glitch

22 October 2020

Sometimes the meaning of a technical term becomes more general when it moves into common discourse, but sometimes a general term acquires a more specialized meaning in the mouths of engineers and scientists. The latter is the case with glitch.

In English, glitch has the general meaning of a snag or malfunction of some sort. It is borrowed into English from either or both the German glitschen or the Yiddish glitshen, meaning to slip or slide. The earliest example I can find of the word in English is a 19 May 1940 syndicated newspaper column by Katherine Brush:

When the radio talkers make a little mistake in diction they call it a “fluff,” and when they make a bad one they call it a “glitch,” and I love it.

Brush is talking about mispronunciations and slips of the tongue, but the context is that of radio.

The radio context is important because the term develops a specialized electrical engineering sense. This sense is described by astronaut John Glenn in his 1962 book Into Orbit:

Another term we adopted to describe some of our problems was “glitch.” Literally, a glitch is a spike or change in voltage in an electrical circuit which takes place when the circuit suddenly has a new load put on it.

It’s possible that the specialized sense was earlier, and the radio announcers acquired the word from the engineers, but the evidence points in the other direction.

In any case, despite becoming familiar to the general public through the space program of the 1960s, use of glitch remained rare in general discourse until the 1980s, when the rise of personal computing and other home electronics made technical glitches a more common occurrence.

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Sources:

Brush, Katherine. “Out of My Mind” (syndicated). Miami Herald, 19 May 1940, G2. NewsBank: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Davies, Mark. The Corpus of Historical American English (COHA), 2020.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, 2020, s.v. glitch, n.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. glitch, n.

googol / Google

21 October 2020

Rarely do we know the exact circumstances surrounding the coining of a new word. But in the case of googol, a mathematical term for the number represented by a one followed by 100 zeroes or 10100, we know exactly who coined it and when. It was coined by Milton Sirotta, the nine-year-old nephew of mathematician Edward Kasner. Kasner introduced his nephew’s coinage to the world in a 1938 article in the journal Scripta Mathematica:

You may want to know where I got the name "googol." I was walking in the woods with my nephew one day, and I asked the boy to think up any name for the number, any amusing name that entered his head. He suggested "googol." At the same time, he gave me a name for a still larger number: "googolplex." A googolplex is much larger than a googol, but it is still finite. Put down one, and then follow it by zeros until you get tired. No, that is a joke, because the googolplex is a specific number. A googolplex is one with so many zeros that the number of zeros is a googol: one with a googol of zeros. A googolplex is certainly bigger than a googol

To give a sense of the scale of the number, the total number of baryons (protons, neutrons, and electrons) in the universe is considerably less than a googol, approximately 3.28 × 1080.

The name of the Google search engine is an allusion to the huge number, implying that the engine handles a googol’s worth of data. The search engine was launched in 1998. The spelling was undoubtedly changed to make it a valid trademark.

The verb to Google appears shortly after the search engine’s launch. Google’s co-founder Larry Page posted the following to an e-mail list on 8 July 1998:

Have fun and keep googling!

The fact that it was Page who used the verb is a bit ironic, given that trademarks are supposed to be used only as adjectives (e.g., the Google search engine) and continued use of the term as a verb can lead to eventual loss of trademark protection, although I suppose Google has the money to fight this to the bitter end in court and this is not likely to be the fate of this particular trademark.

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Sources:

Bennett, Jay. “How Many Particles Are in the Observable Universe?Popular Mechanics, 11 July 2017.

Kasner, Edward. “New Names in Mathematics.” Scripta Mathematica, 5.1, January 1938, 13, HathiTrust Digital Library.

Kasner, Edward and James Newman. Mathematics and the Imagination. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1940, 23. HathiTrust Digital Library.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. googol, n.

———, third edition, March 2006, s.v. Google, v.2.

gig

21 October 2020

From the start, let me say that this entry has been the most complicated one I’ve faced to date—not the most difficult, but the most complicated. The Oxford English Dictionary has six separate entries for the noun gig and seven for the verb. And these different senses of the word overlap and influence one another.

There are three main semantic strands in gig: 1) a frivolous woman or an unstable platform; 2) a spear or harpoon; and 3) a trick or job.

The oldest of these senses is that of a frivolous woman. The origin is unknown, and this sense is not used today, but it gave rise to a sense that is and influenced the form of the second main strand, that of a harpoon. Gig appears in the thirteenth century in the text known as Ancrene Wisse or Ancrene Riwle, a manual (rule) for female monastics and anchoresses written c.1230. Here it is used to as an adjective to describe coquettish laughter. From the manuscript Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS 402:

[Leccherie] is o feole i-dealet: ful wil to thet fulthe with skiles yettunge, helpen othre thider-ward, beo weote ant witnesse th'rof, hunti th'refter with wohunge, with toggunge, other with eni tollunge, with gigge lahtre, hore ehe, eanie lihte lates, with yeove, with tollinde word, other with luve-speche, cos, unhende grapunge, thet mei beon heaved sunne, luvie tide other stude for-te cumen i swuch keast, ant othre foreridles the me mot nede forbuhen, the i the muchele fulthe nule fenniliche fallen.

([Lechery] is divided into many parts: a foul desire for that filth with the reason's consent, to aid another on that path, to be a spectator and witness to it, to hunt after it with wooing, with erotic touch, or with any horseplay, with giggy laughter, whorish eye, any frivolous behavior, with gifts, with enticing words, or with love-talk, a kiss, indecent touching which may be a capital sin, to love the time or place to come into such an encounter, and other precursors which one must avoid—if they do not want to vilely fall into the great filth.)

About the same time it also appears in the sense of a woman, in the medieval romance Floris and Blauncheflur, written c.1250 with a copy surviving in the Auchinleck Manuscript (Edinburgh, National Library of Scotland, Advocates MS 19.2.1), which was copied c.1335. In the passage in question, Floris is being smuggled into a castle where his love, Blauncheflur, is being held:

The porter thoughte what to rede.
He let floures gaderen in the mede,
He wiste hit was the maidenes wille.
Two coupen he let of floures fille;
That was the rede that he thought tho:
Florice in that o coupe do.
Tweie gegges the coupe bere,
So hevi charged that wroth thai were.
Thai bad God yif him evel fin
That so mani floures dede therin.

(The porter considered what to counsel.
He let flowers be gathered in the meadow,
He knew it was the maidens’ desire.
Two baskets he let be filled with flowers;
That was the counsel that he thought though:
Floris was put in one basket.
Two gigs bore the basket,
so heavily loaded that they were angry.)

Somewhere along the way, the element fis- or fiz- was added to gig. What the fiz- signifies, if anything, is not known. From John Skelton’s poem The Tunnyng of Elynour Rummyng, about an alewife and written sometime before 1529. Here the sense is still that of a woman:

Than sterte forth a fy sgygge
And she brought a bore pygge
The flesshe there of was ranke
And her brethe strongely stanke
Yet or she went she dranke
And gat her great thanke
Of Elynour for her ware
That she thyder bare
To pay for her share

Put a pin in fizgig. It will become relevant again when we get to the harpoon sense.

Meanwhile, gig also started to appear in whirligig, a child’s top. From Promptorium parvulorum, an English-Latin dictionary written in 1440:

Whyrlegyge, Chyldys game: Giraculum.

A century and a half later, the toy could simply be referred to as a gig, without the whirly. From Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost, the first quarto of which was copied in 1598:

O mee, with what strickt patience haue I sat,
To see a King transformed to a Gnat.
To see great Hercules whipping a Gigge,
And profound Sallomon to tune a Iigge.
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boyes,
And Crittick Tymon laugh at idle toyes.

The instability of a frivolous person or a child’s top gave rise to two senses of gig that are still in use today. There is that of a ship’s boat. From John Wolcot’s 1790 satirical poem Advice to the Future Laureat, which he published under the pseudonym of Peter Pindar:

Obliged not to one Poet’s Rhyme,
Important, down the stream of time,
            Proud let me sail, or not at all:
Too proud for Verse to take in tow my Name;
Just like the Victory, or Fame,
            That by its painter drags the Gig or Yawl.

(Victory and Fame are names of contemporary ships of the line.)

And around the same time, gig was being applied to another unstable vehicle, that of a horse-drawn, two-wheeled carriage. From the 1791 Annals of Horsemanship, which is a delightfully satirical take on how the eighteenth-century British middle class was obsessed with the behaviors and trappings that signaled class status:

That nothing may be wanting, I propose to appropriate a few pages to the art of sitting politely in carriages, with the most becoming attitudes adopted to each vehicle. Among others, the politest manner of airing, en famille, in a gig, accompanied with a husband and three children; and, as there is no situation wherein art cannot be advantageously employed, I shall give a few precepts of the most advantageous display of the person on a hay, pea, or dust cart.

The second main sense of gig has a very different trajectory. It comes from the Spanish fisga, meaning a spear or harpoon. The addition of the final / g / may have been influenced by the somewhat earlier and aforementioned fizgig

Fishgig appears by 1589 in Richard Hakluyt’s book about English voyages of discovery:

There were some of those Bonitoes, which being galled by a fisgig did follow our ship coming out of Guinea 500. leagues.

And by the eighteenth century, this sense of the word was being clipped to gig. From Robert Beverley’s 1705 History and Present State of Virginia:

At each end of the Canoe stands an Indian, with a Gig, or pointed Spear, setting the Canoe forward with the Butt-end of the Spear, as gently as he can, by that Means stealing upon the Fish, without any Noise, or disturbing of the Water. Then they with great Dexterity, dart these spears into the Fish, as so take ‘em.

And a century later gig was being used as a verb meaning to spear a fish. From the journal of Meriwether Lewis for 4 September 1803:

The water is so low and clear that we see a great number of Fish of different kinds, the Sturgeon, Bass, Cat fish, pike, &c. we fixed some spears after the indian method but have had too much to attend to of more importance than gigging fish.

In present-day usage, the verb meaning to fish or frog with a gig is primarily found in the southern United States. It’s also found in the cheer heard at Texas A&M University sporting events: Gig ‘em, Aggies!

The sense of spearing or stabbing gave rise to the military sense of gig meaning to receive a demerit or punishment or the demerit itself. This jargon sense appears in the World War II era. Damon Runyon notes it in his syndicated newspaper column of 7 September 1941 in which he allegedly speaks with new recruit:

I ses it seems to me I heard you was having plenty of trouble getting used to the Army and that they had you in the guardhouse a couple of times. Jerry ses No I was only gigged once.

And another syndicated piece, this time about how comedians Budd Abbott and Lou Costello had to learn Army slang during the production of their 1941 film Keep ‘Em Flying, defines the sense. From the 2 December 1941 Calgary Herald:

They learned that a recruit is a “jackpot.” To “pop up” is to come to attention. A “gig” is a faux pas and to be “gigged” is to be punished for same.

The third strand of gig, that of trick or job arises out of jig, the dance. That word appears in the middle of the sixteenth century and is of unknown origin. But by the end of that century, it was also being used in the theater to refer to an interlude, particularly a comic one, between acts of a play. From the interlude between the first and second acts of Robert Greene’s The Scottish Historie of Iames the Forth, Slaine at Flodden, published in 1598:

Here see I good fond actions in thy gyg,
And meanes to paint the worldes in constant waies
But turne thine ene, see which for I can command.

Slightly before the publication of Greene’s play, and about the same time as the play was probably first performed, we see jig being used to refer to a trick or swindle. From Thomas Nashe’s 1592 Pierce Penilesse:

Looke to it you Booksellers and Stationers, and let not your shops be infected with any such goose gyblets or stinking garbadge, as the Iygs of newsmongers, and especiallie such of you as frequent Westminster hall, let them be circumspect what dunghill papers they bring thither: for one bad pamphlet is enough to raise a damp that may poison a whole Tearme, or at the least a number of poore Clyents that haue no money to preuent ill aire by breaking their fasts ere they come thither.

And somewhat later we have another Greene associated with the stage, this one actor Thomas Greene, involved in the history of the word. The sense of gig as a swindle or con appears in John Cook’s Greenes Tu Quoque, which was published in 1614 but performed as early as 1611. This exchange between the characters of Sir Lyonell and Scattergood is about whether a merchant cheated Scattergood when he sold him a hat:

Lyo. Why but what Iigge is this?

Scat. Nay if I know father, would I were hangd, I am e'ne as Innocent as the Child new borne.

Lyo. I but sonne Bubble, where did you two buy your Felts?

Scat. Felts? By this light, mine is a good Beauer: It cost mee three pound this morning vpon trust.

Lyo. Nay, I thinke you had it vpon trust: for no man that has any shame in him, would take mony for it.

And we have this humorous item from the pages of The Sporting Magazine of September 1793, in which a dog-thief convinces a judge that he has not actually committed a crime because the statute in question prohibits stealing a dog, but he has actually taken a bitch, which is not against the law:

Justice. I insist upon it that, according to the true spirit of the statute, a dog and a bitch is exactly the same thing.

Prisoner. I dare you to convict me on the statute of 10 G. 3. The word bitch is not so much mentioned in it. I had the opinion of my brethren upon this gig, and bl—st me I don’t steal as many bitches as I come near.

The sense of jig or gig as a trick or swindle has faded from use, although it survives in fossilized form in the phrase the jig is up. But the sense of gig as a piece of light entertainment, a side-show act continued. From Helen Green’s 1908 collection of stories about vaudeville, The Maison de Shine:

“I’m the champion paper tearer of the West,” said Charlie.

“I pass,” said the Property Man. “What kind o’ gig is that?”

Charlie became sociable. He told them about his “act.”

He was not exactly in vaudeville, but on the front fringe of it. The managers of different stores hired him to work in their show windows. He made charming souvenirs by “tearing paper” into odd designs in view of the spectators, and ladies of the towns came in flocks to view his marvelous dexterity.

By the 1920s, musicians had picked up gig and started using it to refer to one-night stands at clubs and performance venues. From the September 1926 issue of the British publication Melody Maker:

One popular “gig” band makes use of a nicely printed booklet.

And from the same magazine of May 1927:

This seven-piece combination does many “gigs” in S.E. London, but is hoping to secure a resident engagement at Leamington in the near future.

And by the mid twentieth century, the show business sense had expanded to include other types of precarious and intermittent employment. From Herbert Simmon’s 1957 novel Corner Boy:

You know I wouldn’t go against you, Monk. I ain’t trying to cut out. Why should I? Ain’t no other gig in town I can make this kind of bread.

And of course, this use of gig has lent itself to our economy in late-stage capitalism. From a CNN panel show of 14 January 2009, editor and journalist Tina Brown speaking:

As I say, you know people don't have jobs anymore, they just have gigs. They say, you ask somebody what they're doing and it takes about 10 minutes to answer. People go well I'm doing two hours here and I'm working there and I'm spending a few days consulting and I'm traveling and I'm doing this. And it's everybody's hustling. This is of course not news to people who, you know, in the lower income bracket but what is new and what really is quite striking right now is that the college-educated group who kind of thought that a college education was going to be a free pass to job security, are also completely scrambling in the new gig economy.

There you have it, a tortuous route through history that shows how different senses of a word can relate to and influence one another.

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Sources:

Beverley, Robert. The History and Present State of Virginia. London: R. Parker, 1705, 34. Eighteenth Century Collections Online (ECCO).

Cooke, John. Greenes Tu Quoque. London: Iohn Trundle, 1614. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Dictionary of American Regional English, 2013, s.v. gig, v.2.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, 2020, s.v. gig, n.1.

Green, Helen. “Gold Eagle Charlie, Vaudeville’s Bad Man.” The Maison de Shine. New York: B.W. Dodge, 1908, 48–49. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Greene, Robert. The Scottish Historie of Iames the Forth, Slaine at Flodden. London: Thomas Creede, 1598. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Hakluyt, Richard. The Principall Navigations, Voiages and Discoveries of the English Nation. London: George Bishop and Ralph Newberie, 1589, 542. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Hasenfratz, Robert, ed. Ancrene Wisse (c. 1230). TEAMS Middle English Text Series. Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute, 2000, lines 4.332–38.

Kooper, Erik, ed. “Floris and Blauncheflur.” Sentimental and Humorous Romances. TEAMS Middle English Text Series. Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute, 2005, lines 790–97.

“Letter the Fifth.” Annals of Horsemanship. London, W. Dickinson, 1791, 24. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Lewis, Meriwether and John Ordway. The Journals of Captain Meriwether Lewis and Sergeant John Ordway, Milo M. Quaife, ed. Madison: State Historical Society of Wisconsin, 1916, 36. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Middle English Dictionary, 2019, s.v. gig(ge, n.1, whirl-gig, n.

Moore, Charles R. “Comedians Learned Whole New Speech.” Calgary Herald (syndicated), 2 December 1941, 8. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Nash, Thomas. Pierce Penilesse. London: Abell Ieffes for I Busby, 1592, L2. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

“Obama to Issue Veto Threat on Bailout.” CNN. Finance Wire, 14 January 2009. ProQuest.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. fizgig | fisgig, n., fish-gig, n., gegge, n., gig, n.1, gig, n.2, gig, n.4, gig, n.6, gig, v.5, jig, n.1.

Pindar, Peter (John Wolcot). “Advice to the Future Laureat.” The Works of Peter Pindar, Esq., vol. 2 of 5. London: J. Walker, et al., 1812, 338. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Promptorium parvulorum: The First English-Latin Dictionary. A.L. Mayhew, ed. Early English Text Society, Extra Series, 102. London: K. Apul, Trench, Trubner & Co., 1908, 525. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Runyon, Damon. “The Brighter Side.” San Francisco Examiner (syndicated), 7 September 1941, 8. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Shakespeare, William. Love’s Labour’s Lost. Quarto I (Boone), 1598. 4.3, 40.

Simmons, Herbert. Corner Boy. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1957, 100. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

“A Singular Examination Before a Certain Justice of the Peace.” The Sporting Magazine, September 1793, 343. Eighteenth Century Collections Online (ECCO).

Skelton, John. “The Tunnyng of Elynour Rummyng” (a.1529). Here After Folowith Certayne Bokes. London: Richard Lant for Henry Tab, 1545. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Generational Cohorts

Cover of the 1964 book Generation X by Charles Hamblett and Jane Deverson

Cover of the 1964 book Generation X by Charles Hamblett and Jane Deverson

20 October 2020

It started with the Boomers, the naming of the generations. Yes, the term Lost Generation came first, but the idea that demographic groupings of people born in a span of years should have a particular name really caught on with the post-WWII generation. The idea that people born around the same time have commonalities is both trivial (e.g., taste in music) and wildly incorrect (e.g., share the same moral values). And the schema we use is entirely U.S.-centric, although people in other countries often apply the naming scheme, or parts of it, to themselves, yet we keep trying to classify people by the year in which they were born.

William Strauss and Neil Howe did not invent the idea of a generational schema, but they popularized it. In 1991, they published a book touting the idea that there were cyclical patterns in U.S. history based on generational differences. As history and sociology, their idea is bunk, but it proved to be popular. Strauss and Howe’s names for the generations, however, were different than those most commonly used today, and of course, given a 1991 publication date, their scheme stopped in the 1980s. Their names for the groups born in particular spans of years were:

1901–24:         G.I.
1925–42:       Silent
1943–60:       Boomer
1961–81:         13er
1981–:            Millennial

The generally accepted names today are as follows. The years that define the groups vary somewhat depending on whom you ask—only the Baby Boomers have a period that can be objectively defined by a clear demographic trend, and even there the years aren’t predictive of cultural proclivities. For example, I was born in 1963, technically a boomer, but I have much more in common with Gen Xers. (I prefer Talking Heads to the Beatles and my economic prospects have been narrower like a Gen Xer’s.) Anyway, here is the schema as it commonly appears:

1883–1900:     The Lost Generation
1901–27:         The Greatest Generation (The G.I. Generation)
1928–45:        The Silent Generation
1946–64:        Baby Boomers
1965–80:        Generation X (Gen X)
1981–96:         Millennials (Generation Y)
1997–2012:     Generation Z
2013–:             Generation Alpha

But where do these names come from?

Lost Generation (1883–1900)

The name for the generation that fought in the First World War has a literary origin. The name is both literal and metaphorical. It is literal in sheer numbers of young men who died in the war, although this is more true for Britain and the European countries than for the United States. It is also metaphorical in that it represents a rootlessness and destruction of moral purpose as a result of the war.

The term Lost Generation first appears in one of the epigraphs in Ernest Hemingway’s 1926 novel The Sun Also Rises. In the book, Hemingway attributed the phrase to Gertrude Stein:

“You are all a lost generation.”—Gertrude Stein in conversation.

Four decades later, Hemingway described that conversation:

It was when we had come back from Canada and were living in the rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs and Miss Stein and I were still good friends that Miss Stein made the remark about the lost generation. She had some ignition trouble with the old Model T Ford she then drove and the young man who worked in the garage and had served in the last year of the war had not been adept, or perhaps had not broken the priority of other vehicles, in repairing Miss Stein's Ford. Anyway he had not been sérieux and had been corrected severely by the patron of the garage after Miss Stein's protest. The patron had said to him, "You are all a génération perdue."'

"That's what you are. That's what you all are," Miss Stein said. "All of you young people who served in the war. You are a lost generation."

Greatest Generation / G.I. Generation (1901–27)

The name Greatest Generation gained popularity with the 1998 publication of television news anchor Tom Brokaw’s book of that title about the men and women who served in the Second World War, both in the military and on the home front. But Brokaw did not coin the term; it had been around for decades.

The earliest use of Greatest Generation that I’m aware of is by Democratic Congressman Hatton Sumners of Dallas, Texas in 1940, before the United States was even in the war. Sumners used the term in a series of speeches, or the same stump speech, given multiple times that year. Sumners uses the term in an aspirational, rather than a descriptive sense, arguing that this generation must rise from the devastation of the Great Depression to fight fascism and right the world. From the first instance to the young people of the Dallas Junior Chamber of Commerce on 3 July 1940:

It is up to your generation to set this government on a sound basis. My generation has failed. You must not dodge but prove yourselves the greatest generation on earth by do the work before you and righting the wrongs done in the last twenty-five years.

But Sumners was not the only one using the phrase around that time. W. Arthur Simpson, director of old age assistance for Vermont, used in in a speech to Burlington Lions Club on 28 July 1941:

It is given to any individual to participate only the tiniest fraction in the great upward struggle of the human race, but we have each a responsibility as a part of this generation, which if it is to survive must be the greatest generation that ever stood on this earth.

The other name for this particular generation is more prosaic: the G.I. Generation. It simply acknowledges the vast number of men of that cohort who served in uniform during the war. This name appears shortly after the war. From an 18 December 1946 article in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch about how, while their service was great, the returning vets can’t expect to run things:

“Nor does that go for the G.I. Generation alone. You’ll find it in every walk of life. The newspaper world, which is filled with such lively “modern” chatter, is also the product of countless worldly wise old wart hogs, male and female.

Silent Generation (1928–45)

Bracketed by the war generation and the boomers and often overlooked, the Silent Generation would seem to be aptly named. The name first appears in the Detroit Free Press of 1 November 1951, but this is in an excerpt from a Time magazine piece of 5 November. The Time piece reads:

Youth today is waiting for the hand of fate to fall on its shoulders, meanwhile working fairly hard and saying almost nothing. The most startling fact about the younger generation is its silence. With some rare exceptions, youth is nowhere near the rostrum. By comparison with the Flaming Youth of their fathers & mothers, today's younger generation is a still, small flame. It does not issue manifestoes, make speeches or carry posters. It has been called the "Silent Generation." But what does the silence mean? What, if anything, does it hide? Or are youth's elders merely hard of hearing?

Baby Boomers (1945–64)

Generic use of baby boom is much older than any of these generational names. It’s an Americanism dating to at least the 1870s to mark any uptick in births. Here’s a local example from the Cincinnati Daily Gazette of 22 November 1879 detailing a spate of births among the families of the crew of a riverboat:

Madison Courier: The baby boom has struck the Gen. Pike’s crew. “A few weeks ago Mate Lon Noble first experienced the feelings of a father: a little later Engineer Charlie Marshall modestly confessed his paternal pride, and now Pilot Henry Thomas claims the red ribbon for a beautiful ten-pound boy, arrived last night.

The application of the term to the then-expected increase in births following the Second World War dates, as one might expect, to 1945. There had been a short increase in the birth rate following the U.S. entry into the war, but on 4 February 1945 the U.S. Department of Commerce reported this mini-boom was over and to expect a larger one in the year to come:

The Commerce Department reported Saturday night that the Nation’s birth rate, which rose 30 per cent above prewar levels in the year after Pearl Harbor, now is declining and will stay that way until the end of hostilities precipitates another baby boom.

And the term Baby Boomer for a member of this cohort appears by 1963 as the oldest members of that cohort reached adulthood. From the Philadelphia Inquirer of 1 February 1963:

These are the elements that make the present baby boomer problem more difficult:

The flood of students will be without the Federal aid provided for the GIs.

The new applicants will be younger and less determined.

They will lack experience.

They will lack the clearly defined goals of the more mature GI students.

Generation X (1965–80)

Generation X did not originally apply to the post-Boomer cohort. In its first instance, it applied to the silent generation and then more generally to any rootless or lost generation. The term first appears in December 1952 issue of Holiday magazine, touting an upcoming photo-essay by photographer Robert Capa, although the term would not appear in the photo-essay itself:

What, you may well ask, is Generation X? [...] Our tag for what we believe to be the most important group of people in the world today—the boys and girls who are just turning 21. These are the youngsters who have seen and felt the agonies of the past two decades, often firsthand, who are trying to keep their balance in the swirling pressures of today, and who will have the biggest say in the course of history for the next 50 years.

Capa was later quoted as saying:

We intended to present the problem of a generation which has as its main problem “going to war or not.”

In 1964, a British book by Jane Deverson and Charles Hamblett with the title Generation X would play an indirect role in the naming of the post-boomer generation. Positing that they were another rootless generation, the book featured interviews with teenagers, that is to say boomers, and said:

The ultimate responsibility of Generation X is to guide the human race through the final and crucial decades of this explosive century into the enlightenment of the next one.

A copy of the book happened to be owned by the mother of William Broad, a.k.a. Billy Idol, and Idol’s memory of the book was the inspiration for the name of the punk rock band that Idol fronted. The band released their eponymous album Generation X in 1977. Punk, New Wave, and Grunge music would be the anthems of the next generation, and the name Generation X began to be applied to that cohort. An article in the Toronto Star on 24 February 1989 used the term in just this way:

"Throughout their lives," says Landon Y. Jones in Great Expectations: America And The Baby Boom Generation, "they will face the prospect of salaries that were not quite as large as they hoped, devalued education and difficult promotions."

As kids, their big brothers and sisters got the attention for doing all the wrong, rebellious things.

As teenagers, they missed the big Beatlemania and Woodstock-style love-ins, but boy did they hear about them.

And now, as young adults, they're banging their heads on a top-heavy job market crammed with thirtysomething career folk who don't plan to budge.

The boomers above them—10 to 12 years' worth—have sucked up all the nice jobs and good apartments, then rammed the real estate market skyward.

These folks don't even have a moniker. Some call them afterboomers; others, like Decima pollster Allan Gregg, label them Generation X.

Their very nonentity is their identity.

And:

The other possibility, adds Gregg, is that the Generation X-ers will cope by changing their goals or changing their behavior.

Two years later, Canadian writer Douglas Coupland, perhaps inspired by the Toronto newspaper article, would publish his 1991 novel Generation X, and the name for the cohort became cemented in the public consciousness.

Strauss and Howe named this cohort 13er because it is the thirteenth cohort in their schema of American history. That name does not seem to have gained currency outside of their book.

Millennials / Generation Y (1981–96)

More successful was Strauss and Howe’s naming of the Millennial generation. From their 1991 book:

At Burrville Elementary, 13ers in older grades found the uniforms slightly humiliating, but the younger kids hardly seemed to mind. These kids in green coats and yellow blouses are the vanguard of America’s MILLENNIAL GENERATION. Cute. Cheerful. Scoutlike. Wanted. Not since the 1910s, when midlife Missionaries dressed child G.I.s in Boy Scout brown, have adults seen such advantage in making kids look alike and work together. Not since the early 1900s have older generations moved so quickly to assert greater adult dominion over the world of childhood—and to implant civic virtue in a new crop of youngsters.

(In their schema, Missionary is the generation that precedes the Lost Generation, and were the parents of the G.I. Generation.)

Millennials have also gone by the rather unimaginative Generation Y, as they are the cohort that follows the Gen Xers. This name seems to have faded as Millennial gained in popularity, but it came about shortly after Generation X caught on. From the Montreal Gazette of 7 August 1992:

Generation X was the generation that hit the job market during the 1982-83 recession. Now another generation is being told to lower its expectations and prepare for a tough and maybe disappointing lifestyle. Generation X is only now beginning to emerge in the economy and the media.

Is the new generation going to take it lying down?

"No" is one of the first words this generation heard. No to drugs, no to sunlight, no to sex and no to jobs.

Call them Generation Y, because Y comes after X, and maybe because they're coming of age with the big questions laid out before them.

• Y can't we go out in the sun?

• Y can't the AIDS epidemic be stopped?

• Y is the environment in the state it is?

• Y is Canada in the state it is?

• Y are racism and sexism still going strong when everyone knows there's no reason for it?

• Y can't I get decent work?

Will Generation Y rise to challenge to these Olympian dilemmas?

Generation Z (1997–2012)

And of course, Generation Y led to Generation Z, which appears by 2010:

After "Generation Y," and likely due to a lack of a more creative term, comes "Generation Z." Some refer to this generation as "iGen" since they have never known a world without the Internet. Martha Irvine of the Associated Press states, "they are the tech-savviest generation of all time... even toddlers can maneuver their way through YouTube and some first-graders are able to put together a PowerPoint presentation for class." A teacher's most complicated struggle with Generation Z is not necessarily how to relate lessons to them, but rather how to prepare these students for careers and jobs that don't even exist yet.

Generation Alpha (2013– )

And having run out of letters in the Latin alphabet, we turn to Greek for the name of the next cohort. From the Australian newspaper Northern Star of 12 March 2011:

They are smart, cashed-up, career driven and are making their way to a place near you.

It's the newest addition to society's demographic categorisation—Generation Alpha.

Babies born from 2010 are part of this demographic, coming after the digital-native Generation Z and the want-want-want Generation Y.

The Generation Alphas will be some of the first beneficiaries of government-funded paid parental leave.

If the population continues to age at the current rate, they will have countless job opportunities.

You may note that the same critiques and notes of despair are sounded whenever a new generation comes of age. The “problem with kids these days” has always been and presumably always will be.

Discuss this post


Sources:

Strauss, William and Neil Howe. Generations: The History of America’s Future, 1584 to 2069. New York: William Morrow, 1991, 8. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Lost Generation

Hemingway, Ernest. A Moveable Feast. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1964, 29. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Hemingway, Ernest. The Sun Also Rises (1926), in Three Novels of Ernest Hemingway. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1962, xxviii. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. lost, adj.

Greatest Generation

“Nation Needs Citizens’ Aid, Sumners Says.” Dallas Morning News, 4 July 1940, 8. NewsBank America’s Historical Newspapers.

“Old Texas Bar Association Is Replaced.” Shreveport Times (Louisiana), 7 July 1940, 2. NewsBank America’s Historical Newspapers.

OED, third edition, September 2013, s.v. greatest, adj., n., and adv.

Robinson, Elsie. “At 65 or So You Can Still Be Vigorous.” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, 18 December 1946, 3D. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

“Tells Druggists U.S. Defense Lags.” Cleveland Plain Dealer, 9 October 1941, 5. NewsBank America’s Historical Newspapers.

“U.S. Must Arm for a Generation, Declares Simpson: Avers War Will Be Long One and People Must Sacrifice Much.” Burlington Free Press and Times, 29 July 1941, 7. ProQuest.

Silent Generation

“Portrait of the Younger Generation. Detroit Free Press, 1 November 1951, 12. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

“The Younger Generation.” Time, 5 November 1951, 46.

Baby Boomers

“Baby Boom Over.” Commercial Appeal (Memphis, Tennessee), 4 February 1945, 4. NewsBank: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Nason, Leslie J. “Baby Boomers Pose Problem in College.” The Philadelphia Inquirer, 1 February 1963, 13. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

OED, third edition, June 2011, s.v. baby, n. and adj.

“River News.” Cincinnati Daily Gazette, 22 November 1879, 3. NewsBank: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Generation X

OED, third edition, June 2001, s.v. Generation X, n.

Strauss and Howe. Generations, 85.

Ulrich, John M. and Andrea L. Harris, eds. GenXegesis: Essays on “Alternative” Youth (Sub)Culture. Madison: U of Wisconsin Press, 2003, 32. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Whelan, Richard. Robert Capa: A Biography. New York: Knopf, 1985, 278. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Zarzour, Kim. “The No-Name Generation Group Born in the ‘60s Now Left Behind in the Wake of Successful Baby Boomers.” Toronto Star, 24 February 1989, B1. ProQuest Newspapers.

Millennials

Nerenberg, Albert. The Gazette (Montreal), 7 August 1992, A2. ProQuest Newspapers.

Strauss and Howe. Generations, 335.

Generation Z

Miller, Kimberley and Theresa Pesl Murphrey. “Catching Up with Our Students.” Agricultural Education Magazine, Nov/Dec 2010, 20. ProQuest Trade Journals.

Generation Alpha

Benny-Morrison, Ava. “Alpha—The Next Generation.” Northern Star (Lismore, New South Wales), 12 March 2011, 7.

Photo credit:

Cover, Charles Hamblett and Jane Deverson. Generation X. Fawcett/Gold Medal Books, 1964.

pornography

19 October 2020

Criminal laws in this area are constitutionally limited to hard-core pornography. I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within that shorthand description; and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it, and the motion picture involved in this case is not that.

—Potter Stewart, concurring opinion in Jacobellis v. Ohio, 1964

Justice Stewart was correct when he opined that exactly what constitutes pornography is difficult, if not impossible, to determine, but the etymology of the word is not. The word pornography comes from the Hellenistic Greek adjective πορνογράϕος (pornographos), literally meaning relating to writing about prostitutes. In modern use, pornographie appears in an 1800 French treatise on prostitution, and this French usage may be the basis for our use of it in English today.

The English word appears in the mid nineteenth century in reference to ancient Greek and Roman art. From William Smith’s 1842 Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities, concerning the early Hellenistic period, i.e., after c.325 B.C.E.:

The consequence was, that the artists of those times were under the necessity of trying other fields of art; of attracting attention by novelty and variety: thus rhyparograph (ρυπαρογραφία), pornography, and all the lower classes of art, attained the ascendency and became characteristic styles of the period.

[...]

Pornography, or obscene painting, which, in the time of the Romans, was practised with the grossest licence, prevailed especially at no particular period in Greece, but was apparently tolerated to a considerable extent at all times.

A rhyparograph is an image of a base or sordid subject. Unfortunately, the early users of the word pornography do not cite specific examples, so like Justice Stewart, we are left wondering exactly what constituted the genre.

One relatively early use of the word is in a contemporary Chinese context, not that of ancient Greece or Rome, but it uses the term in reference to the Greco-Roman artistic tradition and the house in question blends European and Asian styles. From the Athenæum of 17 April 1858:

The house into which Dr. Yvan was originally introduced at Canton was of a composite disorder, mingling the European with the Oriental, with a roof of sparkling granite, stores of silk, tea, and musk, and hospitable ranges of apartments hung with silk, separated by ivory and ebony lattices, and, in the harem portions, decorated with a species of pornography that would have shocked Apuleius and given Parrhasius a hint.

The use of harem is also of note. It undoubtedly refers to the private, familial portions of the house, but uses a word Arabic-Turkish origin, showing the orientalist bent of the writer and further emphasizing the blending of cultures in the house.

And for the first several decades, use of pornography was restricted to the art of antiquity. But as the century drew to a close, the word began to be applied to contemporary works. From an 1889 open letter by Robert Buchanan on proposed British legislation to restrict the publication of salacious material:

I have never held (and I do not hold now) the opinion that drainage is a fit subject for Art, that men grow any better by the contemplation of what is bestial and unpleasant; indeed, I have always been puritan enough to think pornography a nuisance. It is one thing, however, to dislike the obtrusion of things unsavoury and abominable, and quite another to regard any allusion to them as positively criminal.

Illustrating Potter Stewart’s difficulty in defining pornography is this 1890 review of Victorien Sardou’s play La Tosca, on which the Puccini opera is based:

If anything can be offered as an excuse for such a representation, it can only be the finished and artistic acting of its exponents. Mr. Forbes Robertson, as the Baron, deals with his unsavory part with studied care, but it is questionable whether even so refined a delineation of iniquity justifies the consideration of pornography as one of the fine arts.

It is hard to imagine a world where La Tosca and Deep Throat are both lumped into the same category, and there are those who have tried to distinguish erotic art from pornography. An example is this 1918 editorial that quotes French novelist and critic Andre Beaunier:

The Poilu writes from the front that he’ll be damned if he intends to have the pigwash credited to him. He admits that soldiers’ language is, like the language of the rest of the world, a bit thick at times; but he will have us to understand that prepared and polished Pornography is not what he wants.

The confusing of Pornography and gaiety is one of the most foolish errors of our day. It has done much to hurt the good reputation of France. Besides, the strangers who came to Paris sought for it with an unhealthy curiosity and then despised us when they returned home. This hypocrisy is well-known. Real gaiety is never nasty; it is a sign of health; while pornography is a disease of the mind.”

Given the difficulty of determining exactly what falls under the rubric of pornography, it was perhaps inevitable that the word would begin to be used figuratively, relating to an appeal to the baser desires and instincts, but not necessarily sexual ones. By 1956 we have Abraham Kaplan referring to the pornography of violence:

The impulses of love and hate may become confused and intertwined and sex patterned into sado-masochistic perversion. In the expression of this content, psychic distance can no longer be maintained, but is submerged in emphatic identifications both with brutality and with its victims. A new category of the obscene emerges: the pornography of violence.

In this type of obscenity, sexual desire finds symbolic release only as transformed into acts of aggression. A phenomenally popular series of novels is constructed according to a rigid pattern of alternation of violence and sex, which coincide only at the climax when the virile hero is allowed to shoot the wicked beauty. More sophisticated in style and structure, but essentially the same in substance, is the work of the “realistic” school sometimes associated with the name of Hemingway. Death in the afternoon prepares for love at midnight. There is no question that writing of this genre is effective; the question is only whether the effect is esthetic—an abattoir can also provide a moving experience. Esthetic or not, the genre is enormously successful; taking into account the “detective” story and crime “comic,” the pornography of violence is more widespread in our culture than all the other categories of obscenity put together.

The clipped form porn appears by 1962, and within ten years we have figurative uses of that too. First horror-porn from 1973:

[S. Clay] Wilson is the creator of the most outrageous of all the New Comix. A real innovator in horror-porn, he was the first underground cartoonist to revel in atrocity, to pack his pages with entrails and a crew of frenzied characters who enjoy nothing so much as chewing on a bit of warm bowel.

And today we have weather-porn, war-porn, gastro-porn / food-porn, and all sorts of other ‑porns.

Discuss this post


Sources:

Buchanan, Robert. On Descending into Hell: A Letter Addressed to the Right Hon. Henry Matthews, Q.C., Home Secretary, Concerning the Proposed Suppression of Literature. London: George Redway, 1889, 6. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

“Editorial Note.” The Mask: A Quarterly Illustrated Journal of the Art of the Theatre, vol. 8, no. 4, 1918, 13. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

“Inside Canton.” The Athenæum, no. 1590, 17 April 1858. 491. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Kaplan, Abraham. “Obscenity as an Esthetic Category.” American Philosophers at Work (1956). Sidney Hook, ed. New York: Greenwood Press, 1968, 414-415. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, December 2006, s.v. pornography, n., porn, n.2.

Schechter, Harold. “Kali on Main Street: The Rise of the Terrible Mother in America.” Journal of Popular Culture, 7.2, Fall 1973, 257. ProQuest Scholarly Journals.

Smith, William, ed. A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities, vol. 2 of 2. London: Taylor and Walton, 1842, 694. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

“Through the Opera Glass.” Pick-Me-Up, 4 January 1890, 230. HathiTrust Digital Archive.