A Melange of Soup and Scones

Last Sunday in the Seattle Times’ Pacific NW magazine, writer Bethany Jean Clement wrote, in an article about the traditional potato-leek soup vichyssoise:
The name is the fanciest thing about this summertime soup, and you don’t even say it the fanciest way. Vee-she-swah, the pronunciation that’s most divorced from actual letters—usually the way to go when it comes to French—is, in this case, incorrect. It’s vee-she-swazz, an even more hilarious hey-I’m-wearing-a-beret mouthful. After I said it recently, a friend of mine pointedly went with the -swah, clearly to demonstrate the error of my ways. I just let her do her. Life’s too short for pronunciation-shaming, and summer’s way too short. Plus it’s only soup.”
She went on to explain that the recipe was actually developed in America by the French chef at the Ritz Hotel in New York.

But she does not explain that the rule about not pronouncing final consonants in French words does not apply when a silent E follows the final consonant.

And how is publishing this story in a Sunday magazine not “pronunciation-shaming”?

Anyway, good for her.

However, later in the magazine in an article about a home remodel its author (who shall remain nameless), states:
Chak was a little unsure, only at first, about the scones at the base of the gracefully dramatic stairway designed by Stillwell.
Owners of the Common Errors in English book may remember the charming cartoon that editor Tom Sumner captioned to illustrate my entry on this goof:

The book is worth buying for the cartoons alone, but here’s what I had to say in the associated entry:

If you fling a jam-covered biscuit at the wall and it sticks, the result may be a “wall scone”; but if you are describing a wall-mounted light fixture, the word you want is sconce.


Kicking Against the Pricks (King James Bible: Acts 26:14)

When the dental assistant was getting ready to inject me with a dose of lidocaine yesterday she warned me that I would “feel a little pinch.”

Other medical practitioners have used the same expression on me in the past, and I have always wondered why they used that particular phrase. After all, a pinch consists of squeezing skin together and an injection punctures the skin—very different.

Then it occurred to me they might be trying to avoid saying “prick” because of its anatomical meaning. Suddenly “a little pinch in your mouth” became more understandable.

They could say “sting,” but nobody likes to get stung. It sounds unpleasant even if qualified by “little.”

A pinch of saffron can make a dish delightful. Hot food fanciers may like their peppers to sting, though most people wouldn’t use that expression.

“Pinch” can have other positive associations. In the days before makeup was considered quite respectable, young ladies would pinch their cheeks to give them a rosy glow.

Men pinching women’s bottoms used to be considered a jolly gesture and was frequently joked about, though now it’s quite rightly seen as sexual assault. Children can’t sue grandmothers who pinch their cheeks, though they might like to.

"Poke”? Too soft, nothing like a prick.

So there we are—pinched.

Looking for a respectable source for the headline on this post, I found this on the pious Got Questions Website:
QuestionWhat does it mean to kick against the pricks?
Answer: “It is hard for you to kick against the pricks” was a Greek proverb, but it was also familiar to the Jews and anyone who made a living in agriculture. An ox goad was a stick with a pointed piece of iron on its tip used to prod the oxen when plowing. The farmer would prick the animal to steer it in the right direction. Sometimes the animal would rebel by kicking out at the prick, and this would result in the prick being driven even further into its flesh. In essence, the more an ox rebelled, the more it suffered. Thus, Jesus’ words to Saul on the road to Damascus: “It is hard for you to kick against the pricks.”  
Of the better-known Bible translations, the actual phrase “kick against the pricks” is found only in the King James Version. It is mentioned only twice, in Acts 9:5 and Acts 26:14. The apostle Paul (then known as Saul) was on his way to Damascus to persecute the Christians when he had a blinding encounter with Jesus. Luke records the event: “And when we were all fallen to the earth, I heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the Hebrew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks” (Acts 26:14 KJV). Modern translations have changed the word pricks to goads. All translations except the KJV and NKJV, omit the phrase altogether from Acts 9:5.  
The conversion of Saul is quite significant as it was the turning point in his life. Paul later wrote nearly half of the books of the New Testament.  
Jesus took control of Paul and let him know his rebellion against God was a losing battle. Paul’s actions were as senseless as an ox kicking “against the goads.” Paul had passion and sincerity in his fight against Christianity, but he was not heading in the direction God wanted him to go. Jesus was going to goad (“direct” or “steer”) Paul in the right direction.  
There is a powerful lesson in the ancient Greek proverb. We, too, find it hard to kick against the goads. Solomon wrote, “Stern discipline awaits him who leaves the path” (Proverbs 15:10). When we choose to disobey God, we become like the rebellious ox—driving the goad deeper and deeper. “The way of the unfaithful is hard” (Proverbs 13:15). How much better to heed God’s voice, to listen to the pangs of conscience! By resisting God’s authority we are only punishing ourselves.


Prehistoric Prescriptionism

The correcting of English usage is now as common in comic strips as slipping on a banana peel used to be.

Non Sequitur


Hands-off Editing in The New York Times

Print journalism is often thrown together hastily and unintended wordplay is sometimes the result.

In today’s New York Times there is a story headlined Uber’s Self-Driving Cars Were Struggling Before Arizona Crash in which the following passage appears:

A video shot from the vehicle’s dashboard camera showed the safety driver looking down, away from the road. It also appeared that the driver’s hands were not hovering above the steering wheel, which is what drivers are instructed to do so they can quickly retake control of the car. 
Then just two paragraphs later:
Unlike California, where Uber had been testing since spring of 2017, Arizona state officials had taken a hands-off approach to autonomous vehicles and did not require companies to disclose how their cars were performing.
Or is it possible that the reporter is making a deliberate play on words?

Not The Times’ style.


“Tape” Sticks Around

I’ve written before on this blog about how the word “tape” continues to be used in this digital era to mean “recording,” both as a noun and a verb.

I was struck again by this yesterday when on NPR a correspondent kept referring to the video confession the Austin bomber left on his cellphone as a “tape.”

I decided to look for other examples. Here are just a few out of many:
The man suspected in a series of bombings in Austin, Texas is dead, after he confessed on tape and set off an explosive in his car during a police chase.

Austin serial bomber left behind confession tape

The Daily Caller:
Austin Police discovered a confession tape from the bombing suspect where he detailed how he made the bombs, the police chief said Wednesday.

The National:
The man suspected in a series of bombings in Austin, Texas is dead, after he confessed on tape and set off an explosive in his car during a police chase.

Sean Hannity:
BOMBER’S CONFESSION: Austin MADMAN Left Behind 25 MINUTE Confession Tape

New York Post:
Austin bomber left videotaped confession, police say

[In this case “cellphone recording” is used in the subhead to the story, but in its body the writers resort to “tape.” Clearly they didn’t do this to save space since it’s usually in headlines that shorter words are preferred.]
Cops Find ‘Confession’ From Austin Bombing Suspect
25-minute cellphone recording found with Mark Conditt
Police have discovered a 25-minute recording on a cellphone found with bombing suspect Mark Conditt, and Austin Police Chief Brian Manley says he considers it a “confession,” the AP reports. He said at a news conference Wednesday that Conditt talks on the recording in great detail about the differences among the bombs he built. Manley says the tape is "the outcry of a very challenged young man."
I suspect the source of the above and many other stories is a much-quoted passage from an Associated Press story, quoted by Fox News and many other news outlets:
ROUND ROCK, Texas (AP) — Police have discovered a 25-minute recording on a cellphone found with bombing suspect Mark Conditt and Austin Police Chief Brian Manley says he considers it a "confession."

Manley says at a news conference that Conditt talks on the recording in great detail about the differences among the bombs he built.

He says that the tape is “the outcry of a very challenged young man.”
In fact Manley consistently called it a “recording,” not a “tape.”

You can hear him at the press conference, five minutes in. The rest consists mostly of officials congratulating each others’ agencies, none of them mentioning the recording.

But during the question-and-answer period though one male reporter calls it a “video recording.” a female reporter uses the word “tape.”

So it looks like that one reference perhaps triggered the word “tape” in the AP writer’s brain and he or she associated it with the police chief’s presentation. And voilà, it’s all over the newsscape.


More Fulsome

My entry for the word “fulsome” in my book says this:
In modern usage, “fulsome” has two inconsistent meanings. To some people it means “offensive, overdone,” so “fulsome praise” to them would be disgustingly exaggerated praise. 
To other people it means “abundant,” and for them “fulsome praise” is glowingly warm praise.
The first group tends to look down on the second group, and the second group tends to be baffled by the first. Best to just avoid the word altogether.
But now I have to add another note. Representative Trey Gowdy, Chairman of the House Oversight and Government Reform panel, responded to President Trump’s criticisms of Robert Mueller ’s investigation of his campaign's connections with Russia by saying, “If you’ve done nothing wrong, you should want the investigation to be as fulsome and thorough as possible.”

Gowdy not only thinks the word has positive connotations, he thinks it’s a synonym for “thorough.”

It’s easy to see how that first syllable would lead someone to think that it is an apt label for an investigation that will go fully into the facts. Now that it’s all over the news, I suppose we’ll be hearing more of it.