Northwest Arkansas Democrat-Gazette

Sometimes word origins give insight into meaning

- BERNADETTE KINLAW

Long ago, I had a fantastic summer newspaper internship in Buffalo, N.Y.

Not once while I was there did I hear someone use the verb

to buffalo.

Of course the word buffalo is a noun for a big, cowlike animal with a bit of a hunchback. They do not have wings that you can marinate in spicy sauce. But the verb

to buffalo, The American Heritage Dictionary says, is to intimidate or frighten, as by a display of authority.

Merriam-Webster uses a definition with heavy assonance: bewilder, baffle or bamboozle.

Finding an article that used it was a little difficult, but I found one:

[The Department of Children and Families] chieftains, lawyers and public relations people are well-acquainted with the expertise and persistenc­e of the Miami Herald’s Carol Marbin Miller, a veteran investigat­ive reporter who knows the difference between transparen­cy and transparen­t nonsense.

But they keep trying to buffalo her anyway.

Still, I didn’t understand how the verb came to be associated with the animal. One theory is that the animals are known for mass panic, as one source says. But another source says, “When hunted by humans, buffalo have a reputation for circling back on their pursuers and counter attacking.”

Which source is trying to bamboozle me?

ON THE BRINK

I recently heard the word brinkmansh­ip, and I had to know where it was from. I had thought the word was brinksmans­hip, and that is, indeed, an alternativ­e spelling.

Merriam-Webster’s definition is: “the art or practice of pushing a dangerous situation or confrontat­ion to the limit of safety, especially to force a desired outcome.”

I had trouble thinking of an example of my using brinkmansh­ip. Maybe balancing precarious­ly on the top step of a ladder to paint an annoyingly high ceiling?

Once, my brother and his

friend were popping soap bubbles that I was sending their way. My brother used his toe as his bursting instrument. His friend used a long kitchen knife. (Reader, the toe and the knife collided. Blood was shed. The brinkmansh­ip ceased.)

Brink is the key word in the meaning. A brink is the very edge of a precipice. Step one inch more, and you fall and fall.

The American Heritage Dictionary says brinkmansh­ip is similar in form to the words salesmansh­ip and

sportsmans­hip.

The word was the result of 1956 Life magazine article about U.S. Secretary of State John Foster Dulles ( a D.C. airport is named for him). He believed in diplomacy mixed with a tinge of danger.

“The ability to get to the verge without getting into the war is the necessary art. … If you are scared to go to the brink, you are lost,”

he said.

Adlai Stevenson, a diplomat who helped form the United Nations and who ran twice, unsuccessf­ully, for president, wasn’t pleased. He said Dulles was wrong because he boasted “of his brinkmansh­ip — the art of bringing us to the edge of the nuclear abyss.”

( I also looked up brinkman, which is not a word or a thing. The dictionary asked me whether I meant to find brineman, which I did know was something. That’s a man who makes the brine to preserve foods such as vegetables and meat. I suppose brinewomen exist, too. Some people brine their turkey, so the brinemen of the world are probably just coming off the busy season. Now back to the column …)

PLED OR PLEADED?

I saw a funny tweet about the ongoing battle between pleaded and pled as the past tense of plead. I’ve written about it because the Associated Press Stylebook recently

changed its rule on this. Newspapers for years had used pleaded. I often heard from lawyers who thought newspapers should use pled instead. Recently The AP decided it wouldn’t fume over the use of pled.

It wasn’t a stirring endorsemen­t, though: “We no longer have strong feelings about it. Our preference is pleaded.

Webster’s New World College Dictionary recognizes both pleaded and pled.”

So, on Twitter, Preet Bharara, the former U.S. attorney for the Southern District of New York, mentioned that a T-shirt company was selling dueling shirts. One said, “It’s Pleaded ( not pled),” and one said “It’s Pled (not pleaded).” At the time of the tweet, “It’s Pled” was in the lead by 8-to-1.

MACHINATIO­N

And I’ll end with some contemplat­ion about machinatio­n.

I always think it’s pronounced mash-i-NAY-shun, because I can clearly see most of the word machine

in there. But it’s mack- iNAY- shun. I know that at this very second because I just listened to the person on the dictionary site say it. But I will have forgotten within the hour. I am constantly looking it up after I hear someone on TV say it.

While machines are often good for us, machinatio­ns usually are not. A machinatio­n is a scheme that usually has evil purposes. Its synonyms tell it all: plot, intrigue, conspiracy, cabal.

From The Washington Post:

Another strange Pentagon machinatio­n was the proposal … floated in mid-December to separate the code-breaking National Security Agency from U.S. Cyber Command.

Beware the machinatio­n.

 ??  ??
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United States