Mack Daddy

Filed Under January 2007, columns | Leave a Comment

Hey fella, looking for a swim upstream?

Dear Word Detective: I’ve just discovered how hard it is to do your job. I know that the phrase “mack daddy” came originally from the word “mack,” meaning “pimp,” and that “mack” was short for “mackerel,” the fish. I also know that the word “mackerel” has been slang for “pimp” in other languages for a long time (e.g., French “maquereau”), but how did this rather innocuous-looking fish come to be associated with procurement and how did the word get into the English language? — Jackie.

Well, it wasn’t that hard until you came up with this question. This one gives me a headache.

“Mack daddy” is US slang, primarily in African-American use, currently used to mean a successful, influential and stylish man, especially one popular with women. It is true that “mack daddy” was formerly (and sometimes still is) understood to mean a prosperous pimp or other criminal. But usage has shifted over the past decade or so, and “mack daddy” (or “mac daddy”) is now often used as a more positive and generalized term, as in this citation from Ebony magazine in 1999: “[Comedian Chris] Rock … remembers … staying up late on school nights to watch the Tonight Show. ‘Especially when Bill Cosby used to host …,’ Rock says. ‘He was like so cool. He was a Mac Daddy back then.’”

The phrase “mack daddy” itself seems to date to the early 1950s, when an anonymously-composed song called “The Great MacDaddy” became popular in the African-American community. The element “daddy” is fairly straightforward, having originally been slang for “pimp” that later, like “mack daddy” itself, broadened into a more general term for a man with a commanding presence.

The “mack,” however, is where the headache comes in. It does appear to be short for “mackerel,” but the root of “mackerel” itself is in some dispute. And some fairly weird dispute at that. The standard theory suggests that the root of “mackerel” in French reflects an old Germanic word for “broker” or “pimp” because it was believed that the mackerel fish either has some odd reproductive habits itself or (I swear I am not making this up) assisted somehow in the reproductive antics of herring.

In any case, the French have been using their equivalent of “mackerel” to mean both the fish and a pimp for several centuries, and “mackerel,” which appeared in the “fish” sense in English in the 14th century, has also been used in the “procurer” sense in English since sometime in the 15th century.

 

 

Moil

Filed Under January 2007, columns | 1 Comment

Down and dirty.

Dear Word Detective: I was doing a crossword puzzle recently, and to my surprise the four-letter word for the clue “Works hard” turned out to be “moil,” a word that I was not familiar with. When I looked it up, this was one of the definitions listed (the other was “turmoil”). Apparently the origin of the word was the old French “moillier,” “moisten, paddle in mud,” from Latin “mollire,” “soften.” Do you have any idea how this word came to mean “hard work” in our muddled language? I realize that paddling in mud is not an easy task, but wonder if there was also some confusion with the similar word “toil.” — Michael Hooning, Seattle, Washington.

Indeed. Had I been doing that puzzle, I’d have been stumped as well, which is one reason why I gave up crosswords years ago. Even on those rare occasions when I emerged from one not feeling like an idiot, I always wondered why there wasn’t some sort of prize for finishing the thing. A free lottery ticket. A cupcake. Something.

In a perfectly logical language, “moil” would be related to “turmoil,” and probably to “toil” as well. After all, they rhyme, right? And “turmoil” actually has “moil” smack dab inside it. That should count for something. Unfortunately, English apparently didn’t get the memo, and all three words have their own unique origins.

“Turmoil,” meaning “a state of disturbance, commotion or agitation,” has a murky past, but the leading theory traces it to the French “trémie de moulin,” which is the hopper that holds the grain to be ground at a mill. Apparently the grain is stirred up in this process, making a plausible metaphor for any sort of disorder.

“Toil,” which first appeared in English in the 13th century with the meaning “to dispute or argue; to struggle,” has a remarkably similar origin. Its ultimate root is the Latin “tudicula,” a machine for crushing olives. From the original sense of a struggle between people, “toil” came to mean “struggle to make a living,” and finally simply “to labor very hard.”

“Moil” does indeed come originally from the Latin “molliere,” to soften, usually by moistening, also the root of “emollient.” An early meaning of “moil,” in the 16th century was “to make oneself wet and muddy,” presumably in the course of menial and unpleasant labor, the equivalent of “getting your hands dirty” today. The sense of “moil” meaning “turmoil or distress” apparently arose by a confused association with “turmoil” in the 16th century. In fact, the cross-pollination between the two unrelated words worked both ways. A sense of “turmoil” appeared about the same time with the meaning “to toil or drudge,” i.e., “to moil.”

 

 

Snollygoster & Snurge

Filed Under January 2007, columns | 1 Comment

Dethspicable.

Dear Word Detective: Can you say what “snollygoster” and “snurge” mean? — David.

Sure, no problem. A “snollygoster” is a person, most especially a politician, who is motivated in all things by personal ambition and greed rather than admirable principles of duty and self-sacrifice. Regarding politicians, that description is, of course, largely redundant, but while most politicians may be “snollygosters,” not all “snollygosters” are politicians. Many of them sell things on eBay, for instance.

A “snurge” is a despicable person, especially a sneaky little toady whose greatest joy comes from ratting out other people to the teacher, boss or other authority figure in order to curry favor with those in power. It seems reasonable to assume that (if they survive their childhoods) many “snurges” grow up to be “snollygosters.”

But while defining “snollygoster” and “snurge” is a piece of cake, determining their origins is a bit more difficult. “Snollygoster” is an American invention, first appearing in print, according to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), in the mid-19th century. The OED pegs the first appearance of “snurge” in print as being in 1933, but such slang terms are frequently commonly used in speech for years or even decades before they turn up in print. “Snurge” appears to be more commonly heard in the UK than in the US.

The most likely origin of “snollygoster” is another, very similar, word — “snallygaster.” From the German “schnelle (quick)” plus “geister (spirits),” a “snallygaster” was a mythical monster (a giant reptilian bird, according to one source) said, among residents of Maryland, to attack and eat livestock as well as the occasional child. Just how Maryland’s version of Rodan came to be associated with avaricious politicians is anyone’s guess, but the resemblance of “snollygoster” to “snallygaster” is too striking to ignore. There is a slight dating problem with this theory, in that “snallygaster” has (according to the OED) first been found in print in 1940 (versus 1846 for its presumptive descendant “snollygoster”), but it’s entirely plausible that the “snallygaster” had been used to cow disobedient children for at least 100 years before the word made it into print.

The origin of “snurge,” unfortunately, is more of a mystery. Perhaps influenced by “sneak,” it may well be onomatopoeic or “echoic,” invented as an unpleasant little word for a unpleasant little person. According to the eminent etymologist Eric Partridge, “snurge” dates to the 1920s and originally was used in England as slang for a workhouse for the poor, eventually becoming students’ and armed services slang for a “twerp.”

 

 

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