Do not grab paper

The printer in my department at university can be set to print on both sides of the paper. If you choose this option, a message appears on the little screen instructing you:

Do not grab paper until printing is complete.

Grab is a word you don't see written down that often. It has a very specific meaning, involving a hasty movement and perhaps negative connotations. Normally, you're being told not to grab (usually if you're a child), or to grab something quickly with the implication that it's a slightly naughty thing to do. Imagine you're at a buffet, and there are chocolate brownies at the end of the table. You're still getting sandwiches, but you say I'm going to grab a brownie while they're still there. You shouldn't really, because you're effectively queue-jumping, so it's a very slight misdemeanour.

In this case, the verb is very appropriate. It is a bad thing to grab the paper too soon, as you will spoil the printing and possibly damage the printer. But also, grabbing is exactly what you would have to do. They could have said Do not take paper until printing is complete, but by using grab, a very clear image of quickly reaching in and trying to take a bit of moving paper is conjured up, and the repercussions of said action are also brought to mind.

Quasar and portmanteaus

I learnt recently that the word quasar is a portmanteau from quasi-stellar. A portmanteau is a word made from bits of two other words, the canonical example being brunch (from breakfast and lunch). We have lots of them, and they tend to be a bit silly, like spork or celebrity nicknames like Jedward. Interestingly, Tanzania is a portmanteau, from Tanganyika and Zanzibar, the two countries that made up the new independent republic.

What struck me about quasar is that it's a noun (it's a very energetic and distant active galactic nucleus, according to Wikipedia), but it's formed from an adjective (quasi-stellar). Looking into it, it's quickly obvious that it's because quasi-stellar is only part of a longer noun phrase, quasi-stellar radio source. Presumably, bods at quasar research facilities referred to them first by their full name, then pretty quickly shortened it to quasi-stellar (the radio source part can be assumed, after all, when what you do is look at radio sources) and then that was the part that got blended.

Word puzzle

Here's a puzzle that's on the Crystal Maze iphone app (I don't have the app, I'm not recommending it, just stole this puzzle which is on the review page):

Mary is 24. Mary is twice as old as Ann was when Mary was the age Ann is now. How old is Ann?

Answer after the break.

Dan Brown and his writing skills

Just because it's always fun (and easy) to poke fun at Mr Brown and his use (some might say abuse) of language, here's an oldish link to Tom Chivers' favourite 20 sentences from Brown's five books. Some choice examples (the sarky comments are Chivers'):

The Da Vinci Code, chapter 4: As a boy, Langdon had fallen down an abandoned well shaft and almost died treading water in the narrow space for hours before being rescued. Since then, he'd suffered a haunting phobia of enclosed spaces - elevators, subways, squash courts.Other enclosed spaces include toilet cubicles, phone boxes and dog kennels.

The Da Vinci Code, chapter 5: Only those with a keen eye would notice his 14-karat gold bishop's ring with purple amethyst, large diamonds, and hand-tooled mitre-crozier appliqué.A keen eye indeed.

The Lost Symbol, chapter 1: He was sitting all alone in the enormous cabin of a Falcon 2000EX corporate jet as it bounced its way through turbulence. In the background, the dual Pratt & Whitney engines hummed evenly.The Da Vinci Code, chapter 17: Yanking his Manurhin MR-93 revolver from his shoulder holster, the captain dashed out of the office.Oh – the Falcon 2000EX with the Pratt & Whitneys? And the Manurhin MR-93? Not the MR-92? You’re sure? Thanks.

That last one is my particular bugbear. I once had to read a book for review that EVERY time a car, helicopter, gun, or any weapon or vehicle was mentioned, gave its precise make and model number. It was not only annoying and unnecessary, but also prevented me from following the story as I wasn't sure if the baddies were arriving in a helicopter or a car, or even if they had a gun or a helicopter some of the time.

(Disclaimer: I have read most of Dan Brown's books. They are as awful as people say, but they are also as compelling as people say. Seriously, you have to find out what ridiculous twist is going to happen next and what nonsensical plot device he's going to employ to get his character out of whatever pickle he's in. My favourite was when he had his hero survive a jump from a helicopter with no parachute. I won't spoil it, but suffice it to say he was lucky he was carrying his pocket handkerchief.)

Na'vi

One of the people I met at LAGB had learnt Na'vi, the fictional language of the film Avatar. I haven't seen the film, because it looks abysmal, but I have read about the language. The director, James Cameron (yes, he of Terminator, Aliens, The Abyss and Titanic - you get the idea) wanted a realistic-sounding language for his aliens to speak. And, almost unbelievably, he very nearly managed to ask a linguist. The creator of Na'vi, Paul Frommer, is not actually working as a linguist, but he did do a doctorate in linguistics so kudos to Cameron, I suppose.

Catching up after LAGB

I was away most of last week at the annual Linguistics Association of Great Britain meeting (held in Manchester this year). I had a great time, catching up with friends, meeting new ones, hearing some really cool papers and organising my pecha kucha night (which went really well, as good as I could have hoped for, even though there were few participants). My presentation is here.

Since then I've been catching up. To make up for the lack of posts, here's a bonanza of '40 fascinating lectures for linguistics geeks'.

Silver IPA symbol necklace

Here my linguistics and jewellery interests meet in the centre of the Venn diagram of my brain. This Etsy seller will make a necklace of an IPA symbol (your initial, or just the one you like best). Shame my IPA initials are the same as my orthographic initials.