So today the word "shenanigans" crossed my mind, and I began to naturally wonder: why is it plural?
I did a bit of research, and the Oxford English Dictionary says the origin of the word is obscure, but the word is usually used in the plural.
So, is it plural or singular?
Consider these words: jeans, scissors, binoculars. They are plural, yet represent a singular entity because they have two parts to them. This is different than shenanigans, because its meaning is singular while the word is plural without the meaning having any two-part implications.
The Oxford English Dictionary Online defines "shenanigans" as
"Trickery, skulduggery, machination, intrigue; teasing, ‘kidding’, nonsense; (usu. pl.) a plot, a trick, a prank, an exhibition of high spirits, a carry-on."
Mostly due to me being tired, in addition to nobody contesting my previous blog posts, I will conclude that the word "shenanigans" is plural because "hooligans" is required to pull off shenanigans. BAM! That's plural and rhyming!
So friends, always use the word "shenanigans" with the "s", because if you don't, one hooligan will be empowered to pull a shenanigan, and then each hooligan causing a shenanigan can build up to the most ridiculous shenanigans possible! Save the planet by using this powerful word...correctly.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Running a Little Late
Hello people to whom I always seem to address at the beginning of a blog post the issue of small size when I could start with a different introduction!
Today whilst casually strolling to the Apple store (not to buy apples, 'cause this isn't 1900, for crying out loud!) I thought to myself as I looked at my 160 GB iPod Classic: Wow. Look how shiny, glimmering, and beautiful is this marvelously extragent piece of technology!...yeah, I'm kidding. I thought I'm running a bit late. Then, it struck me quite odd that we use that phrase. Think about it: I'm running a bit late? The italicized words are essential to communicating that we are not going to make it somewhere on time (in other words, "I'm late") You could exclude the "a bit" part, and you still have the word "running" which causes confusion to erupt in my brain. Is this phrase perhaps a shortened version of "I'm running [because I'm] late" where the bracketed words disappeared? Or perhaps "[Time is] running; [I'm] late" dropped and rearranged itself into the three-word phrase "I'm running late"?
I then posed this conclusion: The phrase "I'm running late" might have meant "I'm 'running' late". Do you see what I mean? When I say "I'm running late", perhaps I intend to communicate with specificity the "degree of lateness" accompanying my arrival. I think someone grew bored of saying "I'm late" and decided "I'm very late" or any other adjective synonymous to "very" would not do, and so they decided to let people know that they were so late that they needed to run into "I'm running late".
I'm no linguist, but this explanation satisfactorily solves the puzzle for me. So the next time you are late, use a colorful descriptor related to the mode by which you will arrive.
"Sorry man, but I'm teleporting late for the meeting we planned..."
Today whilst casually strolling to the Apple store (not to buy apples, 'cause this isn't 1900, for crying out loud!) I thought to myself as I looked at my 160 GB iPod Classic: Wow. Look how shiny, glimmering, and beautiful is this marvelously extragent piece of technology!...yeah, I'm kidding. I thought I'm running a bit late. Then, it struck me quite odd that we use that phrase. Think about it: I'm running a bit late? The italicized words are essential to communicating that we are not going to make it somewhere on time (in other words, "I'm late") You could exclude the "a bit" part, and you still have the word "running" which causes confusion to erupt in my brain. Is this phrase perhaps a shortened version of "I'm running [because I'm] late" where the bracketed words disappeared? Or perhaps "[Time is] running; [I'm] late" dropped and rearranged itself into the three-word phrase "I'm running late"?
I then posed this conclusion: The phrase "I'm running late" might have meant "I'm 'running' late". Do you see what I mean? When I say "I'm running late", perhaps I intend to communicate with specificity the "degree of lateness" accompanying my arrival. I think someone grew bored of saying "I'm late" and decided "I'm very late" or any other adjective synonymous to "very" would not do, and so they decided to let people know that they were so late that they needed to run into "I'm running late".
I'm no linguist, but this explanation satisfactorily solves the puzzle for me. So the next time you are late, use a colorful descriptor related to the mode by which you will arrive.
"Sorry man, but I'm teleporting late for the meeting we planned..."
Sunday, May 9, 2010
On Cupcakes and Muffins
My beloved 3 people or fewer (that's love! You don't get it? "less than three" is “< 3” which makes a heart…oh never mind.) who read this blog, I profusely apologize for not updating for a lengthy period of time.
I wish to inform you, the reader, of a milestone in my life. From this day forth, I refuse to acknowledge the existence of: cupcakes.
My heart desired very much so to accomplish this important update. Alas, school, amongst many other activities, beckoned me to devote my affection and attention to them.
So why the strange topic? You may ask aloud or to yourself. Well, it all started sometime last week when I was enjoying a cupcake while observing its shape, (something I frequently do, naturally), when I realized it looked like a muffin in shape. At this moment, the confusion receptors in my cranial crevices went haywire, as I sought release from this intensely stressful perplexity that was suffocating me. Okay, so I wasn't writing on the floor in a seizurely state, but I did begin to ask: Aren't cupcakes just muffins with icing? What defines a cupcake...or a muffin?
I knew my iPhone was definitely the first place to go for answers, so I opened up the Wordbook Dictionary application and typed in "cupcake" and it showed me:
cup•cake /’kΛpkeIk/
noun
1. small cake baked in a muffin tin
ORIGIN: From cup + cake
I next searched "muffin", and on the screen was:
muf•fin /’mΛfIn/
noun
1. a sweet quick bread baked in a cup-shaped pan
syn: gem
ORIGIN: 1703, possibility from Low German muffen, pl. of muffe “small cake”
At this point, I formulated this axiom, which will prove my points henceforth: "A [WHATEVER] tin is an object in which [WHATEVER(S)] are baked in" i.e. A muffin tin is an object in which muffins are baked in.
From this axiom, I then can say that a "cupcake" is a muffin (due to its baking location) that is a cake, and that a "muffin" as defined above is not a cupcake, despite the words "cup-shaped pan" which appear in the definition.
Here is why "cup-shaped pan" does not imply "cupcake". Would it help to define a muffin as "a sweet quick bread baked in a muffin tin"? Not really, because it never helps to see "muffin" in the definition of itself. In other words, one ought not to use a word when defining that word. Therefore, the phrase "cup-shaped pan" only serves to describe the shape of a muffin tin without using the phrase "muffin tin".
Okay, enough with pedantic semantics. What should you call this delectable treat, then? Well, since what most people call "cupcakes" are really just muffins that are cakes, you should call it a "muffin cake", which describes what kind of cake it is (not your normal cake), or an "iced muffin", which is a muffin with icing...like a cake! Or if "iced" reminds you of tea, "muffin with icing", "frosted muffin", or "icing adorned muffin" works too.
With this newly learned knowledge, you can inform your friends and help them to be an undumb, rational, informed human being like you have become through this revelation. Together, we can make a difference in this misinformed nation about the way people wrongly think of "cupcakes". We can be the change and revolution: for the advancement of the human race, to prevent oven temperature flucuations and home gas range explosions (although we chemists enjoy explosions, they're generally not good in your oven) from the misuse of this word, and finally, to bring about world peace and to dispel the myth that babies are brought to parents by the stork. (Note: A representative from the Storks Association of the World [SAW] has given me a hefty sum of money to mention them in this post)
In sharing this treasured information to simply every moving thing or person you see, you can help achieve all of the aforementioned goals in the paragraph preceding this conclusory sentence.
Thank you for your attention and endurance of my coined language and discussion of a seemingly trivial topic that is actually monumentally life-changing.
I wish to inform you, the reader, of a milestone in my life. From this day forth, I refuse to acknowledge the existence of: cupcakes.
My heart desired very much so to accomplish this important update. Alas, school, amongst many other activities, beckoned me to devote my affection and attention to them.
So why the strange topic? You may ask aloud or to yourself. Well, it all started sometime last week when I was enjoying a cupcake while observing its shape, (something I frequently do, naturally), when I realized it looked like a muffin in shape. At this moment, the confusion receptors in my cranial crevices went haywire, as I sought release from this intensely stressful perplexity that was suffocating me. Okay, so I wasn't writing on the floor in a seizurely state, but I did begin to ask: Aren't cupcakes just muffins with icing? What defines a cupcake...or a muffin?
I knew my iPhone was definitely the first place to go for answers, so I opened up the Wordbook Dictionary application and typed in "cupcake" and it showed me:
cup•cake /’kΛpkeIk/
noun
1. small cake baked in a muffin tin
ORIGIN: From cup + cake
I next searched "muffin", and on the screen was:
muf•fin /’mΛfIn/
noun
1. a sweet quick bread baked in a cup-shaped pan
syn: gem
ORIGIN: 1703, possibility from Low German muffen, pl. of muffe “small cake”
At this point, I formulated this axiom, which will prove my points henceforth: "A [WHATEVER] tin is an object in which [WHATEVER(S)] are baked in" i.e. A muffin tin is an object in which muffins are baked in.
From this axiom, I then can say that a "cupcake" is a muffin (due to its baking location) that is a cake, and that a "muffin" as defined above is not a cupcake, despite the words "cup-shaped pan" which appear in the definition.
Here is why "cup-shaped pan" does not imply "cupcake". Would it help to define a muffin as "a sweet quick bread baked in a muffin tin"? Not really, because it never helps to see "muffin" in the definition of itself. In other words, one ought not to use a word when defining that word. Therefore, the phrase "cup-shaped pan" only serves to describe the shape of a muffin tin without using the phrase "muffin tin".
Okay, enough with pedantic semantics. What should you call this delectable treat, then? Well, since what most people call "cupcakes" are really just muffins that are cakes, you should call it a "muffin cake", which describes what kind of cake it is (not your normal cake), or an "iced muffin", which is a muffin with icing...like a cake! Or if "iced" reminds you of tea, "muffin with icing", "frosted muffin", or "icing adorned muffin" works too.
With this newly learned knowledge, you can inform your friends and help them to be an undumb, rational, informed human being like you have become through this revelation. Together, we can make a difference in this misinformed nation about the way people wrongly think of "cupcakes". We can be the change and revolution: for the advancement of the human race, to prevent oven temperature flucuations and home gas range explosions (although we chemists enjoy explosions, they're generally not good in your oven) from the misuse of this word, and finally, to bring about world peace and to dispel the myth that babies are brought to parents by the stork. (Note: A representative from the Storks Association of the World [SAW] has given me a hefty sum of money to mention them in this post)
In sharing this treasured information to simply every moving thing or person you see, you can help achieve all of the aforementioned goals in the paragraph preceding this conclusory sentence.
Thank you for your attention and endurance of my coined language and discussion of a seemingly trivial topic that is actually monumentally life-changing.
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