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Trivia

All contents herein (except the illustrations, which are in the public domain) are Copyright © 1995-2020 Evan Morris & Kathy Wollard. Reproduction without written permission is prohibited, with the exception that teachers in public schools may duplicate and distribute the material here for classroom use.

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Idiosyncrasy.

Walk this way.

Dear Word Detective: What is the history of the word “idiosyncrasy” — how did it come about? — Bear Mistel.

That’s a darn good question. By the way, you have a very cool name. I knew a guy named Tiger once, and years ago I worked with a fellow called Duck (although I’m not sure he knew we called him Duck). Of course, during the 1960s, everyone knew somebody named Raven Rainbow Moonwolf or the like, but most of those people have long since gone back to being Larry or Cynthia.

In a general sense, we use “idiosyncrasy” today to mean the particular likes and dislikes of a person or group, the quirks, tastes, preferences, prejudices and just plain weirdnesses that make up the human personality. An “idiosyncrasy” in this sense is, by definition, at least somewhat uncommon among the members of one’s peer group. Here in rural Ohio, for instance, most people would consider my affection for borscht (beet soup) an idiosyncrasy, but borscht is very popular in New York City. (Conversely, many New Yorkers would regard my Ohio neighbors’ devotion to sausage gravy as a symptom of insanity.) A personal “idiosyncrasy” can be nearly anything, but often involves an uncommon “fussiness” about something. A strong preference that one’s meat not touch one’s potatoes, for example, is a classic idiosyncrasy. In fact, food idiosyncrasies are mainstays of both family legends and folklore. I still remember a bit of doggerel I read when I was about ten that ran “I eat my peas with honey; I’ve done it all my life; It does taste kind of funny; But it keeps them on the knife.”

When “idiosyncrasy” first came into use in English in the 17th century, however, it was as a medical term meaning “the physical constitution of an individual,” the medically-relevant characteristics of a particular patient. This sense is now only used to mean a patient’s hypersensitivity to a drug or other treatment, e.g., an allergy to penicillin.

The roots of “idiosyncrasy” are Greek, a combination of “idios,” meaning “one’s own, individual,” and “synkrasis,” meaning “mixture, temperament.” Interestingly, that “idios” also underlies two other common English words. An “idiom” (from the Greek “idioma”) is a particularity, usually a term or phrase, in the speech or language of a group or inhabitants of a certain locale. The signature characteristic of an idiom is that merely grasping the words that make it up doesn’t give you its real meaning — the idiom “that dog won’t hunt” isn’t really about either dogs or hunting. It helps to have spent time in the American South to know that it means “that will not do what you expect it to do.”

“Idios” is also the root of our modern word “idiot.” The Greek “idiotes” was a private man, as opposed to a public figure, but “idiot” in English came to mean “uneducated common man,” and, eventually, “a stupid person.”

Prevaricate.

Pants on fire, film at 11.

Dear Word Detective: I was reading your column on “ruckus,” and in that description you used the word “prevaricate.” I have never heard it before and I was wondering if you could expand on where it comes from and its history. I’m surprised that it isn’t used more often, it seems to me to be a more intelligent-sounding alternative to calling someone a “liar” (plus you get to use a big word while accusing them, adding salt to the injury). — Diana T.

Ah yes, that was in answer to the man whose small son, having been told he could not create a “ruckus” in school, assumed that he would be allowed to run wild at home, and eagerly and innocently admitted his intentions when questioned. That sort of guileless honesty is, I fear, why so few children are elected to high office in our country. Not that it works for adults, either. The new Governor of New York State has lately been trying a “total honesty” approach, cheerfully fessing up to all manner of scandalous transgressions, but his constituents seem less than thrilled. It would seem that while the Emperor’s new clothes are always imaginary, the voters prefer them to nothing.  [Note:  the two preceding sentences were written in April 2008, which is when subscribers saw them and they made more sense.]

“Prevaricate” is indeed a great word, and although it is quite old, dating back to the 16th century in English, I think it actually does a better job than “lie” of pegging the particular forms dishonesty takes today. “To lie” means simply to tell an untruth, to declare to be true that which one knows to be false. Lying is a simple act, but also simple to unravel by proving the truth (and, of course, posting it to YouTube).

“Prevaricate,” however, covers a lot more ground and provides much more wiggle room. To “prevaricate” is, in the words of the Oxford English Dictionary, “to deviate from straightforwardness; to speak or act in an evasive way; to quibble, equivocate.” The first definition in the America Heritage Dictionary is even more delicate: “To stray from truthfulness or sincerity: equivocate, palter, shuffle.” Thus to “prevaricate” is to bend, twist, fudge, flog and forcefully edit the truth in a way to make it do what you want without resorting to an easily-refuted yes-or-no “lie.” Not surprisingly, politicians and bureaucrats are the Jedi masters of prevarication, as noted by an Australian newspaper in 2005: “Official witnesses can … be economical with the truth, tailor their evidence, prevaricate or misrepresent without sanction.”

For a word that is apparently vital to our modern system of government, “prevaricate” has a charmingly rustic origin. The Latin “praevaricare” meant “to plow crookedly,” resulting in crooked furrows in the field. Metaphorically, it meant “to stray from the path of what is right, to be corrupt, to violate the law,” also its original meaning in English. The current meaning of “speaking in a dishonestly evasive manner” dates to about 1625.

Interestingly, since the mid-19th century, “prevaricate” has also been used to mean “to delay action by equivocating and quibbling,” a dance step familiar to any C-Span viewer. In this age of congressional task forces and presidential commissions, the last refuge of a scoundrel is, it seems, appointing a committee to study one’s own prevarications.

In the tank.

Live, from New York, it’s still not funny!

Dear Word Detective: According to a recent Saturday Night Live, the media are in the tank for Obama. So, what does “in the tank for …” mean? What is the history of this expression? So, if the media are in the tank for Obama are they all wet? — Rob Calcote.

Holy moly, you’re that guy! The guy who watches Saturday Night Live! Wow. It must be like standing guard in the Western Aleutians. Lonely, cold, haunted by the gnawing fear that you’ve been forgotten, and no company except a Ron Paul supporter who simply won’t shut up.

Just kidding, of course. A lot of people must be watching SNL, because Google coughs up 22,600 hits for the phrase “in the tank for Obama,” most making at least a glancing reference to the recent “Weekend Update” skit parodying CNN for supposedly being biased against Hillary Clinton.

To be “in the tank” for someone or something is to be firmly committed to that person or cause, usually surreptitiously and despite avowals of neutrality. If you’re “in the tank,” you’re no longer leaning that way, or on the fence, or flirting with the cause. You have both feet planted on that side of the fence, although you may not admit it.

“In the tank” seems a particularly mysterious turn of phrase because it’s difficult to image what the “tank” might be and, for that matter, what being in any tank would have to do with secretly being on a particular side of a dispute. Things get a bit clearer, however, when we discover that “in the tank” is several steps removed from its original, much more logical, roots. It all started in the boxing ring, where a fighter who had agreed to “throw” (intentionally lose) a fight was said to “take a dive,” from the action of falling to the floor of the ring.

The metaphor of diving was further extended in another boxing phrase with the same meaning, “to go in the tank,” in this case referring to an imaginary tank of water into which the fighter would dive (perhaps partly inspired by carnival games where a clown in dumped into a tank of water). “To go in the tank” was eventually shortened to the verb “to tank,” meaning “to lose intentionally,” and spread to other sports and general slang use in the early 20th century. By the 1970s, however, “to tank” had lost the sense of “to lose deliberately” and came to mean simply “to fall sharply in value or to fail utterly and/or spectacularly” (“The stock market tanked again today”).

But while “tank” by itself changed its meaning, the original form “in the tank” was apparently resuscitated in the early 1990s with the meaning of “biased in favor of” or “working in cahoots with.” President George H.W. Bush used the phrase, with a clear reference to its origins, in his speech at the Republican National Convention in 1992: “After all, my opponent’s campaign is being backed by practically every trial lawyer who ever wore a tasseled loafer. He’s not in the ring with them; he’s in the tank.”