While no one in their right mind condones driving drunk, a fact utterly lost on prohibitionists like MADD and Alcohol Justice, I thought the latest video PSA from the OLCC (Oregon Liquor Control Commission) was a clever holiday video employing holiday music and lights showing nearly two-dozen synonyms for being drunk. I wonder if they got these from my list of around 5,000 Drunk Words? Please be safe this holiday season.
Since When Is Being Uninhibited A Disease?
The prohibitionist propaganda machine that is Alcohol Justice is out in full swing today. They just sent out a tweet to the faithful, telling them. “Raising alcohol taxes reduces harm…it’s a fact.” We obviously have a different definition of what constitutes a “fact.” I tend to think of a fact as something not open to debate, not a position that everyone doesn’t agree with, or for which there is no counter-argument.
But the tweet also included the graphic below, which is a bottle showing all of the bullshit “harms” that AJ insists are caused by alcohol. I won’t get into each of them, or how almost all of them are potential things that can happen to a person who drinks immoderately, or can happen to any person for as many other reasons as there are people. They aren’t caused by the drink any more than a hamburger causes a heart attack. They may be a contributing factor for some people, but their continuing insistence that they are directly caused by any amount of alcohol goes a long way toward proving how out of touch with reality they are and just how fanatical and intrenched they’ve become in more recent years. Most people you and I know have been enjoying alcohol our entire lives without contracting any of these diseases or devolving to a life of crime. In fact, the moderate consumption of alcohol might actually make one healthier, a “fact” that Alcohol Justice now refuses to acknowledge, even as the FDA’s latest dietary recommendations make clear.
But look at the biggest one on the bottle, just below “liver disease.” Disinhibition? WTF? Since when is loosening up and not being such a tight-ass a disease that not only rivals brain damage, but given its prominent position on the bottle and the size of the type, appears to be one of the worst problems they associate with drinking. How many mental issues and how much stress is relieved by the occasional drink after work or with dinner, bringing about a “loss or reduction of an inhibition,” which is the Merriam-Webster definition of disinhibition. How is letting one’s hair down, so to speak, something to be feared and avoided? Given the company it’s keeping on their bottle of harms, it certainly seems clear that they regard it as a disease. I continue to marvel at the new and inventive ways that prohibitionists can try to pass judgement and make those of us actually “living” our lives feel guilty for enjoying ourselves.
The Essential Map Of Europe & Environs
Today’s infographic was sent to me last night by my good friend Maureen Ogle, author of Ambitious Brew, and the soon-to-be-published In Meat We Trust. She knows of my love of language and especially beer words. I have my own growing collection of the word Beer in Other Languages, but Feòrag NicBhrìde of Scotland created the Essential Map of Europe and Environs, which is essentially a map showing the various ways in which Europeans refer to beer, helpfully divided by language types or origins.
Cenosillicaphobia
Here’s an interesting word I’ve been seeing around the internet: Cenosillicaphobia. According to some sources, the Fact-Archive and the Urban Dictionary, the word means “the fear of an empty glass,” as “commonly experienced by drinkers.”
Although I can’t find it listed in any of my regular dictionaries, it seems to fit at least. It’s not in either of my two unabridged ones, including the Webster’s International 2nd edition, which my librarian sister-in-laws tells me is the gold standard. The closest word in my O.E.D. is “cenotaph,” which means “empty tomb.” So along with “sillica” for glass, the word “cenosillicaphobia” seems to fit the meaning, the “fear of an empty glass.”
So look at the photo below. If seeing the beer glass empty causes you to shudder involuntarily, you probably have cenosillicaphobia. Luckily, a cure is as close as the nearest keg, can or bottle.
Join Me On A Brannigan & Get Bibesy?
I stumbled onto yet another list of old words, this group on the Matador Network. 20 obsolete English words that should make a comeback includes some pretty cool words, like Scriptitation, which I think I engage in every single day. Scriptitation is “[a] 17th-century word meaning ‘continual writing'” But two in particular caught my eye as beer-related.
Brannigan
Noun – “A drinking bout; a spree or ‘binge’” – Brannigan was originally a North American slang word, but it is now rarely used. “Shall we go for a brannigan on Friday?” can be a more sophisticated way to discuss such activities.
I can’t imagine the root of that, unless of course there was some gut named Brannigan who was well-known for binge drinking.
Bibesy
Noun – “A too earnest desire after drink.” – “Bibesy” may have been completely made up in the 18th century and it’s unclear whether it ever made it into common use, but it could easily be used today: “Wedding guests waited anxiously for the bar to open; bibesy should be expected after such a long, dull service.”
Not sure about that one either, but there were a few other gems, too. “Twitter-light,” for example, once meant “a romantic way to refer to the hours as the sun goes down,” but I suspect would have a completely different meaning. Then there’s something I’m often accused of: Perissology. “Perissology” means the “Use of more words than are necessary; redundancy or superfluity of expression.” I completely disagree and will write a short, 10,000-word rebuttal on why it’s not true.
I’m not sure I’d vote for either of these beer words to make a comeback, but it’s always fun to find them.
Who’s Feeling Gambrinous?
File this one in the pile of obscure, antiquated words that we should try to resurrect. I found this one on the blog, Obsolete Word of the Day.
Gambrinous adj. Drunk; full of beer.
There’s also a secondary meaning according to Wordnik, which is “adj. Of or pertaining to Gambrinus.”
Cage, Agraffe Or Muselet?
Most of you already know I’m a freak for obscure words and language more generally, so I’ll always take a look at a list of curious words. One that I recently was looking over at Mental Floss included such gems as a dringle, which is “to waste time by being lazy,” perfectly describing what I was doing when I discovered that.
But the other word was agraffe, which they defined as being “the wire cage that keeps the cork in a bottle of champagne.” I’d heard the word muselet used before, usually in connection with champagne, but many brewers today also use them, though most people I know refer to them more simply as a “cage,” as in a “cage and cork,” or occasionally a “cage and crown.”
But agraffe is a new one on me. A quick search reveals that it’s more often used to refer to a part of a piano, “a guide at the tuning-pin end of the string, screwed into the plate, with holes through which the strings pass.” Most dictionaries I looked at didn’t mention the cage usage at all. Champagne.net does offer this definition.
Literally means “staple” (as in Swingline); in Champagne, this is a large metal clip used to secure the cork before capsules were invented, typically during the second fermentation and aging in bottle. A bottle secured with this clip is said to be agrafé.
Notice they also spell it with only one “f.” Wordnik, in their listing under Century Dictionary does list this usage, as the fifth definition. “n. An iron fastening used to hold in place the cork of a bottle containing champagne or other effervescing wine during the final fermentation.”
Muselet doesn’t show up in most standard dictionaries either, but it is defined, at least, by Wikipedia:
A muselet is a wire cage that fits over the cork of a bottle of champagne, sparkling wine or beer to prevent the cork from emerging under the pressure of the carbonated contents. It derives its name from the French museler, to muzzle. The muselet often has a metal cap incorporated in the design which may show the drink maker’s emblem. They are normally covered by a metal foil envelope. Muselets are also known as wirehoods or Champagne wires.
Neither word is included in the “Dictionary of Beer & Brewing” (2nd ed.), but then “cage” isn’t listed in it, either.
So does anybody know? Those of you in the wine world, is either term in common usage, and, if so, is one preferred over the other? Or are they generally only used in France, perhaps? It seems more likely that they were originally borrowed from the French into English, but have since fallen out of use, or perhaps their usage lingers only in the technical jargon of Champagne and sparking wine. Anyone, anyone? Bueller.
Zumologists In The Zythepsary
Here are some obsolete words that need to be brought back. We all know zymurgy is “the branch of applied chemistry dealing with fermentation, as in winemaking, brewing, the preparation of yeast, etc.” not to mention a magazine, and zymology “is the study of zymurgy, the area of applied science related to fermentation. It deals with the biochemical processes involved in fermentation, with yeast selection and physiology, and with the practical issues of brewing.” So far so good, but have you ever heard of these?
- Zumologist
- A brewer. Webster’s 1828 has this definition. “n. One who is skilled in the fermentation of liquors.” It’s also an alternate form of “zymologist.” And one dictionary claims this as its origins. “fr. Gk zume, to ferment + -ologist“
- Zumology
- Webster’s 1828 has this definition. “n. [Gr., ferment; to ferment; discourse.] A treatise on the fermentation of liquors, or the doctrine of fermentation.“
- Zythepsary
- A brewery, according to “Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary, published 1913 by C. & G. Merriam Co.” Apparently it’s from “Ancient Greek ζῦθος (zuthos, ‘barley beer’) + ἕψω (hepsō, ‘boil’)”
One 1835 dictionary lists the word thusly:
ZYTHEPSARY, zidi-iVser-4, n. A place for brewing ; a brewery ; a brewhouse. A pronouncing and explanatory dictionary of the English language: Page 740 James Knowles — 1835.”
And case you’re curious here’s how to pronounce zythepsary. - Zythum
- The same 1835 dictionary defines zythum as “n. A beverage ; a liquor composed of malt and corn. A pronouncing and explanatory dictionary of the English language: Page 740 James Knowles — 1835.”
Those are some pretty cool words. Come on people, let’s starting using those again. Who doesn’t want to go for a Zythum, made by a Zumologist at your local Zythepsary?
Here’s a passage by Charles Dickens in the weekly Journal “All the Year Round” using the word zythepsary. It’s from 1861, when the word was already uncommon, apparently.
“But the oddest things of all are to be found in the dictionaries. Why they are all kept there no one knows; but what man in his senses would use such words as zythepsary for a brewhouse, and zumologist for a brewer; would talk of a stormy day as procellous and himself as madefied; of his long-legged son as increasing in procerity but sadly inarcid, of having met wilh much procacity from such a one; of a bore as a macrologist; of an aged horse as macrobiolic; of important business as moliminous,and his daughter’s necklace as moniliform; of some one’s talk as meracious, and lament, his last night’s nimiety of wine at that dapatical feast, whence he was taken by ereption?”
And this Pabst ad from 1897 refers to the Pabst Zythepsary.
And here’s science fiction writer Isaac Asimov using zymologist in 1962’s “The Caves of Steel.”
“‘I’m a zymologist, if you don’t mind.’
‘What’s the difference?’
Clousarr looked lofty. ‘A chemist is a soup-pusher, a stink-operator. A zymologist is a man who helps keep a few billion people alive. I’m a yeast-culture specialist.'”
I’ve heard Yeast-wrangler before, but not that one. That’s also pretty awesome. I’d love to start seeing that on brewers’ business cards: “Yeast-Culture Specialist.”
“Craft Beer” Added To Webster’s Dictionary
The interwebs are all abuzz with the news this morning that the term “craft beer” has been added to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary. I know very few people who are happy with the term already, so this is probably not going to help. The definition they chose doesn’t seem to quite work. I know they were trying to generalize a term that itself has struggled to be defined, and there are already many differences of opinion about what the term means, so it was no easy task. Even so, it seems like a fail. It will apparently be in the next print edition of the dictionary, but has already been added online. Here’s the entry:
craft beer noun
Definition of CRAFT BEER
: a specialty beer produced in limited quantities : MICROBREW
First Known Use of CRAFT BEER
1986
That definition suffers from the vagueness of what it means to be “a specialty beer” — which itself needs to be defined — and that it includes only beers that are brewed “in limited quantities.” As opposed to those beers in unlimited quantities? Does that mean year-round beers cannot be considered “craft beer?” Probably not, but my point is this is a pretty inelegant attempt at defining craft beer. It’s simple, at least, but hanging what it means to be a craft beer on it being “special” and “in limited quantities” is not exactly doing anybody any favors.
But other dictionaries have also tackled “craft beer” with mostly the same uninspired results. Here’s a few others.
American Heritage Dictionary: A distinctively flavored beer that is brewed and distributed regionally. Also called craft brew, microbrew.
Dictionary.com: an all-malt or nearly all-malt specialty beer usually brewed in a small, regional brewery.
Oxford English Dictionary: a beer with a distinctive flavour, produced and distributed in a particular region.
Stan had a post a couple of years ago about Craft beer: The 1986 definition that explores its origins. A lot of terms have come and gone, picked up and fallen out of favor, and there’s a twitter discussion swirling about what the next term will be, with Ray Daniels suggesting “Artisan Brewer” as the “next big thing.” Here are a few that have been, and continue to be, used to describe beer that’s not “good old macrobrew made in vats the size of Rhode Island” (however we define that, too), and at least one suggested this morning just in jest:
- Artisan Beer
- Authentic Beer
- Boutique Brewer
- Cool Brewer
- Cottage Brewery
- Craft Beer
- Craft Brew
- Flavor Beer
- Hand-Crafted Beer
- Handmade Beer
- Microbrewery
- Nanobrewery
- Picobrewery
- Real Beer
- Regional Brewery
- Small Batch Beer
- Small Brewer
- Specialty Beer
- True Beer
Did I miss any? Are there any you think should be added for consideration? What do you think we should call this stuff we all love? Maybe just call it “beer” and be done with it?
Alcoholidays
I’ve never been sure if I love words because I’m a writer, or if I became a writer because of my love for words. Either way, as long as I can remember I’ve been fascinated by words, their origins, their shades of meaning, the way they roll off the tongue, their rhythm … well, you get the idea. I’m a word freak. So I’m always thrilled when I discover a new one, or at least one new to me.
This one’s a portmanteau, which is essentially a word that “is a combination of two (or more) words or morphemes into one new word.” “Blog” is one you probably use every day. Other examples include “breathalyzer,” “brunch,” “camcorder,” “ginormous,” “motel,” “smog” and “spork.” Some catch on, while others don’t quite make it into everyday usage. There are a lot of portmanteaus in computing and the internet, and Wikipedia has a long list of them.
One of my favorite magazines is Mental Floss, which is a great one for feeding your inner trivia geek. They recently had a blog post entitled 12 Really Forced Portmanteaux That Didn’t Catch On that included some that you can easily see why they didn’t become popular. Words like “locorestive” (Inclined to remain in one place) or “saccharhinoceros” (A lumbering person with an excessively effusive or affectedly sentimental manner) don’t exactly roll off the tongue. Some of the portmanteaus on the list are downright funny.
But here’s the one that caught my eye: alcoholiday, combining alcohol and holiday. It was defined as “leisure time spent drinking” when it first “appeared in a 1913 New York Times story titled ‘New Arrivals in Portmanteau Land.'”
It may not be the most elegant word, but there are certainly holidays that fit that description to a tee. St. Patrick’s Day, Cinco de Mayo and New Years’ Eve seem obvious alcoholidays. And our Independence Day, Labor Day, Memorial Day and even Halloween could easily be included.
Maybe it’s time to bring back alcoholiday?