Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Words and stuff.
Somehow I'd missed this. Blunkett coins the term "Liberati". He refuses to say what it means though, merely implying they are bad and foolish people.
Isn't it nice when someone feels they have to resort to name-calling to win arguments? I don't think the fact he made up the name makes any difference.
So where can it have come from?
Obvious choices, considering the man is a Home Sec, include Liberty and Liberality. Outsider suggestions include Liberace, and Library [the latter assumes Bushisms are infectious]. Unless it’s that recently rejuvenated word: Liberate. Somehow I can't see a man in Blair's cabinet wanting to draw further attention to that word. It is strange that the powers that be chose to "liberate" Iraq, given the word has long a euphemism for the act of purloining.
So it's probably associated with the pesky concepts of liberty and liberalism (or even libertarianism).
Which leaves the ending to be figured out. -ati. Presumably selected in part for phonetic quality (the man has previously bashed "arty-farty" people, so presumably is used to pronouncing those syllables). Most likely is that it is a continuation of the clustering terms suggested by literati, glitterati or bloggerati [Oh, is that what Technorati means? I always assumed it used -rati to imply rating)]. Each of the terms suggests some sort of grouping, be it elite or merely clique.
So what does it imply if a Minister thinks he needs to demonise a liberal or libertarian elite?
Incidentally, the incidences of each variant spelling of the above terms is below [Version: Google hits]. It would seem that the English root word prefix is more important than sticking to the Literati structure (the spelling changes despite no pronunciation change in that syllable).
Gliterati: 519
Glitterati: 45k
Glitter-ati: 4
Blogerati: 1.5k
Bloggerati: 5.9k
Blog-erati: 5
Blogger-ati: 0 [Obviously Blogger is too common to have an elite].
And how long before the assorted -erati terms join forces with the terms derived from bureaucrats? There's already technocrats spawning technocrati [Technocrati.com curiously reloads as Technorati]. Though following that thought produces the Libecrati [1], a fearsome liberal cliquey elite protected by officialdom. So the Civil Service then? [If one uses liberal in the Whig sense].
[1] Or should that be Libercrati?
I've just discovered there is a Liberarti, a free arts festival first held in Liverpool [Surely that would Liverarti then? Which apparently is a festival in Bulgaria. Liverati is a, presumably Italian, composer, and later a singer].
So perhaps Mr Blunkett was referring to the Liverpudlian festival goers. Which given he is usually pandering to The Sun-god, it could well be, as he knows Liverpudlians aren't too keen on The Sun, and so Blunkett putting down Liverpudlians could go unnoticed in the area. Though I'm not sure what the Plymouth connection is.
And the other word curiosity of the day is "surely to goodness": used to express and emphasise incredulity and disbelief. For example if X says A is B, Y might comment "But X must know A is only A, surely to goodness".
Where? Why? Who? Does anyone know where this term comes from? Google just shrugs and brings up Hansard and what look like minutes from the Irish Anglican Church [now that's got to be a fun denomination. It's a bit like trying to be damned if you do, damned if you don't].
As a linguistic structure it doesn't even make sense. It functions as "surely", but "surely to goodness"? One may as well have "Certainly to kind pleasantness, in a Liberati-an way". But there must be some logical explanation and derivation, that fits with the current definition, mustn't there? There must be, surely to goodness, there must be.
Answers on the back of a postcard to...well actually comments or email would work just as well, if not better.
Anyhoo,
PS. It's raining; very windy; half the plants are lodged in other plants [complete with large earthenware pots]; the grapevine tried taking out the phone line, and pulled the guttering downpipe out of the wall; there's big chunks falling out of trees; the bottom of the hill looks like a beaver's lodge, complete with lake; and I have a sore throat and just started sneezing. It'll be summer. Huzzah!
