By and Large


Here are three sentences pulled semi-randomly off Google, all using the expression ‘by and large’.

  • By and large they are a group of passionate cyclists who take pride in building some darn good mountain bikes!
  • By and large they are looking for answers to the wrong question.
  • By and large, life has been pretty sweet for the baby boomer generation.

The meaning is well-known to most English speakers —  on the whole, in general. The original meaning comes from the nautical world and describes two points of sail for a sailing vessel moving with respect to the wind. ‘Large’ refers to the wind coming from behind the boat, and so it would be pushing the boat forward. ‘By’ refers to the wind coming toward the front of the boat.  Early sailing ships could sail ‘by’ the wind, but only a few degrees above where the wind came straight across the side of the vessel. Modern sailboats with evolved sail shapes and rigging can sail ‘by’ the wind many more degrees above where the wind comes straight across the side of the vessel. They can ‘point’ much higher into the wind than the 17th-century square riggers. But, the early vessels could (and did) sail by the wind to the extent of their capabilities.  At that time, if a sailor described a boat as handling well ‘by and large’,  he was describing a sailing vessel’s performance under its two opposite endpoints of wind direction — not the general attribute  of simply ‘most of the time’ or ‘for the most part’.

The above examples illustrate how a word or phrase can shift its meaning over time from a concrete sense to an abstract one.  Here’s one more example for now. (There are many, many fascinating cases to look into.)

The verb ‘depend’ (rely on, require, need) has an archaic usage which is more concrete, it means to be physically attached to and dangling down from something, as in

  • Silk tassels were depending from the lower circumference of the lamp shade.
  • Their tongues depended from their mouths as they struggled up the hill in the heat of the tropical sun.

The current usage of ‘depend’ still implies a connection between things, but it is social or causal in an abstract way, not hanging by means of an immediate physical attachment.

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Simply Gibberish


‘To speak gibberish’ usually means to be saying (or writing) something unintelligible or nonsensical. It’s not a flattering attribution. However, there is a word game, actually a whole family of word games, referred to as Gibberish. Many people know Pig Latin whose word-formation rules are basically:

  • for words that begin with a consonant (or consonant cluster), move it/them to the end and add the suffix -ay
  • for words that begin with a vowel, end the word with the suffix -way
  • for compound words, factor according to their components

Jane ate a chocolate ice cream cone in the schoolyard  –>  Anejay ateway away ocolatechay iceway eamcray onecay inway ethay oolschayardyay

In one ‘dialect’ of Gibberish (there are many variants) the infix -idig- is inserted after each syllable of a word. Notice we’re getting a bit trickier than Pig Latin, where you only make one insertion per word unit. The rules for -idig- Gibberish are:

  • insert -idig- after the initial consonant or consonant cluster of the syllable
  • insert -idig- before the syllable, if the syllable starts with a vowel
  • follow the rule for consonants if the syllable begins with ‘y’ or ‘w’

Here are some examples to get you going.

  • ball –> bidigall
  • tree –> tridigee
  • purple –> pidigurpidigle
  • waveform –> widigavefidigorm
  • or –> idigor
  • antelope –> idigantidigelidigope
  • yellow –> yidigellidigow

Getting the hang of it? Well then, let’s have a little fun. Translate the following sentences back into standard English.

  • Idigit widigas idigaa pidigurpidigle pidigeopidigle idigeatidiger.
  • Idiganyidigidigone idigon twidigittidiger idigusidiging gidigibbidigeridigish?
  • Whidigat’s fidigor didiginnidiger?
  • Idigextridiga pidigicklidiges idigand hidigold thidige midigayidigo, plidigease.
  • Tidigo bidige idigor nidigot tidigo bidige: thidigat idigis thidige quidigestidigion.

Answers will be posted tomorrow. 🙂

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The Age of Peccaries


Leave it to a computer to rub our noses in the nitty-gritty of semantics. Mostly, as we go about our day, we toss out words and sentences to our fellow language speakers and communication takes place, more or less. Building all this rich linguistic environment into a machine is notoriously difficult and fraught with unintended consequences. I’ll share a few such examples from the domain of morphology, or the word-building component, for one real natural language understanding system. This system is no word-stemming toy that merely lops the ends off words and hopes something useful is left to work with. No, it’s rich with a full dictionary-sized vocabulary, with representations for the part of speech (am I a noun, verb, adjective or what),  and a rich set of affixes (prefixes and suffixes in English) and their meanings, sometimes multiple meanings for a given form. If you want to get practical work done, the system can be shown language samples and simply match the tokens in the sample to forms in the rich dictionary. If we find a match, we have the semantics, the meaning we need to understand the token. (Let’s ignore ambiguous meanings for the moment, which can muddy the waters considerably.)

But, suppose you want to explore the question of what it takes for a computer to learn new words that are not already in its dictionary, based on what it already knows.  One experiment to try would be to ‘turn off’ access to the dictionary and just let the computer work with its word-formation rules. This is interesting because it will shed light on how robust and accurate the system’s existing word-formation rules are, and where modifications might improve the system’s linguistic abilities. But, another interesting result of such an experiment is to highlight for us, who are the gold standard of our own human languages, some very plausible analyses of our own semantics that we probably have never considered until the alien mind of a cyber being churns them out, based on the only rules it has been given by us.

Consider the following, which are actual analyses given by the above-mentioned natural language understanding system, with its dictionary ‘off’ and only its word-formation rules available to it. (I should mention it actually succeeded in many, many accurate word analyses.)  The sentences are my effort to put the ‘new words’ into context. 🙂

caress   –>  car (noun)  + -ess (feminine suffix)  ‘a female car’   The tanks on the left at the gas station are for cars, the ones on the right are for caresses.

infantry  –>  infant (noun) + -ry (having to do with)  ‘all things infantile’  The infantry of their behavior after losing the game was ridiculous.

peridotite  –>  peridot (noun) + -ite (kind of person)  ‘a person made of olivine’  Last night we watched ‘Invasion of the Peridotites’ at the drive-in theater.

figurine  –>  fig (noun) + urine (noun)  compound: ‘fig excretion’  When the fruit becomes overripe it contains toxic levels of figurine.

address  –>  adder (noun – system inferred ‘add’ then ‘adder’) + -ess (that feminine suffix again!)  ‘a female adder’  The addresses outperformed the adders on four of the six general ledger tasks.

pigeon  –>  pig (noun) + eon (noun)  compound: ‘the age of peccaries’  The pigeon was characterized by lots of foraging and wallowing in the mud.

pigeonite  –>  pigeon (noun this time!)  + -ite (kind of person)   ‘pigeon-person’  Lately, the pigeonites have been crowding out the pigeons under the bridges in the park.

Note: the system knows two meanings for -ite (mineral, anthracite, pigeonite) and (kind of person, Hittite, socialite), but was favoring the second meaning in its analyses.

Isn’t it kind of amazing that we don’t stumble over our own semantic shoelaces more often?

Update:  Okay, one more.  cashier  –>  cash (noun) + -ier (comparative adjective form)  ‘possessing more cash’  (I was wrong to infer ‘more expensive’)  Mary’s new boyfriend is cashier than her former one.

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Twitter Syntax


What can be said in 140 characters? Apparently many, many things of interest, judging by the skyrocketing popularity of Twitter.  Both derided and adulated, Twitter is probably here to stay as a form of communication. People are communicating more and more through short, immediate digital messages via all sorts of new social media apps. (I could have written ‘applications’ but that sounds too formal, almost stuffy.) Short forms, nicknames, abbreviations are ubiquitous in writing today, and gaining acceptance. Is this a bad thing? I don’t think so, depending on how they are employed. For example, just in terms of spelling there are three kinds of ‘spelling alterations’ in these messages: 1) typos by fumbling fingers (can happen to anyone),  2) ignorant people who really can’t spell, and 3) savvy people who can spell, but are trying to pack stylish, informative messages into the character constraints. BTW, (it’s so natural to write that now, why bother with the heavy-footed ‘by the way’ which doesn’t add to the meaning), many people who can’t spell are still effective, engaging communicators with the digital short form.

So the 140 char constraint (did it again, ‘char’ not ‘character’) obviously has led to a more telegraphic, headline-style prose in the syntax of Twitter messages.  This is especially true for the big news providers who are trying to pull in audiences via Twitter. Their standard grammar is usually a brief headline ‘hook’ followed by a link (usually a short url to a full-blown website or blog).

Here’s a recent one from physorg.com, a science site.

physorg.com Relationship breakdown – the real cost http://bit.ly/bMDM14

It’s completely obvious to a reader what they should do for more information on this story — click the http link. For most readers, there is no useful information in the actual characters included in the url – less mental processing is required than if the reader read on a written page ‘go to page 9’. In that case, the reader has to turn pages, their eyes scanning for the character ‘9’. With links you just hit your finger on the ‘active text’ and that’s it.

Links, which we all take for granted now and depend on, have introduced a new dimension to linear writing. This fact has been noted by many for a long time, I wonder if we really understand how much (or how little) it may change basic phrase and sentence patterns of everyday written text.  There is another style even more link-oriented than the news type shown above; this other style is used when the messages are primarily social in nature.

A recent example from a fun person I follow on Twitter – I think she shows mastery of this second style.

ladyleet #startuplunch today, 12pm, sushi 85 in mountain view. come join! @t @r @y @m @0 etc

Hashtags, e.g., #startuplunch, are a powerful referential device in Twitter and eliminate the need for lengthy explanation. They point to topics or threads in Twitter where specific topics are under discussion.  The reader types in the hashtag and learns a number of things, who the participants are and whatever communications these participants felt was relevant to the topic at hand. Good style here means an informative hashtag. The one above describes itself succinctly. The ‘@’ list are the other participants (names shortened here for some sense of privacy) and the reader can find their Twitter profiles via the @name. Texting is not writing and it is not speech, it’s something in-between. It’s good that it has its own term, ‘texting’, and the ‘link’ dimension of this form of communication makes it incredibly versatile and powerful.

The interesting question is, given all the hours per day that we are engaged in this syntactic form of linked, telegraphic and participant-aware language, what’s the spill-over to other realms, e.g., full-blown blogs and printed magazines, fiction and non-fiction, the slang and styles we use when talking face to face?

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Is ‘coolth’ catching on?


The temperature is 90 F and rising. Seems like a good time to discuss ‘coolth’.  Just as we have ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ paired as opposites, and ‘warm’ and ‘cool’, we also have ‘warmth’ and ‘coolth’.  But, ‘coolth’  is used far less often than ‘warmth’ and retains a note of humor in its usage. Is it perceived as witty precisely because it is still a novel term, relative to the oh-so-commonplace ‘warmth’?  Is ‘the coolth of the evening’ more zippy than ‘the cool of the evening’?  My online dictionary cites an example illustrating that ‘coolth’ is not restricted wholly to temperature, but has adopted the metaphoric meaning of its cousin ‘cool’ conveying ‘hip, fashionable’ as in ‘the pinnacle of 1960s coolth’. What about metaphoric extensions to personality traits? How many times have we heard or read ‘the warmth of her smile’ or  ‘there was no warmth in his voice’.  Is ‘the coolth of her smile’ a little too awkward? I confess my own linguistic intuitions are feeling pretty comfortable with ‘there was a noticeable coolth in his tone during the speech.’  Or, perhaps it’s just the heat that is addling my brain. 🙂

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X + icon


Ever notice how easy it is to create new words in English with certain suffixes? Consider ‘marathon’ which actually was the name of an ancient Greek city and famous as the starting point for a runner who ran from there to Athens to announce a military victory. But in English the word ‘marathon’ now means a long race, and we have used the suffix to create ‘telethon’ and more humorously ‘begathon’ , ‘slogathon’, ‘blogathon’. How many others? What constrains the semantics, the range of meaning, for the newly coined terms?

We’re using the full word ‘icon’ as a suffix now in the digital world. We have emoticons (emotion + icon) and favicons (favorite + icon).  How productive is this trend? Will emoticons specialize into subcategories? Will people want to differentiate, say, ‘flamicons’  (angry, tirading images) from ‘atticons’ (thumbs up, praising as in ‘attaboy!’). What about ‘ravicons’? ‘Rave’ can imply very good or very bad, depending on the context. A ‘snoricon’ could express total boredom. We have avatars now, will we want ‘avacons’ or would it be ‘avicons’?  What function would such images serve that avatars don’t currently handle.  Have any good ones you’d like to share?

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Introduction to Word Travels


Welcome to Word Travels! This is a new blog devoted to the beauty, power, resilience, adaptability, and fun of language. Written language, spoken language, styles of language, where language has been and where it might be going. Please share your language stories, your puzzles and puns, your questions and reflections on how language is used around you.

I’m writing this in American English, and English is the means of communicating on this blog, but we won’t be restricted to observations about just English, or even just natural languages. Programming languages for computers have their own grammars and vocabularies and are related to each other in interesting ways.

Of special interest to me is the explosion of communication taking place through the vast ocean of digital media. I want to explore some aspects of this in more detail in coming posts. Please feel free to add your thoughts, and drop by any time!

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