Last month we covered some pretty heavy topics so this month we’re talking about some of the more lighthearted concepts that have lexicalised over the last few years. Lexicalisation is the process by which new words enter the language, and one of the most common ways for this to happen in English is through compounding. That is, two existing words get stuck together and form a unit whose meaning cannot be described as a simple sum of its parts. The words in this list should serve as good examples, some of which may be considered for word of the year!
bird-dogging
This term has several meanings, including one referring to a tactic used by reporters and grassroots organisations to elicit on-record responses about specific issues from politicians who are often less than willing to provide them. There is an interesting linguistic story here. First we begin with two normal words, bird and dog, which (mainly in the US) were combined to refer to dogs used in hunting birds. This compound noun then becomes a verb, meaning to display the cunning and tenacity of such dogs. Some time later, the narrower political meaning emerges, in which the metaphorical dog’s prey becomes the often elusive clear public statement. I’ve left out a few of the side quests that happened along the way (e.g. stealing someone’s girlfriend), but this just goes to show what a multipurpose tool the term has proved to be.
bathroom camping
Let’s not shriek about Gen-Z destroying the world through laziness and apathy, but instead recognise that this was a concept that needed a name. We’ve all stayed in the bathroom for longer than strictly necessary at least once. Now we have a name for when it’s done deliberately as a way of managing stress, avoiding social interaction, or procrastinating. The new word fits a common category of compounds like house hunting, babysitting, or mind-reading, and its meaning is characteristically altered from that of its parts – bathroom camping is not the same as camping in the bathroom. My unproven theory is that it comes from video games, where to camp is to remain hidden in one place in order to gain some advantage against your opponents. In this case, the advantage is in outwitting those who demand your attention and time, and it is gained by hiding from them in the one place where it would be impolite for them to look.
koala diplomacy
This term is actually more than 30 years old, but comes back into focus occasionally when a koala-swaddled man in a suit makes headlines. It refers to the use of koalas in international relations to portray Australia as a soft power, and sits in a category of similar terms like panda diplomacy. The history of using animals in diplomacy goes back to ancient times, but thankfully our koalas are not being given to Roman emperors as personal pets or for use in gladiatorial games, but rather as additions to modern zoos where they will be kept in reasonable conditions (which really is for the best, given the habits of the fearsome drop bear).
platypup
At risk of stirring muddied waters, we thought we’d have another squizz at the blend suggested as the name for platypus young. Platypup was first used by the media in the 1940s to report on the first young platypus born in captivity. A rather logical blend of platypus and pup, which is a very common term for animals’ young. From canines to marine creatures, the term ‘pup’ has broad application. It can even refer to the young of creatures like anteaters, moles and porcupines. Alas, the employment of the term platypup has commentators and scientists alike shaking fists in resistance. Some say nay, because scientifically, nestling does just fine to describe the developmental stage of the young platypus. Others say nay, because puggle is the cuter alternative (besides, it would align the platypus with its fellow egg-laying mammal, the echidna).
linner
Now, I’ve got to admit that this blend has totally passed me by. Here I was thinking that attempts to playfully extend the idea of mixed meals encapsulated by brunch were simply that – playful (think dunch or lunner or dreakfast). Meanwhile, linner has crept into traveller’s lingo to describe a ‘lingered-over lunch’, professional athletes’ descriptions of their late lunch-come-dinner routines and fancy restaurants’ offerings for sittings covering lunch, linner and dinner. Interestingly, linner is not as simple as the neat blend of lunch and dinner that I might have first assumed. For some, linner is the increasingly trendy ‘fourth meal’ of the day, consumed between lunch and dinner. For others, linner is actually a blend of late and dinner, to describe dinner eaten later than usual in the day.
