luciseaux:

germannn:

Funny and bizarre German animal names
The German language is famous for some really long nouns (Donaudampfschiffahrtsgesellschaftskapitän comes to mind). This is because German nouns, verbs, prepositions and adjectives are like lego bricks; you can stick them together in almost any way to create new words that encapsulate new concepts. This gives the language a special ability to name just about anything. You could call it the German language’s lego brick-like quality, or Legosteineigenschaft (see what I just did there?).

But why does German rely on such an elaborate process to name things as simple as squirrels? When broken down into their separate components, the names of familiar animals mutate into bizarre new creatures.

The Uncanny X-Tiere

Comics are full of heroes with names like super, wonder, iron, ultra, bat or cat followed by -man, -woman, -girl or -boy. A lot of German animal names work the same way, where Tier – the word for animal – is preceded by a word describing that animal’s “super power”.

  • Stinktier – stink animal (skunk)

  • Faultier – lazy animal (sloth)

  • Gürteltier – belt animal (armadillo)

  • Murmeltier – mumbling animal (groundhog)

  • Schnabeltier – beak animal (platypus)

  • Maultier – mouth animal (mule)

  • Trampeltier – trampling animal (bactrian camel). The verb trampeln means to trample or tread upon, whereas the noun Trampel is a clumsy oaf.

Sometimes suffixes get more specific than -tier, but still tend to describe the wrong animal:

  • Schildkröte – shield toad (tortoise)

  • Waschbär – wash bear (raccoon)

  • Nacktschnecke – naked snail (slug)

  • Fledermaus – flutter mouse (bat)

  • Seehund – sea dog (seal)

  • Tintenfisch – ink fish (squid)

  • Truthahn – threatening chicken (turkey). Trut is onomatopoeic for the trut-trut-trut cluck of a turkey, but it’s also been hypothesized that the name comes from the Middle German droten which means “to threaten”.

No, I’m Pretty Sure That’s A Pig

Swine seem to be a popular yardstick in German animal taxonomy.

  • Schweinswal – pig whale (porpoise)

  • Seeschwein – sea pig (dugong). Not to be confused with the Seekuh, or sea cow, known in English as a manatee.

  • Stachelschwein – spike pig (porcupine). The English word is actually just as literal; porcupine sounds a lot like “pork spine”.

  • Wasserschwein – water pig (capybara)

  • Meerschweinchen – ocean piglet (guinea pig). The ending -chen denotes something small. Add it to the end of Schwein and you get a little pig, or piglet. Since the stems Meer and Wasser are often interchangeable, it’s most likely that Meerschweinchen actually means little capybara.

Just Plain Weird

I’d like to end this list by giving one animal a category all to itself: the humble squirrel.

Eichhörnchen:

  • little oak horn: Eiche (oak tree) + Horn (horn) + -chen (little)
  • oak croissant: Eiche (oak tree) + Hörnchen (croissant)

alternate names:

  • Eichkätzchen (regional name) and Eichkatzerl (Austria) – oak kitten

Calling a squirrel a “tree kitten” is reasonably literal, but where does “little oak horn” come from? It seems that the answer comes down to a misplaced h: Eichhörnchen comes from the Old and Middle German eichorn, which has nothing to do with oak trees or horns. In this case, the eich comes from the ancient Indo-Germanic word aig, which means agitated movement, combined with the now obsolete suffix -orn. Somewhere in history a superfluous h was added (along with the diminutive -chen ending) but the original meaning remained. Today, Hörnchen is a category of rodents that includes all squirrels, chipmunks, groundhogs, prairie dogs and flying squirrels.

Keep an eye on this spot for an upcoming post where we’ll delve deeper into the animal kingdom: branching out to birds, insects, reptiles, fishes and any other mammals we find crawling around.

German language is absolutely adorable (and occasionally predictable).

(Source: babbel.com, via lavvyan)

"

Speaking the language of one’s childhood seems to conjure up a host of social and cultural attitudes, beliefs, memories, and emotions, as though returning to the Casbah or to Avenue L and East 19th Street and conversing with the natives opens a window back into some prior state of one’s nature. But do such states of mind arise because one is literally thinking in some new representational format by speaking in a different language? After all, many people experience the same or related changes in sociocultural orientation and sense of self when they are, say, wearing their battered old jeans versus some required business suit or military uniform; or even more poignantly when they re-experience a smell or color or sound associated with dimly recalled events. Many such experiences evoke other times, other places.



But according to many anthropological linguists, sociologists, and cognitive psychologists, speaking a particular language exerts vastly stronger and more pervasive influences than an old shoe or the smell of boiling cabbage. The idea of “linguistic relativity” is that having language, or having a particular language, crucially shapes mental life. Indeed, it may not be only that a specific language exerts its idiosyncratic effects as we speak or listen to it – that language might come to “be” our thought; we may have no way to think many thoughts, conceptualize many of our ideas, without this language, or outside of and independent of this language.

"

The Cambridge Handbook of Thinking and Reasoning, Leila Gleitman and Anna Papafragou

(via connaissais)

(via connaissais)

lavvyan:

returquoise:

When you try to think of a word and can only remember it in another language.

When there is no fitting word in your own language.

Or the word exists in both languages, but the word in the other language conveys a nuance your own language doesn’t.

Pronouncing the apostrophe in Lupita Nyong’o

allthingslinguistic:

estifito:

digatisdi:

Okay so I’ve seen a bunch of things come up tonight from mainly white people talking about how “ghetto” Lupita Nyong’o’s surname sounds apparently and its usually focused on “why is that apostrophe there”

So here’s the thing: in Swahili, <ng> represents the consonant cluster [ŋg] while <ng’> is used for the singular consonant [ŋ]

And even if that weren’t the case, what business is it of yours?

Small correction: Lupita is Luo, and her surname is a Luo name, not Swahili. Unnecessary side note: Barack Obama’s father is Luo as well.

But yes, the same orthographic practices are applicable here in Luo as in Swahili. <ng> represents the consonant cluster [ŋg] while <ng’> is used for the singular consonant [ŋ].

Her first name is a diminutive of “Guadalupe”, a Spanish name. She was born in Mexico City and her family moved back to Kenya shortly after.

A shitton of “ghetto” names go back to the many, many languages native to Africa (and some are from Arabic, because of Arab Conquests in Northern Africa). 

Apostrophes (and also the letter h) are basically like accent marks for consonants: they fairly consistently do something to the consonant, but what they do varies widely from language to language, depending on what type of squeezing and stretching it needs to fit into the latin alphabet. (Some languages have actual consonant accent marks, like ç and ñ, as well.)

Here’s Lupita Nyong’o on her own Instagram showing how to pronounce her name. You can hear her flap the intervocalic /t/ in “Lupita” and add a bit of offglide to the /o/ for the Americanized pronunciation. 

(via fuckyeahmylanguage)

psychosassic:

and all the linguists in the night vale fandom have a collective cheer

psychosassic:

and all the linguists in the night vale fandom have a collective cheer

(Source: bloodstonepentagram, via jebiwonkenobi)

hastur:

An award-winning professor from the University has followed in the footsteps of Indiana Jones by cracking the code of a 600 year old manuscript, deemed as ‘the most mysterious’ document in the world.

Stephen Bax, Professor of Applied Linguistics, has just become the first professional linguist to crack the code of the Voynich manuscript using an analytical approach.

hey-ginger:

http://www.unesco.org/culture/languages-atlas/index.php
UNESCO’s atlas of world languages in danger.  Pretty startling.

hey-ginger:

http://www.unesco.org/culture/languages-atlas/index.php

UNESCO’s atlas of world languages in danger.  Pretty startling.

constant-instigator:

ermefinedining:

This map should be included in every history book.

Oh wow! I’ve been wanting this for ages!

constant-instigator:

ermefinedining:

This map should be included in every history book.

Oh wow! I’ve been wanting this for ages!

(via connaissais)

ceebee-eebee:

xshiromorix:

bleedingsilverbird:

“Let’s face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it? If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm goes off by going on. English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.”

— (via be-killed)

But, but, but!

But, no, because there are reasons for all of those seemingly weird English bits.

Like “eggplant” is called “eggplant” because the white-skinned variety (to which the name originally applied) looks very egg-like.

image

The “hamburger” is named after the city of Hamburg.

The name “pineapple” originally (in Middle English) applied to pine cones (ie. the fruit of pines - the word “apple” at the time often being used more generically than it is now), and because the tropical pineapple bears a strong resemblance to pine cones, the name transferred.

The “English” muffin was not invented in England, no, but it was invented by an Englishman, Samuel Bath Thomas, in New York in 1894. The name differentiates the “English-style” savoury muffin from “American” muffins which are commonly sweet.

"French fries" are not named for their country of origin (also the United States), but for their preparation. They are French-cut fried potatoes - ie. French fries.

"Sweetmeats" originally referred to candied fruits or nuts, and given that we still use the term "nutmeat" to describe the edible part of a nut and "flesh" to describe the edible part of a fruit, that makes sense.

"Sweetbread" has nothing whatsoever to do with bread, but comes from the Middle English "brede", meaning "roasted meat". "Sweet" refers not to being sugary, but to being rich in flavour.

Similarly, “quicksand” means not “fast sand”, but “living sand” (from the Old English “cwicu” - “alive”).

The term boxing “ring” is a holdover from the time when the “ring” would have been just that - a circle marked on the ground. The first square boxing ring did not appear until 1838. In the rules of the sport itself, there is also a ring - real or imagined - drawn within the now square arena in which the boxers meet at the beginning of each round.

The etymology of “guinea pig” is disputed, but one suggestion has been that the sounds the animals makes are similar to the grunting of a pig. Also, as with the “apple” that caused confusion in “pineapple”, “Guinea” used to be the catch-all name for any unspecified far away place. Another suggestion is that the animal was named after the sailors - the “Guinea-men” - who first brought it to England from its native South America.

As for the discrepancies between verb and noun forms, between plurals, and conjugations, these are always the result of differing word derivation.

Writers write because the meaning of the word “writer” is “one who writes”, but fingers never fing because “finger” is not a noun derived from a verb. Hammers don’t ham because the noun “hammer”, derived from the Old Norse “hamarr”, meaning “stone” and/or “tool with a stone head”, is how we derive the verb “to hammer” - ie. to use such a tool. But grocers, in a certain sense, DO “groce”, given that the word “grocer” means “one who buys and sells in gross” (from the Latin “grossarius”, meaning “wholesaler”).

"Tooth" and "teeth" is the legacy of the Old English "toð" and "teð", whereas "booth" comes from the Old Danish "boþ". "Goose" and "geese", from the Old English "gōs" and "gēs", follow the same pattern, but "moose" is an Algonquian word (Abenaki: "moz", Ojibwe: "mooz", Delaware: "mo:s"). "Index" is a Latin loanword, and forms its plural quite predictably by the Latin model (ex: matrix -> matrices, vertex -> vertices, helix -> helices).

One can “make amends” - which is to say, to amend what needs amending - and, case by case, can “amend” or “make an amendment”. No conflict there.

"Odds and ends" is not word, but a phrase. It is, necessarily, by its very meaning, plural, given that it refers to a collection of miscellany. A single object can’t be described in the same terms as a group.

"Teach" and "taught" go back to Old English "tæcan" and "tæhte", but "preach" comes from Latin "predician" ("præ" + "dicare" - "to proclaim").

"Vegetarian" comes of "vegetable" and "agrarian" - put into common use in 1847 by the Vegetarian Society in Britain.

"Humanitarian", on the other hand, is a portmanteau of "humanity" and "Unitarian", coined in 1794 to described a Christian philosophical position - "One who affirms the humanity of Christ but denies his pre-existence and divinity". It didn’t take on its current meaning of "ethical benevolence" until 1838. The meaning of "philanthropist" or "one who advocates or practices human action to solve social problems" didn’t come into use until 1842.

We recite a play because the word comes from the Latin “recitare” - “to read aloud, to repeat from memory”. “Recital” is “the act of reciting”. Even this usage makes sense if you consider that the Latin “cite” comes from the Greek “cieo” - “to move, to stir, to rouse , to excite, to call upon, to summon”. Music “rouses” an emotional response. One plays at a recital for an audience one has “called upon” to listen.

The verb “to ship” is obviously a holdover from when the primary means of moving goods was by ship, but “cargo” comes from the Spanish “cargar”, meaning “to load, to burden, to impose taxes”, via the Latin “carricare” - “to load on a cart”.

"Run" (moving fast) and "run" (flowing) are homonyms with different roots in Old English: "ærnan" - "to ride, to reach, to run to, to gain by running", and "rinnan" - "to flow, to run together". Noses flow in the second sense, while feet run in the first. Simillarly, "to smell" has both the meaning "to emit" or "to perceive" odor. Feet, naturally, may do the former, but not the latter.

"Fat chance" is an intentionally sarcastic expression of the sentiment "slim chance" in the same way that "Yeah, right" expresses doubt - by saying the opposite.

"Wise guy" vs. "wise man" is a result of two different uses of the word "wise". Originally, from Old English "wis", it meant "to know, to see". It is closely related to Old English "wit" - "knowledge, understanding, intelligence, mind". From German, we get "Witz", meaning "joke, witticism". So, a wise man knows, sees, and understands. A wise guy cracks jokes.

The seemingly contradictory “burn up” and “burn down” aren’t really contradictory at all, but relative. A thing which burns up is consumed by fire. A house burns down because, as it burns, it collapses.

"Fill in" and "fill out" are phrasal verbs with a difference of meaning so slight as to be largely interchangeable, but there is a difference of meaning. To use the example in the post, you fill OUT a form by filling it IN, not the other way around. That is because "fill in" means "to supply what is missing" - in the example, that would be information, but by the same token, one can "fill in" an outline to make a solid shape, and one can "fill in" for a missing person by taking his/her place. "Fill out", on the other hand, means "to complete by supplying what is missing", so that form we mentioned will not be filled OUT into we fill IN all the missing information.

An alarm may “go off” and it may be turned on (ie. armed), but it does not “go on”. That is because the verb “to go off” means “to become active suddenly, to trigger” (which is why bombs and guns also go off, but do not go on).

I have never been so turned on in my entire life.

(Source: -sorry, via therealallecto)

"

[There is a] general principle of internet language these days that the more overwhelmed with emotions you are, the less sensical your sentence structure gets, which I’ve described elsewhere as “stylized verbal incoherence mirroring emotional incoherence” and which leads us to expressions like “feels,” “I can’t even/I’ve lost the ability to can,” and “because reasons.”

Contrast this with first-generation internet language, demonstrated by LOLcat or 1337speak, and in general characterized by abbreviations containing numbers and single letters, often in caps (C U L8R), smilies containing noses, and words containing deliberate misspellings.

We’ve now moved on: broadly speaking, second-generation internet language plays with grammar instead of spelling. If you’re a doomsayer, the innovative syntax is one more thing to throw up your hands about, but compared to a decade or two ago, the spelling has gotten shockingly conventional.

In this sense, doge really is the next generation of LOLcat, in terms of a pet-based snapshot of a certain era in internet language. We’ve kept the idea that animals speak like an exaggerated version of an internet-savvy human, but as our definitions of what it means to be a human on the internet have changed, so too have the voices that we give our animals. Wow.

"

A Linguist Explains the Grammar of Doge. Wow.

This is my favourite part, if I do say so myself. See also the summary doge macro.

(via allthingslinguistic)

(via prokopetz)