Behind Door #23: Not So Random Random Numbers

If I wait long enough, some blogger will almost inevitably write about a question I’ve long puzzled over. The fine folks at Language Log, seem almost clarivoyant in this regard.

I’ve often wondered why it is that when we pick an ostensibly random number to use in a situation where we’re estimating an exaggerated amount, we often choose the same number or variations on the same number. Yesterday Arnold Zwicky provided a pretty compelling argument for why that number is often seventeen—for American anglophones, at least.

As interesting as I find his discussion, I frequently find myself reaching for numbers starting with eight, though: eighteen, eighty, eight hundred thousand—depending on what order of magnitude I want to exaggerate. When I lived in Sweden, I noticed that Swedes use a made-up number—femtioelva—fifty-eleven.

Behind Door #13: There Oughta Be a Word…

I came home from work (and class) tonight, and couldn’t think of a single thing appealing to eat, so I fell back on my favorite stand-by food: scrambled eggs. They’re quick. They’re easy. They’re not starchy. They’re great for using up leftovers: in tonight’s case, some pesto I had made, let’s just say a while ago, and some feta cheese that was trying to become Roquefort. (I know, I know. I don’t want to hear anything from those of you who know I’m a Cordon Bleu graduate.)

Anyhow, tonight’s culinary ennui seems to be part of a larger trend. I’m just not inspired by cooking these days. I only seem to enjoy meals I eat out—like last Saturday’s dinner at the Medford Szechuan joint that’s renewed my faith in Chinese food.

As I sat down to right tonight’s virtual Advent Calendar installment, I finally figured out that there’s a name for my problem: mealaise.

Behind Door #12: Word of the Year 2007?

The fine folks at Language Log recently blogged about Merriam-Webster choosing truthiness as the Word of the Year for 2006. (This on the heels of the American Dialect Society giving top honors to truthiness in 2005.)

I’ve decided to start campaigning now for my favorite neologism for next year: de-ubiquitinate.

Before I got my current job at Fancypants U., I worked at their medical school gathering CVs and other information from professors in order to apply for various government-sponsored medical research and training grants. The first proposal I worked on was for an immunology grant. Reading the various doctors’ research descriptions was like deciphering a foreign language. Most of the chemical names (5,6-deoxyalkyl-whatchamacallit) soared over my head until I got to one CV that talked about de-ubiquitination. (OK, that really went over my head too. I still don’t know what that means. I think ubiquitin is a protein, so I’m guessing it gets removed.)

It struck me that de-ubiquitination, shorn of any immunological connotations, could prove to be quite a useful concept—especially when applied to celebrities. Tired of all the hype surrounding TomKat? Brangelina? Brittany and KFed? Never fear, let’s just de-ubiqutinate them all.

Behind Door #5: Curses Foiled Again

Thanks to the always entertaining and enlightening crew at Language Log for pointing me to this article on Quebecois curse words in today’s Washington Post. Apparently when French Canadians feel the need to swear, they most often resort to religious paraphernalia. Chalices, tabernacles and wafers all figure prominently.

It’s funny how another culture’s epithets can sound innocent or even cutesy to foreign ears. Like Quebecois cursing, Swedish cursing also takes a decidedly religious bent — although Swedes are more likely to invoke the dark side.

Shame, the devil! Devilish devil in hell! Satan!

When I first managed to translate these common Swedish swear words, all I could think was that they sounded vaguely Amish.

You Can’t Take the Philly Outta the Girl

I’m generally skeptical about those ubiquitous Internet quizzes. You know the ones. You answer a bunch of half-assed questions, and you find out what character from Lost or which snack food you are.

So I almost ignored the Pharyngula post about a quiz that claims to tell you which regional American accent you have. Lo and behold, they pegged me as a Philadelphian. I didn’t even have to go back and fudge any answers either.

What American accent do you have? Your Result: Philadelphia   Your accent is as Philadelphian as a cheesesteak! If you’re not from Philadelphia, then you’re from someplace near there like south Jersey, Baltimore, or Wilmington. if you’ve ever journeyed to some far off place where people don’t know that Philly has an accent, someone may have thought you talked a little weird even though they didn’t have a clue what accent it was they heard.

What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes