Kel's previous Ozwords of the day...

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Baller If you knew someone who was very successful, and doing very well, would you call them a ‘baller’? No, neither would I. But apparently some people do. It is one of those expressions that show you are up to date with the latest bits of slang from the kids. (Although why anyone thinks this matters, is beyond me.) I did read one journalist talking about someone who has just done well and calling him a ‘baller.’ (It might even have been my friend Joe Hilderbrand writing about Donald Trump. I’m not sure.) But the language of the younger generations (Gen Z or Gen X or Gen Whatever) is impoverished and unimportant—so why should we copy them? Although I should add that ‘baller’ is starting to turn up in the dictionaries. In the Cambridge Dictionary they offer this definition of a ‘baller’— ‘a successful person, especially one who is rich, lives well and buys expensive things.’ And the Urban Dictionary offers this explanation: ‘Someone who started out from the bottom with nothing and have now made to the top.’ (So this can’t apply to Donald Trump whose father was a property developer—so he certainly never started from the bottom with nothing!) They add that the expression (as far as they can tell) was coined in or around 2015 (so very recent—and am I alone in hoping it dies out very soon?) But why this word? Why did the infantile minds if these various ‘Gens’ decide to use ‘baller’ as a term of praise? The word ‘baller’ is recorded in English from around 1586. It originally meant ‘a player of a ball game’ (Oxford English Dictionary). Then in America this was taken to especially apply to basketball—with its highly paid, superstar players. It seems to be that from that ‘baller’ became part of Black American slang. Used in this way (from around 1990) ‘baller’ was used to mean: ‘a person, who spends money freely and ostentatiously.’ And I suppose it’s a small step from a big spender to a big success? At least, that’s the journey the word seems to have made. Mind you, the Oxford adds that this slang use of ‘baller’ (meaning big spender) originally applied especially to drug dealers. So perhaps the expression ‘baller’ is less flattering than the little people of Gen Z or Gen X thought it was? Well, we shouldn’t tell them—it will only disturb their small minds.

Vocal frying A 2GB talkback caller asked me about the expression ‘vocal frying.’ I had never come across it before, so I had to do some research. It turns out that ‘vocal fry’ has been recorded in English since 1955 and it began life as a technical word in linguistics and phonetics. It refers to a certain sound that it’s possible to make with your vocal chords. The expression ‘vocal fry’ means: ‘a rough or creaky quality in very low-pitched speech or utterance’ (Oxford English Dictionary). If you open your mouth and say a very long, drawn out ‘aahh’ sound in as low, as deep, a tone as you possibly can, while releasing as little breath as you possibly can, I suspect you will be able to hear ‘vocal fry’ – with each little pop of the vocal chords sounding separately. I can do that exercise, and it works for me, so give it a try. It was originally named ‘vocal frying’ because it was thought to resembling the crackling of bacon in a frying pan. And when the expression began it was regarded as a speech defect that a speech therapist need to correct (by teaching people to release enough air as they spoke). Apparently, with people suffering from this, if often occurred on the last word in a sentence—especially if it was a drawn-out word with a long vowel. Interesting, I suppose, but why would anyone ask about this? Because it has now become trendy, and people are doing this deliberately! According to what I could find on the Web, ‘vocal fry’ has seen a rise in popularity, particularly among young women in the early 21st century. Well, at least in America, it has. The late 2000s marked a notable increase in ‘vocal fry’ usage, largely driven by celebrities who deliberately did this with their vocal chords.. Pop stars such as Katy Perry (I am told) frequently use it in their music or casual speech. Celebrities from various fields, including Britney Spears and Kim Kardashian, have made it a recognizable trait of their communication style. Research indicates that vocal fry significantly changes how people perceive the speaker. Listeners generally prefer a normal vocal register over ‘vocal fry’, associating the latter with lower trustworthiness and competence. This negative perception is more pronounced in female voices, where it can be linked to incompetence and lack of education. So, why on earth would they deliberately do this! Did I mention that it is common in America? Enough said.

Woke (again!) In my capacity as the word wizard I’ve been asked to explain the word ‘Woke’ time and time again. I’ve tried—explaining the history and development of the word, and how it’s being understood today. But people remain puzzled, and keep asking me to tell them more. Well, I think I’ve finally solved the problem of why I’ve found it so hard to explain fully up until now. First, the history. This word (originally the past participle of the verb ‘to wake’) means ‘fully alert; awake to the world around us; aware.’ Used in this way ‘Woke’ comes from Black American English. It’s first recorded in this way in 1891 The earliest citation is from Joel Chandler Harris (the man who gave us Uncle Remus, Br’er Rabbit and tar baby). Writing in 1891 in a story called ‘Balaam’s Ass’ he spoke of an unaware person by saying ‘He ain’t woke good yet.’ For the next sixty or seventy years it remained exclusively part of Black English in America. Then it was taken up by trendy Left wing white people— ‘politically correct’ people’— around the world. They now use ‘Woke’ of themselves to claim they see more than others, they are aware of more than others, and know more than others. The rest of us peasants are not ‘a wake up’ to what’s really going on, and that makes the ‘Woke’ the smartest people in the room. That’s why this word still troubles people, and I still get questions about it. ‘Woke’ now means ‘superior.’ The people who feel comfortable with the label ‘Woke’ are people who feel both an intellectual and moral superiority to those who disagree with them. To give you an example: when ‘Woke’ people defend the right of biological males to compete in women’s sport—they believe they have a better grasp than their opponents of the intellectual truth about the concept of ‘gender’ and they are disgusted by the what they see as the immorality of a trans-gender person (born male, now identifying as female) being denied the right to anything less than total acceptance in the world of women (including women’s sports, change rooms, toilets and so on). Anyone who disagrees with them is dismissed being blind to moral rights, to the basic human rights, of trans people. Such people, the ‘Woke’ believe, are morally and intellectually inferior. In other words ‘Woke’ now equals ‘snob’! That’s my new definition. The dominant form of snobbery, the most fashionable form of snobbery, is being ‘Woke.’ And the ‘Woke’ know and feel smug, and superior and quite comfortable with their snobbery. When Tanya Plibersek cancels a $100 million dollar gold mine, costing thousands of jobs and costing the New South Wales economy enormous benefits, she does so feeling smug and superior. The reason she gives is a primitive pagan mythological belief, but she knows better than the rest of us peasants and knows that she is right, and we are wrong. That the new snobbery. That’s being ‘Woke.’ So, does that help? Does that make the word any clearer for you?

Swatting Some members of Donald Trump’s transition team have been victims of ‘swatting.’ According to the New York Post: ‘President-elect Donald Trump’s incoming cabinet members and other political appointees have been targeted with bomb threats and swatting.’ Trump’s spokeswoman Karoline Leavitt said: ‘Last night and this morning, several of President Trump’s Cabinet nominees and Administration appointees were targeted in violent, unAmerican threats to their lives and those who live with them. These attacks ranged from bomb threats to swatting. In response, law enforcement and other authorities acted quickly to ensure the safety of those who were targeted.’ Bomb threats we understand, but what, exactly, is swatting? We are all familiar with the old verb ‘to swat’ meaning ‘To hit with a smart slap or a violent blow’ (Oxford English Dictionary). I would guess that what gets ‘swatted’ most often in our house are flies. Mind you, I’ve swatted a lot of spiders in my time. I was once shaving and turned around to see a large, black spider only inches away from my face on the bathroom wall. Well, being that close to Kel is suicide for spiders—he was swatted flat before he could call out, ‘Save me! I have a wife and little spiders at home! I don’t share my space with spiders—that’s what swatting is for. But despite the similarity of appearance, this new word ‘swatting’ is totally unrelated. Basically, it is the name given to certain types of false reports to the police. If you make a report about a serious on-going crime (a crime currently in progress) so that squads of police spring into action—your false report is called ‘swatting.’ The name comes from the heavily armed assault squads in police forces around the world called ‘SWAT’ units. Those letters stand for ‘Special Weapons and Tactics Squad.’ If memory serves correctly, there was once a popular cop on TV called SWAT (in fact, there may have been more than one). And now that squad title has been transferred to the sort of false report of a current, on-going situation that is so over-the-top and so dramatic that the whole of the SWAT team is scrambled to respond. That is ‘swatting.’ It is, in reality, just the old crime of making a false report and wasting police time—and attracts a serious penalty. Not a nice thing to do. But an interesting new word!

More WOTY The Oxford English Dictionary has announced ‘brain rot’ as its Word of the Year for 2024. ‘Brain rot’ defined as the deterioration of a person’s mental or intellectual state due to consuming too much trivial or challenging material. You might remember that ‘brain rot’ was one of the runners-up for the Macquarie Dictionary in their Word of the Year sprint. And I must add it is a worrying word—if spending your life glued to your smart phone consuming whatever it pumps out gives you ‘brain rot’ then there is a whole generation at mental risk! Some online dictionary sites base their choice for word of the year on the words that are looked up most by readers. That appears to be why Dictionary.com has chosen ‘demure’ as it’s Word of the Year 2024. When you and I look around us we might be surprised at this choice. The younger generations around don’t look very ‘demure’to us! But Dictionary.com insists the meaning of the word has changed. ‘Demure’ (they say) has historically been used to describe discrete and reserved behaviour, but (they say) ‘a new usage has spread through social media’—adding that the word’s recent associations with a person’s appearance and the way they act at work or in public places. (No, I don’t get it either. How is this different from the standard meaning? And why has it suddenly peaked?) The Cambridge Dictionary also based their choice on the words looked up on their site, and on that basis they chose ‘manifest.’Obviously this is an old and familiar word, so why is it popping up now? Here’s what the wiseacres at the Cambridge say: ‘When we choose the Cambridge Dictionary Word of the Year, we have three considerations: user data, zeitgeist, and language. Which word was looked up most, or spiked? Which one really captures what was happening in that year? And what is interesting about this word from a language point of view?’ On that basis they point out that things no longer appear—they now ‘manifest’ themselves. You don’t ‘get’ symptoms anymore, they now ‘manifest’themselves (perhaps as big spots on your arms and legs). And Collins Dictionary has named ‘brat’ as its Word of the Year for 2024. I’ve talked about this one before—how a bad word has been seized upon as a good attribute.  As I reported three weeks ago, there is real word ‘brat’that has been part of English since around 1513, which originally just meaning ‘a child.’ The great Dr Johnson in his monumental dictionary said it was a ‘contemptuous’ name for a child. And in more recent memory ‘brat’ has come to mean ‘a child who behaves badly.’ And then the Collins Dictionary adds that a ‘brat pack’ is ‘a group of young people especially actors or writers, who are popular or successful at the moment.’ It seems to people of my generation an odd word to use—how do you get from an annoying, irritating, badly behaved child to being popular or successful? The cognitive leap looks enormous.

Grubby little WOTY Australia’s Macquarie Dictionary has announced its official Word of the Year for 2024. And instead of mixing with the adults in the room, they decided to get down in the gutter and play with the childish minds. They have chosen, as their Word of the Year 2024: ‘ensh**tification.’ They define this as ‘the gradual deterioration of a service or product brought about by a reduction in the quality of service provided, especially of an online platform as a consequence of profit seeking.’ However, the reason I inserted asterisks and refused to publish the whole word is that adults don’t talk like this. We have a couple of very small grandsons, and we keep on eye (and an ear!) on their language. Because very small boys find it funny to say words they think are ‘rude words.’ The four-year-old thinks the word ‘poo’ is hilarious. I must assume that the Macquarie Dictionary thinks the same. Because they are down there with the four-year-olds trying to make themselves feel big and bold by using scatological language. You might remember we were invited to vote for the ‘People’s Choice’ award by the Macquarie and they claim that the people who voted agreed with them. Well… if they say so. But I am confident that no mature, adult, real grown-ups voted for their scatological choice. I work in journalistic environments, where people speak in plain, blunt outspoken terms—but I don’t hear words like this. So I can’t imagine just who the Macquarie imagines are giggling behind their hands at this word and applauding their choice. One thing I am certain of—this is the sort of childish slang which will have vanished in a few years. They add that ‘brainrot’ (the one I voted for!) was just nudged out of winning the People’s Choice title. Other runners-up in the judge’s rulings included ‘right to disconnect’ (which has actually been in the news, and which real people have been using) and ‘rawdogging’ (being unprepared). Yes, I know the whole Word of the Year thing is just a game and it doesn’t really mean anything. But it’s usually a game played by adults. Sadly, the adults seem to have left the room at the Macquarie.

Mansplaining Sometimes a worthwhile social movement is set up with the aim of achieving a notable and noble goal. But what happens if and when that goal is achieved? What should an organisation do if the goal it aimed it is won? Well, the sensible thing would be to disband. They could slap each other on the back and say, ‘job well done’ and move on. But does that happen? No, it does not. Since the organisation is established, has a membership, and leaders, they just can’t let go. So they stay together and switch goals. It’s happened to the labour movement—which was set up to help the working class. Through its union arm and its political arm the labour movement achieved its goals: a liveable minimum wage and a social security safety net (and much more). But instead of disbanding when all the key targets had been hit the Labor Party switched to doing something quite different (such as supporting inner city living, latte drinking, trendies manipulate society). But even worse is the feminist movement. Back in the 1950s a married woman could not get a bank loan without her husband’s signature, and the federal public service refused to employ married women. These (and many other) anti-women discriminations have long since gone. The feminist movement long ago achieved the goals for which it was set up. But instead of abandoning the movement and just getting on with life as equals—they changed their goals and kept going. The new goals of the new feminists are driven by hatred—pure hatred. They hate masculinity and they hate all men. This comes out in the language they now use, such as ‘toxic masculinity’ (which means all men are evil just because they are men) and this word— ‘mansplaining.’ The Oxford records ‘mansplaining’ from 2008, and says the word means a man explaining something ‘needlessly, overbearingly, or condescendingly, esp. (typically when addressing a woman) in a manner thought to reveal a patronizing or chauvinistic attitude.’ This is yet another hatred-filled attempt to dismiss and belittle 50% of the population of the world. Feminism is now a force for evil in our world. To which I would add that so-called ‘mansplaining’ is necessary when we are talking to someone who is stupid! (I have small grandsons, and I worry about the world they are growing up in.) 

Mean with money American comedian Jack Benny (1894-1974) always played the role of being very mean with money. In one famous sketch he was confronted by a mugger with a gun who said, ‘Your money or your life!’ Benny did his famous staring out into space look. So the mugger repeated, ‘I said—your money or your life!’ To which Benny snapped back, ‘I’m thinking! I’m thinking!’ We have a number of expressions to label someone who’s mean with money. Such as…

Cheapskate—recorded from 1894 (the year of Jack Benny’s birth!). Michael Quinion says: When the word ‘skate’ appeared in American slang it had several meanings: a worn-out horse, a mean or contemptible person, and a second-rate sportsman. Skate was originally a Scots contemptuous word, still known in a weakened sense in Australia and New Zealand, where it’s usually written as skite. Cheap was added early on to refer to a person’s tight-fisted nature.

Skinflint—is earlier (around 1699). The Oxford says from the beginning it meant: ‘A person who would ‘skin a flint’ to save or gain a thing, esp. money; a mean or avaricious person; a miser.’ In the 1700s it was the name of a comic character (‘Gabriel Skinflint’) who had these characteristics.

Tightwad—this one is American (from around 1900) and pictures a miserly person; one who keeps his wad of paper money tightly rolled. 

Cheeseparing—is another (less common) expression for being mean about money. This has been used since 1834 to mean ‘The action of saving money by making numerous small cuts or adjustments; rigorous economizing, esp. of a mean or parsimonious kind’ (Oxford English Dictionary). It is a figurative expression, coming from the action of real ‘cheeseparing’—namely paring (or shaving) thin slices from a block of cheese. This turns up from 1573. Later (from around 1800) it could be used to mean something likened to a cheeseparing in being small, thin, or meagre (this meaning, says the Oxford) is now ‘rare.’ Which brings us to our cheapskate parsimonious meaning, appearing from about 1834.

There are many more expressions, such as the Aussie one about the bloke has ‘deep pockets and short arms.’ I’m sure you know of others.

Crossword People will sometimes assume that because I’m word fanatic I will be good at crossword puzzles. It doesn’t necessarily follow. Puzzle solving, and tracing the history and use of words are two different skills. In fact, my wife is better at crossword puzzles than I am. I mention this because on the 2nd of November this year (just over two weeks ago) it was the centenary of first crossword puzzle being published in a British national newspaper. The paper was the Sunday Express—but they didn’t invent the crossword puzzle. That was done earlier, in 1913, in America by Arthur Wynne for the New York World. (The newspaper, by the way, after which the baseball ‘World Series’ is named—the newspaper was the first sponsor of the series.) You know what it is, but here is the definition from the Oxford English Dictionary… actually, before you read it, try to work out how you would describe a crossword puzzle in a single sentence. Close your eyes and have a go. How did you do? It’s not all that easy, is it? Well, here's how the Oxford does it: ‘A puzzle in which a pattern of chequered squares has to be filled in from numbered clues with words which are written usually horizontally and vertically, occasionally diagonally.’ Did you do better? Or are you prepared to tip your hat to the clever folk at the Oxford? What is difficult to realise from this distance in time, is what a massive mania arose around crossword puzzles when they first appeared. In April 1924 The Cross Word Puzzle book was published—and sold 350,000 copies in its first year. Yes, in those days there weren’t just crosswords—there was an off-the-charts crosswords craze! In its 1 July issue of 1924 Punch declared that the ‘dominant feature of British social life for the previous six months had been the Cross-word puzzle.’ So far I haven’t succeeded in finding an Australian newspaper that published a crossword puzzle before about 1930 (perhaps they were here earlier, but I if so I haven’t tracked them down). As for the name—Wynn Wheldon (writing in that delightful magazine The Oldie) says the name is the result of a printer’s error. The inventor, Arthur Wynne, had called his puzzle a ‘word-cross’ (since the words crossed over each other in the grid), and (somehow) in the typesetting room the two words were reversed, and it became the ‘cross-word.’ Which is what it has been ever since.

Colesworth The clever lexicographers at the Australian National Dictionary Centre have chosen ‘Colesworth’ as its Word of the Year 2024. They write: ‘Colesworth is a portmanteau – or blended word - used in reference to the perceived duopoly of Australia’s largest supermarket retailers, Coles and Woolworths.’ And they chose it, they say, because of widespread dissatisfaction with the cost of groceries and reports of questionable pricing policies at Australia’s largest supermarkets. According to Senior Researcher at the National Dictionary Centre, the always helpful Mark Gwynn, it is used (these days) in mostly negative contexts to highlight the power and market share the two businesses hold in Australia. Mark said although Colesworth had been around for several years, its usage only recently spiked as ordinary Australians vented their frustration at the increasing prices of food staples. However, I have a suggestion as to where the word ‘Colesworth’ originally came from. My memory is that it was coined by the brilliant Ross Campbell—a Sydney journalist and humourist ((1910-1982). Jacqueline Kent has written up his life for the Australian National Dictionary. She writes: ‘For more than twenty years, Campbell wrote 450-word articles about family life for the Daily Telegraph, Sunday Telegraph and Australian Women’s Weekly. Set in his Sydney home, `Oxalis Cottage’, `a suburban house of 15 squares, including myself’, they featured his children under the pseudonyms of `Theodora’, `Lancelot’, `Little Nell’ and `Baby Pip’. Many of these pieces—dealing with such subjects as television programs, children’s expressions, advertisements—are gems of humour and social history. His originality lay in his persona of the bemused mid-century suburbanite.’ I’ve quoted Jackie at some length because it is such a good summary of the brilliance of Ross Campbell. Years ago I visited Ross Campbell at ‘Oxalis Cottage’ when his autobiography was published—An Urge to Laugh (1981). During his lifetime his columns were collected in books called Daddy, Are You Married? (1962) and Mummy, Who is Your Husband? (1964). In 2005 a new collection of his columns (put together by his family) came out called My Life as a Father. Sadly the brilliance of this classical scholar turned journalist has been rather forgotten these days. But not by me! My memory is that the word ‘Colesworth’ first appeared in Ross’s humorous columns about family life in the 1960s. Its invention came about because he wanted to record family trips to the supermarket without identifying either of the big chains—so he combined them into this portmanteau word. So, 42 years after his death Ross Campbell has finally become a ‘Word of the Year.’ Well, done!

Bodgie and Widgie When I was a small boy (a very small boy!) there were some teenagers called ‘bodgies’ and ‘widgies.’ Both probably wore leather jackets and jeans, and the boys had hair filled with Brylcream—artfully combed. Now Denise has asked where those words ‘bodgie’ and ‘widgie’ come from. The first thing that surprised me was how early that are— ‘bodgie’ is recorded by 1949. If you’d asked me I would have guessed the mid-1950s at the earliest. The word seems to come from the earlier word ‘bodge’ meaning ‘to make a mess of a job, to work clumsily or awkwardly.’ When use in this way ‘bodgie’ could also mean ‘inferior’ or ‘inauthentic’ or ‘fake’—and there was a suggestion that the word was applied to these teenagers on the grounds that they were ‘fake’ Americans—trying to imitate the Americans they had seen in the movies, and not doing so very well. Or, given the age of the word, they might have been copying (badly) the American servicemen who’d been in Australia during the Second World War. But the source word, as I said, comes from the notion that ‘bodging’ something by doing it badly. This, in turn, seems to be a corruption of the much earlier word ‘botch’. And that one is very old (14th century) with the meaning of a spoiled piece of work, or badly done piece of work. And that’s about all we know—except that ‘botch’ might (possibly) have originated in the tailoring trade as the word for a badly patched or clumsily repaired garment (a word to berate an apprentice with!) There was also, in the early 1950s a drink called ‘bodgie’s blood.’ This consisted of raspberry syrup, Coca Cola, and ice-cream. Of course, in those days the ‘bodgies’ and ‘widgies’ hung around in milk bars. (Do you remember milk bars?) ‘Bodgies blood’ sounds like a moderately revolting drink (although it is a bit similar to a soda and ice cream drink called a ‘spider’). As for the female of the species—the ‘widgie’—that word was form as a combination of ‘bodgie’ and ‘women.’ (That makes it a portmanteau word—we’ve talked about those before, if you remember.) ‘Widgie’ is recorded from only slightly later—1951. And my thanks to Denise for this journey into Australia’s linguistic past.

More WOTY part two Australia’s own Macquarie Dictionary has a short list of 16 words vying for the ‘People’s Choice’ award for the Word of the Year 2024. We looked at half of them yesterday, here’s the rest of the list—together with their explanations (and my comments in brackets):

Q-day a theoretical point in time at which quantum computers will become large-scale enough to enable the decryption of public key encryption algorithms (Does this really matter to anyone except nerds hunched over computers in the backroom eating donuts?) 

Rawdogging the act of undertaking a long-haul flight with no electronic entertainment, devices or reading material (Is anyone ever this silly? Or perhaps they’re relying on the in-flight entertainment? Good luck with that!) 

Rent bidding the practice of a prospective renter offering a real estate agent or landlord a higher price than that advertised in the hope that their rental application will be accepted over others. (Well, housing crisis—remember?)

Right to disconnect a law which grants employees the right to not work or be contacted about work during non-work hours. (At least this one has been in the news—which is more than I can say for most of the others on this list!) 

Sigma a person who is well regarded as being exceptional in some way, especially a male. adjective 2. attractive; excellent: sigma wheels. Modelled on ‘alpha male’, with ‘sigma’ used to represent someone with attributes similar to the alpha male but who presents their attributes in a different way. (‘Alpha’ is the first letter in the Greek alphabet, Sigma is the 18th—out of 24. Why randomly pick the 18th letter? Weird.)

Skibidi interjection—a nonsense word used to mean any of various things depending on context, but often ‘cool’ or ‘excellent’. (I remember Fatima Payman using this word in the senate in order, I presume, to try to sound cool. But it’s a nonsense word! So why bother with it? You might as well say ‘brillig’ or ‘slithy tove’!) 

Social battery supposed energy reserve someone has for engaging in social interactions (This is what? Powering up when other people are around?)

Spoon bowl a match between the two lowest teams in a competition to determine which finishes the season at the bottom of the table. (It the Americanness that annoys me. The yanks have their Rose Bowl and their Super Bowl—but that’s not how Aussies talk about big sporting contests!)

There you are—all 16 words on the short list. Are you impressed? Or do most of them look to you like the kind of trendy words that have the life span of a fruit fly? If you’d like to cast a vote, here’s the link:  Vote now for the Macquarie Dictionary Word of the Year 2024 

More WOTY I warned you a little while ago that we’re coming into the ‘Word of the Year’ time again—when one dictionary after another will tell us their choice for the Word of the Year 2024. Australia’s own Macquarie Dictionary does things a little differently. They want to know your choice for Word of the Year. They have published their shortlist of possible words, and are asking you to vote for your choice. Here’s their list—together with their explanations (and my comments in brackets):

Brain-rot 1. content, especially as viewed on a social media platform and for an extended duration, which is considered to be of low quality in terms of intellectual stimulation. 2. the supposed diminished mental capacity caused by the consumption of such content. (I quite like this, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it were to be the winner. We can see those people glued to their phones, ignoring the world, and losing IQ points with every passing minute.)

Enshittification the gradual deterioration of a service or product brought about by a reduction in the quality of service provided, especially of an online platform. (Sorry, this is just too vulgar for me. Do we really need words like this?)

Fairy porn a subgenre of fantasy fiction which explores relationships between humans and supernatural characters, especially characterised by explicit depiction of sexual relationships. (Really? This exists?)

Incidentaloma a tumour which is unexpectedly discovered while undergoing a physical examination, medical imaging or surgery for an unrelated medical investigation or procedure. (A real phenomenon I’m sure—but a clumsily constructed word). 

Kup murri 1. an earth oven for pit cooking in the traditional Torres Strait Islander style. 2. food prepared in this manner. 3. a feast at which such food is served. (Yeah, sure, the sort of word used almost every day in Aussie homes!)

Looksmaxxing the act of improving one's physical attractiveness as much as possible, especially as undertaken by young men. (This is such an ordinary idea I’d be more impressed by ‘looksminimising’!)

Overtourism a situation in which too many people are visiting a tourist destination, causing damage and degradation, and adversely affecting the lifestyle of local residents as well as their own experience as tourists. (Do we need a word for this?)

Pig butchering a type of fraud in which a scammer portrays themselves as a friend, romantic interest, financial adviser, etc., in order to gain the trust of their victim and convince them to invest money, the scammer disappearing with the funds once the victim’s resources have been drained. (I was wondering how the poor pig got involved in this, but apparently it has to do with fattening a pig before killing and roasting it.)

It's a long list, isn’t it? And we’re only halfway through! The rest tomorrow. In the meantime, if you’d like to see the rest and cast a vote, here’s the link:   Vote now for the Macquarie Dictionary Word of the Year 2024 

Loser’s consent A few years Nigel Farage told me that democracy runs on ‘loser’s consent.’ Without that, he said, society fractures. The expression ‘loser’s consent’ seems not to be in most of the major dictionaries yet—but surely it’s just a matter of time. There was a book called Loser’s Consent: Elections and Democratic Legitimacy published back 2005. And, by way of explanation, I should say that ‘loser’s consent’ can be withheld (and democracy damaged) in a number of different ways—not just by saying ‘I really won, I didn’t lose’ (which is the most obvious way). We saw Donald Trump withhold loser’s consent in 2020—and try to hinder the smooth transfer of power. The riots on January 6, 2021 were a noisy rejection of ‘loser’s consent.’ Shameful. But the 2016 behaviour of the Democrats was equally shameful—promoting the fictional ‘Russia collusion’ fraud; promoting the slogan ‘not my president’; Hillary Clinton claiming she had “really” won the 2016 election; hiding the Hunter Biden laptop; twice impeaching Trump and so on. All of those are failures to understand and practice ‘loser’s consent.’ And now the Democrats are once again—in some ways—struggling with ‘loser’s consent.’ Joe Biden is doing it well, supporting a smooth transfer of power. But the Democrat media have gone into meltdown because Trump is actually doing what he said he would do in his cabinet appointments. They are in tears and sneering abuse before any cabinet member has actually been appointed (that is, gone through the necessary senate hearings) or done anything. It’s as if they don’t understand democracy—they lost, the other bloke won, and he’s doing what he said he would do. When people with Democrat sympathies, working in government departments in Washington, try disrupt or slow down what Trump is trying to do that is an underhanded and disreputable form of withholding ‘loser’s consent.’ I remember our own Billy Snedden back in 1973 saying hadn’t lost the election—he has just come second! If our democracy, and our society, are to function well then even those people who think they are intellectually and morally superior have to give in and allow ‘loser’s consent’—admit that they just have to go along with the reality that their candidate has not won. It matters. And the phrase that captures that crucial part of democracy is: ‘loser’s consent.’

Cheddar It all started with ‘The Great Cheese Robbery’. This is the expression coined by Jaimie Oliver in a message to his 10.5 million followers on Instagram. He was alerting them to the fact that more than 22 tons of cheddar had been stolen from a London cheese specialist—Neal’s Yard Dairy. A fraudster turned up, posing as a wholesale distributor for a major French retailer—and went away with 950 wheels of cheddar—reported to be worth almost $590,000. (I had no idea cheese was worth so much!) Jaimie Oliver said this was ‘some of the best cheddar cheese in the world.’ The surprise is that there is market in France for cheddar cheese. When I think of French cheese I think of brie and camembert. And I was once told that the French like their cheese as runny as possible (‘the closer the cheese is to being liquid, the more the French like it’). And yet there’s a market for cheddar in France? Can’t all for Brit expats, surely? The point is that cheddar cheese is the very opposite of runny—specifically a type of hard cheese. But putting such puzzles to one side, the word ‘cheddar’ comes from the name of the name of a village near the Mendip hills in Somerset. Originally the name ‘cheddar’ was only applied to cheese from this particular village but (as the Oxford English Dictionary explains) has now broadened in meaning and covers many different varieties of ‘cheddar-style’ cheese across the world. I am told the cheddar sold in Australia is often soft rather than firm. Not runny, in the French style, but soft. As for myself, I prefer a nice, firm, aged, tasty, crumbly cheddar. (It makes the best toasted cheese sandwiches in the world!) But, back to the word. The village had the name ‘cheddar’ long before they invented this type of cow’s milk cheese. The placename Cheddar comes from the Old English word ceodor, meaning ‘deep dark cavity.’ And the relevance is that this part of Somerset, including the ‘cheddar’ district, is famous for its many caves and gorges. There’s a place called ‘Cheddar Gorge’ located on the edge of the village, which is said to be the largest gorge in the United Kingdom. Cheddar Gorge, including Cox’s Cave, Gough’s Cave and other attractions, has become a tourist destination, drawing about 500,000 visitors a year. That’s the history of the word: from the label for a ‘deep, dark gorge’ to the name of the village at the edge of the gorge, to the name of the cheese they developed (which is now made and consumed worldwide). Sadly, there is only one cheese producer left in the village. But now you know the source of the word, you can be grateful to the villagers every time you have a wonderful, melted, toasted cheese sandwich.

Piccaninny I remember when I was a small child that little toddlers could be called ‘piccaninnies’—which I think was used as a term of affection in those days. And when I questioned my parents about it they said it was the Aboriginal word for a small child. Well, it turns out to be far more complicated than that. For a start the Australian National Dictionary says that ‘piccaninny’ is now an ‘offensive’ term when applied to an Aboriginal child, or to any child. The word is first recorded in the official government publication the Sydney Gazette in 1817—so just 29 years after the First Fleet. The next complication is that ‘piccaninny’ turns out not to be an Aboriginal word at all. In fact, the Oxford English Dictionary says it is probably a borrowing from a Portuguese pidgin word. They say the source is probably the Portuguese word pequenino which meant ‘very small, tiny’ and was used (I would guess as a term of affection) for a small boy. This goes back as far as the 14th century (and in a slightly different form to the 13thcentury). So, how did it end up here as ‘piccaninny’? It seems it became common in the Caribbean (and possibly also in some early settlements in America) as a word for a small child. Probably picked up in those parts of the Caribbean which had been settled earlier by the Portuguese, and borrowed by the English language (which, as I keep saying, borrows words from every language it encounters). Once borrowed it became a common for any native child—especially a very young one. The word was used, in this sense, of Māori children in New Zealand. I suppose it is regarded as ‘offensive’ these days because it is now seen as belittling. Mind you, if I called the toddlers I know ‘piccaninnies’ I wouldn’t feel I was belittling them. But there you. I suppose we’d better steer clear of it from now on. One final note, though. The word was also used figuratively. That very faint, first flush of early light—the dim lighting of the eastern sky just before dawn, was once called ‘piccaninny dawn’ (recorded from 1934), or ‘piccaninny daylight’ (earlier, from 1866) or ‘piccaninny sun’ (from even earlier, 1846) or just ‘piccaninny light’ (from a bit later, 1953). At the other end of the day there was ‘piccaninny twilight’ (meaning the last glow of light). There was also ‘piccaninnyhood’ meaning ‘childhood’ used from around 1912. All of these are now listed as ‘offensive.’ Really? It’s offensive to use a Portuguese pidgin word to describe faint light? Well, I suppose if they say so…

Facepalm One of the small delights of the recent American presidential election campaign was listening to American commentators—because they don’t use the English language in quite the same way we do. And one of the expressions they used was ‘facepalm.’ They would say—when someone was expasperated, or even perhaps embarrassed, that ‘they must be facepalming over that...’ Not, I would think an expression we’d ever hear in Australia? (Mind you, if I have been missing this, and you have heard it, please let me know!) The Urban Dictionary says that ‘face palming’ is ‘The act of slapping your forehead with the palm of your hand in exasperation.’ The Cambridge says something similar: ‘the act of covering your face with your hand because you are embarrassed, annoyed, or disappointed about something.’ While the Oxford English Dictionary tackles the word with its usual precision: ‘An act or instance of bringing the palm of one’s hand to one’s face, typically as an ostentatious and dramatic gesture of dismay, exasperation, embarrassment, etc.’ The Oxford also gives us a date for the expression, telling us it’s first recorded from 1996—and then gives us a related expression, the verb ‘to headdesk.’ This is ‘An act or instance of striking one’s head, often repeatedly, against a desk or table at which one is sitting, typically as an ostentatious or dramatic gesture of frustration, exasperation, dismay, etc.’ And ‘headdesk’ is a bit later, coming from 2002. Another newish one that turned up in the prattle of the American commentators was the word ‘benching.’ This, as far as I could gather, meant taking someone out of an active role in the election campaign. They were (according to these commentators) ‘benched.’ The Cambridge Dictionary says this use of the verb ‘to bench’ someone comes from sport. They write that ‘benching’ can mean: ‘to not allow someone to take part in a sports game or playground activity, as a punishment or because they are injured.’ According to the hyper-hip online Urban Dictionary ‘benching’ can (at least in America) also apply to romantic relationships: ‘Benching is when you start dating someone you think is nice and who has potential, but you're not crazy about them. You don’t know whether to keep dating them, or dump them and move on to the next one. This is where benching happens. Instead of going for either of the above polarized options, you put your date in your mental “maybe” folder and “bench them” so you date around to see what else is out there.’ So, there you are—a few Americanisms to catch up on!