Sunday Rest: newsotainment.

The word newsotainment has recently been used by the Guardian Newspaper journalist Marina Hyde to describe a new TV News Channel. 

The channel is so new, in fact, that it hasn't actually broadcast a word, yet, so in this context the word is an insult rather than a criticism.

What's so depressing about this word? 

Two things, as far as I'm concerned.

First, the idea that the news can float free of the truth. I know that truth is a slippery concept, but, really, it's incumbent upon broadcasters to maintain some contact with it. That might even be why the person telling us the news is called an anchor.

Second (and worst of all) is the implication that telling the truth can't be entertaining.

Well, that's my career written-off, then.

Word Not To Use Today: newsotainment. The word news comes from the Middle English word newes, which means new things. The word entertainment comes from the Old French entretenir. The entre- bit implies everyone together, and the tenir bit means to hold.

Those were the days, eh?

Saturday Rave: A Parental Ode to My Son, Aged 3 Years and 5 months by Thomas Hood.

 Thomas Hood (1799 - 1845) was most famous in his time as a comic poet; now he's possibly better known as a serious one.

Still, at the moment there are people being serious all over the place, so here are the first and last verses of one of Hood's more light-hearted works.

It will surely strike a chord with home-schoolers everywhere.

A Parental Ode to My Son, Aged 3 Years and 5 months

Thou happy, happy elf!

(But stop - first let me kiss away that tear -)

Thou tiny image of myself!

(My love, he's poking peas into his ear!)

Thou merry laughing sprite!

With spirits feather-light,

Untouched by sorrow, and unsoiled by sin;

(Good heavens! The child is swallowing a pin!)

Thou pretty opening rose!

(Go to your mother, child, and wipe your nose!)

Balmy and breathing music like the South,

(He really brings my heart into my mouth!)

Fresh as the morn, and brilliant as its star,

(I wish that window had an iron bar!)

Bold as the hawk, yet gentle as the dove;

(I'll tell you what, my love,

I cannot write unless he's sent above!)

Word To Use Today: sprite. This word comes from French, from the Latin spiritus, spirit.

The whole of Hood's poem can be found HERE.

Word To Use Today: centimetre.

 Just in case there's anyone in the world who hasn't already heard this story:

Liam Thorp, the Political Editor of the Liverpool Express Newspaper, was surprised when he was called in for his Covid-19 vaccination. He's thirty-two years old, quite healthy, and his turn for a jab should have been a couple of months away.

Further investigation (he's a journalist, after all) revealed that on his medical notes his height had been entered as 6.2 centimetres instead of six feet two inches. 

This gave him a BMI* of about 28,000.

Mr Thorp's actual BMI is much lower than that, but he's thinking of going on a diet, anyway.

Word To Use Today: centimetre. Centum is Latin for a hundred. The Greek word metron means measure. Mita means measure in Sanskrit.

A metre was defined in 1793 as one ten-millionth of what the distance from the North Pole to the Equator would be if the Earth was a perfect sphere. They got that a bit wrong, so later the metre became defined as the length of a metre-long bar - and then after that the length of a different metre-long bar - and then later still as the length of a certain number of krypton-86 waves. 

Now it's defined as the distance travelled by light in a vacuum in one two hundred and ninety nine million seven hundred and ninety two thousand four hundred and fifty eighth of a second.

I think they should make that number a three hundred millionth of a second. 

I doubt it'd make much difference, most of the time.

*BMI = Body Mass Index. Ideally it's between about twenty and twenty five.

The size of a battery: a rant.

 I've been wondering about putting up some solar panels.

You can install a system nowadays which includes a battery to provide electricity when the sun isn't shining (this is, after all,  Britain). This battery would typically go in the loft. 

But would it go in the loft, that's the thing? Our loft is no more than four feet high at its highest point, and it slopes steeply down from there. 

So how big is this battery?

Scroll down...scroll down...

Ah. Here we are.

The battery is the size of a fridge.

...

...but - but - but - but how big is a fridge, for heaven's sake?

If they'd said as big as a standard domestic washing machine then that would have conveyed some useful information.

Or, here's an original thought: how about using some generally understood system of comparison. Like, I don't know, centimetres?

Doh!

Wird To Use Today: fridge. (They're very nearly always called fridges in Britain, not refrigerators). The Latin word refrīgerāre means to make cold. Frīgus means cold.

Nuts and Bolts: commuovere.

 English has more words than any other language, but it's still full of holes.

We don't quite have a word for commuovere.

Commuovere means to induce intense emotional participation, arousing feelings of pity and pain and passion.

You can use it of a story that moves you to tears.

Angelica Kauffmann: Ariadne deserted by Theseus

I find there are more of those as I get older. 

Still, I suppose that's better than getting cynical.

Word To Consider Using Today: commuovere. It isn't a very British kind of thing, being moved to tears, and perhaps that's why we need to borrow a word for it. The word comes from the Latin commoveō, to move or affect.

Thing Not To Be Involved In Today: deception.

 Deception is a contranym - that is, a word that means both itself and the opposite thing, as well.

In the phrase your deception was simple, who is doing the deceiving? And who is being deceived?

Your assumption as to which way to interpret that phrase might just reveal something very deep about your personality: do you, basically, associate yourself with a victim or a perpetrator?

In fact I may have just solved the whole how-do-we-tell-who-is-evil? problem.

But, on the other hand, I probably haven't.

Thing Not To Be Involved In Today: deception. This word comes from the Old French deceivre, from the Latin dēcipere, to ensnare, from capere, to take.

Spot the Frippet: a moiety.

 Moiety is an old-fashioned kind of a word.

It can mean a half, especially a half of something that comes in two pieces.

So what comes in moieties?

Lentils, I suppose:

photo by Mx. Granger

Actually a moiety doesn't have to be one of two equal parts, and in fact it's more often the smaller of two portions.

So you could have the moiety of a cake:

The ownership of an estate is quite often divided so there's a moiety, too.

I suggest you watch the helpings at meal times today. 

It's really just a question of being fair. 

Well, or slim, I suppose. 

Spot the Frippet: moiety. This word comes from the French moitié, from the Latin mediētās, middle.