Word of the Month: Diplomacy

1 November 2002

War is on everyone lips. Will the United States attack Iraq? What is being done to get weapons inspectors back into that country? What is going on at the United Nations Security Council and back in the foreign ministries at capitals around the world? The word of the month for November is:

Diplomacy, n., the conduct of international relations through negotiation, the methods and skills by which this is achieved. From the French diplomatie (pronounced –cie). In English since 1796.

Here we take a look at some of the words associated with diplomacy, what they mean and where they come from.

Accord, n., an international agreement, a treaty. Originally, accord was a label for a treaty covering a minor matter; this distinction no longer applies and the term is used as a full synonym for treaty. From the Old French acord. The diplomatic sense of the word has been in use since 1297.

Aide Mémoire, n., a memorandum summarizing the points a diplomat has made at a meeting. Traditionally, the diplomat leaves an aide mémoire behind as he or she leaves, literally as a written “aid to memory.” From the French. In English use since 1846.

Ambassador, n., title given to the head of a diplomatic mission who is also the personal representative of a head of state. Usually officially titled an Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary. These additional labels are largely meaningless today. Extraordinary originally meant an ambassador on a special mission, one not permanently residing in the host country. Permanent ambassadors were called Ambassadors Ordinary, but since this implied that they were somehow inferior, there was a title creep and all ambassadors became extraordinary. Similarly, plenipotentiary once meant that the ambassador had the power to negotiate as if he were the head of state. Now it simply means that he has the power to serve as chief of mission. Ambassador has been in English use since c. 1374. Early uses were variants on the Medieval Latin *ambactiātor. The modern word is from the French ambassadeur. Often spelled embassador in the 19th century, particularly by the United States.

Ambassadress, n., the wife of an ambassador. In the past, the term has also been used to denote a female ambassador, but that usage is considered improper today and a female ambassador is properly addressed as ambassador. In use since 1594 for a female ambassador and since 1716 for a wife.

Attaché, n., an aide to an ambassador, a member of the ambassador’s staff. Literally, one attached to the ambassador. From the French. In English use since 1834.

Back channel, n. and adj., an informal and usually secret method for passing information and conducting negotiations that bypasses the official diplomatic channels. Since the early 1970s.

Backstop, n. and v., American term for a policy-making group in Washington that can provide instructions and guidance to missions and delegations overseas. From baseball, a backstop is a fence behind the catcher that prevents a wild pitch or passed ball from going too far. Cf. long-stop, a UK cricket term also used figuratively in the same sense.

Bargaining chip, n., a position taken early in negotiations that one is prepared to concede or trade for agreement on another. The origin is unknown. Usually taken to be a poker reference, but there is no such term or concept in that game. Since 1960.

Belligerency, n., a state of war. From the Latin belligerāntem. In English use since 1863, although belligerent has been around since the 16th century.

Bilateral, adj., denotes diplomacy between two countries, as opposed to multilateral diplomacy (e.g., the United Nations). In diplomatic use since 1802. Also, the word is informally used as a noun to denote a bilateral meeting or agreement, particularly when there is simultaneous multilateral diplomacy on the same subject.

Brinksmanship, n., a negotiating strategy that risks war in order to force the other side to compromise. Adlai Stevenson coined the term in 1956 as a criticism of Secretary of State John Foster Dulles’s foreign policy. Dulles had previously stated that bringing a negotiating partner to the “brink” was a “necessary art” of the diplomat.

Cable, n., a message giving instructions to a mission or reporting results back to a capital. Diplomats still refer to them as cables regardless of the actual means of communication (often today via satellite or the Internet). Since 1883. A clipping of cablegram, formed in imitation of telegram to denote a message sent by transoceanic cable.

Casus Belli, n., an act justifying a state of war. From the Latin, literally cause for war. In English use since 1849.

Chancery, n., building housing a mission’s offices, especially when separate from the ambassador’s home. It is a worn down form of chancellery, which is still used by some nations, although not by Britain or the United States. In the diplomatic sense since 1561. Use to denote a court of a chancellor, particularly the Lord Chancellor of England, is older. The diplomatic sense derives from these older courts.

Chargé d’Affaires, n., deputy head of a mission, one charged with carrying out diplomacy in the absence of the ambassador. From the French, literally one in charge of affairs. In English use since 1767.

Co-Del, n., US State Department abbreviation for Congressional Delegation, the term for Congresspersons and their staff on visits abroad.

Communiqué, n., a public statement of the results of a diplomatic meeting. Jointly agreed upon, determining the language of a communiqué is often the most time-consuming part of the meeting. From the French. In English use since 1852.

Concordat, n., a treaty to which the Vatican is a party. From the French. In English use since 1616.

Consul, n., a diplomat charged with protecting his nation’s commercial interests and the interests of expatriate citizens in a foreign locale. The official title is usually vice-consul, with a consul-general being in charge of a large consular staff. Duties include assisting businessmen, granting visas, replacing lost passports, and ensuring the rights of citizens who have been arrested by the host nation. A consulate is the building housing a consul’s offices. This may be part of the embassy, but not necessarily. (For example, the US Embassy to the Netherlands is in The Hague, but there is no consulate in that city; the US Consulate is in Amsterdam. And often, a country will have several consulates in another nation. Many nations have consulates in New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco in addition to Washington.) In the diplomatic sense since 1599. Originally a consul was the elected head of the body of merchants in a foreign port and acted as a representative of the merchants to the government. From the Latin title of the magistrates who ruled the Roman Empire.

Consular Agent, n., a person charged with carrying out consular duties in a city or region that does not justify a full consulate. Consular agents are usually expatriates and do the work part time.

Convention, n., a treaty, especially one between more than two states. From c. 1603 in the diplomatic sense, so called because of the assembly of nations that agrees to it.

Counselor, n., a senior embassy officer. In diplomatic use since 1914. Also spelled counsellor.

Country Desk, n., an office in the foreign ministry responsible for relations with a particular country.

Country Team, n., American diplomatic term for an ambassador’s senior staff, his “cabinet” as it were.

Delegation, n., an official party sent to a conference or on a special mission to represent the nation. From the Latin. This sense has been in use since 1818.

Démarche, n. and v., a diplomatic initiative or request; to take such an initiative or make a request. From the French. In diplomatic use since 1678.

Democratization, n., the process of rendering or becoming more democratic. From 1865.

Détente, n., the easing of tensions between two nations. From the French for loosening or relaxing. In English use since 1908. Détente also has a specific historical sense of the improved US-Soviet relations in the early 1970s.

Diplomatic Corps, n., the body of diplomats, from all nations, assigned to a capital.

Diplomatic Illness, n., a feigned illness to avoid attending an event without giving offense. Also diplomatic deafness, choosing not to hear what one wishes were not said.

Diplomatic immunity, n., the exemption from arrest, taxes, and searches granted to diplomats in the host country. Diplomatic immunity may be waived by the diplomat’s home country. The term has been in use since 1911, but the concept is ancient.

Embassy, n., originally a diplomatic mission, now it usually refers to the chancery building(s), although technically the ambassador’s residence is the embassy building. From the Old French ambassée, since 1600 in English.

Entente, n., an understanding or agreement, particularly one that entails close cooperation to achieve a mutual objective, or historically the name for the pre-WWI defensive pact between England and France of 1904 which Russia later joined in 1908. A clipping of the French entente cordiale. The clipped form has been in English use since 1854, the full form from 1844.

Envoy, n., a senior diplomat. Formerly envoy was an official title for a diplomat ranking directly below an ambassador, the term no longer refers to a specific rank. Now it is most often used as a clipped form of envoy extraordinary, or an envoy on a temporary mission. From the French. In English use since 1660.

Extraterritoriality, n., the legal exercise of national sovereignty on the territory of another state. Originally limited to diplomatic persons and embassy property, the concept was later extended to other nationals living abroad and other places. Example: American and British control of Iraqi airspace since the 1991 Gulf War is an extraterritorial power given the two nations by the ceasefire agreement. Since 1836.

Fallback position, n., a planned compromise in negotiations if the initial position is not acceptable to the other side. An American political term from the 1960s, it was first used in diplomacy by Jimmy Carter in 1978. A rule of thumb for a good backstopping group is never to give a fallback position to the negotiating team, because the negotiators will usually propose it to the other side at the first hint of disagreement.

Foggy Bottom, n., derisive nickname for the US State Department. Named for the Washington neighborhood where the department has been located since 1947. The neighborhood is so called because it was once a low area of swamps along the Potomac River. Washington Post journalist Edward Folliard is popularly credited with coining the departmental nickname, c. 1948.

Human rights, n., inalienable right to political freedom. Thomas Paine first used the term in his 1791 The Rights of Man. The preferred term for the next 150 years, however, was rights of man, or droits de l’homme, although human rights remained in occasional use. Human rights became the diplomatic term of art in 1945 when it was used in the United Nations Charter. The term came to the fore in the 1970s with the rise of groups like Amnesty International and when President Carter announced that human rights would be a major goal of US foreign policy.

Interagency, n. and adj., bureaucratic decision-making structure of the US government. Routine US foreign policy and other governmental decisions are most often made in meetings attended by representatives of interested departments and agencies, or interagency meetings.

Legation, n., a diplomatic mission. From the Latin, in English since 1460. In US usage, a legation was a mission headed by someone of less than ambassadorial rank. Until the mid-20th century, most American diplomatic missions were legations, not embassies. This specific American usage is now obsolete.

Linkage, n., a negotiating strategy of holding progress on an issue hostage to progress on another unrelated issue, e.g., the United States granting most-favored nation status to China conditional on improvements in human rights. The diplomatic sense was popularized by Henry Kissinger’s use of it, but it has been State Department jargon since the mid-1960s.

Mission, n., a body of diplomats assigned to country or making a specific representation. In US usage, it is a permanent diplomatic establishment, especially one to an international organization, such as the United Nations. From the Latin. Since 1626.

Most Favored Nation, adj., a trade negotiations term for equality in commercial status. It does not mean, as one might think, that a most-favored nation gets special treatment, rather it means that no one else gets better. In use since 1905.

Multilateral, adj., denoting diplomacy between three or more countries, as opposed to bilateral diplomacy. In diplomatic use since 1802. Also, it is informally used as a noun to denote a multilateral meeting or agreement, particularly when there is simultaneous bilateral diplomacy on the same subject.

Nation-Building, adj. and n., the creation of the political and economic infrastructure of a modern, politically and socially stable state. Used as an adjective since 1913, as a noun since 1971.

NGO, n., abbreviation for non-governmental organization. The term is used for organizations like Amnesty International and the International Red Cross that attend diplomatic conferences.

Non-paper, n., an (supposedly) unofficial, written proposal put forward during negotiations. Unlike a paper, its official counterpart, a non-paper can quickly be retracted or abandoned if agreement is not forthcoming.

On the margins, adj. phrase, negotiations and business conducted at a meeting that is not on the official agenda. From the idea that such discussions are off to the side, on the margins of the room. Usually, such on-the-margins discussions are what result in real progress in negotiations, with the official agenda left to posturing and ratification of on-the-margins agreements from past meetings. Also at the margins.

Persona non grata, adj., an unwelcome person. When a country wishes to expel a diplomat, they declare him persona non grata. Also PNG, which is also used as a verb, “he was PNGed because they suspected him of being a spy.” From the Latin. Since 1904.

Pouch, n., sealed container holding diplomatic correspondence that is not subject to opening or inspection by the host country, fully diplomatic pouch (1958). In British parlance, diplomatic bag (1816). The pouch is not necessarily small, any container or box, sometimes quite large, can be a diplomatic pouch.

Protocol, n., 1) an agreement or treaty, especially an addendum that clarifies or adds to another, older agreement. From the Old French prothocole, In English use since 1541. 2) the traditions of diplomatic courtesy and precedence, from French, 1896. This second definition is ultimately from the same root as the first, but is a modern borrowing.

Public diplomacy, n., an appeal to the populace of another nation in an attempt to influence their government’s policy. Colin Powell is conducting public diplomacy when he appears on Al Jazeera television.

Ratify, v., to approve, make valid, especially regarding a treaty. Treaties are signed upon the conclusion of negotiations, whereupon they are sent to the respective capitals for ratification. The process of ratification varies country by country. In the United States, the president ratifies a treaty after the Senate has given its consent. The Senate debate and vote is often mistakenly referred to as ratification; it is officially advice and consent.

Realpolitik, n., diplomatic strategy based on self-interest and power rather than moral or ideological grounds. In German from 1853, English from 1914.

Recognition, n., acknowledgement of the independence and sovereignty of one state by another, also the acknowledgement that a government is the legitimate and actual ruler of a state. From the Latin. In diplomatic use since 1824.

Sanction, n., economic or limited military action taken by a state against another to compel adherence to an agreement. A legal term since c. 1633, it has been in diplomatic use since 1919. From the Latin, possibly via French.

Seventh Floor, n., the senior leadership of the US State Department, the secretary of state and his inner circle of assistants and advisers. From the fact that the secretary’s office is on the seventh floor of the State Department building.

Shuttle diplomacy, n., negotiations carried out through an intermediary who travels between the respective capitals. Since 1974.

State Department, n., the foreign ministry of the United States. Originally the Department of Foreign Affairs, in 1789 Congress gave the department responsibility for record keeping, publishing and distributing proclamations and laws, and authenticating official documents and renamed it the Department of State. Over the years these domestic functions expanded and contracted and are now limited to a few functions of protocol, but the name remains. Many US states have Departments of State that perform those record keeping and protocol functions for the state government.

Summit, n. and v., a meeting between heads of government. From the idea that the meeting is at the highest level. Diplomatic use coined by Winston Churchill in 1950. As a verb since 1972.

Treaty, n., an agreement between nations. In diplomatic use since 1430. From the Old French traité.

Visa, n., written permission to enter a country. From the French. In English use since 1831.

Walk in the woods, n.phr., an unofficial, private meeting between negotiators aimed at resolving thorny issues. From a literal walk in the woods taken in Geneva in 1982 by American arms control negotiator Paul Nitze and his Soviet counterpart Yuri Kvitinsky that eventually led to the Intermediate-range Nuclear Forces Treaty.

Walking back the cat, v.phr., US State Department slang for retreating from a negotiating position. Of metaphorical origin.

White Paper, n., an official government position accompanied by a rationale. From the British government practice of presenting long statements of policy or draft legislation to parliament bound in blue covers, blue books, and shorter ones in white covers, white papers. Blue book remains British government jargon, but white paper has gained international currency. Since c. 1955.

Zero-sum, adj., a diplomatic situation where there is no mutually beneficial outcome possible, one side will win and the other lose. From game theory. Coined in 1944 by John Von Neumann and Oskar Morganstern. Also non-zero-sum.

Slang in Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Part 1)

1 October 2002

(This is part one of a two-part article. The second installment will appear in the November issue.)

It is not unusual for movies to use accents and dialects to create mood and a sense of location. Whether it is Meryl Streep adopting a Polish accent in Sophie’s Choice, Joe Pesci playing the out of towner with a New York accent in My Cousin Vinnie, or the entire cast of the Coen brothers’ Fargo setting the location in rural Minnesota, the use of dialect in entertainment is well established. The use of dialect in television, however, is rarer. Sure there is the occasional character from New York who is readily identifiable by his accent and use of youse guys, but other uses are of dialect relatively rare. One show, however, that makes good use of dialect, but not always the dialect of a particular place, is Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (hereafter BtVS) is a popular American television series broadcast in the United States on the WB (1997-2001) and UPN (2001+) networks. The series started in the spring of 1997 and is based on a rather unmemorable 1992 movie of the same title. The show concerns the adventures of Buffy Summers, a Southern California teenager who has been chosen by mysterious and unnamed powers to be the “Slayer.” The Slayer is a girl with preternatural strength and abilities called to rid the world of vampires and other demons. Buffy and her friends fight all manner of evil creatures in the fictional Southern California town of Sunnydale, under the guidance of Giles, an English librarian and Buffy’s “watcher.”

BtVS is a blend of genres, combining horror, martial arts, comedy, morality play, teen drama, and romance. It is sophisticated and eclectic, mixing slapstick with jokes about Sophocles’s Oedipus The King and questions about a soul’s ability to be redeemed with well choreographed and intense martial arts sequences. The premise is fantastic, but the characters are realistic. The acting is of high quality and the writing is tight and witty. It is one of the best shows currently on network television.

The show is also inventive, pushing the envelope of creativity. This past season featured a musical episode where a dancing demon came to Sunnydale, forcing the characters to sing their darkest secrets to one another. Hush, perhaps the best episode of the series, features 28 minutes without dialogue. Another episode that dealt with the death of a major character had no musical soundtrack, underscoring the characters’ grief with eerie silence.

But the most consistently creative element of the show is its use of language. The series is interesting linguistically for several reasons. One is its heavy reliance on slang to set the mood and establish the characters. As series creator Joss Whedon describes the students of Sunnydale High School in the script of the first episode, “They could be from anywhere in America, but for the extremity of their dress and the esoteric mania of their slang. This is definitely So. Cal.”

The characters are also self-aware of their language. Like many of the readers of this newsletter, Buffy is at times puzzled by etymology. At one point she comments, “they had tools, torches, the whole nine yards...What does that mean? The whole nine yards...nine yards of what? Now that’s gonna bug me all day.” When Buffy’s friend Willow is accused of being drunk, she defends herself by changing the subject to linguistics, “Drunk is a pretty strong word. Kind of an Anglo-Saxon word. Guttural. ‘Drunk.’” In another episode, Willow also muses over the proper past tense form of to slay, wondering if it is slayed or slew. Giles assures her that both are correct.

Another point of linguistic interest is that the writers attempt, with varying degrees of success, to incorporate realistic accents and regional usages to mimic the speech patterns found in various places in the US and the British Isles. This effort has not been lost on the fans of the show, who have dubbed the language of the show Slayerspeak.

Slayerspeak v. Real Teenspeak
Slayerspeak, however, is not a completely realistic depiction of how California teens talk. Sure it uses some aspects of actual teen slang, but Whedon and the writers do not deliberately attempt to be faithful to California teen-speak. They did in one scene in the first episode:

APHRODESIA [speaking to AURA]: The new kid? She seems kind of weird to me. And what kind of name is Buffy?
GIRL [as she passes by]: Hey, Aphrodesia.
APHRODESIA: Hey.
AURA: Well, the chatter in the caf is that she got kicked out and that’s why her mom had to get a new job.
APHRODESIA: Neg.
AURA: Pos. She was starting fights.
APHRODESIA (opening her locker): Negly!
AURA (opening hers): Well, I heard it from Blue, and she saw the transcripts— (Something flies out of the locker at her! She screams as the dead body of the boy from the opening [scene] collapses on her, eyes horribly wide.)

Whedon says they toned down the “wacky California-speak” after the first episode because the audience didn’t understand or respond to it. Now the characters still speak oddly, but Whedon says it is “based on the way I and the writers speak rather than anything we think teenagers might want to say.”

Instead Slayerspeak is made of several elements:
• Actual slang terms;
• BtVS-specific jargon;
• Nonce coinages that fall into several distinct derivational pattern;
• Coinages based on references to popular culture; and
• Speech patterns, catchwords, and phrases particular to an individual character.

Actual Slang Terms
Unsurprisingly, the most common slang term in BtVS is cool. It’s used both as an adjective denoting hip or desirable and as an interjection denoting approval. The opposite of cool is lame and those who aren’t cool are given a variety of common slang names, such as nerd, geek, and dork.

Another word that gets multiple uses is extreme. Gym class is cancelled one day due to an extreme dead guy in the locker. A teacher has an extreme toupee. And the adjective is also used to describe a great summer vacation.

Among nouns, thing gets wide use. It has three primary senses. Most commonly it is used as a generic term for an object or abstraction. Buffy refers to the homework thing or the prophecy thing. Often the insertion of the word is completely superfluous. Buffy’s friend Willow asks the vampire Angel, “the reflection thing, that you don’t have, Angel, how do you shave?”

A thing is also used generically as an excuse to depart. Buffy’s friend Xander, who harbors a secret crush on Buffy that is never to be fulfilled, asks Willow to leave so he can ask Buffy out on a date by saying, “Willow, don’t you have a thing?” To which Willow replies, “A thing? The thing! That I have! Which is a thing. I have to go to it. See you later!”

Thing is also used specifically to refer to a crush or emotional feelings for another. Buffy’s advice to Giles on asking a woman out is, “just say, ‘Hey, I got a thing, you’re maybe feeling a thing, and there could be a thing.’” And Willow comments on Xander’s unrequited love for Buffy, “cause you kinda got a thing there and she kinda has a thing...elsewhere.”

The slang verb that gets the most use is to hang, meaning to keep company. Buffy is always hanging with the creepy librarian in that creepy library. Secondary meanings include to wait or to loiter. Buffy wonders why vampires are hanging at the park. A less frequent variant is hang out.

Another frequently used verb is to deal, meaning to cope with. Buffy comments, “and that shirt...Deal with that outfit for a moment” and “it’s just, I have so much to deal with...” Deal is also used as a noun, meaning situation, as in What’s her deal?

But perhaps the slang term most associated with BtVS is to wig, meaning to get upset and panicky. According to Buffy, parents tend to wig if their child is not a “picture perfect carbon copy of themselves.” The adjectival form is wiggy.

The word can also be used as a noun. Buffy says that ventriloquists’ dummies give her the wig. A second noun form is wiggins, meaning a creepy or scary feeling. Buffy says, “that place kind of gives me a wiggins.” And her friend Xander describes a creepy situation as a fair wiggins.

Other actual slang terms that are used include: to yak (vomit), come with, my bad, to bail (to leave and on one occasion is used as a noun meaning a rescue, thanks for the bail), to ditch (to leave, abandon), wuss, and of course dude (although this last one is most often by minor characters).

Slayerspeak is not limited to particular terms. It also includes particular patterns of speech. One of its characteristics is the use of negative constructions. The adverb not is frequently used to negate a statement. Instead of saying it is good, Xander opines that Buffy’s timing really doesn’t suck and he sarcastically describes himself as very not pathetic. The local nightclub is not happening.

Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll
In general, sex is a rich topic for slang terms and BtVS is no exception. In the first few seasons, however, when the characters are still in high school, sex is largely limited to smoochies. Boyfriends are cuddle-monkeys and romantic situations are cuddlesome. When a witch casts a love spell, she invokes the great roofie spirit. When the characters graduate on to college, sex becomes more of a staple of the show, but while the characters discuss sex frequently, many of the standard slang terms for sex remain rare—presumably because of the network censors.

Oddly, because censors pass judgment on the scripts, not the filmed version, it may be easier to show characters having sex than to have them talk about it. In a Halloween episode, Willow dresses as a streetwalker, but the script refers to her dressing as a total rocker babe.

Of all the characters, only two regularly use slang terms when speaking about sex. Spike, the English vampire, talks about shagging and taking a poke. The other one is Faith, another Slayer, who tends to refer to sex with a gutteral unh! (She also uses unh! in reference to killing vampires—the relationship between combat and sex is a recurring theme in the series.) Faith also refers to it as doing the horizontal two-step and to late-night encounters in the smootch spot as kicking the old gearshift. Of all the characters, Faith alone uses screw to mean engage in sexual intercourse. (Many of the characters use the phrases screwed up (messed up) and we’re screwed (in trouble).) Faith avoids long-term relationships, preferring to get some and get gone. She refers to her lovers as boy-toys and sex can be either with kinks or vanilla. And when Willow comes out of the closet, Faith rather uncharitably notes that Willow is not driving stick anymore.

A few other characters use the occasional sexual slang terms, such as hottie, butch, horny, randy, mack, or boink. A good-looking woman is matressable and, if the guy is lucky, also a bunny in the sack (with Viking in the sack being the male equivalent).

On the broader subject of sexuality, BtVS uses a few slang or nonce terms. To be male is to be in guy-ville, and when Willow needs help understanding her boyfriend she turns to Xander, who is a translator from the Y-side.

Drugs, another rich source of slang in the real world, get short shrift on BtVS. None of the characters are drug users and slang terms for drugs are utterly absent. Alcohol gets a few hits, but again not many as none of the characters are drinkers. Buffy refers to drinking alone in one’s home as Lost Weekending. Cold beer is frosty nectar. But that is about the extent of it.

Popular music also gets relatively few script references. The show regularly features up-and-coming Southern Californian bands that play in local Sunnydale hangouts, but music isn’t a big deal in the scripts. And when it is mentioned, usually it’s references to bands from the 70s and 80s (probably because the writers are in their 30s and 40s and that’s their frame of reference). Hence, Buffy refers to a gathering of vampires as a scare-a-palooza, a reference to the Lalapalooza rock concert. She calls a vampire wearing out-of-date clothes DeBarge, referencing an ‘80s rock band remembered more for their bizarre costumes than their music. And Willow refers to herself as a groupie when she starts dating a musician.

One episode features a nice display of music jargon that excludes a non-musician. Willow finds her musician boyfriend and an attractive female singer in conversation about amplifiers. They are tossing about jargon terms such as Hound Dog and Redbone (brand names of amplifiers). Willow, to her embarrassment, misinterprets the conversation, mistakenly thinking they are discussing Elvis songs.

BtVS-Specific Jargon
One would expect that a television series devoted to the occult and heavily reliant on slang to set the tone and mood would develop jargon terms specific to the series. While there are such terms, they are surprisingly few.

Among the terms limited to the series are those relating to vampires and other monsters. We have the clipped vamp for vampire and sire, denoting a vampire that creates another from one of his victims (not everyone bitten in the Buffyverse becomes a vampire, most just die). A werewolf wolfs out or is wolfy at the sight of a full moon. And the slang verb to suck is frequently used as a double entendre for something bad as well as a vampire attack. Buffy tells a vampire to suck on another town or refers to them having a suckfest.

Other terms include those that refer specifically to Buffy and her demon-hunting friends. They refer to themselves as the Scooby Gang, a pop culture reference to the 70s cartoon series Scooby Doo that is about ghost-hunting teenagers. A particularly nasty monster is a big bad, and the vampire Spike likes to refer to himself as the Big Bad.

So while BtVS doesn’t exactly mirror Southern California teen slang, it does make good use of elements of that slang in setting the mood and establishing the characters. The real linguistic joy of BtVS, however, is how the writers use a few derivational rules and patterns to create a panoply of unique slang terms and phrases. Next month, in part two of the article, we will examine how Joss Whedon and company go about this.

Book Review: Nigger: The Strange Career of a Troublesome Word

1 October 2002

Randall Kennedy has penned an insightful, thought-provoking, and balanced discussion of what he terms (in a gross understatement) “a troublesome word.” Nigger is perhaps the last surviving language taboo in American discourse. It is a word with tremendous social impact. It has been used as a justification for murder, university professors have been stripped of tenure merely for uttering it, and it is the one word that white rap artist Eminem refuses to utter.

Kennedy opens the book with a discussion of the word’s etymology, pointing out that it is from the Latin for black and that initially it was not derogatory. But by the early 19th century nigger had acquired a distinct offensiveness. Not only was it used to denigrate African-Americans, but it also served as social marker for the whites who uttered it; it is not a word used by the polite classes. Kennedy spends much of the first chapter giving examples of the cruelty and oppression delivered upon African-Americans over the centuries by whites using that term.

Kennedy then rapidly shifts gears and outlines other uses that the word has been put to. He discusses the comedy routines of Richard Pryor and Chris Rock, its use in rap music, and how it is often used as a compliment among some African-Americans. These other usages are not without controversy. Some find the word so inherently offensive they cannot bear any use of it. And there is the question whether there are any circumstances where a white person is justified in using it. Kennedy makes the important point that the word is more complex than just a straightforward slur.

The second chapter is devoted to the legal status of the word. Kennedy, a Harvard Law School professor and former clerk to US Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall, outlines four types of cases where the word has come to court. The first is where convicted African-Americans seek relief after it is revealed that prosecutors, judges, and jurors have used the term. In the past, the chances of receiving a new trial based on such evidence were slim to none, but in recent years this has undergone a dramatic reversal.

The second type of case is where an African-American defendant uses a white victim’s use of the word as a mitigating circumstance, usually attempting to get murder charges reduced to manslaughter. Generally such attempts have met with failure due to the “mere words” doctrine, which holds that words alone, no matter how offensive, cannot justify violence.

Kennedy’s third category of cases consists of those where African-Americans seek damages under anti-discrimination statutes and his fourth concerns cases where judges must decide whether juries should hear about the use of the term by witnesses and litigants (most famously in the O.J. Simpson trial, where police officer Mark Fuhrman had frequently used the word in the past). These generally meet with success, although the mere use of the word is usually insufficient in and of itself to justify claims for damages and sometimes judges rule that disclosing the linguistic habits of witnesses is sometimes more prejudicial than probative.

Kennedy concludes that the American legal system today, as a whole, has a rather balanced and fair view of the term. It is treated as a highly offensive term and indicative of racism and prejudice against African-Americans, but mere use of the word is not necessarily justification for reduced sentences or award of damages. Each case must be viewed in its entirety and on its own merits.

The third and substantively final chapter (the fourth chapter is simply a short summary) addresses the dangers of censorship and taking excessive offense at any use of the term.

One of these dangers is hypersensitivity. Many are familiar with the case of David Howard, a Washington, DC city official who, in 1999, used the term niggardly, which is etymologically and semantically unrelated to its offensive sound-alike. In storm of public outcry, Howard resigned and was subsequently rehired to an equivalent position. In another case that happened the same year halfway across the country, an African-American student at the University of Wisconsin stormed out of a classroom in tears when her white, English Literature professor discussed Chaucer’s use of niggard in class. The professor had specifically made the point to the class that the two words were unrelated and that Chaucer was not discussing blacks. The student subsequently sought to have a campus speech code set into place that would prevent any professor from using any word that might possibly cause offense. In the Howard case, no one can deny that his use of the term was shortsighted and bound to be misinterpreted. Howard made a very poor choice among several possible alternatives. But the Wisconsin case is clearly one of unalloyed hypersensitivity.

Kennedy also addresses the 1997 attempt to force Merriam-Webster to change its primary definition of nigger because some judged it to be insulting. The protesters held that the definition, which read “a black person—usu. taken to be offensive,” was a derogatory label for all blacks. While Kennedy has no sympathy for the protesters in this case, believing that they are simply taking offense where there is none to be taken, he does have criticism for Merriam-Webster’s reaction. Some of their arguments in defense are just as ludicrous—although the ones at the core are correct. Merriam-Webster tried to argue that the word was included because their criteria for inclusion were scholarly ones and that it was an important word—certainly true—but also admitted that they left the word out of certain editions based on the recommendations of their marketing department. Kennedy says they can’t have it both ways.

Kennedy’s other cases of hypersensitivity address the use of nigger by whites and in contexts where it is intended to be heard by white audiences. It is one thing for Chris Rock to use the term to address his African-American audience, but can Quentin Tarantino, a white, use it in his movie Pulp Fiction to address an African-American friend? Kennedy again comes through with a very balanced conclusion. While any use of the word by whites is suspect and should not be undertaken likely, the word is not the property of African-Americans. Tarantino’s use of the word should be judged by how it is used in the movie. His work should be judged by the standards of art criticism, not by his race.

A second danger that Kennedy points out relates to Huckleberry Finn and other words of literature that use the term. It is not as if these works are sacrosanct and should be immune from criticism, but most of the criticism leveled against them isn’t critical. It comes from people who count the number of times the word is used and then declare offense. Instead they should consider how the word is used), and consider the entire book in context. Twain invariably uses the word in criticism of slavery and discrimination and as a mark of the prejudice of the whites who use it, not than as a slur against the intended African-American targets. The book, however, can offend and teachers should take care in their instruction, but that doesn’t mean that it should be stripped from the curriculum.

The final danger that Kennedy addresses has to do with excessive punishments for people who use the word. He features the case of a white, university basketball coach who used the term in front of his players in a complimentary fashion to mean a hard-charging player who performed at the highest levels on the court. Prior to using the word, he asked his black players if they would be offended. To a man they said no. When word of the coach’s use of the term leaked out, he lost his job.

Kennedy doesn’t defend the coach’s use of the term. It was in questionable taste and shortsighted. But he does object to the punishment. A reprimand would have been appropriate; firing was excessive. Interestingly, this contrasts with an earlier discussion of a district attorney who was removed when he was overheard using the word in a bar. Kennedy applauds this dismissal. Again, Kennedy comes through with a balanced and reasonable argument. The district attorney has tremendous discretion and power. He decides what criminal charges to bring. He decides whether or not to seek the death penalty for certain crimes. A district attorney must be beyond reproach, without a hint of racism or bias. The same does not apply to a college basketball coach. Again, context is vital.

Kennedy’s book is an excellent monograph on the word and its use and place in American society today.

Hardcover; 256 pages; Pantheon Books; ISBN: 0375421726; 8 Jan 2002; $22.00.

Word of the Month: Halloween

1 October 2002

The end of October is when all the ghosts and goblins come out. 31 October is Halloween and that is our word of the month. Presented here is something of a Halloween bestiary of spooks and specters (and some commonplace things) that one might find on the last night of the month.

Halloween, n., holiday celebrated on 31 October, supposedly the night that witches and demons emerge. The word is a clipping of All-Hallow Even. The modern, clipped form is from the 18th century, but All Hallow’s Eve dates to the 16th, and Allhallowmass, denoting all the saints, dates to 1083. According to the Celtic calendar, 1 November was the first day of the New Year. The night of last day of October was Old Year’s Night or the night of the witches. With the coming of Christianity, it was transformed into a holiday to celebrate the saints.

Bogle, n., a spectre, goblin, or phantom. Various forms exist, including boggard, boggart, boggle, and bogy. From 1500 in Scottish literature, in England a bit later. The ultimate origin is unknown, but it may be from the Welsh bwg or bug in English, also meaning a goblin or spectre.

Candy, n., a sweet confection, especially crystallized sugar. From the French candi, found in sucre candi. It makes its English appearance c. 1420 as sugar candy, clipped to candy by 1769.

Chocolate, n. and adj., a beverage (originally) or food made from cacao seeds and other flavorings. From the French chocolat, ultimately from the Mexican chocolatl. It is, interestingly, etymologically unrelated to cacao or cocoa.

Costume, n., clothing intended to represent a particular period or character. From the French, which in turn is from the Italian, and which ultimately is from the Latin consuetudinem (Cf. custom). In English use since 1715. Originally a term used by Italian performance artists.

Demon, n., an evil spirit or being. From the Latin daemon, which in turn is taken from Greek mythos. From 1387 in English usage, but the earliest English usages reflect the Greek sense, a spirit that often guides the affairs of men. The sense of an evil being dates to c. 1400.

Fiend, n., the original meaning is simply an opponent or foe. From the Old English féond. The word originally appears in Beowulf. By c. 1000 fiend was being applied to Satan (the foe of humanity) or to other demons. Applied to evil people by c. 1220.

Ghost, n., now primarily used to denote the spirit of a deceased person who manifests itself to the living (1386). From the Old English gást, cognates are found in other West Germanic languages. Earlier senses include the soul or spirit of life; a spirit, good, evil, or neutral; the spirit of God (now only used in the phrase Holy Ghost); all dating to c. 1000 or earlier.

Ghoul, n., an evil spirit that robs graves and feeds on human corpses, by extension a human that does the same. From the Arabic ghūl, originally from Arabian folklore. Found in English from 1786.

Goblin, n., a demon. From the obsolete French gobelin. In use in English by c. 1327. The French word is not recorded until the 16th century, but there are 12th century references to a demon with the name Gobelinus. The ultimate origin is not known, perhaps from the Medieval Latin cobalus, a rogue or knave.

Imp, n., a small devil or demon. From the Old English impa. The original sense was a graft or scion of a tree or plant, from c. 897. It was applied to children by c. 1380. The sense of a child of the devil or of hell dates to 1526.

Jack O’Lantern, n., a lantern made from a hollowed-out pumpkin and a candle, with holes cut in the rind to represent eyes, nose, and mouth. This sense dates to 1837. Older senses meaning a man with a lantern and a will-o’-the-wisp date to the 17th century.

Lycanthrope, n., a mentally ill person who imagines himself an animal, especially a wolf. Recorded in ancient Greek texts, it makes its English appearance in 1584 (lycanthropy). From the Greek for wolf + man. 19th century writers began using it as synonym for werewolf.

Mischief Night, n., night that children commit pranks and vandalism, often with the mistaken belief that the law allows them one night a year to do so. Various nights of the year qualify depending on the region. 30 October, the night before Halloween, is a popular choice. Called Devil’s Night in some parts of the US (e.g., Michigan), it is often associated with arson and more serious crimes. From 1865.

Ogre, n., a man-eating monster, a giant. English usage dates to 1713. From the French. First used in that language in 1697. Possibly formed from the Italian dialectical *ogro, which may be from the Latin orca, or whale.

Orc, n., a monster or ogre. From 1598. Perhaps taken from the Latin orca, a whale. Although there is a single use of orcneas in Beowulf to denote monsters. A rare word until J.R.R. Tolkien used it in The Hobbit (1937) to describe a warlike race of goblins.

Pumpkin, n., a type of orange squash, Cucurbita pepo. A 17th century alteration of pompion, which in turn is from an obsolete French name for the melon.

Spook, n., a spectre, apparition, or ghost. From 1801 in American usage, 1859 in British. Either from the Dutch spook or the German spuk. Forms first appear in Middle Low German, the ultimate etymology is not known.

Trick or Treat, int., traditional American request for candy given by children going door-to-door in their neighborhoods, originally a threat of vandalism unless they were appeased with candy. Surprisingly, the term can only be dated to 1941, when the Saturday Evening Post published a poem by that title. In 1937 that magazine ran a cover illustration titled Trick or Treaters. The practice may not be that much older, perhaps only dating to the 1930s, instituted as a means of controlling children bent on mischief.

Troll, n., from Scandinavian mythology a race of supernatural beings. Once depicted as giants, they shrunk over the centuries and became a dwarfish race living a subterranean existence. From the Swedish and Old Norse troll. The word makes its English appearance in the 19th century, except in the Shetland and Orkney Islands where it has survived as a relic of the Norse dialect originally spoken there. The modern Shetland/Orkney form is trow.

Vampire, n., a supernatural being that feeds of the blood of humans. In English use from c. 1734. The English word is borrowed from French. The ultimate origin is uncertain. Some trace it to the Hungarian vampir, others to Serbian. Cognates exist in most European languages.

Warlock, n., primarily used today to mean a male witch. From the Old English wǽrloga, originally meaning an oath breaker or traitor. The word has had many senses including: a wicked person; a damned soul; Satan; a devil or demon; and a monster; all of which date to c. 1000 or before. The sense of a person or demon in league with Satan and who practices sorcery dates to the 14th century.

Werewolf, n., a person who is capable of changing into a wolf, usually, according to folklore, during a full moon. The word makes one appearance in Old English, werewulf, c. 1000. Usually thought to be a combination of wer (man) + wulf (wolf), but the extra e confounds linguists, it shouldn’t be there. Other combining forms drop the e, as in wergeld. Cognates exist in Dutch and German.

Wicca, n., the name given to the modern, religious practice of witchcraft. Revival of the Old English wicca (Cf. witch). In modern use since 1959.

Witch, n., a practitioner of magic or sorcery, usually depicted as a woman, but a witch can be either male or female. From the Old English wicca (masc., c. 890) and wicce (fem., c. 1000).

Book Review: The Way We Talk Now

1 September 2002

Since 1989, linguist Geoffrey Nunberg has been a regular commentator on National Public Radio’s Fresh Air. He regularly delivers essays about the changing nature of the American language. The Way We Talk Now is a collection of some of the best of these radio essays.

His essays cover the spectrum of language change, from etymology to the influence of politics on language to grammar and usage issues. His subjects include cigarette jingles, how the meaning of superman has changed over the years, what is a cult, and spelling bees.

Nunberg takes a compromise position in the debate over whether change in the language is a good thing. He recognizes that rules like never splitting an infinitive are silly and have no basis in good grammar, yet he does admit there is such a thing as good writing and speech and that not all changes are to the good. He writes in his essay on the Ebonics controversy of 1997, “it has nothing to do with the ‘the language of Shakespeare.’ Their immediate task is to teach their charges to speak like kids in middle-class suburbs, so that they can grow up to become competent speakers of the brutalist clatter of the American political and business worlds. They don’t have to talk like James Baldwin, but it is clearly to their advantage to be able to give a passable imitation of George Bush.”

Perhaps the first thing that strikes you about the essays is the wit. Nunberg is genuinely funny. He compares E.B. White’s Charlotte to a public relations executive, “so she gets a rat to pick some clippings out the garbage, and then she spins a gossamer of words out of her rear, and all of a sudden everyone’s looking at the pigsty with new eyes.” In another essay he takes on the implications of a grammar quiz that appears in Cosmopolitan magazine, “just the thing to keep him interested. That pretty little mouth of yours drawn in a pout as it closes around a whom.”

If there is a problem with the book, it is that there is no organizing principle other than discussion of our changing language. Still, since this is a collection of essays written over a 13-year span, this is to be expected. The essay format makes the book ideal for snatching a quick read when you have two or three minutes to spare. It can be picked up and put down again without loss of continuity—perfect for subway or airplane reading.

Houghton Mifflin, 256 pp, Oct. 2001, paperback, $14.00.