If you’ve followed “Weird Words” over these past months, you might recall such oddball vocab as diapir and poddy-dodger. Despite appearances, neither has anything to do with bodily functions; the first is a geographical rock formation, the latter an Australian cattle-thief.
Both defined in older columns, they are instances of what we’re calling “words in disguise” — that is, terms that don’t mean what you think. Today, we offer our fifth and final article on these — before moving on to more seasonal linguistic fare.
Here’s a baker’s dozen (with pronunciation where necessary):
Bairn (BAYRN) – With its apparent similarity to both barn and cairn, one can be forgiven for assuming this to be a structure of some kind. But no: It’s just a Scottish term for child (“a wee bairn”).
Blunderbuss – While it can be a foolish or stupid person (which it kinda sounds like), this more commonly refers to a wide-muzzled musket that scatters shot at close range. It is not related to blunder, but comes instead from a Dutch word for “thunder” (as when you fire one).
Corvid – I tend to misread this as COVID, mostly because I’ve seen the latter so often. By contrast, corvid is short for Corvidae, a huge family of bird species including crows, jays, magpies and nutcrackers. Fittingly, if you look this up on Wikipedia, the first thing you’ll see is “Not to be confused with COVID-19.”
Farctate – Sounding like a verb for some gross bodily mishap, farctate is actually an adjective: “having the center solid but softer in consistency than the peripheral layers” (Merriam-Webster). That definition frankly makes no sense; apparently it’s used to describe certain fungi. Meanwhile, other sources define this obscure word as “stuffed” (or: “the state of having overeaten”) — with Wiktionary adding, somewhat unhelpfully, that it’s an anagram for artefact.
So yeah — maybe we better just avoid this one altogether.
Lickerish – Pronounced just like the candy, this is also an adjective; it means lustful, lascivious — or, relatedly, greedy about food. It is likely related to lecherous, though that latter word is pronounced with the ch of chase rather than the k in lickerish — or licorice … which doesn’t even have a k!
Sheesh, our language sure is confusing.
Lousewort – Most English words with a -wort suffix are plants — several of which we mentioned here two weeks ago (figwort, pennywort, navelwort). This is another — a flowering plant so named because it was once believed that sheep got lice after eating it.
(Louse is the singular of lice — that former being a word we don’t use much because, sadly, they are rarely found alone. But that is where we get our word lousy!)
Niblick – Sounds like something you do with your mouth, right? But most golfers will recognize this as a club with a sharply angled face, used when a short, lofty shot is needed (like out of sand or long grass); also called a nine iron. “Origin unknown.”
Peekapoo – Like many words here, this is easily misread — or maybe you just assume it has a typo in the third-to-last spot. But actually, peekapoo is a something called a blend. Covered earlier in “Weird Words” (just google rubbage webb weekly), these combine elements from two existing words — like brunch, smog and, yes, rubbage.
A peekapoo is a type of dog — resulting from the friendly interactions of a Pekingese and a poodle.
Pissasphalt – With stress on the first syllable, this is related to asphalt; it means “a sticky semi-liquid form of bitumen that is similar to tar” (Collins). The first syllable is a form of the tar-word pitch (as in pitch-black).
Psychopomp – I can’t pin down exactly what ideas this term conjures up — but I’m sure it has nothing to do with the actual meaning: “leader, conductor; a guide or conductor of departed souls; a name given to Hermes” (from the massive Webster’s Deluxe Unabridged).
Whangee (wang-GEE) – Type of Asian bamboo; or, a walking stick made from this.
Willywacks – Uninhabited woodland; more commonly, willowwacks (from Collins online).
Withywind – This is not related to our noun wind, but rather to the verb for twisting (as in “winding around”). Withywind is an alternate name for bindweed, which Merriam-Webster has thus: “any of various twining plants (especially genus Convolvulus of the morning-glory family) that mat or interlace with plants among which they grow.”
Several of the definitions above are from my newest favorite possession — a glorious fourth edition of The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language. Picked up for a song at the most recent James V. Brown used-book sale, this eight-pound beauty will be the subject of our next Weird Words.
See you then — unless one of us meets a psychopomp first….
