Cato's Grammar Grumble

[Florestan]

And not really one for the Grammar Grumble, since the grammar is OK, if somewhat abbreviated - perhaps we need a Geometry Grumble thread.  Anyway, I've heard a few athletes in the Olympics describing a complete change of direction as "doing a 360".  Maybe they were trying to do a 180 and got a bit over-enthusiastic?

Many political officers in the army of the Socialist Republic of Romania were half-illiterate or graduates of the Romanian Communist Party's Ideological Academy (yes, there was such a "university"). When they talked about WWII, they always stressed that, "under the order of the RCP, the Romanian Army acting as a single man turned the weapons 360 degree against Nazi Germany". Beside being geometrical nonsense, it was also historic nonsense: the order was given by King Michael as the constitutional commander-in-chief of the Royal Romanian Army; the RCP had nothing at all to do with the move.

[Cato]

Concerning collective singulars like "family" (thanks to @Florestan at The Unimportant News topic):

"Family" is a collective singular: One family wants this, but two families want that!

I find things like "The congregation are..." odd, because you can have congregations, flocks, groups, etc.

The congregation is in church, the flock is flying south, the group has decided, etc.

To be sure, the British are of a different opinion here at times!

Nevertheless, I find the above less complicated!  😇

[Karl Henning]

Concerning collective singulars like "family" (thanks to @Florestan at The Unimportant News topic):

To be sure, the British are of a different opinion here at times!

Nevertheless, I find the above less complicated!  😇

The crowd are going wild!

[DavidW]

The crowd are going wild!

Moosen.

[Karl Henning]

Concerning collective singulars like "family" (thanks to @Florestan at The Unimportant News topic):

To be sure, the British are of a different opinion here at times!

Nevertheless, I find the above less complicated!  😇

There was a time when I thought I had a bead on this, but that time has long since passed.

[Cato]

There was a time when I thought I had a bead on this, but that time has long since passed.

Well, in languages things are usually inconsistent!

We do have exceptions: Most Americans would say e.g. "The police are arresting the driver," even if only one policeman could be seen.

However, if one says e.g. "police force," then we are - oddly! - back to a singular: 

"The police force is completely corrupt in this town!"   

[Karl Henning]

Well, in languages things are usually inconsistent!

We do have exceptions: Most Americans would say e.g. "The police are arresting the driver," even if only one policeman could be seen.

However, if one says e.g. "police force," then we are - oddly! - back to a singular: 

"The police force is completely corrupt in this town!" 

I think my excellent 10th-grade English teacher touched on this topic, but gingerly.

[Cato]

No grumble, but an observation about a curiosity of vocabulary!

First, some background, lengthy, so stay with me! 

When I first visited Germany (West Germany, not the Communist East) c. 50 years ago, I was offered Johannisbeersaft, i.e. Currant Juice!

The first drop must have catalyzed an ancient Germanic gene given by an ancestor, who loved currants, because I was instantly hooked, addicted, obsessed!

Between 1985 and 2006, when I was traveling almost yearly to Germany, I bought Johannisbeersaft whenever possible.

One year, a colleague, who was an Irishman from Belfast but taught in Germany, and who was quite the mixologist  , offered me currant schnapps, a.k.a. Crème de Cassis, which was delightful and only increased my addiction! 
The drink was called a "Kir," white wine mixed with the Crème de Cassis;

Alcohol is not my thing: the taste of almost any kind is awful, so my Germanic gene for beer or wine must have died away somewhere!  (My father never touched the stuff, as far as I know.)

Anyway, in America, currant juice is practically unknown.  So I have not had any of it for 18 years.  We bought some currant bushes, which have not done very well: this year was our best harvest, about three handfuls!

Some specialty stores do carry currant preserves and jam, imported from Germany or Poland, which are fine, but not the same as the juice!

Now I almost invariably handle the grocery shopping early in the morning, while Mrs. Cato dreams blissful images of me going grocery shopping!

Some days ago, she wanted to stop at a large grocery store for something, and then decided it was time to walk up and down every aisle "to see if we need anything."

Of course, I did not protest! 

We entered the "International Foods" aisle, which I have never visited, since nothing we eat would ever be found there.

We are almost at the end, when my eyes wander toward something, as if my unconscious had detected a target before I consciously knew what the target was.  I close in upon a large bottle with a round, blackish-purplish fruit on it.  It is in the section marked "ENGLAND."

In a split second I am holding a bottle of RIBENA BLACK CURRANT JUICE !!!    😇

Finally!  The Holy Grail of Fruit Juice had been found!

I see on the label that RIBENA thanks me for "supporting Great Britain's Currant Farmers," that the bottle is a "concentrate," which is fine, since I intended to use it mainly to flavor my tea, with occasionally straight sips, and that the price is not cheap!

But given America's "special relationship" with Great Britain, I thought it would be fine to support those farmers in England! 

And Mrs. Cato gave me her Imprinatur and her Nihil Obstat to purchase it.

So, at home I look at the back of the bottle, and read the following:

"Dilute one part SQUASH with four parts water: one bottle will give you 17 servings."     

In a split second panic I wonder whether I had accidentally spent $8.00 on a bottle of Purple Squash Juice!    😇

No, the label says "Black Currant Juice" and I was reminded of all those hard-working English farmers growing much more than three handfuls of currants per year!

So I deduce that "Squash" in this context must be a "Britishism" for "juice," or perhaps "Concentrated Juice."

And yes, the 50-pound dictionary on our shelf verified my deduction!

Later, I found this on Wikipedia: apparently I am not the only one, who is obsessed by or addicted to currant juice!

"...The gorillas at London Zoo are given both squash and cold fruit tea to drink. When a silverback called Kumbuka escaped from his enclosure in 2016, he drank five litres (8.8 imperial pints) of undiluted blackcurrant squash that was in the keepers' area...

Kumbuka is in the club! 


Squash as Concentrated Juice

[Cato]

No grumble, but an observation about a curiosity of vocabulary!

First, some background, lengthy, so stay with me! 

When I first visited Germany (West Germany, not the Communist East) c. 50 years ago, I was offered Johannisbeersaft, i.e. Currant Juice!

The first drop must have catalyzed an ancient Germanic gene given by an ancestor, who loved currants, because I was instantly hooked, addicted, obsessed!

Between 1985 and 2006, when I was traveling almost yearly to Germany, I bought Johannisbeersaft whenever possible.

One year, a colleague, who was an Irishman from Belfast but taught in Germany, and who was quite the mixologist  , offered me currant schnapps, a.k.a. Crème de Cassis, which was delightful and only increased my addiction! 
The drink was called a "Kir," white wine mixed with the Crème de Cassis;

Alcohol is not my thing: the taste of almost any kind is awful, so my Germanic gene for beer or wine must have died away somewhere!  (My father never touched the stuff, as far as I know.)

Anyway, in America, currant juice is practically unknown.  So I have not had any of it for 18 years.  We bought some currant bushes, which have not done very well: this year was our best harvest, about three handfuls!

Some specialty stores do carry currant preserves and jam, imported from Germany or Poland, which are fine, but not the same as the juice!

Now I almost invariably handle the grocery shopping early in the morning, while Mrs. Cato dreams blissful images of me going grocery shopping!

Some days ago, she wanted to stop at a large grocery store for something, and then decided it was time to walk up and down every aisle "to see if we need anything."

Of course, I did not protest! 

We entered the "International Foods" aisle, which I have never visited, since nothing we eat would ever be found there.

We are almost at the end, when my eyes wander toward something, as if my unconscious had detected a target before I consciously knew what the target was.  I close in upon a large bottle with a round, blackish-purplish fruit on it.  It is in the section marked "ENGLAND."

In a split second I am holding a bottle of RIBENA BLACK CURRANT JUICE !!!    😇

Finally!  The Holy Grail of Fruit Juice had been found!

I see on the label that RIBENA thanks me for "supporting Great Britain's Currant Farmers," that the bottle is a "concentrate," which is fine, since I intended to use it mainly to flavor my tea, with occasionally straight sips, and that the price is not cheap!

But given America's "special relationship" with Great Britain, I thought it would be fine to support those farmers in England! 

And Mrs. Cato gave me her Imprinatur and her Nihil Obstat to purchase it.

So, at home I look at the back of the bottle, and read the following:

"Dilute one part SQUASH with four parts water: one bottle will give you 17 servings."     

In a split second panic I wonder whether I had accidentally spent $8.00 on a bottle of Purple Squash Juice!    😇

No, the label says "Black Currant Juice" and I was reminded of all those hard-working English farmers growing much more than three handfuls of currants per year!

So I deduce that "Squash" in this context must be a "Britishism" for "juice," or perhaps "Concentrated Juice."

And yes, the 50-pound dictionary on our shelf verified my deduction!

Later, I found this on Wikipedia: apparently I am not the only one, who is obsessed by or addicted to currant juice!

Kumbuka is in the club! 


Squash as Concentrated Juice

I should mention: RIBENA Black Currant Juice has an excellent taste!  I thank England's Black Currant Farmers! 😇


Another not-quite-grumble: you may have seen in churches the letters IHS on or above an altar.  At a Baroque concert last night in a local Catholic basilica, my wife was whispering a question about the symbol, and a man in front of us overheard her and claimed it "was Latin for Jesus."

I demurred quietly, but he insisted that he knew it was "Latin for Jesus" because he "had a doctorate" so we should trust him.   

Well, not quite: IHS is a Greek abbreviation for "Jesus," which, to be sure, persisted through the Latin Western Roman Empire into the Middle Ages and obviously into our day.  In Latin, "Iesus" is how the name is written, without an "H."  The H in Greek is a capital long A sound, and is the second letter in Ἰησοῦς.

IHS has also been interpreted as a phrase: Iesus Hominum Salvator (Jesus, Savior of Mankind), or In Hoc Signo (In this sign...vinces you will conquer, supposedly what Constantine saw in his vision of a cross in the sky).

Certainly in the basilica a cross was carved in front of the IHS, making it seem as if this latter interpretation was intended, as the symbol was very high up on the baldachinum (i.e. canopy) above the altar. 

In one sense, all interpretations are fine! 

   

[Florestan]

Mrs. Cato gave me her Imprinatur

You mean Emetur, right? 

[Cato]

You mean Emetur, right? 

That too!   


("It will be bought") 

[Karl Henning]

In Latin, "Iesus" is how the name is written, without an "H."  The H in Greek is a capital long A sound

I can half-hear an Irishman saying "Jaysus."

[Mandryka]

I should mention: RIBENA Black Currant Juice has an excellent taste!  I thank England's Black Currant Farmers! 😇


Another not-quite-grumble: you may have seen in churches the letters IHS on or above an altar.  At a Baroque concert last night in a local Catholic basilica, my wife was whispering a question about the symbol, and a man in front of us overheard her and claimed it "was Latin for Jesus."

I demurred quietly, but he insisted that he knew it was "Latin for Jesus" because he "had a doctorate" so we should trust him.   

Well, not quite: IHS is a Greek abbreviation for "Jesus," which, to be sure, persisted through the Latin Western Roman Empire into the Middle Ages and obviously into our day.  In Latin, "Iesus" is how the name is written, without an "H."  The H in Greek is a capital long A sound, and is the second letter in .

IHS has also been interpreted as a phrase: Iesus Hominum Salvator (Jesus, Savior of Mankind), or In Hoc Signo (In this sign...vinces you will conquer, supposedly what Constantine saw in his vision of a cross in the sky).

Certainly in the basilica a cross was carved in front of the IHS, making it seem as if this latter interpretation was intended, as the symbol was very high up on the baldachinum (i.e. canopy) above the altar. 

In one sense, all interpretations are fine! 

   

The idea IHS is the first three letters of Jesus in Greek won't work easily because  of the S - in Greek it would have to be Σ. H is a long E not a long A I think.

[Cato]

The idea IHS is the first three letters of Jesus in Greek won't work easily because  of the S - in Greek it would have to be Σ. H is a long E not a long A I think.

Well, I was taught that it was like the "a" in "hay."


e.g. ἡ ἀγάπη was (according to my professors) "hay agapay."

But I know that other schools of thought claim otherwise: some say that it is all guesswork.

I do recall that the Romans considered Greek to be a language resembling "chirping birds."  My professor of Ancient Greek said the spoken language would have resembled Oriental languages, and that ancient Greek singers, if they went "off-key," usually went sharp, rather than flat.

[Wanderer]

I should mention: RIBENA Black Currant Juice has an excellent taste!  I thank England's Black Currant Farmers! 😇


Another not-quite-grumble: you may have seen in churches the letters IHS on or above an altar.  At a Baroque concert last night in a local Catholic basilica, my wife was whispering a question about the symbol, and a man in front of us overheard her and claimed it "was Latin for Jesus."

I demurred quietly, but he insisted that he knew it was "Latin for Jesus" because he "had a doctorate" so we should trust him. 

Well, not quite: IHS is a Greek abbreviation for "Jesus," which, to be sure, persisted through the Latin Western Roman Empire into the Middle Ages and obviously into our day.  In Latin, "Iesus" is how the name is written, without an "H."  The H in Greek is a capital long A sound, and is the second letter in Ἰησοῦς.

IHS has also been interpreted as a phrase: Iesus Hominum Salvator (Jesus, Savior of Mankind), or In Hoc Signo (In this sign...vinces you will conquer, supposedly what Constantine saw in his vision of a cross in the sky).

Certainly in the basilica a cross was carved in front of the IHS, making it seem as if this latter interpretation was intended, as the symbol was very high up on the baldachinum (i.e. canopy) above the altar. 

In one sense, all interpretations are fine! 

 

The Greek abbreviation for the name of Jesus Christ (ΙΗΣΟΥΣ ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ) is traditionally composed of the first and last letters (ΙΣ ΧΣ or IC XC with lunated sigma). One can see it clearly in frescoes and mosaics all over the Greek world - also in some early mosaics in Rome. The equivalent abbreviation that accompanies the depiction of the Virgin Mary is ΜΡ ΘΥ (ΜΗΤΗΡ ΘΕΟΥ - mother of God). The abbreviation using the first and last letter rather than the first and second has, as everything in Byzantine iconography, theological connotations.

The IHS abbreviation first appeared in numismatics during Justinian's reign: IHS XPS REX REGNANTIUM = Jesus Christ King of Kings. The inscription was also used in solidi issued by subsequent Byzantine Emperors. What's interesting here is that while the inscription is in Latin, the abbreviation IHS XΡS is in Greek, comprised by the first, second and last letters of ΙΗΣΟΥΣ ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ, only substituting the Σ with an S. It's a sign of the rapid hellenization of the Roman State; Justinian was the first Emperor to also officially issue laws in Greek rather than Latin, the so-called Νεαραί διατάξεις (Novellae Constitutiones). The IHS abbreviation seems to have stuck in the Latin-speaking West (they really must have liked those coins!), but not in the Greek-speaking East (where the ΙΣ ΧΣ abbreviation was already established).

[Wanderer]

The H in Greek is a capital long A sound...

 

It is not. You're thinking of the diphthong epsilon-iota (EI).
The sound of the letter H (Ήτα, Eta) in classical times was like an epsilon (egg) (hence the classical Latin transliteration of Η with E), but already in hellenistic times it had become a long i (like in eat), the way it is pronounced today. This is the so-called "modern" pronunciation of Greek, that's been around since Alexander the Great.

[Cato]

It is not. You're thinking of the diphthong epsilon-iota (EI).


The sound of the letter H (Ήτα, Eta) in classical times was like an epsilon (egg) (hence the classical Latin transliteration of Η with E), but already in hellenistic times it had become a long i (like in eat), the way it is pronounced today. This is the so-called "modern" pronunciation of Greek, that's been around since Alexander the Great.

No, I meant the " ἡ " and not the diphthong found in e.g. εἶναι.

See An Introduction to Greek by Henry Crosby and John Schaeffer, p. xxiii

In their example, ἡ = the "-ey" in they.

[Wanderer]

No, I meant the " ἡ " and not the diphthong found in e.g. εἶναι.

See An Introduction to Greek by Henry Crosby and John Schaeffer, p. xxiii

In their example, ἡ = the "-ey" in they.

Then what your source indicates is incorrect.

[Cato]

Then what your source indicates is incorrect.

Fascinating, given the background of the authors!

Henry Crosby, Professor of Ancient Greek

John Schaeffer, Professor of Ancient Greek

I do know that various countries - and their professors - have debated the pronunciation for centuries.  As a result, unless a Time Machine allows one to go back and record e.g. 6th-century Athenians, things are up in the air.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pronunciation_of_Ancient_Greek_in_teaching

Apparently the language of the country, in which Ancient Greek, is taught, and even the time when it is taught, have influenced the interpretation of the pronunciation.

It is fascinating!

[Mandryka]

At school I was taught to pronounce the vowel in  ἡ like the vowel in area or air (without the r obviously.) I wonder if the "ay" thing is just American. I've noticed that Americans can pronounce the French très as "tray"!  Tray bee-ann.