Word To Use Today: tissue.

I could tell you all sorts of things about the word tissue.

I could tell you that it's the word for the sheen on a narwhal's horn; I could tell you it's the term for the misty halo of light that you get round street lamps; I could tell you that it's the name for a cloud less than three hours old.

Unfortunately, if I did, I would be making up a tissue of lies...

...sorry!

So. Tissue. Mostly we sneeze into them (though the fact that we make the sound tissue when we do is a coincidence.)

So is the fact that tissues aren't made of tissue paper.

And what's the connection between tissue paper and tissue culture, which is to do with keeping parts of a living thing alive in a laboratory?

Well, not a lot is the answer to that question, but tissue culture   gives us tissue type, which tells us who can give bits of themselves (a kidney, for example) to whom successfully.

Lastly, there's the fabric sort of tissue, which is a fine gauzy cloth, originally threaded through with gold or silver. From this we get the name of the fabric-wrapped acrobatic display Aerial Tissue:




which is nearly as marvellous and extraordinary as the sheen on a narwhal's horn.

Word To Use Today: tissue. This word comes from the Old French tissu, from tistre, to weave, from the Latin texere.

Rising Damp: a rant.

I saw a headline not long ago inviting me to join Greenpeace, an organisation which is trying to stop the world getting warmer.

You see, if the world does get warmer then lots of the world's ice will melt.

The melt-water will flow down into the seas, which will rise and cause floods and annoyance to all and sundry.

This prospect is worrying to many people.

The Greenpeace headline said:

JOIN THE ARCTIC RISING

Um...

...but isn't that just what they're trying to prevent?

Word To Use Today: arctic. This word comes from the Greek arktos, which means bear.


Photo: Steve Hillebrand / USFWS

Nuts and Bolts: three times lucky.

I was delighted to come across the word screwworm the other day.

It's not that I'm a lover of worms, especially, it's the double w that's so satisfying. It made me wonder if I could make a list of double-letter words for the whole alphabet.

Well, can you?

But how about words with triple letters?

Yes, there are some, although many triple-letter words, like yayyy and buzzz, are cheating, rather, and triple-letter scientific names don't quite count, as far as I'm concerned, as completely English.

Laparohysterosalpingooophorectomy is an obvious example of one of these.

But there are some really gorgeous triple-letter words, like jibbboom, freeer, frillless, and goddessship.

As if these weren't luxuries enough, there are even a couple of quadruple-letter words, though sadly both are slightly dodgy. There's brrrr, for one, and there's also eeeeve, which the Oxford English Dictionary gives as an early spelling for what we now call the 'i'iwi:



An 'i'iwi is a Hawaiian honeycreeper.

It eats nectar. In Hawaii.

What a life...

Word To Use Today: one with a triple letter in it. Hostessship might be the easiest, as in I'm going to think about my hostessship of our next party very carefully.

Or, if you're male, how about: what on earth is a jibbboom, anyway?

The word triple comes from the Latin word triplus, which means threefold.





 

 

Thing To Do Today: pulsate.

If you have a pulse (and I hope you do) then your heart and arteries will be pulsating already, though the jellyfish amongst you will be making a more thorough whole-body job of it.

Music pulsates too, of course, and sometimes headaches.

The pulsations of the soft coral Heterxenia help to sweep food particles within reach. Rather charmingly, though, Heterxenia knock off the pulsating every afternoon for an hour's nap.

There's a sort of electricity called Direct Pulsating Current:



(My physics teacher would have gone bananas at that graph. Mark your axes, she would always say.*)

On the subject of electricity, if the atmosphere is electric then all sorts of things pulsate: a play may pulsate with tension; a room may pulsate with passion; and even the hills may seem to pulsate with menace.

Is it possible to pulsate with joy?

Hmmm...well, it has to be worth a try, doesn't it.

Thing To Do Today: pulsate. This word comes from the Latin pulsō, to strike repeatedly, from pellō, which means strike.

*That's axes as in the plural of axis, not as in wood chopper. Though marking your wood chopper is also a good idea if you're thinking of lending to someone.

Spot the frippet: assassin.

Oh dear. I think I may be about to unleash worry, suspicion and possibly a bit of fear upon The Word Den's dear and cherished readers.

Ah well.

An assassin is a murderer, usually one that's been paid/inspired/instructed to do the job by someone else. I do hope you haven't got one of those about the place.

There are other assassins about, though, who do their dirty work with their tongues rather than with knives or bombs or guns. A dealer in character-assassination is to be found in every newspaper, and nearly every factory, office, church, and school.

They don't do much harm as long as everyone knows who they are.

Then there are assassin bugs. These aren't devices used by newspapers to gain access to celebrity secrets, but things like these:




Assassin bugs are sweet little creatures who inject lethal saliva into their prey - sometimes animals larger than they are themselves - causing the animals' insides to turn to liquid. The assassin bug then sucks this liquid out.

Lovely.

The assassin fly hunts in the same way, but it has five eyes and a very dense moustache.

Hm...

Suddenly all those acid-tongued character-assassins seem almost loveable.

Spot the frippet: assassin. This word comes from the Latin word assassīnus, from the Arabic Ḥashshāshīn, those who eat hashish.

The first assassins were members of a secret sect operating in Persia and Syria from the 1000s to the 1200s who murdered inconvenient people, usually Crusaders. The name Ḥashshāshīn was originally a contemporary insult which was more to do with the Assassins being a low-class rabble than actually taking drugs.

Sunday Rest. Word Not To Use Today: spatula.

Spatula, sounding as it does like some particularly painful and disfiguring disease caused by foul living conditions, is something one would surely wish to avoid on all occasions, and most especially when preparing food.

(Sorry, I must pause here so I can give way to an intense shuddering aversion.)

I must admit that spatulas are useful things - indeed, presented with an wobbly fried egg it is hard to manage without one - but luckily they have a much less sinister name.

 

 

 

 

And slice sounds nice.

Word Not To Use Today: spatula. This word comes from the Latin word spatha, which means a broad piece, from the Greek spathē, which means blade.

Saturday Rave: The Sharp Grey Sheep.

The trouble with the story of Cinderella, as I'm sure you're already aware, is that it doesn't have any sheep in it.

Well, the story of The Sharp Grey Sheep sorts out that problem.



The Sharp Grey Sheep is a lovely Scottish tale in which the wicked stepmother makes her beautiful step-daughter work as a shepherdess.

The plan is that the step-daughter will starve to death, but the clever sheep foils the plot, hurray!

As if that wasn't enough to make a thoroughly satisfying story, there's a stepmother's daughter who not only acts as a spy but she has a literal eye in the back of her head. 

Being a Cinderella story, there are some gorgeous golden boots (you need stout footwear on the Scottish hills) and a handsome prince to provide a prosperous ending.

So there we are: The Sharp Grey Sheep has all the elements of a perfectly popular story.

Except possibly for a car chase. And an albino monk.

And possibly a few more shades of grey.

Word To Use Today: sheep. This word has been English for a long time. The Old English form was sceap.