Etymology Break: “Bunkum”

I did not know until today that “bunk,” “bunkum,” and “debunk” were among North Carolina's many contributions to Western Civilization. Imagine Brave New World without Ford's “History is bunk”—it wouldn't work. And where would anti-spiritualist literature be without “debunk”?

It turns out that “bunkum” actually comes from Buncombe County, location of Asheville and birthplace of Thomas Wolfe. You may have known this already. But I learned it today.

“[The Jeffersonian Republicans] were determined to get Missouri admitted without restrictions on slavery. After the Sixteenth Congress convened in December 1819, the debate over Missouri resumed. The speeches seemed interminable as well as intemperate. When Felix Walker of North Carolina was urged to sit down, he replied that he had to give his speech for the folks back home, ‘for Buncombe County.’ Ever since, Americans have called a certain kind of inflated political oratory ‘buncombe’ — or ‘bunk’ for short.”

-Daniel Walker Howe. What Hath God Wrought: The Transformation of America, 1815-1848. New York: Oxford UP, 2007. (151)

I've spent non-negligible amounts of time in Buncombe County on many occasions… but I never knew.

Etymology Break: “Pundit”

I used the word “pundit” a few minutes ago, and wondered where it came from. It always sounded like a neologism to me; I assumed it was short for something, although I never had any idea what it could be short for. (Punishing editor? But that makes no sense...) So, I looked it up. It comes almost directly from a Sanskrit word “pandita,” meaning learned man. The word “pandit” was known in English by the 1670s as a descriptive term for an Indian scholar, and it appeared in its modern sense and spelling, referring to a commentator or political thinker, by the 1860s. I still feel bad about using it, but now instead of suspecting that it's a clumsy invented word, I know it's a relic of colonialism. Sometimes you just can't win.

Fantastic new word: POGONOTROPHY

(via Ben Myers)

There's a short new essay by David Bentley Hart, in which he explains how Rowan Williams is a theologian of the highest order. As usual, it's a beautiful read. But perhaps most important to me is his latest demonstration of his master of obscure formal English, as evidenced in the first paragraph:

No one who had – whatever reservations he or she might harbour as to the Archbishop’s wisdom, prudence or pogonotrophy – could possibly dismiss the man as a featherweight or a fraud.

Pogonotrophy is defined as “the growing of a beard.” For reasons which will be obvious to those who know me “in real life,” I love this word.