hocus-pocus

Hocus-pocus is a noun used to describe magic or sleight of hand, often in a derogatory sense (as in ‘the saleperson did some kind of hocus-pocus and now I own a cow’). But did you know that actually, using it might get you struck by lightning/sent straight to hell (if you believe in that type of thing, of course)? That’s because some people believe it’s a corruption (or a perversion if you’re feeling particulary angry) of the phrase ‘Hoc est enim corpus meum’ or ‘This is my body’ which is used in Catholic masses for the Eucharist. GASP. This connection was first made in 1694 (which shows how old the word is) by John Tillotson, who was only the bloody Archbishop of Canterbury. He said this is one of his sermons:

“In all probability those common juggling words of hocus pocus are nothing else but a corruption of hoc est corpus, by way of ridiculous imitation of the priests of the Church of Rome in their trick of Transubstantiation.”

Despite this, there isn’t any real evidence to prove that 17th-century conjurers were actively trying to commit blasphemy or sentence themselves to eternal damnation. It’s more likely that hocus-pocus is just a couple of rhyming nonsense words put together that magicians incorporated into their patter to help them misdirect their audiences.

There’s also a theory that we get the word ‘hoax’ from the ‘hocus’ of ‘hocus pocus’, which was itself used on its own to mean ‘to play a trick on, to trick (someone)’ or, randomly, ‘to stupefy (someone) with drugged liquor ( … to steal from them)’ (from Wiktionary).

illeist

If you’re an illeist, it means you’re speaking about yourself in the third person, instead of the first. So if I said ‘Emma has a wet bum, because she just spilled a full cup of coffee in her lap’ (true story folks), then I’d be using illeism. And also sounding like a bit of an idiot.

Etymology-wise this one’s pretty straightforward, with ‘ille’ being Latin for ‘that man’ or ‘he’, plus the suffix ‘-ist’ which we add to things to show that someone’s doing them (if that makes sense) – like ‘pianist’ or ‘capitalist’. The term was coined by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (he of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, which I genuinely love, and also the opium-induced, unfinished Kubla Khan) in 1809.

One of the most famous historical illeists is Julius Caesar, who used it in Commentarii de Bello Gallico, his non-fictional account of the Gallic Wars. This was to make it sound like it was impartial, when obviously it wasn’t at all. And it might also be better filed in the ‘Fiction’ section at Waterstones, as several of Caesar's claims seem to have been outright lies. For example, he said that the Romans fought Gallic forces of up to 430,000, which was an impossible army size for the time, and also that not one Roman died during this battle. I call bullshit…

Other more modern illeists, both fictional and non-fictional, include:

  • Gollum from Lord of the Rings – although he does it because he doesn’t have anyone else to talk to, which is sad

  • Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson who used illeism in his wrestling catchphrases – ‘Do you smell what The Rock is cooking?’ (um, no thanks)

  • Hercule Poirot, who almost always talked about himself and his little grey cells in the third person

  • Dobby the house elf in the Harry Potter series (god rest his soul) – ‘Dobby has no master. Dobby is a free elf!’

While you might think talking about yourself in the third person makes you sound like a dick, in fact psychologists suggest that there are real benefits to doing just that – but only in your head, not out loud. The idea is that it can help you change your perspective to get past biases and improve decision-making. Emma will definitely be trying this from now on (once her bum dries off).

(With thanks to the No Such Thing As A Fish podcast, which is where I heard this word.)

deadline

To quote Douglas Adams:

‘I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.’

As a freelance writer, deadlines are a thing that I know a lot about and I also spend a lot of time worrying about. But what I didn’t know is that the word itself has a surprisingly bloody history…

‘Deadline’ as we know it today, i.e. a date or time by which you have to do something, has only been around since the 20th century. But the word itself is much older, and dates back to the 1860s. At this time it referred to a line drawn in or around a prison. If a prisoner went over the line, they’d be shot. Hence, ‘deadline’.

The word was made famous by a Confederate prison for prisoners of war called Andersonville in Georgia in America. Andersonville was known for having comfy cushions in each cell, fresh fruit for breakfast and massages for well-behaved inmates. Only kidding, obviously – it was notorious for its terrible conditions and, you’ve guessed it, use of deadlines. This is from a report on conditions in the prison from one Confederate Captain Walter Bowie (he knows Major Tom’s a junkie):

‘On the inside of the stockade and twenty feet from it there is a dead-line established, over which no prisoner is allowed to go, day or night, under penalty of being shot.’

Just to show you how awful Andersonville was, it was only open for just over a year, yet nearly 13,000 of the 45,000 prisoners of war died from lovely things like scurvy, diarrhoea and dysentery. This was probably due to the fact that it was overcrowded by four times its capacity. After the war ended in 1865, Captain Henry Wirtz, the camp’s commandant, was hanged for war crimes.

(By John L. Ransom – this image is available from the United States Library of Congress’ prints and photographs division under the digital ID pga.02585.)

(By John L. Ransom – this image is available from the United States Library of Congress’ prints and photographs division under the digital ID pga.02585.)

So how did the meaning change to the less-shooty version we have today? Well, no one knows for sure, but it may well have been influenced by its use to describe a guideline on the bed of a printing press, after which the text wouldn’t print properly. Whatever the route, by the early 1900s people started using the word ‘deadline’ to describe any line that shouldn’t be crossed, and from there it wasn’t long before it became a synonym (i.e. another word for) a time limit.

(With thanks to my dad for telling me about the origins of this word.)

A mug my parents bought me. Just for any potential clients reading this – I’ve actually never missed a deadline. HONEST.

A mug my parents bought me. Just for any potential clients reading this – I’ve actually never missed a deadline. HONEST.