The term “pipe dream” may sound like the title of a Blue Man Group song or what the Nintendo character Mario thinks about while he’s sleeping, but according to Merriam-Webster, it refers to “an illusory or fantastic plan, hope, or story.” Let’s say that someone who has never been in a movie wants to earn fame as an Oscar-winning actor, or someone who has never played a sport has dreams of being an all-star athlete. While both of these goals are possible, they’re also improbable, and are thus considered pipe dreams.
Advertisement
This turn of phrase originated in the late 19th century, though at the time, it had a provocative connotation. It came from the dreamlike state people would fall into after smoking an opium pipe (the 1800s version of opiates). People who smoked opium often experienced hallucinations, and the thoughts in that trance were called “pipe dreams.”
The first-known usage of this phrase in print is in the 1870 bookTales of Life and Death by Grantley F. Berkeley, when a feverish character recalls “last night’s pipe-dream.” Skipping into the mainstream just a few decades later, in 1890, theChicago Daily Tribune reported how aerial navigation “has been regarded as a pipe-dream for a good many years.” However, in this case, the pipe dream became a reality with the Wright brothers’ first flight at Kitty Hawk in 1903.
Today, the term rarely refers to drug use, as many countries around the world have long outlawed opium. Instead, “pipe dream” is simply an expression of the unlikely hope that someone’s far-fetched dreams will come true. However, stranger things have happened, and it’s sometimes worth keeping a cherished pipe dream alive.
Featured image credit: Bjoern Wylezich/ Shutterstock
Bennett Kleinman is a New York City-based staff writer for Optimism. He is also a freelance comedy writer, devoted New York Yankees and New Jersey Devils fan, and thinks plain seltzer is the best drink ever invented.
To older generations, younger generations often sound like they’re speaking an alien tongue. “Skibidi” could very well be the name of a far-off planet, while “delulu” could be the name of a comet streaking through the sky. (The former is a Generation Alpha nonsense word that comes from internet memes, and the latter is Generation Z’s way of saying “delusional.”) But some terms have transcended the generational divides. Take, for example, “rizz,” which is such a popular slang term that the Oxford University Press named it the 2023 word of the year. If you missed this word’s rise to the top, we’ll explain. It’s a shortened version of a familiar word: “charisma. “Rizz” is pulled from the middle syllable of “charisma,” much like “flu” is part of “influenza.”
Advertisement
Oxford’s honor has seemingly given license for the mainstream to use “rizz,” but it started in the Gen Z lexicon. If a Gen Zer (someone born between 1997 and 2012) claims that someone has rizz, it’s a pretty major compliment, as they’re suggesting that a person is stylish and charming. “Rizz” is often used specifically in the context of attracting romantic partners. Often, having rizz transcends physical appearance, as a person with rizz is said to be more successful at dating people who would normally be deemed “out of their league.”
This catchy word’s popularity soared in 2022, thanks in part to internet streamer Kai Cenat, who used it during Twitch broadcasts. (Twitch is a streaming platform often used for video games.) Usage of “rizz” exploded from there, and soon it was everywhere on TikTok and spreading far beyond high school cafeterias and Gen Z exchanges. What youthful slang will we adopt from Gen Z (or even Gen Alpha) next?
Bennett Kleinman is a New York City-based staff writer for Optimism. He is also a freelance comedy writer, devoted New York Yankees and New Jersey Devils fan, and thinks plain seltzer is the best drink ever invented.
The nicknames for sandwiches are almost as numerous as the toppings they can be served with. Let’s dish up some of America’s favorite regional sandwich slang.
Walking up to the deli counter is a lot like an artist approaching a blank canvas — there are few limits to your creativity. But whether you’re the Picasso of provolone or the Caravaggio of cured meats, there are so many names for sandwiches, you might freeze when your number is called. The general term “sandwich” originated in 1762, as an eponym referring to John Montagu, the Fourth Earl of Sandwich, who enjoyed eating meat between sliced bread during his marathon gambling sessions. In the late 19th century, Italian-inspired sandwiches made with long pieces of bread became particularly popular throughout the United States. These were known as “submarine” sandwiches to many, though various regions have developed their own slang for these tasty lunchtime staples. Here are the backstories behind a few of those terms.
Advertisement
Submarine
The term “submarine” is perhaps the most widely used sandwich slang in the U.S., at least according to a Harvard Dialect Survey. The origins of this term are simple: The long pieces of bread resemble the shape of a submarine boat. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the first usage of this slang dates to 1931 in the Paterson Evening News, and delis across the country began advertising “subs” soon after.
Grinder
“Grinder” is common sandwich slang among residents of New England. The roots of this term are disputed, but one origin story is nautical in nature: “Grinders” was a term used to refer to the Italian American dockworkers who enjoyed snacking on these long sandwiches during their lunch hour. However, a more probable origin story has to do with the nature of the food itself. “Grinder” might refer to the act of grinding your teeth to bite into the thick bread and copious amounts of cold cuts loaded onto the sandwich.
Advertisement
Hoagie
As we descend down the Northeast Corridor, we arrive in Philadelphia, where the term “hoagie” was conceived. One of the prevailing origin stories for this word is also nautical in nature: There was a World War I-era shipyard in south Philly called Hog Island, where workers enjoyed eating “hoggies” — a name that evolved into “hoagie.” Another, perhaps more reputable origin story is that the name originated in the 1930s at a sandwich shop owned by jazz musician Al DePalma. He made sandwiches so large that a friend commented that only a hog could finish one. In turn, DePalma began calling the sandwiches “hoggies,” though his customers pronounced them more like “hoagies” (which makes sense if you imagine “hoggie” said with a thick Philly accent).
Hero
The term “hero sandwich” is primarily used around New York City. In the 1930s, Clementine Paddleford — food columnist for the New York Herald Tribune — wrote about a sandwich so large that “you had to be a hero to eat it.” From there, the name “hero” stuck.
Wedge
“Wedge” is a hyperspecific slang term used by residents of Westchester County, New York, and nearby Fairfield County, Connecticut. Some say “wedge” refers to the diagonal knife cut made in the middle of the sandwich, while others claim it’s tied to wedging all of the ingredients between two slices of bread. Still others assert that the term was coined at Landi’s Deli in the town of Yonkers. “Wedge” — or a similar sound — was purportedly used by the Landi family as a truncated version of the word “sandwich.”
Spukie
“Spukie” is a Boston-area term based on the Italian word spuccadella, which is a long roll. This is particularly popular in the Italian-heavy neighborhoods in the southern part of the city, and you’re unlikely to hear “spukie” from anyone outside of Boston.
Poor Boy
“Poor boy” is the longer nickname for the sandwich also known as a “po’boy.” The poor boy sandwich originated in 1929 during a streetcar strike in New Orleans. It was created at Martin Brothers’ French Market and Coffee Stand, whose proprietors were former streetcar workers themselves. Whenever a striking worker entered the eatery, one owner would call out to another, “Here comes another poor boy!” The term was quickly adopted by the residents of New Orleans and shortened to just “po’boy.” A New Orleans-style po’boy can have any variety of fillings (fried shrimp and fried oysters are popular), and fully dressed includes lettuce, tomato, pickles, hot sauce, and mayo. The crucial ingredient, however, is the bread. To qualify as a po’boy, the sandwich must be served on fresh French bread.
Bennett Kleinman is a New York City-based staff writer for Optimism. He is also a freelance comedy writer, devoted New York Yankees and New Jersey Devils fan, and thinks plain seltzer is the best drink ever invented.
Why do actors tell each other to break bones before a performance? It’s not malicious — the idiom “break a leg” has roots going back to ancient Greece.
Telling someone to “break a leg” is another way of saying “good luck” — unless they’re especially clumsy, in which case we’d suggest an idiom that’s less likely to jinx them. You may wonder, though, how a phrase that sounds so menacing on the surface can have such a positive connotation. While the origins are murky, there are a few popular theories behind why we say “break a leg” as an encouraging expression.
Advertisement
The most common belief is that the phrase originated in the theatrical community, which is known for its superstitions. Actors worry that the simplest thing can bring about bad luck, such as saying “Macbeth” in a theater (it’s called “The Scottish Play” instead), whistling backstage, or, indeed, wishing a fellow performer “good luck.” Instead, many actors use the term “break a leg” as an ironic way of wishing other actors well. The exact start of this practice is unknown, but it was noted in a 1921 edition of TheNew Statesman in an essay called “A Defence of Superstition” by Irish writer Robert Wilson Lynd. He said the best way to wish luck was through an opposite sentiment, such as saying, “May you break a leg.”
Another purported, albeit unlikely, origin story involves audience reactions to live performances in both ancient Greece and the Elizabethan era. The Greeks were said to stomp their feet instead of clapping, while Elizabethans would bang their chairs on the ground to express praise. Ferocious stomping meant they enjoyed the performance all the more. So, people may have begun saying “break a leg” in the hopes of generating a response powerful enough to risk snapping both human and chair legs.A nontheatrical origin story involves the German phrase Hals- und Beinbruch! — literally translated as “may you break your neck and your leg!” The Oxford English Dictionary cites this use around 1900 in a hunting context, then 1913 in a theatrical context, but lexicographers note there’s not a strong connection for influence on the English idiom and theatrical usage.
Bennett Kleinman is a New York City-based staff writer for Optimism. He is also a freelance comedy writer, devoted New York Yankees and New Jersey Devils fan, and thinks plain seltzer is the best drink ever invented.
“Something wicked this way comes…” Shakespeare transformed Elizabethan ideas of ghosts, witches, and other spooky beings into perpetual Halloween traditions.
Halloween entertainment is brimming with images of warty witches and bubbling cauldrons (we love the Sanderson sisters in Hocus Pocus), and ghosts both friendly and not haunt our dreams and our screens throughout spooky season. (Uttering the name of a certain green-haired ghost — Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice… Beetlejuice! — might send chills down your spine.) But otherworldly beings began captivating audiences long before blockbuster films offered thrills and chills. Let’s go back to a time when a certain English playwright was transforming ghoulish stereotypes onstage. Over 400 years ago, Shakespeare unwittingly crafted several Halloween traditions that still haunt us today.
Advertisement
Wicked Witches
“Double, double toil and trouble; / Fire burn and caldron bubble…”
You might be able to chant this eerie couplet from memory without realizing it came from the Bard. It appeared in Macbeth Act IV, the “Song of the Witches.” In addition to providing these spooky lines, this section contributes much to our modern interpretation of witches.
Macbeth’s titular character receives a shocking prophecy from three witches: He will become king of Scotland. The 17th-century play was published around the height of Scotland’s devastating witch trials, so it makes sense that Macbeth’s downfall was initiated by a chance encounter with three “Weyward Sisters.” Many editions call them “Weird Sisters,” but the meaning of “weird” is not as we use it today as a synonym for “odd” or “quirky.” Instead, “weird” is a synonym for “supernatural” or “otherworldly.”
Shakespeare transformed the imagery of witches through their depiction in Macbeth. The witch trials (in Scotland and in the colonies) stoked fears that witches were hiding as everyday women, casting spells in the midst of the community. The Weird Sisters are humanlike, but their physical appearance is chilling and sinister, with deep wrinkles of the “chappy finger.” The “Song of the Witches” passage also introduced the imagery of a bubbling caldron, to which the sisters add “Eye of newt and toe of frog, / Wool of bat and tongue of dog, / Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting, / Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing…” Believed by some to be a real spell, these verses left a lasting impact on the perception of how witches cast spells and the unsavory objects they use to do so.
Shakespeare’s witchy imagery is far-reaching. Consider: “By the pricking of my thumbs / Something wicked this way comes…” Said by the second witch in Macbeth, this famous phrase refers to the old-fashioned superstition of tucking the thumb into the palm to protect against supernatural entities. Like so many Shakespearean lines, it has become a stand-alone expression. Author Ray Bradbury borrowed part of it for the title of his 1962 dark fantasy novel, Something Wicked This Way Comes.
Advertisement
Owls and Omens
Owls were a symbol of wisdom and prophecy in ancient Greece, but their benign reputations darkened in Renaissance England. The association with prophecy took on sinister undertones, and according to the Bard of Avon, these birds of prey are nefarious.
Owls (or “howlets” as they are called in the “Song of the Witches”) are harbingers of bad luck in many of Shakespeare’s works. The owl plays a vital role as an evil omen in Macbeth: “It was the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman, / Which gives the stern’st good-night. He is about it.” The “fatal bellman” is a reference to the custom of a “passing bell” to ring when someone in town was close to death.
Similarly, in Act IV of Richard III, when the titular character receives bad news on the battlefield, he exclaims, “Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death.” Thus, owls’ close association with death was firmly established.
Ghastly Ghosts
Shakespeare pushed the ghostly envelope and changed the way people imagine spirit apparitions. In pre-Elizabethan literature, ghosts were typically described as orbs of light without a discernible shape — and certainly no human characteristics. Shakespeare’s ghosts were markedly different. For the first time, spirits were purported to appear much like their previous human forms.
Characters such as Brutus, Macbeth, Hamlet, and Richard III are plagued by these familiar spirits. Imagery of ghosts lurking about a graveyard in A Midsummer Night’s Dream or shrieking through the streets in Julius Caesar created new ideas of what ghosts ought to be. InJulius Caesar, the famous Roman general’s ghost appears in his likeness, immediately recognizable to startled characters. “The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me / Two several times by night — at Sardis once…”
Perhaps the most influential Shakespearean ghost is Hamlet’s father, who directs Hamlet to avenge his murder by killing his uncle, Claudius. The ghost reveals himself to his son in Act I ofHamlet:
“I am thy father’s spirit, / Doomed for a certain term to walk the night / And for the day confined to fast in fires / Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature / Are burnt and purged away…”
Had Hamlet’s father appeared as an orb of light and not a king suited in armor, would it have had such a profound impact on audiences — or the plot? Likely not. Shakespeare crafted his supernatural characters so compellingly that over 400 years later, we still imagine them in much the same way he did.
Rachel is a Washington, D.C.-based freelance writer. When she's not writing, you can find her wandering through a museum, exploring a new city, or advocating the importance of the Oxford comma.
Halloween parties give even the most timid wallflower a chance to put on a new persona and become the life of the party. Between the “Monster Mash” and the costume contests lies the art of good (spooky) conversation. Brush up on these chilling words and their histories so you can impress the witches, zombies, and superheroes alike with your knowledge of the language of Halloween.
Advertisement
Haunt
The verb “haunt” might call to mind a crumbling mansion with ghosts and evil spirits wandering cobwebbed hallways. But for centuries, “haunt” was more neutral, and implied just visiting a place often. Around the 1500s, the ghostly connotation crept in, and “haunt” began to reference distress and harm. A nice walk through a haunted house on Halloween is just what the mad scientist ordered.
Ghost
The word “ghost” has been in use for at least a thousand years, and as a noun it originally referred to someone’s vital spark or intelligence. Eventually the usage morphed into the souls of the dead. The Old English spelling was both gost and gast (the root of “ghastly”), but it turned into “ghost” by the end of the 16th century. This was also when the usage as a spiritual soul of someone, distinct from the physical nature, came into use. The usage of “ghost” to mean “an apparition, a spectre, a phantom, often haunting a specific location” has been in use since at least the 12th century, but it was not the primary usage until a few centuries ago.
The most modern usage of “ghosting” refers to disappearing from someone’s life (usually romantic relationships) without a trace, but the word has been used as a verb for centuries. In the 17th century, Shakespeare used “ghosted” in Julius Caesar to describe Brutus hanging around a location. Another usage, going back to the 17th century, uses “ghost” to refer to someone being an annoying presence. A more modern usage refers to smooth, gliding movement, perhaps in the manner of a ghost. A 2020 Guardian article referenced an athlete as such: “He dribbled past five England players before ghosting away from Shilton.”
If you spot a specter draped in a sheet at your Halloween party, charm them with your etymological knowledge of this ancient term.
Advertisement
Vampire
The myth of the bloodthirsty undead preying on the living dates back to ancient Greece, meaning it’s older than the word to refer to the aforementioned undead, “vampire.” The original name of the creepy creature came from Eastern Europe, where Serbian stories about the vampir were popular in the early 18th century. “Vampire” was popularized in English through late 19th-century Gothic novels (Dracula by Bram Stoker was published in 1897) and has been sucking our blood ever since. The “vampire” bat moniker was given to a species of South American bloodsucking bat by a biologist in 1774, and the term “vamp,” referring to a seductive woman, was coined in the early 20th century.
Banshee
Originally a Gaelic word meaning “woman of the fairyland,” this fanciful term acquired a dark turn through its lore. In legends, banshees are the spirits of women who scream outside the windows of doomed households. If you heard one wail, you would know someone in your home would die before daybreak.
Advertisement
Goblin
Over the centuries, “goblin” has come to represent a creature more mischievous than monstrous. The word comes either from the Greek kobalos, which is a mischievous sprite, or the German Kobold, which is a spirit that haunts houses and lives underground in caves or mines. The goblin representation in myths and literature exists anywhere on the scale from playful and full of pranks, to ugly yet harmless, to menacingly evil.
Specter
Meaning “a visible disembodied spirit,” the word “specter” is rooted in the Latin spectrum, which means “image or apparition.” The verb form is specere, which means “to look.” Many English words pertaining to appearance have come from the same verb: “spectacle,” “inspect,” and “conspicuous,” to name a few. Specters can also be ghostly, fearsome visions conjured by the imagination. Or are those just Halloween decorations?
Wraith
Historically, a wraith is the replica of a living person appearing as a specter to foreshadow something bad, like that person’s death. (The wraith might also appear directly after someone’s death.) An old synonym for the ghostly appearance of a living person is “doppelgänger,” but now this German loanword is more commonly used for someone who looks exactly like another individual. Perhaps you’ll find your doppelgänger at a party if you dress up as Carmy from The Bear or the witch Agatha Harkness.
Ghoul
Although it shares letters with the Old English words ghost and ghastly, “ghoul” didn’t enter the language until the 1700s. The word was introduced to the West by the translation of One Thousand and One Nights (sometimes known as Arabian Nights) into French. In the book, the Arabic word ġūl was used to describe an evil being who robbed graves and ate corpses.
Jennifer A. Freeman is the Senior Editor of Word Smarts and Word Daily. When she's not searching for a perfect synonym or reaching "Genius" level on Spelling Bee, she's playing with her Welsh Terrier in Greenville, SC.
It’s the time of year when doorsteps are decorated with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs, and shopping carts fill with candy in preparation for trick-or-treaters. While American children and adults embrace the modern Halloween spirit, the roots of ghostly words come from cultures around the world. Get into the Halloween spirit with these spooktacular words.
Advertisement
What Goes Bump in the Night?
Ghosts go by many names. In English, “phantasm” means “a figment of the imagination,” but in Spanish, fantasma refers to a ghost, and in Haitian-Creole, the spooky figure is a fantom. Maybe they’re all figments of the imagination, but they’re easy to find in fictional stories. Ghosts can be portrayed as kind as Casper, or as more malevolent. In Germany, a Poltergeist will make a noisy entrance by moving objects around a room; in Northern England, the boisterous creatures are called “boggarts.”
The word “zombie” has a few possible origins: Jumbie is the West Indian word for “ghost,” and Nzambi is the supreme deity (and ruler of death) in Kongo spirituality. The Haitian-Creole dialect also has zombi, which has roots in Haitian vodou folklore. Unlike in modern zombie stories, which often employ technology or a virus to create the undead, a bokor (a sorcerer) could create a zombie by controlling an individual’s spirit. (They were actually anesthetizing and paralyzing people through animal- and plant-derived neurotoxins.) While the word “zombie” may come from distinct cultures, it was the 1968 movie Night of the Living Dead that popularized the modern idea of an undead creature who moves robotically and seeks human flesh.
Advertisement
For other creatures of the night, multiple languages use similar words to identify them. Both Hungarian and German use vampir/Vampir to describe bloodsucking monsters, and the French use vampyre. And while many languages have versions of “werewolf”(or werwolf), Spanish-speaking countries know these creatures as hombre-lobos. Portuguese speakers call them lobisomem.
Cryptid Sightings
Cryptids, or creatures that science hasn’t been able to prove exist, go by many different names around the world. Perhaps the most famous example is the Scottish “Nessie,” the Loch Ness monster. Said to resemble a dinosaur with a long neck, it supposedly has flippers and can breathe underwater. Written references and supposed Nessie sightings date back to the seventh century. But Scotland isn’t the only country to have a lake monster legend. Argentina has Nahuelito, supposedlyliving in the Patagonian Mountains, with the same features as Nessie, down to the long neck.
Legends talk of cryptids on dry land. Bigfoot (also known as Sasquatchin Canada and the yetiin the Himalayas) is described as at least 8 feet tall and covered in hair — possibly half man, half ape.
Then there are regionally specific cryptids, such as the Jersey Devil,which comes from colonial New Jersey lore. Described as having horse hooves and the wings of a bat, the Jersey Devil popped up in stories when Deborah Leeds gave birth to her 13th child in the early 1700s and claimed that the baby was a child of the devil. Since then, countless New Jerseyans swear they’ve spotted the creature across the state.
Whether scientists back up the folklore or not, Halloween will likely bring many ghosts, zombies, werewolves, and Bigfoots to your doorstep — if only for trick-or-treating.
Jennifer A. Freeman is the Senior Editor of Word Smarts and Word Daily. When she's not searching for a perfect synonym or reaching "Genius" level on Spelling Bee, she's playing with her Welsh Terrier in Greenville, SC.
Why Do We Say “Graveyard Shift” and “Skeleton in the Closet”?
Ghoulish figures have a place in our lexicon year-round, in frightening expressions such as “graveyard shift,” “skeleton staff,” “skeleton in the closet,” and other similar turns of phrase.
Spooky season is in full swing, and it’s the perfect time to scare yourself silly by watching your favorite horror flicks again and again. But gothic imagery and ghoulish figures have a place in our lexicon year-round, in frightening expressions such as “graveyard shift,” “skeleton staff,” “skeleton in the closet,” and other similar turns of phrase.
Advertisement
The term “graveyard shift” is another way to say “night shift,” referring to an overnight job during the quietest and darkest hours of the day. People often work the graveyard shift alone, surrounded by silence and darkness. The idiom was first seen in print in an 1897 article in The Salt Lake Tribune: “The police changed shifts for the month yesterday. This month Sergeant Ware takes the morning relief. Sergeant Matt Rhodes the middle and Sergeant John Burbidge the graveyard shift.” The word “graveyard” in this context is deeply evocative of the eerie feeling you may get while working solo.
“Skeleton staff” is defined as “the smallest number of people needed for a business or organization to operate” — it has nothing to do with dapper skeletons in suits and ties. The phrase relates to the skeletal structure’s basic function of support for the rest of the body. While one of the earliest mentions of a “skeleton staff” dates to a 1925 article in Strand Magazine, similar phrases meaning “in the nature of a skeleton” have existed for centuries. Alexander Hamilton wrote about the “skeleton state of our regiments” in a 1778 letter that discussed imperfections within the U.S. military at the time.The phrase “skeleton in the closet,” meanwhile, originates from across the pond, with the Anatomy Act of 1832. This piece of legislation allowed British doctors to acquire dead bodies (often criminals) for research. Doctors would often keep the skeletons, perhaps tucked away in a closet, for further anatomical study. Though less literal, and much less morbid, having a skeleton in the closet today means having some embarrassing baggage you’d rather keep private.
Bennett Kleinman is a New York City-based staff writer for Optimism. He is also a freelance comedy writer, devoted New York Yankees and New Jersey Devils fan, and thinks plain seltzer is the best drink ever invented.
Why Do We Call Someone Who Takes Risks a Daredevil?
Daredevils (stuntmen, thrill seekers, and swashbucklers) have been called many things, but they surely aren’t evil. Where did this compound word come from?
The year was 1966, and a soon-to-be-famous Evel Knievel had a plan to drum up business for his motorcycle shop in Moses Lake, Washington: He’d jump his motorcycle over 40 parked cars, some rattlesnakes, and a caged cougar. He didn’t quite make the jump — he landed in the pile of rattlesnakes — but somehow he escaped unscathed, and a star was born. Most called him crazy, some called him a genius, but everyone called him a “daredevil.”
Advertisement
Renowned daredevil Evel Knievel lived up to the title. When used as a noun, a daredevil is a “recklessly bold person,” and when used as an adjective, “daredevil” describes the “recklessly and often ostentatiously daring.” “Daredevil” first appeared in English in the late 18th century, in the writings of English poet and satirist John Wolcot. The term spread quickly, likely due to the popularity of circus performers. In the burgeoning industrial world, entertainment-based daredevils were more popular than ever, whether walking on high wires, jumping bicycles through flaming hoops, or going over Niagara Falls in barrels. However, circus performers and thrill seekers aren’t devilish or sinister, so why is the word “devil” used in this fashion?
Etymologists say it isn’t about labeling the person a devil, but “one who dares the devil.” A similar word formation is seen in “scarecrow.” The field-dwelling decoy isn’t a bird, but it scares birds away. In other words, it’s “one who scares crows.” “Pickpocket” was formed this way, too, as in “one who picks pockets,” or someone who steals. So, the masses weren’t calling daredevil Evel Knievel evil. Although, Robert Knievel did legally change his first name to “Evel,” so we doubt he’d mind the sinister connotation.
Featured image credit: PeopleImages Yuri A/ Shutterstock
Rachel is a Washington, D.C.-based freelance writer. When she's not writing, you can find her wandering through a museum, exploring a new city, or advocating the importance of the Oxford comma.
The Jackson 5 had an undeniable influence on pop culture, but while audiences were swooning, they were also learning classroom fundamentals with the hit song “ABC.” We hear one of the most famous mnemonic devices in English in the song’s opening lines: You went to school to learn, girl / Things you never knew before / Like “I” before “E” except after “C” / And why two plus two makes four… This elementary edict of “I” before “E” except after “C” sticks in our collective memory, thanks in part to one of the most popular songs of the 1970s, but it doesn’t always hold true.
Advertisement
There is no blanket English grammar rule — everything has exceptions, and this spelling rule is no different. The rule best applies to French-derived words with the /ē/ sound, such as “grief” and “relief.” This fulfills the first half of the guideline, and then words such as “receive,” “deceit,” and “receipt” fulfill the second half — “except after ‘C.’”
Here’s where things get iffy. There are many words that put “E” before “I” without a “C.” Some of these words, such as “eight,” “weigh,” and “sleigh,” have Old English origins. However, it’s often impossible to guess a word’s origin on sight, so this isn’t a reliable method for spelling rules. An extended version of the jingle attempts to account for this spelling: “I” before “E” except after “C” or when sounding like “A” as in “neighbor” and “weigh.” Surely this improved version is a guaranteed path to flawless spelling, right? Not quite.
Don’t forget about words such as “weird,” “glacier,” “fancier,” “seizure,” “science,” and “ancient.” It turns out “ei” and “ie” make a lot of different sounds when paired together. Instead of memorizing a pithy rhyme with lots of exceptions, it can be more helpful to understand how pronunciation affects spelling. In English, the combination “ei” can make the sounds /ā/ (as in “vein”), /ē/ (as in “protein”), and /ī/ (as in “Fahrenheit”). When the letters “ie” follow a “c,” they can be split into two syllables, as in “sci-ence,” or the “cie” can make a “shh” sound, such as “ancient” or “efficient.”However, even pronunciation rules have caveats, and teaching grade school kids this method can be confusing. The mnemonic device is a logical development.
As it turns out, implementing “I” before “E” except after “C” is not “as easy as 1, 2, 3.” It can be a useful tool for spelling basic English words, such as the phrase “a piece of cake,” but the full rule (along with its pitfalls) is much more complicated.
Rachel is a Washington, D.C.-based freelance writer. When she's not writing, you can find her wandering through a museum, exploring a new city, or advocating the importance of the Oxford comma.
Enter your email to receive daily lessons that dive into what makes English so fascinating. Each email is packed with odd rules, etymologies, and the tools you need to be a better communicator.
Sorry, your email address is not valid. Please try again.
Sorry, your email address is not valid. Please try again.
