Cassidese Glossary – Tiger

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

According to Wikipedia, in the US, the card game known as Faro was also called ‘bucking the tiger’ or ‘twisting the tiger’s tail’, a reference to a picture of a Bengal tiger which appeared on the backs of playing cards.

Cassidy rejected this (by not actually mentioning it) and claimed that the word tiger in this case derives from the Irish adjective diaga (pron. jee-agga or dee-agga), which means divine. According to Cassidy: ‘The Tiger (diaga, divine, holy, diagaireacht, a divinity) was the god of the odds.’

Dia is a divinity in Irish. The variant diagaireacht could just, at a pinch, be used for divinity, the subject of study (not A divinity), though the usual word for that is diagacht. None of these words has any close or meaningful relation to card-playing or Faro.

Cassidese Glossary – Stock

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

The late Daniel Cassidy, in his work of etymological fantasy, How The Irish Invented Slang, claimed that stock, as in the phrase ‘a stock of a man’, comes from the Irish staic.

Stock, of course, means a tree-trunk and makes perfect sense as a description of a well-built man. This is an ancient word of Germanic origin. It is found in Old English in the form stocc. Irish staic is a borrowing of the English word stack, which is of Old Norse origin.

Cassidese Glossary – Spunk

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

According to Daniel Cassidy’s etymological hoax, How The Irish Invented Slang, spunk comes from the Gaelic or Irish word sponnc. Cassidy is completely right about this. It does come from Gaelic or Irish. Sponnc (or sponc in modern spelling) does mean tinder or material to light a fire and the metaphorical use of this to mean fiery personality, courage or semen is quite clear. However, though Cassidy says that the OED claims that spunk is of uncertain origin and possibly related to punk and funk, what he doesn’t tell us is that the other English dictionaries already give the Gaelic or Irish derivation of spunk and they did so a long time before Cassidy started on his etymological project.

Cassidese Glossary – Slop

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

Daniel Cassidy, in his work of false etymologies, How The Irish Invented Slang, claimed that the English terms slop and sloppy are of Irish origin. He claims that they are linked either to slab, (the origin of slob in sloblands) or to words like slapach or slapaire, meaning slovenly or a slovenly person. McKinnon’s Gaelic etymological dictionary makes it quite clear that slab comes from the Norse word slab, while slapaire comes from the Norse word slapr, meaning a slovenly person. In other words, they are two separate words with separate origins, so Cassidy’s claim is illogical.

However, the claim is also nonsense for another reason. Cassidy says that:

Anglo-American dictionaries derive the words slop and sloppy from Old English cūsloppe for cow dung. The word sloppy does not appear in English vernacular until the 19^th century. (Barnhart, 1019.)

This is nonsense. No English or American English dictionary derives slop and sloppy from the word cūsloppe. The word slop is quite ancient in English and is found around the year 1400 with the meaning of mudhole. This in turn probably derives from an Old English word sloppe meaning dung but this element is not found on its own. It is only found in one compound word, the plant name cūsloppe which is the origin of modern English cowslip and is believed to mean cow dung, probably because the cowslip is found where cattle graze. (The Irish bainne bó bleachtáin means milk of a milking cow and also links the cowslip to cows.) Sloppy dates back to the 18^th century but slop goes back a long way in English and has no connection with Irish or Scottish Gaelic.

Cassidese Glossary – Scam

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

Daniel Cassidy, in his etymological hoax How The Irish Invented Slang, claimed that the word scam comes from a supposed Irish phrase ’s cam é, meaning ‘it’s crooked’. There is no evidence of anyone using such a phrase in Irish and there are much better expressions for a scam. Even if it did exist, phrases are rarely borrowed. The evidence of linguistics tells us that almost all borrowings between languages are single words, and most of them are nouns.

The word scam first occurs in America in the 1960s. There are many possible explanations for its origin. It could be from scamp, meaning a swindler. Or from scheme. Or from a group of related words in French, Spanish and Portuguese meaning to disappear or to swindle. The most likely of these is escamotear in Spanish. Me han escamoteado mil dolares means “they stole a thousand dollars from me.”

Cassidy’s claim is highly improbable.

Cassidese Glossary – Racket (Criminal)

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

The truth is probably quite simple. At some stage, racket as in to make a sound (especially used as a distraction for criminal activity) became linked to words like rack (to put someone on the rack) and rack-renting (to extort rent from someone) and thus a racket came to mean a criminal enterprise.

Cassidy claims that this is of Irish or Scottish Gaelic origin but gives a number of different terms in both languages with his chaotic and disorganised ‘system’ of referencing, where he gives all the references in a jumble at the end, so it is impossible to say with any certainty which of these terms Cassidy is claiming as the origin of racket or what evidence he has for this claim. For what it’s worth, here is Cassidy’s take on it:

Ragaireachd (pron. ragerǝċd), n., (Gaelic) violence; extortion, oppression, roguery Racaireacht (pron. rakerǝċt), n., dealing, selling. Ragair, n., an extortioner, a violent man, villain, rogue, deceiver; cf. reacaire, reacadóir, n., a seller, a dealer; an extortioner (Ó Dónaill, 988; Dineen [sic], 872 882; Dwelly 744.)

Of course, ragaireachd is Scottish Gaelic, not Irish, and it would be pronounced ragurrakhk, with a k sound at the end, not a d. There was very little if any Scottish Gaelic spoken in urban areas of the USA in the 19^th century, so it and Ragair are probably not relevant, even if they do mean what Cassidy said. (Extortioner does seem to be one of the meanings of ragaire in Gaelic.) Even if these were relevant, they don’t sound much like racket or racketeer.

Racaireacht doesn’t exist. Reacaireacht means selling, reciting or gossiping, none of which are appropriate, and reacaire means seller, reciter or gossip. Ragaire is given in Dinneen as meaning an extortioner but the reference is to the 17^th/18^th century Kirk/Ó Broin Glossary (Egerton 158) which is a glossary of Scottish Gaelic terms.

Cassidese Glossary – Poke

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

Daniel Cassidy, in his etymological hoax How The Irish Invented Slang, claims that the carnival slang term poke for a bag comes from the Irish póca, which means a bag or pocket. In reality, of course, it is the other way round. Poke is an ancient term in English for a wallet or money bag, which dates back to the early 13^th century. It probably derives from some Germanic source via Old North French.

Incidentally, several of the words given by Cassidy here such as poc and poca are Scottish Gaelic, not Irish. They are different languages and there is little evidence of Scottish Gaelic being spoken in America in the 19^th century.

Cassidese Glossary – Miller

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

This is one of the most foolish and irrational claims in Cassidy’s book, that ‘miller’, an old cant term for a fighter or boxer, is from Irish.

Firstly, the most parsimonious explanation is quite simply that this expression is an extension of the word miller, someone who keeps or works in a mill. Millers have always had the reputation as strong, rough men, even back as far as Chaucer. And of course, milling can mean grinding, breaking, destroying. In other words, you don’t need to look any further than English ‘miller’ for the origins of the English slang expression ‘miller’.

Cassidy’s explanation, as usual, lacks any evidence, as well as any credibility.

“Miller, n., a boxer, a murderer. “Miller, a Killer …” (B.E.’s Dictionary of the Canting Crew, 1699.)

Míle (pron. m’íl’ə), n., a warrior, a soldier; a champion, a hero. Mill, v., to break, to injure; to damage, to destroy. (Dineen [sic], 742; Ó Dónaill, 859, 860.)

One person’s killer is another person’s miller (míle, pron. m’íl’ə, hero, warrior, soldier; champion; destroyer.)”

The problem with this is that míle is not a particularly good match in terms of sound (it’s pronounced meelya or meela – note that Cassidy’s phonetic transcription was as fake as everything else in his book) and it’s not a particularly common word. There are dozens of other words which suit the meaning of boxer or soldier or warrior far better, words like dornálaí (boxer), or saighdiúir (soldier), or trodaí (fighter). Míle is actually a fairly obscure borrowing of the Latin word mīles, the root of military and militia.

And it has no etymological connection with the word mill, meaning to destroy in Irish. (MacBain’s dictionary: destroy, Irish, Old Irish millim: *mel-ni-, root mele, fail, miss; Lithuanian mìlyti, fail; Greek @Gméleos, useless, wretched …) The word destroyer added to the list of meanings of míle above is yet another example of the kind of casual random dishonesty that makes Cassidy’s book so totally worthless. And in any case, how could giving two totally different words with different etymologies as the origin of one English expression ever strengthen his case rather than weaken it?

 

Cassidese Glossary – Mac, Mack

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

In Daniel Cassidy’s etymological hoax, How The Irish Invented Slang, Cassidy claims that this expression, used as an address to strangers in America, comes directly from the Irish word mac, which means son. On the face of it, this looks fairly convincing.

However, we need to examine such claims closely and objectively. The first problem is quite simply, why is this only an American expression? If it really came from Irish, surely you would expect Irish people to use it commonly? This is not the case.

Secondly, the term mac(k) is used to address people. The Irish language has a special case, the vocative, which is used to address people or animals or objects. Thus someone called Seán will be addressed in Irish as a Sheáin (a hyine). Someone called Máire will be addressed as a Mháire (a wyra).

In fact (as is usual in our language) it’s a little bit more complicated than that. As I mentioned in relation to the expression a stór, the grammar books specify that if an expression is metaphorical, then the word simply changes at the start (if it can change). Thus if you address someone as your treasure, you say a stór. If for some reason you are addressing a real box of treasure, you will make the full vocative change and say a stóir. If you don’t speak any Irish, don’t worry too much about this. All you need to know is that there are two ways of using mac in the vocative, a mhac (a wack) or a mhic (a vick). The former is theoretically used of someone who could be your son but isn’t, while a mhic would be used to your son.

In other words, as Irish speakers don’t say mac when addressing people, why would this expression come from Irish?

Incidentally, I’ll just share a cautionary tale with you here about how easy it is to be fooled by phoney etymologies. A few years ago, someone suggested that there was a lot of Irish in the slang of Liverpool, which is one of the most Irish places in England. One example given was the parting salutation Tara, whack!, which means something like ‘Goodbye, mate!’ This was claimed to be from Tabhair aire, a mhac! (Take care, sonny!) At the time, I thought this sounded reasonably convincing. While researching Cassidy’s book, I looked again at questions like this and found that it is almost certainly not true. Expressions like tara and tata are found in lots of dialects of English, not just Liverpudlian, and it turns out that long before Liverpudlians were known as Scousers (from a regional dish called lobscouse), they were termed whackers, which is a local English expression and probably unconnected with Irish. It is first recorded in 1768 but is not recorded in the shortened form of whack until the 1960s. Just goes to show that in etymology, even things that look convincing are often completely false.

Cassidese Glossary – Knack

For some time now, some of my on-line friends have advised me to provide a version of CassidySlangScam without the invective aimed at Cassidy and his supporters. In response to that advice, I am working on providing a glossary of the terms in Cassidy’s ludicrous book How The Irish Invented Slang with a short, simple and business-like explanation of why Cassidy’s version is wrong.

The origins of the word knack are unknown but it seems to have been used in its present sense as a special talent or skill by the late 16^th century.

According to Daniel Cassidy, in his work of false etymology, How The Irish Invented Slang, the word knack comes from the Irish word gnách. The word gnách is an adjective meaning customary, usual or ordinary. It is most commonly used in copular phrases like is gnách leo (they tend to, they have the habit of). Gnáth is a noun meaning custom, usage or customary thing and it is true that the two words sound almost identical and are often confused.

There are several problems with Cassidy’s claim. Firstly, while gnáth or gnách could theoretically be used as nouns to refer to a custom or ordinary usage, this would rarely be the case. Such uses would normally be expressed in Irish with nós (bhí nós aici bláthanna a chur san fhuinneog, bhí sé de nós aici bláthanna a chur san fhuinneog) or with a copular structure (ba ghnách léi bláthanna a chur san fhuinneog).

Secondly, a knack is not a custom. The meanings may be slightly similar but they are certainly not the same. In Irish, a knack is cleas, or bealach, or dóigh, or ciúta. It’s a special skill or trick or way of doing something. When you do something a lot, you may acquire a skill in doing it. But the two concepts are not the same.

This really cuts to the heart of why Cassidy’s ‘research’ is so worthless. As I have said before, the central problem is one of the mechanism of transmission. It’s all very well making a link between an Irish word with a particular meaning and an English word with a different but related meaning. It is much harder (in fact, it’s usually impossible) to imagine a situation where a bilingual Irish and English speaker would use the wrong word in any circumstance and this would be borrowed with a different meaning. Why would this happen? How would it happen?

Finally, gnách really doesn’t sound much like knack. You can find sound files for the dialects of Irish here:

https://www.focloir.ie/en/dictionary/ei/customary#customary__2