An object unearthed in my household investigations for dispossession: a woven wool rectangle, two-sided, showing a stylized blooming plant, and relatively small (10×19″, not counting its fringes) —
(#1) What I think of as the recto side
Archive for the ‘Categorization and Labeling’ Category
Words and things in the dining room
August 23, 2025
RESIST
July 7, 2025The message from my fellow QUESTer — another Queer University Employee At Stanford — Ryan Tamares, on a postcard mailed to me on 6/19, in the middle of Pride Month:
Happy Pride !
Pride always ! !
— RESIST —
The holiday moment has passed, but now we’re in a world where we have to actively resist, on a daily basis, against the brownshirts and blackshirts serving our overlords. And join with the drag queens and thrown-away club kids who, in one of our foundation tales, fought back against the cops who came to ruin their lives, and ours.
Stoop labor
July 6, 2025Earlier on this blog I’ve had occasion to celebrate the humane gravity of MSNBC commentator Jonathan Capehart, who happens to be both Black and gay. Now in JC talking about his 2025 book Yet Here I Am: Lessons From a Black Man’s Search for Home, an observation about the stoop labor historically done by Black folk in the American deep south (harvesting cotton, tobacco, and sugarcane):
“My cousin Rita and I are the first generation in our family to not have to pick cotton, and for people of a certain age, they will understand what that means,” Capehart said. “… It wasn’t until I was writing this book that I understood, when our parents were our age, they were working. They were working in the fields, picking cotton, picking tobacco. We did not have to do that.
So JC and his cousin Rita represent a shift in the fortunes of Black folk. Here’s JC informing us, explaining things, interviewing political and cultural figures, a figure of importance on national television — and a moving reporter on his own life history in that book. In what I see as the release of great abilities, drive, and insights that follow on opening up opportunity to everyone: excellent qualities that are in fact distributed widely across the population will flourish in new places (and since those who succeed first will have had to run through a lot of tough hoops, they will be seen to be especially talented).
Central Europe
September 21, 2024The term for a region of Europe that’s neither north (Scandinavian) nor south (Mediterranean), but, most significantly, neither west (France, the Low Countries, the British Isles) nor east (Russia plus at least some portion of its sphere of influence, especially in the old Russian Empire). In between lies territory historically under a shifting patchwork of rule, notably including: the Habsburg Empire and the Austro-Hungarian Empire that succeeded it; the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth; Bavaria; Prussia; and eventually a unified Germany.
After World War II the German nation was starkly divided into two: West Germany, allied with France and the UK (and the US); and East Germany, allied with the Soviet Union. Germany was central in Europe only in the sense that that’s where the dividing line between west and east fell.
Somewhere along the line, the region-term Central Europe came to be applied to Germany (plus more) as the hinge between regions called Western Europe and Eastern Europe (as well as between Northern Europe and Southern Europe); I don’t know the history of the term (so I hope someone has already studied it). But if you just look at a map of modern Europe and look only at national boundaries, there’s a huge territory between Germany and Russia, with a swath just to the east of Germany that looks like something that you could reasonably call Central Europe (and brings to mind the Habsburg Empire); without going south and east into the Balkan peninsula:
(A) Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Austria, Hungary, Slovenia
Then there’s a more eastern strip that would (with western Russia) count as Eastern Europe; without going north into the Baltic states, at least:
(B) Belarus, Ukraine, Moldova, Bulgaria
Meanwhile, at the other side of Germany, there’s Switzerland, with strong cultural and linguistic ties to both Germany and France (plus, to confound things further, shared boundaries with Austria and Italy).
I took up some of the nomenclature back in 2018, as an interested party (I am only two generations away from German-speaking Switzerland — canton Glarus in the northeast, to be specific). And then on 9/15, along came another interested party, Hana Filip (born in the Czech Republic — in Moravia in the east, to be specific). Both of us reacting to specific nomenclatural proposals.
A smashing time
September 9, 2024A smashing time: the Economist‘s punning teaser head on its article about demolition derbies in its 8/24/24 issue:
(#1) [Economist caption:] Art for art’s sake (photo: Getty Images)Frankfort, New York: Where crashing cars is the point
After the formalities are seen to — the national anthem sung, the firemen assembled—the fun starts. The sound brings the first thrill: a dozen engines thundering, each without a silencer, and the crackle-pop of backfire. Then comes the crash and crumple of metal on metal. Tyres go flat, bumpers fall off. Cars catch fire, others get pushed up against the wall. They head-butt like billy goats. They hiss, wheeze, smoke, stall and go kaput. Soon only two are still moving, at which point the announcer might growl: “Finish him!”
Tom Wolfe, a writer*, called demolition derbies “culturally the most important sport ever originated in the United States” — closer to the gladiatorial games of Rome than even boxing. Annihilation is the point. The last car running wins. Sports reporters ignored them, wrote Wolfe, because they thought them puerile and low-class: too many kids with “sideburns, tight Levi’s and winkle-picker boots”.
[* AZ: satirical chronicler of both the counterculture of the 1960s and the elite culture of New York City]
Terminology time
August 28, 2024Well, actually, concept time. First come the useful concepts, then come the terms for them. My comments are prompted by Martin Haspelmath on Facebook today, on the useful terms (due to Alexandre François) colexification and dislexification for the expression, in some language, of distinct concepts in a single lexical form or distinct lexical forms, respectively; with MH citing this 2024 article from the journal Asia Pacific Translation and Intercultural Studies: “Colexification of “thunder” and “dragon” in Sino-Tibetan languages” by Hongdi Ding and Sicong Ding. From the abstract:
[372] languages were classified into colexifying and dislexifying languages, depending on whether the two concepts are associated with shared lexical forms. The findings reveal that 47 languages in the sample exhibit thunder-dragon colexification; most of them are Bodic and Na-Qiangic languages, with a few Sinitic, Mongolic, and Turkic languages. This areal pattern results from both inheritance and language contact.
So, patterns of colexification spread areally, through both inheritance and language contact, just like other linguistic features.
Note that colexification must have arisen in at least one language at some time, but this article isn’t about the mechanisms that might have given rise to colexification of ‘thunder’ and ‘dragon’ or to simple examples of colexification in English: ‘grain stalks’ (in the mass N straw) and ‘drinking tube’ (in the count N straw); ‘riverside land’ (in the count N bank, as in both banks of the Seine) and ‘financial institution’ (in the count N bank, as in savings banks).
But now the terminology.
The potluck surprise
July 23, 2024From Sunday’s’s (7/21) New York Times Magazine, in the section “The Ethicist: Bonus Advice From Judge John Hodgman”:
Angel writes: My co-worker Nick suggested we have a baked-goods potluck at work. I got excited because I have a great baked-mac-and-cheese recipe. But Nick said it wouldn’t count. He says it must be something made with a batter or dough. I disagree!
—–
Many things are baked (potatoes, Brie, Alaska), and like macaroni and cheese, they are good. But they are not “baked goods” in common usage. … In your case, most of the cooking happens outside the oven, and the baking is just a finishing touch. That said, who cares? [and on from there]
Angel has run aground on the shoals of idiomaticity; they suppose that the meaning of baked goods is straightforwardly compositional, ‘goods that have been baked’ — the meaning of the plural noun goods as modified by the meaning of the adjective baked, using the primary senses of the two words. But that won’t fly here, because the nominal baked goods has developed a specialized use, in which it refers to not just any stuff, even not just any foodstuff, that’s been cooked in an oven, but only to breads (and similar foods) and cakes (and similar foods) from an oven. The category of baked goods is expansive, but not so broad as to embrace lasagna, roasted vegetables, baked chicken, baked beans, baked ham, etc. … or mac and cheese.
The profusion of names
December 9, 2023Suppose you investigate a cultural domain, or category, with many things in it — samples of the color pink, forms of the letter T, pieces of flatware, hybrid tea rose plants, and so on. It will turn out that people distinguish a (large) number of different subtypes, or subcategories, within that domain — different shades of pink, different typefaces, different patterns of silverware, different cultivars of hybrid tea roses. And then they will need labels for reference to these subcategories. These could be given code numbers of some sorts (and for some purposes such coding is entirely adequate), but people, quite reasonably, want memorable and at least somewhat meaningful names, in a language. Flamingo pink, a Times typeface, a Shell silverware pattern, the Mr. Lincoln rose, that sort of thing.
In the real world, especially for commercial purposes, the number of subcategories in a domain can be immense, reaching into the hundreds in some domains, and (in some of them) ever-expanding. So names will have to be coined by the barrel, churned out by the yard, and often the best a name creator can do is pick a name with positive associations. It would be entirely possible for there to be an Imperial pink, an Imperial typeface, an Imperial silverware pattern, and an Imperial rose.
Every now and then, I’ve commented on this blog about the profusion of names within some domain. Most recently, in my 12/3/23 posting “Waxed amaryllis” (with lists of some named amaryllis cultivars). You can find some meaningful themes in these lists; plenty of the names for solid red cultivars are associated with Christmas (with its red and green) and Valentine’s Day / love (with a red heart). But then there are Hope, Miracle, and Grand Diva. For solid white cultivars, Amore and Festive Parade. For red with white stripes, Ambiance. For white with red stripes, Besties. At some point, names will have to be plucked out of the air.
Which brings me to Karen Schaffer posting on Facebook on 9/13 about the melons in her garden.
The punmanteau
November 15, 2023Today’s Wayno / Piraro Bizarro hinges on a bit of language play that cuts across two categories of play: it’s a pun based on a portmanteau, a punmanteau:
(#1) A cummerbund in the shape of a Bundt cake (Bundt punning on bund), with a name that’s a portmanteau of the names for those two things: cummerbund + Bundt (cake) = cummerbundt (if you’re puzzled by the odd symbols in the cartoon — Dan Piraro says there are only 2 in this strip — see this Page)
(Note: The Cumberbatch is something else entirely.)
(Further note: Wayno’s title for this one is “Frosted Formalism”, alluding to the icing (aka frosting) on the cummerbundt in the cartoon — though Bundt cakes are not necessarily frosted.)
Three words to marvel at
November 1, 2023🐇 🐇 🐇 trois lapins to inaugurate November, the final month of autumn or spring (depending on which hemisphere you’re in), and celebrate the Day of the Dead. A day on which we’ll enjoy three English words that have entertained posters on Facebook (from now on, FB) recently: calceology ‘the study of footwear’; telamon ‘male figure used as an architectural pillar’; and hallux ‘the first and largest toe (on a human foot)’.
At this point, you might admit that these terms are English words but, quite rightly, object that it would be bizarre to talk about expressions that almost no speakers of English know or use as words of English. Certainly, if I asked you whether English has a word for the study of footwear, you’re almost surely going to say no, because part of our everyday understanding of word of English is that such an expression has some currency, and hardly any speakers of English know or use the expression calceology.
On discovering the technical term calceology, then, you might be willing to say that the term is an English word, or maybe even a word in English, but still balk at saying it’s a word of English. It should by now be clear that we’re dealing with distinct concepts here, and grappling, awkwardly, with putting labels on them. At least one fresh label is called for. I’ll hold off on choosing a label to cover the territory that includes words of English until after I’ve looked at three other characteristics of CTH — calceology, telamon, and hallux — separate from their lacking currency.