]

A supposed spectral likeness or double of a living person.

Historically, meeting your doppelganger has never been a good thing. Depending on which mythological tale you believe, meeting your spectral double has pretty much always been a portent of impending death. And that's not good. There are those, however, who are not just curious about meeting their ghostly double, but are actively engaged in a quest to do so.

One such doppelganger-hunter is Sophie Robehmed, who in 2011 started a campaign through social media to find hers, a search that attracted the attention of a number of major news outlets. It's easy to understand why her quest attracts such interest - the idea of a ghostly, malevolent or demonic version of oneself prowling the earth has been a staple of myth and legend for millennia, and remains to this day a recurring motif in horror movies. And, yes, the notion is decidedly unsettling.

Of course, maybe we shouldn't give too much heed to all the scary stories. Perhaps meeting your doppelganger would be an enriching (and markedly unsupernatural) experience, as it no doubt was for Neil Richardson and John Jemison, two men from the UK who you would swear were twins, had led bizarrely identical lives, but were completely unrelated (and neither of whom has died in mysterious circumstances since meeting). Nah! All this ghostly pish-posh is just waffle. With 7 billion of us swirling around the planet, some of are going to be creepily identical, right?

So, if you think you can help Sophie Robehmed in her rather cool mission to find her double, you can contact her by clicking here. And it'll be completely safe for all concerned to do so. Well ... I think it will ... umm ... although now that I think about it, how do I know that she's not the doppelganger, and this is just the forces of unearthly evil utilising social media to hunt their mortal prey? Wow. OK ... you decide ... I'm just saying that Lexicolatry bears no responsibility for omens of imminent death, bleeding walls, or other supernatural phenomena on account of doppelgangers. Phew.

Have you met your doppelganger?

Did you survive?

Do please leave your most duplicitous comments in the box below.

Doolally - Its Crazy Indian Origin

She's not a soldier, she's not Indian, but she's definitely doolally
(photo by Holly Clark)

DOOLALLY

Adjective. Slang (originally military). Early 20th century.

[Deolali, a town near Bombay.]

Originally (now less usual) doolally tap [Urdu from Persian tap fever].

Temporarily insane; deranged; feeble-minded, simple, foolish.

Many years ago, my mother did business with a certain Mr Lally who, seeing as he was a bit nuts, she was always nervous about calling Mr Doolally by mistake. The inevitable problem, of course, was that the more she fretted about what would be quite a profound negotiatory blunder, the more likely it was to become a self-fulfulling prophecy.

For those unfamiliar with this rather delightful Britishism, doolally means a bit nuts, crazy, bonkers, and so forth, and is accompanied by a fittingly  loopy etymology. Deolali is a town near Bombay, India, and it was a staging point for British colonial troops arriving to and leaving from the continent. As well as the military post, Deolali also housed a sanatorium, and it is said that soldiers barracked there (and particularly those who were waiting to absquatulate back to Blighty) would go a bit doolally tap - that is, a bit nuts.

You don't really hear doolally tap anymore, but to say that someone has gone a bit doolally is still well understood throughout Britain. I never found out if Mum did make her little bêtise, but considering that she was a bit doolally herself, I rather think (and hope) that she did.

Do please billet your loopiest comments in the barrack-box below.

Donkey - An Asinine Etymology

An exceptionally handsome donkey
(photo by Keoki Seu)

DONKEY

Noun. Late 18th century.

[Origin unknown; in early use pronounced to rhyme with monkey, whence the proposed derivations from DUN noun and the male personal name Duncan.]

1 Ass. noun. L18

2 A stupid or silly person. M19

3(a) In full, donkey engine.

A small auxiliary engine, especially on a ship. M19

3(b) In full, donkey pump. A small or auxiliary pump. M19

4 A simple card-game often played with special cards. E20

5 A low stool used by an artist at an easel. M20

Donkeys have been working with us for a very long time - at least 4,000 years, according to the Encyclopaedia Brittanica. Despite these thousands of years of faithful service, however, we don't treat donkeys that kindly, linguistically speaking. Donkey, for example, is a favourite insult for someone who is stupid, silly or inept, donkeydom is a noun for stupidity in general, and donkey-work is menial, hard and unattractive labour (but that which requires little intelligence to perform); there is also asinine, of course, a favourite of cultural snobs and naff teachers.

We do at least seem to respect their hardiness, however, as apparently being able to talk the hind legs off a donkey is quite a feat, and donkey's years is a very long time indeed (a well cared for donkey can live for 30-50 years, while the life-expectancy of the average working donkey is a much more modest 12-15 years). And, finally, it's worth pointing out that donkeys are exceptionally sure-footed, despite their association with ineptitude and clumsiness, which allows them to live and work in areas completely inaccessible to the much more respected horse.

Regarding the etymology of donkey, it's a little bit of a mystery - ass is much older, from Old English assus, itself derived from the Celtic and Welsh asyn. It's possible that donkey comes from the colour dun, a dull greyish-brown. Of particular note, however, is that donkey originally rhymed with monkey - I don't know why that tickles me, but it does, and I think it probably made you smile too.

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Who Was Don Juan?

DON JUAN

Noun. Mid-19th century.

[A legendary Spanish nobleman famous for his seductions.]

A man with a reputation for seducing women;

a rake;

a libertine.

The odd thing about Don Juan, a fictitious character from the 1630 tragic drama El Burlador de Sevilla, is that he was written as a cautionary character - despite being a man of exceptional talent and charisma, his life of dissolute immorality ultimately led to his eternal damnation (and he kind of deserved it too, murdering as you do the father of one of the girls he seduced, and than mocking an effigy of the poor chap at his tomb). However, pretty much all cautionary sense has been lost in its modern usage, as English elects to celebrate this bounding cad as only English can.

Are you a Don Juan?

What connotations does Don Juan have for you?

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