Four expressions I didn't know until today came from rhyming slang

- Scarper; British slang for 'run away'. From Scapa Flow - Go. 

- Grass; as in informant. From Grasshopper - copper (and from there to copper's nark) 

- Dukes; slang for fists, as in 'duking it out'. From Duke of York - Fork. ('Forks' being now-forgotten slang for hands.) 

- Donkey's years; a long time. From Donkey's Ears, rhyming slang for Years... but then the Y crept back in. 

Alt Text: Donkey's ears. And between them, a donkey. Well, I suppose there's always a donkey between a donkey's ears. I mean: another one, framed in the photo between the ears of the first donkey. Glad we've got that clear. It doesn't matter in the least. 

"You have been in Afghanistan, nhi-ka"

Wonderfully, the Tariana language of the Amazon has different grammatical tenses that indicate where you got the evidence for what you are saying: Whether you saw it, detected it non-visually, were told about it, inferred it... or assumed it. 

So, according to the fieldwork of the linguist Alexandra Aikhenvald, here are five ways to report on the culinary activities of your father's younger brother:


Nu-nami karaka di-merita-naka
My younger uncle is frying chicken' (I (the speaker) see him)

Nu-nami karaka di-merita-mha
'My younger uncle is frying chicken' (I smell the fried chicken, but cannot see this)

Nu-nami karaka di-merita-pida-ka
'My younger uncle has fried chicken' (I was told recently)

Nu-nami karaka di-merita-nhi-ka
'My younger uncle has fried chicken' (I see bits of grease stuck on his hands and he smells of fried chicken)

And my favourite:

Nu-nami karaka di-merita-si-ka
'My younger uncle has fried chicken' (I assume so: he gets so much money he can afford it, and he looks like he has had a nice meal)

My younger uncle.

Aikhenvald goes on to say that Tariana speakers use the second of these tenses when reporting their dreams, since they did not really 'see' them. Unless... they belong to the highest caste of shaman, known as yawi, whose dreams are taken to be true. (Yawi are also believed to be capable of turning themselves into jaguars. So I suppose I can see why you'd let them tell you their boring dreams.)

Fieldwork

Some names recorded for fields in England, with explanations.

Eight Day Math - meadow requiring eight days to mow.
Pasty Crust - field with brittle soil.
Handkerchief - small field
Seldom Seen - remote field
Australia - ditto
Happersnapper - 'enclosure with a wicket gate'
The Psalms - 'land on which the psalms were recited during the bound-beating ceremony'
Rumps and Buttocks - 'alluding to convex configurations'

And a selection from my favourite category: 'Derogatory names for unprofitable or unfertile fields.'

Famish Acre
No Man's Friend
Labour in Vain
Purgatory
Raw Bones
Rats' Castle
Bare Arse
Thin Porridge
Terrible

All these from the excellent dictionary 'English Field-Names', by- in a piece of extraordinarily on-the-nose nominal determinism- John Field.

Also, you don't have to do ears.

Here's something I didn't know: silhouettes were, as you might not be surprised to learn, named after a Monsieur Silhouette. But, as you might be surprised to learn, he didn't invent them. Étienne de Silhouette was an unpopular French finance minister in the 18th Century who imposed austerity measures so fierce that to do something 'à la Silhouette' became slang for to do it on the cheap. And having your silhouette cut or drawn was a lot cheaper then having a miniature painted...

I was going to illustrate this with a picture of a silhouette which is thought to be a self-portrait by Jane Austen. But unfortunately, I looked into it, and it turns out there's another, more persuasive theory which is: no it's not. So instead, here's a couple of mine. It turns out silhouettes are a good way of doing quick sketches of people sat next to you at the British Library, because it only takes a few crafty sideways glances now and then, and then the rest is just colouring in.

No, neither are self-portraits.

Dry Spell

The national football team of Niue has never scored a goal.

Niue is a small island nation in the South Pacific, with a population of 1,600. And their national football team has in fact only played two matches in its history - both in the 1983 South Pacific Games. It's not as if goals weren't scored in those matches, however. Niue lost 14 nil to Tahiti, and 19 nil to Papua New Guinea.

At this point you may be thinking, well, so what? It's a tiny nation with the population of a village. Of course their sports teams are going to get thrashed by far, far bigger countries like Tahiti or Papua New Guinea...

In May 2015, the national Rugby League team of Niue played South Africa. They won 48 - 4.

All that glisters is not gold.

At the end of the nineteenth century, a rich gold strike near the Mexican town of Tlalpujahua meant that for a few years in the early twentieth century, it was the largest producer of gold in the world. The mine was a huge industry, and the population grew to a quarter of a million. Then, in 1937, a major landslide buried the mine, and much of the town. The mine closed, and the townspeople were forced to go elsewhere in search of work. Within ten years, the population was under a thousand.

One of the men who left was Joquaín Muñoz Orta, who in the fifties ended up in Chicago, working in a factory making artificial Christmas trees. When he returned to Mexico, he set up a workshop making first trees, and then baubles to go with them. The baubles were far more popular, and the workshop grew into a factory... which is now the fifth largest producer of baubles in the world. There is also a second bauble factory in the town, as well as over a hundred small family workshops. The population of Tlapujahua is now back up to about a quarter of a million... and around 70% of the town's economy comes from bauble-making.

I just thought that was nice. Happy New Year.

The A, of course, stands for 'avoid thinking of envelopes'.

Like everyone else, I used to confuse the words 'stationery', meaning materials to do with writing; and 'stationary', meaning not in motion. And like many people, I now tell them apart with the mnemonic that the E in 'stationery' stands for 'envelopes'. 

But it only today occurred to me to wonder why two words with such different meanings should be so similar. So, I looked it up... and it turns out that the first stationers, in the Middle Ages, were scribes and paper merchants given licences, typically by universities or law courts, to ply their trade from permanent booths- or stations- as opposed to their competitors, who were itinerant peddlars.

So, pleasingly: stationers sell stationery because their stations were stationary. 

I thought you'd like to know. 

Two of a kind

Winston Churchill. Not that one.

This is nice. In 1899, Winston Churchill was 25, an aspiring politician, and the author of a couple of books. He was not, however, the most famous Winston Churchill around. That was the now largely forgotten, but at the time best-selling, American novelist... Winston Churchill. Aware of this, the British Winston Churchill wrote to his namesake as follows:

Mr. Winston Churchill presents his compliments to Mr. Winston Churchill, and begs to draw his attention to a matter which concerns them both. [...] He has no doubt that Mr. Winston Churchill will recognise from this letter — if indeed by no other means — that there is grave danger of his works being mistaken for those of Mr. Winston Churchill. He feels sure that Mr. Winston Churchill desires this as little as he does himself. In future to avoid mistakes as far as possible, Mr. Winston Churchill has decided to sign all published articles, stories, or other works, ‘Winston Spencer Churchill,’ and not ‘Winston Churchill’ as formerly. He trusts that this arrangement will commend itself to Mr. Winston Churchill, and he ventures to suggest, with a view to preventing further confusion which may arise out of this extraordinary coincidence, that both Mr. Winston Churchill and Mr. Winston Churchill should insert a short note in their respective publications explaining to the public which are the works of Mr. Winston Churchill and which those of Mr. Winston Churchill. 

To which the American Winston Churchill replied:

Mr. Winston Churchill is extremely grateful to Mr. Winston Churchill for bringing forward a subject which has given Mr. Winston Churchill much anxiety. Mr. Winston Churchill appreciates the courtesy of Mr. Winston Churchill in adopting the name of ‘Winston Spencer Churchill’ in his books, articles, etc. Mr. Winston Churchill makes haste to add that, had he possessed any other names, he would certainly have adopted one of them.

Good work, Winstons.

Good Dog!

This week, I'm on The Unbelievable Truth again, which is one of my favourite shows to do, and indeed to listen to. You can hear it here, via the iPlayer for the next six days or so.  

In the show, you give a short lecture on a subject, almost all of which must be lies, but with five 'unbelievable truths' hidden somewhere. Here is what I had to say about dogs, together with some extra nonsense which didn't make the edit. But to find out four of the five unbelievable truths hidden therein, you will have to listen to the show... 

My dog can fly.

Dogs and humans have been together since the beginning of time. The Ancient Greeks used spaniels to catch fish and tell the future. Old English sheepdogs were used in old England to herd pigeons and children. Aristocrats used miniature poodles as hand-warmers, whilst starving peasants would allow Yorkshire Terriers to swim in a cauldron of warm water for ten minutes, and then drink the result, known as 'Dog Soup'. And of course today, dogs work for us as everything from wine tasters to air traffic controllers.

The actor John Wayne claimed he had won Lassie the dog in a poker game. However, Lassie the dog claimed she had won the actor John Wayne in a poker game. It was a classic stand-off. John Wayne called Lassie the dog a dirty liar. Lassie said the hell she was a liar, one-eyed jacks were wild, and John Wayne damn well knew it. John Wayne said all dogs cheated at cards anyway, did Lassie think he’d never seen that painting?  In the resulting shootout, Lassie lost an ear, and John Wayne was killed. But not wanting to upset the children, Columbia Studios bought another cowboy that looked just like John Wayne, and never told anybody. Similarly, we’re already on our fifth Justin Bieber.

Dog, spelt backwards, is of course 'good'; a fact that has led many people to worship them as Gods. The Toltec civilisation believed their Gods watched them through the eyes of chihuahuas. The Egyptian God Atem had the head of a dog and the body of a squirrel, and was forever chasing himself around heaven. And of course St Christopher is often portrayed with the head of a dog, owing to an unfortunate confusion between 'from Canaan' and 'Canine'

David will like this - the Siberian Husky is not technically a dog at all. It is in fact... six cats in a costume. Two on the front legs, two on the back, one in the head, and one in the middle working the tongue and the tail. You might ask, how could one cat inside a husky reach both the tongue and the tail? To which I would reply... Is that really the part of this that's bothering you?

The inventor Alexander Graham Bell claimed he had taught his dog to talk. However, it was noticeable he would only claim this whilst using his new invention, the telephone. 'Oh, by the by’ he would say ‘I’ve taught the dog to talk. Shall I put him on? "Herro! I'm Ruffles! Rri can talk now! Sausages!" There. That was him. Aren't I a good inventor?'

As a boy, King William II rode out to hunt on a mastiff instead of a horse. Henry III would often wear a basket of Bichon Frises round his neck  in a confused attempt to get girls to look at him. And of course the Queen has six corgis, named Tesco, Shiny George, Little Sir Woofsalot, Bernard Bresslaw, Argax the Destroyer, and Unnamed Dog.

Only sixteen dalmations were used in the live action remake of 101 Dalmations. They were then multiplied with CGI, but only after special dog make-up artists changed the pattern of their spots. The film did, however, use two Glenn Closes, as the original got rabies during filming, and the studio just pulled the old John Wayne trick.

My dog can't fly. But he can ride a horse.

The fifth unbelievable truth I am going to tell you now, because it's my new favourite truth I have ever tried to smuggle on the show (beating the previous title-holder, which was that Prince Waldemar of Prussia once played a trick on his grandmother, Queen Victoria, by letting a crocodile loose in her study.) 

It is that in the Eastern Orthodox Church, St Christopher was often shown in icons as having the head of a dog, because of a mix-up between the Latin for 'from Canaan' and… 'Canine'. Yes, that is actually true. I know, but it is. No, it is. Trust me, it is. 

I can tell you still don't believe me. 

Fine.

St Stephen trying to dry St Christopher's paws before he comes into the house. 

St Christopher performing the miracle of the Untaken Biscuit.

'Shake, St Christopher! Good boy!' 

Alan Rufus was also known as 'Alan the Red'. Good name.

This is Richmond, California.

It was named in 1854 by Edmund Randolph; after his home city of Richmond, Virginia.

This is Richmond, Virginia.

It was named in 1737 by William Mayo, because it reminded him of his home town of Richmond, in Surrey. I find it a little hard to see it myself, but they've both probably changed a bit since then. 

This is Richmond, Surrey. 

You may recognise it from having had people cycle past it very fast a couple of weeks ago. It was named in 1501 by Henry VII, after the town of Richmond, in Yorkshire, of which he was Earl. 

This is Richmond, Yorkshire.

It was named in 1071 by Alan Rufus, after the village of Richemont in Normandy. 

This is Richemont, Normandy

It was named once upon a time by someone history has forgotten, either because it was on a fertile hill; or - and this is the one I hope-  because it was on a mound which belonged to Richard. If the latter, it seems to me this forgotten medieval Frenchman must be one of the most commemorated people in history, given that he's the origin of the first syllable of not only all the above places, but also the fifty or so other Richmonds in the USA, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, South Africa and Jamaica. 

What can we conclude?

-That the people who get to name settlements aren't as imaginative as we might like. 

-That as they get older and more influential, men get soppy about the place they come from. (Or are Earl of.)

-That Richard's mound casts a long shadow.

-That I am no longer allowed to check things on Wikipedia when I'm supposed to be writing. 

P.S. There is an Edinburgh Festival special episode of John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme now up on iPlayer. Hope you like it! The new series begins next month. Also, there is an excellent new radio show, also on iPlayer, called Before They Were Famous, in which the very funny Ian Leslie imagines the early careers of various writers; and also kindly allows me to do some of their silly voices. Watch out, professors of linguistics, for my subtle differentiation of the Czech Kafka from the Russian Dostoyevsky. Gulp. I normally do links, but I have already spent far too much time searching for photos of obscure French villages. They're on iPlayer, basically. Google it. 

Twinned with St-Bernard-mais-D'oh!

Westward Ho! is a small village in Devon, which was named after Charles Kingsley's book, and is the only place in Britain to have an exclamation mark as an official part of its name. Which is a shame, because imagine how much more exciting it would be to visit, say, 'Birmingham!'.

Anyway, until yesterday, I thought it was the only such place in the world, but that's when I learnt of the existence of the small Quebecois town of...

Fantastic. Double the exclamation marks, double the fun. Apparently the Commission du Toponymie  (and kudos to the Canadians for having such a thing) maintains the 'Ha! Ha!' relates to a nearby lake being an unexpected obstacle, like a Ha-ha... but I think we all know the event it actually commemorates.

But not least.

This is Cuthbert Lempriere Holthouse. Doubtless you've always wondered what Cuthbert Lempriere Holthouse looked like - well, he looked like this.

The object he is holding is the last ever of the original Wooden Spoons, in the sense of a mocking award for finishing last. It began as a tradition amongst the Mathematics faculty at Cambridge University, from at least 1803 until 1909, of awarding a wooden spoon to the student who graduated with the lowest passing mark. The spoons got bigger and more elaborate over time, culminating in this one, which was converted from a rowing blade, as it was apparently Cuthbert's devotion to the college boat which cost him greater academic success. 


(Were you surprised a maths student named Cuthbert turned out to be such a jock? Me too. Shame on us for our lazy preconceptions.)


The reason the tradition ended in 1909 is apparently because 'the system was changed so that the results were announced in alphabetical order rather than by exam mark.' Though really, if that little manoeuvre successfully rendered an entire graduating class of Cambridge mathematicians unable to work out who had come bottom, I can’t help but think wooden spoons were due all round. 

Foo Foo update; and the military career of Colonel Sir Nils Olav.

Oh, and do you know who else has a white miniature poodle named Foo Foo? I'll tell you who:

That's who. Which raises two equally exciting possibilities: that the Crown Prince of Thailand is a Muppet fan, and named his Air Chief Marshal after Miss Piggy's poodle; or, that he's never heard of the Muppets, but just happens to share a taste in poodle names with Miss Piggy. I can't decide which I want to be true more. 

Now, let's forget all this silliness, and study instead the distinguished career of a proper soldier - Colonel-in-Chief Sir Nils Olav of the Norwegian King's Guard. Olav joined the army in 1972 as a humble Lance Corporal, but gradually rose through the ranks until 2005, when he was appointed Colonel-in-Chief. In 2008, he was knighted by King Harald V. He has won several medals, and statues in his honour have been erected in both Oslo and Edinburgh, where he lives. 

Here he is inspecting his troops. 

And here he is receiving his knighthood:

I wonder who would win a battle between the Norwegian King's Guard and the Royal Thai Air Force? Or between their commanders?

Hail to the Foo Foo.

Air Chief Marshal is a military rank in the air forces of several countries, including Great Britain. It is a four star rank, equivalent in seniority to a General in the Army, or an Admiral in the Navy. Thailand, apparently, has two currently serving Air Chief Marshals: Air Chief Marshal Itthaporn Subhawong, the 21st commander-in-chief of the Royal Thai Air Force, who looks like this:

...and Air Chief Marshal Foo Foo, who looks like this:

The second of the country's Air Chief Marshals - well, I say that; I don't actually know which of them has superiority over the other - is a miniature poodle belonging to the Crown Prince of Thailand. This is according to one of the Wikileaks cables, in this case from former US ambassador Ralph Boyce, who went on to describe his own leaving do: 

“Foo Foo was present at the event, dressed in formal evening attire complete with paw mitts, and at one point during the band’s second number, he jumped up on to the head table and began lapping from the guests’ water glasses, including my own. The Air Chief Marshal’s antics drew the full attention of the 600-plus audience members, and remains the talk of the town to this day.”

Foo Foo has, in fact, previously been in the news: in 2009, when a video leaked of a lavish birthday party the Prince threw for him, during which he required his wife, Her Royal Highness Princess Consort Srirasmi, to be topless throughout.

It is a crime in Thailand to make any criticism of the actions of the Royal Family. You can see why it would have to be.

When paleontologists grow whimsical.

Here are the dinosaur names I have most enjoyed today.

Bambiraptor.

Named after Bambi; because it's small, long-legged and 'cute'.

Qantassaurus.

Named after the national airline of Australia. (And cuter than the Bambiraptor, for my money, but that might just be the expression this artist has given it.)

Irritator

The only extant fossil of this dinosaur is a skull which the paleontologists who classified it eventually discovered had been doctored with plaster by the fossil-dealer in an effort to make it seem more impressive, and therefore valuable. Hence the name:  "from irritation, the feeling the authors felt (understated here) when discovering that the snout had been artificially elongated."

And my favourite - because sometimes the well of inspiration simply runs dry:

Megapnosaurus

From the Greek, meaning 'Big Dead Lizard'.

If it turns out there's such a thing as a Trisketiger, I'll reconsider.

Today, I noticed that there is a village on the Isle of Man called Kirk Michael. The island's capital, of course, is Douglas.

Also, I learnt that the motto of the Isle of Man is 'Whithersoever you throw it, it will stand', referring to the emblem on their flag, the triskelion.

I have two things to say about this. Firstly, I'm pretty sure that a more accurate, if less rousing, motto would be 'Whithersoever you throw it, it will fall on its side'. Secondly, of the two new words I've learnt today, 'triskelion' is good, but 'whithersoever' is great. 

Cats at sea

The Royal Navy used to actively encourage its ships to adopt a ship's cat, believing they were good for morale and vermin control, though sadly since 1975 they have been forbidden.

- Simon, ship's cat of the HMS Amethyst, was wounded by shrapnel in the Yangtze Incident of 1948. In recognition of his valour, he was awarded three medals, and promoted to the rank of Able Seacat.

- Oscar was rescued from the wreckage of the German battleship Bismarck by the HMS Cossack. They adopted him as their ship's cat, until, five months later, the Cossack too was sunk. Oscar survived, and was transferred to the HMS Ark Royal... which was sunk two weeks later. This time, Oscar was found clinging to a floating board 'angry, but quite unharmed.' He was renamed 'Unsinkable Sam', and retired to Belfast, where he eventually died, ten years after the end of the war, of old age.

- Beauty, ship's cat of the HMS Black Prince, was present at the Normandy landings, during which she occupied herself giving birth to three kittens.

- Unusually, the gunship HMSGB-7 was never named, and nor was its cat, who was known as 'TBC'. Which stood for 'That Bloody Cat'.

- In 1924, the HMS Hood did not have a ship's cat. It had Joey... the ship's wallaby.