When Lisbeth was chatting on line, the other day, one of her friends used the word 'eponymous'. At first, I thought they were talking about Eponymous Bosch, the artist, but Lisbeth says I've got that completely round my ear and that I shouldn't just set off on posts when I don't know what I'm talking about. (So who's rattled her cage, today!)
So I looked it up. Apparently, the word eponymous comes from eponym and an eponym is the word used to describe a word that is derived from the name of a person or tribe. (I hope you're following this?) Anyway, you have things like Alexandria, from Alexander the Great (He created the place, or something), and Constantine and Constantinople.
I deduced, therefore, that I must be in an eponymous relationship with Mouton Cadet. "Since 1930, Mouton Cadet has been renowned for its exacting standards and audacity." That's me. "The fruit of generous Nature and the work of human hands..." That's me, too.
Now, before the supposed intelligentsia amongst you get on your high horses about the impossibility of this assertion, I would like to point out that things aren't always as clear cut or indisputable as one might think. A case in point is this spell-check. (Invaluable for a sheep of burgeoning brain.) This particular spell-check facility has it, in it's head, that the word 'eponym' isn't eponym at all, but some other word, misspelled. As such, it offers the following corrective options: Epsom, economy, upon, and euphonium................
Am I thinking 'ears', 'completely' and 'round' in the same sentence? Indeed I am. In fact, it's probably all a load of old bosch. (Ooo spell-check, spell-check!)
So I looked it up. Apparently, the word eponymous comes from eponym and an eponym is the word used to describe a word that is derived from the name of a person or tribe. (I hope you're following this?) Anyway, you have things like Alexandria, from Alexander the Great (He created the place, or something), and Constantine and Constantinople.
I deduced, therefore, that I must be in an eponymous relationship with Mouton Cadet. "Since 1930, Mouton Cadet has been renowned for its exacting standards and audacity." That's me. "The fruit of generous Nature and the work of human hands..." That's me, too.
Now, before the supposed intelligentsia amongst you get on your high horses about the impossibility of this assertion, I would like to point out that things aren't always as clear cut or indisputable as one might think. A case in point is this spell-check. (Invaluable for a sheep of burgeoning brain.) This particular spell-check facility has it, in it's head, that the word 'eponym' isn't eponym at all, but some other word, misspelled. As such, it offers the following corrective options: Epsom, economy, upon, and euphonium................
Am I thinking 'ears', 'completely' and 'round' in the same sentence? Indeed I am. In fact, it's probably all a load of old bosch. (Ooo spell-check, spell-check!)
4 comments:
Monsieur Mouton
Coincidental that Eponymous Bosch should come up as I have an correspondent who regularly signs of as Hieronymus, referring, I assume, to H. Bosch. Hieronymus leaves a welter of bewildering symbols on his canvas, and this correspondent leaves a bewildering welter of words, usually about American politics, as weird in its way as anything Bosch's human brain could conceive.
So, it was refreshing to see that you sheepishly made an eponymous connection with "mouton cadet". That works for me - I read your words and know instantly whether they taste convincingly and palately authentic. No weltering whim-whams to confuse me. But on second thought, all is not as it seems, as it usually is, or isn't.
One of the geysers
Goodness me, Mr A. Geyser. Your choice of words and structuring thereof is truly impressive. Thank you for your close reading of my post and for your considered comments. I will faithfully try to live up to such a vote of confidence.
I remain sheepishly in your debt.
Mouty
Mmmn.... well while I relish M. Mouton's eponymic forays, I'm surprised that he didn't mention his eponymous ovine relative after whom the English midlands town took its name, namely the Derby Ram. A mouton of impressive mythic proportions: As the song says "This ram he had two horns, sir, they reached up to the sky. A little boy went up in January and didn't get back till July." A lot of the other verses aren't repeatable if there are likely to be impressionable lambs in the vicinity.
And what's more, the aforesaid D Ram played a part in the development on one of the major musical forms of the last couple of centuries. The song gave rise to the tune "Didn't he ramble?" played by New Orleans marching bands for funerals, and they in turn were instrumental (!) in the foundation of jazz... Sheep have a lot to answer for.
And while we're dealing with matters oeneological, has M. Mouton never considered his relationship with Mouton Rothschild? Sheep, wine and banking - could heaven offer more treasures?
Hello Mr Rambler. What a fine and eloquent addition you are to my comments. I love the ram and the horns and the little boy rhyme. Also, I was fascinated to read about the "Didn't he ramble" tune. I will be looking into that. Thank you.
Now we come to Mouton Rothschild...
I have indeed ventured into that territory with a little ode that I penned some time ago, entitled "If I were Mouton Rothschild"
http://talkingpractice.blogspot.com/search?q=if+I+were+mouton+rothschild
You use a lot of big words Mr Rambler. I shall be looking into those, as well, to aid my most remarkable talking practice.
Au revoir for now
Mouty
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