Can you guess what a smiley is? Or how about tarantula juice? You could, of course, happen upon someone with a muffin top drinking inferior whisky, or you could look these terms up in Jonathon Green's new Historical Dictionary of Slang. Green spent decades assembling this three-volume collection of slang from the United States, Great Britain, and every other nook and cranny of the English-speaking world. Grant explains what has linguists so excited about its publication.

http://bit.ly/ienVE3

If you preface a statement with "I'm not trying to be racist, but," does that then make it okay? And is there a term for such disclaimer?

It's always fun to catch moviemakers' blunders. Say you're watching an epic about ancient Rome and spot a toga-clad extra who forgot to remove his wristwatch. That's an anachronism. But what do you call something that's geographically incorrect. Take, for example, an exterior shot of what's supposed to be Dunder Mifflin's Scranton office, but includes a fleeting glimpse of a palm tree? That's called an anatopism (accent on the second syllable), from the Greek topos, meaning "place."

For an excellent timewaster along these lines, Grant recommends moviemistakes.com. (Yo, "The Nativity Story"! Everyone knows maize wasn't grown in Nazareth during the time of Christ. Anatopic FAIL!)

http://bit.ly/39Ji

Understandings aren't just for epistemologists and marriage counselors. In the 18th Century, the slang term understandings was a jocular name for "boots" or "shoes." Later, the word also came to be a joking term for "legs."

Quiz Guy Greg Pliska has a set of Topical Limericks from the world of media and entertainment.

A listener from Dallas wonders about the origin of I'm not cotton to, meaning "I'm not in favor of" or "I don't get along with." Though it sounds like a classic Southern phrase, Martha traces it all the way back to England, where the verb to cotton had to do with textile work. Saying I'm not cotton with or I don't cotton to means that you don't get along with something.

What do you call those convenient props in illustrations and movies that cover up the proverbial naughty bits? A listener remembers an old illustrated copy of The Emperor's New Clothes that made clever use of twigs and berries for covering, well, the twigs and berries. Martha opens the kimono on the rare term antipudic, from the Latin pudor meaning "shame." It's the source also of the English words impudent and pudenda.

Alfred Hitchcock specifically referred to his own use of antipudic devices regarding the shower scene in Psycho. And of course, nobody makes better use of antipudic devices than Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery.

http://bit.ly/Zikak

Listeners emailed us in response to a call on the sonorous bow-chicka-wow-wow cliche, and we're glad they did. We learned that country star Trace Adkins has a song called "brown chicken, brown cow" that uses puppets to demonstrate just what it means to take a roll in the hay. We're sure it'd have Statler and Waldorf whipping out their opera binoculars.

http://waywordradio.org/a-murphy-a-melvin-and-a-wedgie/

http://bit.ly/fNoots

Who is Boo-Boo the Fool? A listener wonders if this African-American character has any relation the Puerto Rican fool, Juan Bobo. Martha draws a connection to the Spanish term bobo, meaning "fool," and its Latin root balbus, meaning "stammerer". Grant notes that the name Bobo has been extremely common for clowns since at least the 1940s, and the bobo/clown/jester character is prevalent in most all cultural folklores, be they African, South American, or Anglo-European.

When it comes to language, a listener from Dallas wants to know, as a fellow Texan might put it, "Who's the decider"? Grant explains that nobody makes the rules about language--and everybody does. For those seeking professional guidance, a whole community of lexicographers, dictionaries, and style guides offers rules and provenance on vocabulary, grammar, and pronunciation. However, on a daily basis all the users of a language implicitly write the rules by choosing words and syntax that have semantic clarity for the people they're trying to communicate with. You could go to a reference book, or you could say something to your neighbor, then judge by their reaction whether or not you made sense.

Your mother gave you life, and you gave her . . . a boondoggle? Or is it a lanyard? Or maybe a gimp? Grant assures a listener there are several terms for that long key fob you made at summer camp out of plastic yarn. Boondoggle seems to have originated among Boy Scouts in the Rochester, N.Y., area in the 1930s, and was later picked up by those in politics to mean "a wasteful debacle." Grant also shares a French term for these summer-camp crafts, scoubidou, pronounced just like the cartoon dog, but apparently no relation.

Nobody writes more movingly about lanyards than poet Billy Collins.

http://bit.ly/YqF7g

If you get an email called Life in the 1500s, hit "delete"! Grant explains that the etymology provided is not entirely accurate. That's what this show is for. Also, if you're getting an email that says Free Money, Click Here, you shouldn't trust that either. That's what jobs are for.

Snopes.com has a good debunking of these linguistic urban legends.

http://bit.ly/fJQD

A college senior has invented a word to describe that anxiety we feel when there's unfinished work looming over us. He calls it desgundes. As in, that twenty-year-old in the library making a three-foot boondoggle must likely be dealing with some inner desgundes.

An Indianapolis listener says his father used to often speak of "leaving this veil of tears." His son wonders about the origin of that phrase. Grant and Martha explain the term is actually vale, a synonym for valley. In some translations, Psalm 84 refers to traveling through a vale of tears.

Can you guess what a smiley is? Or how about tarantula juice? You could, of course, happen upon someone with a muffin top drinking inferior whisky, or you could look these terms up in Jonathon Green's new Historical Dictionary of Slang. Green spent decades assembling this three-volume collection of slang from the United States, Great Britain, and every other nook and cranny of the English-speaking world. Grant explains what has linguists so excited about its publication.

http://bit.ly/ienVE3

If you preface a statement with "I'm not trying to be racist, but," does that then make it okay? And is there a term for such disclaimer?

It's always fun to catch moviemakers' blunders. Say you're watching an epic about ancient Rome and spot a toga-clad extra who forgot to remove his wristwatch. That's an anachronism. But what do you call something that's geographically incorrect. Take, for example, an exterior shot of what's supposed to be Dunder Mifflin's Scranton office, but includes a fleeting glimpse of a palm tree? That's called an anatopism (accent on the second syllable), from the Greek topos, meaning "place."

For an excellent timewaster along these lines, Grant recommends moviemistakes.com. (Yo, "The Nativity Story"! Everyone knows maize wasn't grown in Nazareth during the time of Christ. Anatopic FAIL!)

http://bit.ly/39Ji

Understandings aren't just for epistemologists and marriage counselors. In the 18th Century, the slang term understandings was a jocular name for "boots" or "shoes." Later, the word also came to be a joking term for "legs."

Quiz Guy Greg Pliska has a set of Topical Limericks from the world of media and entertainment.

A listener from Dallas wonders about the origin of I'm not cotton to, meaning "I'm not in favor of" or "I don't get along with." Though it sounds like a classic Southern phrase, Martha traces it all the way back to England, where the verb to cotton had to do with textile work. Saying I'm not cotton with or I don't cotton to means that you don't get along with something.

What do you call those convenient props in illustrations and movies that cover up the proverbial naughty bits? A listener remembers an old illustrated copy of The Emperor's New Clothes that made clever use of twigs and berries for covering, well, the twigs and berries. Martha opens the kimono on the rare term antipudic, from the Latin pudor meaning "shame." It's the source also of the English words impudent and pudenda.

Alfred Hitchcock specifically referred to his own use of antipudic devices regarding the shower scene in Psycho. And of course, nobody makes better use of antipudic devices than Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery.

http://bit.ly/Zikak

Listeners emailed us in response to a call on the sonorous bow-chicka-wow-wow cliche, and we're glad they did. We learned that country star Trace Adkins has a song called "brown chicken, brown cow" that uses puppets to demonstrate just what it means to take a roll in the hay. We're sure it'd have Statler and Waldorf whipping out their opera binoculars.

http://waywordradio.org/a-murphy-a-melvin-and-a-wedgie/

http://bit.ly/fNoots

Who is Boo-Boo the Fool? A listener wonders if this African-American character has any relation the Puerto Rican fool, Juan Bobo. Martha draws a connection to the Spanish term bobo, meaning "fool," and its Latin root balbus, meaning "stammerer". Grant notes that the name Bobo has been extremely common for clowns since at least the 1940s, and the bobo/clown/jester character is prevalent in most all cultural folklores, be they African, South American, or Anglo-European.

When it comes to language, a listener from Dallas wants to know, as a fellow Texan might put it, "Who's the decider"? Grant explains that nobody makes the rules about language--and everybody does. For those seeking professional guidance, a whole community of lexicographers, dictionaries, and style guides offers rules and provenance on vocabulary, grammar, and pronunciation. However, on a daily basis all the users of a language implicitly write the rules by choosing words and syntax that have semantic clarity for the people they're trying to communicate with. You could go to a reference book, or you could say something to your neighbor, then judge by their reaction whether or not you made sense.

Your mother gave you life, and you gave her . . . a boondoggle? Or is it a lanyard? Or maybe a gimp? Grant assures a listener there are several terms for that long key fob you made at summer camp out of plastic yarn. Boondoggle seems to have originated among Boy Scouts in the Rochester, N.Y., area in the 1930s, and was later picked up by those in politics to mean "a wasteful debacle." Grant also shares a French term for these summer-camp crafts, scoubidou, pronounced just like the cartoon dog, but apparently no relation.

Nobody writes more movingly about lanyards than poet Billy Collins.

http://bit.ly/YqF7g

If you get an email called Life in the 1500s, hit "delete"! Grant explains that the etymology provided is not entirely accurate. That's what this show is for. Also, if you're getting an email that says Free Money, Click Here, you shouldn't trust that either. That's what jobs are for.

Snopes.com has a good debunking of these linguistic urban legends.

http://bit.ly/fJQD

A college senior has invented a word to describe that anxiety we feel when there's unfinished work looming over us. He calls it desgundes. As in, that twenty-year-old in the library making a three-foot boondoggle must likely be dealing with some inner desgundes.

An Indianapolis listener says his father used to often speak of "leaving this veil of tears." His son wonders about the origin of that phrase. Grant and Martha explain the term is actually vale, a synonym for valley. In some translations, Psalm 84 refers to traveling through a vale of tears.