The (I hope temporary) habits of my 1.5-year-old remind me of one of my favorite words: "Illeist," which means "someone who refers to himself in the third person."
OK, it's not "favorite" in that I actually use it in conversation, since its obscurity makes it incapable of serving the basic function of a word (effective communication). But I still like to talk about it.
As to the topic of parenting, small children go through a lot of odd phases. NewWorldDan's 3-year-old has started calling her parents by first name. NewWorldDan liked it better when he was simply known as 'Daddy'.
Since "Daddy" is descriptive rather than a proper name, I wonder if it really is illeist, even though it seems to meet the dictionary definition.
I do not know if this judge repeats the practice at home. I have visions of him telling his spouse, "We would like some more meat, dear."
In any event, I can vaguely understand why this judge has this affectation: He is saying that he is speaking not for himself, personally, but on behalf of the judicial branch.
That said, outside of the speech described in the above posts ("Mommy loves you"), refering to oneself in the third person singular is just weird. However, referring to oneself in the third person plural is likely a sign of mental illness.
Pretty rash assertion. 'Effective obfuscation' is often the goal, or just beating people about the head and shoulders with your vocabulary.
I have never witnessed this phenomenon--"They would really like to go out today . . . " Yeah, mental illness alright.
Jimmy: "You know...Jimmy is pretty sweet on you."
Elaine: "Aaaaaahhh! He is?!"
Jimmy: "Oh yeah!. Jimmy's been watching you....you're just Jimmy's type."
Elaine: "AAaaaaahhh! Really?"(giggles)
Jimmy: "Jimmy's new in town. Jimmy hem ..doesn't really know anyone."
Elaine: "Oh! well I'd like, like to get to know him."
Jimmy: "Jimmy would like to get to know you."
Elaine: "Ha...."
Jerry: You said, "George likes spicy chicken."
George: No I didn't.
Elaine: Yes, you did. You said, "George likes spicy chicken."
Jerry: You're turning into Jimmy.
George: George is getting upset!
Maybe he thought he was in the service of the British Crown.
Nice. Best laugh I've had in a while.
Doubtless you meant to say, "OK, it's not favorite in that Volokh actually uses it in conversation, since its obscurity makes it incapable of serving the basic function of a word (effective communication). But Volokh still likes to talk about it."
Hm. I may have to reconsider several rap lyrics in the light of this new information.
The other day she told me "Ruth doesn't like me." This seemed odd, considering Ruth seemed to like her just fine. Eventually I got her to clarify that what she meant was, "I don't like Ruth."
Guy: He's great!
Julius Caesar: Who?
Guy: You!
Julius Caesar: Oh, him!
Question: Are these all just affectations? This author (that is to say, I) thinks so. Or do they serve a useful purpose, to convey objectivity, impersonality, gravitas, etc.?
Or, to play devil's advocate, is the increasing rejection of these conventions, even in some scientific writing, but most clearly in other fields, just a sign of our culture's increasing narcissism, subjectivism, emotivism, etc.?
P.S. # 2: Sprinkling in the third person can create some variety when just repeating "I" over and over again would be tedious. Of course, the best solution is to rewrite to eliminate the need for too many references to the author in the first place.
P.S. # 3: The first person plural sometimes is sometimes used with (purposeful or negligent) ambiguity or double-coding, so that it can refer either to the author or to a putative consensus of readers. (E.g., "we believe that....," "we care about....") This can be helpful, or annoying, partly depending on whether the reader accepts being lumped together with the author's invocation of "we."
Can you give us an example?...
"Double Pluses" are scary, says the old geezer dude who scored double minuses yesterday.
Clumsy miscommunication of young ones is more enjoyable than deliberate miscommunication of teenagers.
Vegetable rights and peace, man.
I was reminded by this article.
Is there a legal remedy that these people can use?
Michael Shermer's book Why People Believe Weird Things devoted a chapter to the repressed-memory phenomenon, concluding that it was all basically bunk. It's been a while since I read that book, but I seem to recall that there is at least one man in Maine serving a life sentence on the basis of his daughter's "repressed" memories of Satanic ritual abuse (which I seem to recall allegedly involved, inter alia, the cannibalism of infants).
Yes, you should always use the most appropriate word. But when faced with two equally appropriate words, use the one that wastes the least ink. It makes lifeeasier on the reader, and thus increases the likelihood of conveying the thought.
does anyone know what legally became of the child-sex-abuse cases of the early 90's and the public-panic about repressed memories?
Here in Massachusetts the Amiraults (Fells Acres) are still registered sex offenders. Gerald was paroled on April 30, 2004; Cheryl some years earlier; Violet died on September 12, 1997. See this site.
Well, yes, now that suicide's been decriminalized. Other than that, no; Harshbarger et al. fall into the 'Important People' category.
If it were from French, yes, but it ain't. It's from illus/illa, so not clear if it would change.
What about those who conclude each comment with their own screen name, despite the fact that his/her screen name is clearly visible to all up top?
E.g., ending this post with "So says Adeez!!!"
Also helps that there were two of them.
Now we all know about "illeists," but where does that leave Caesar? The man wrote his Gallic War Commentaries often referring to himself using "ipse," meaning "he himself," further intensifying the power of the third person. What an ipse-ist Tacitean himself would make!
A few years of Latin would also do the trick.
Were Bob to find himself and his friends in mortal danger from a menacing individual who happened to be standing near an open window, he might risk blurting out, "Let's defenestrate him!" in the hopes that his friends would understand and that the thug would not.
And of course, you could look it up if you weren't sure.
An ileitist?
I learned the distinction between you and me fairly early. My parents said we were going to Belle-Vue, a park with a zoo in Northern England. I heard Belle-Vue as Belve-You and so, naturally, I asked them when they were taking me to Belve-Me.
Speaking of how children use language, does anyone know what legally became of the child-sex-abuse cases of the early 90's and the public-panic about repressed memories?
The defendants in the first and perhaps most celebrated of the child-sex-abuse cases, the McMartin Preschool case of the 1980s, went on to live their lives under a cloud of suspicion. Even after the defendants were acquitted (with one of them, Ray Buckey, having his jury hung on a few charges, never retried), surveys showed the vast majority of the public believed them guilty. That was largely the result of one-sided press coverage.
The methods used to interrogate the children have now been roundly condemned, and it is safe to say the testimony pointing to the defendants' guilt was highly unreliable. One of the alleged child victims, now, of course, an adult, wrote a long story for the Los Angeles Times a year or two ago revealing how it was he ended up telling his interrogators things he didn't remember at all. He apologized to all the defendants, although, since he was a manipulated child, it really was not his doing.
Court TV's story on the McMartin case has a section on "The True Victims," which describes what happened to some of the defendants in other similar cases. You can find it here.
"Vent" in English, like, I suppose, "ventana" in Spanish, comes from the Latin "ventus" for "wind," according to the OED.
(Note: this is different from "vent" meaning "an opening or slit in a garment," which, like its more obscure synonym "fent," comes from the French "fendre," from the Latin "findere," meaning "to split." This is also different from "vent" having to do with "vending," or "vent" having to do with "ventriloquist"!)
On the other hand, "defenestrate" comes from the Latin "fenestra," meaning "window," from the Greek root "φαίυεω," meaning "to show."
So I don't think "Fenster" and "vent" are related.
Even if you are composing poetry?