What's Weird

"Weird Al" Yankovic performing live... 2010 Tour 

by Kristine Slipson licensed under Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported

Propagandists are weird. As far back as July 2021, this blog named the contemporary pseudo-populists in politics as "propagators of weird social beliefs."[1] Even then, the swill of truthiness, trash-talk, and outrageous screeches for the camera of these propagandists was so amplified that some perspective was required. 

The plea in later blog posts was that it is: 

...often safest and best to assume that a propagandist is weird, driven to develop extraordinary skills of self-preservation from probably a very early age, by a distorted commitment to being right and winning–at everything, by whatever means–including as an adult through remarkably protracted gaming of the legal system. All the lies, distortions, and dodges are tactics to prove to anyone who'll react that the propagandist is right and a winner, at your cost.[2]

Yet, the history of the word weird offers its own twists. Unsurprisingly with a living language, this word's story is, well, a bit weird.

Today, we mainly use weird to describe what's bizarre, cringeworthy, creepy, odd, peculiar, unusual, or eerie–with a strongly negative connotation. At the same time, Internet slang in its perversity can use weird to describe something unique or unconventional[3]–as a compliment, akin to how the word "Sick!" becomes a positive.

These are modern twists in the word's history from the Modern English period (c. 1500). In Middle English (c. 1100) connotations of the supernatural or uncanny were dominant. Mainly, before this, all the way back to the originally recorded Old English (c. 725), the word referred to fate or destiny and was often associated with supernatural or mystical beings.[4]

Other changes were to the word's spelling. The transition to "weird" came with the Anglo-Norman influence from the 1100s. Old Norse (c. 900) had adopted "urðr," referring to the fate or destiny of individuals–which was "often associated with the Norns, who controlled the destinies of gods and humans." Earlier, Old High German (c. 800) had ushered in the use of "wurt" in place of the original Old English "wyrd."[5] 

This etymological story might serve as a timely warning. It'd be unfortunate and confusing if the Old English referent for what's "wyrd" as fate or destiny was in current use. Thank goodness we give the most common, modern meaning to "weird." 

Its application to propagandists seems especially apt. What's really WEIRD are the obsessive energies of these zealots, who foment hate to target and marginalize any group not serving the propagandists' self-interest. 

Nothing mysterious or supernatural here–just cruel perversion and self-obsession. If there's any othering worth doing, in the spirit of George Orwell's urging,[6] what is needed are ongoing efforts at scale to drive the lies and drivel of propagandists "into the dustbin" where they belong.

References

1. Word to the Wise blog (2021), To Strengthen Democracy, July 30,  https://communicator.rodney-miller.com/2021/07/to-strengthen-democracy.html

2. Word to the Wise blog (2022), Certainty Claims, April 22,  https://communicator.rodney-miller.com/2022/04/certainty-claims.html

3. WikiEtymology (2024), "Etymology of Weird," https://wikietymology.com/w/etymology-of-weird/

4. WikiEtymology (2024)

5. WikiEtymology (2024)

6. George Orwell (1981), “Politics and the English Language,” A Collection of Essays, Orlando, FL: Harcourt, p. 171 [1^st published 1946]

Some Dodgy Verbs

The Artful Dodger from Oliver Twist 

by 'Kyd' (Joseph Clayton Clark; 1857-8 August 1937). 

This image is in the Public Domain {{PD-US}} 

Of course, words are not dodgy since they have no meaning other than the significance that authors and readers or listeners give them.

But certainly, how a journalist uses verbs reveals much about the journalist. For example, have you noticed how a public figure is often reported as "trying" to do or say something? 

Weirdly, a television journalist will share a video clip that clearly shows a public figure taking an action or making a comment–then the journalist paraphrases what we've just seen with a redraft of what the public figure is "trying" to do or say. 

Especially when the verb "try" occurs like this repeatedly in successive sentences, it's at least distracting, or puzzling, or downright annoying. At worst, the insertions insult our abilities, since we've just seen or heard what the public figure did or said. With some journalists, these qualifiers punctuate news reports like raisins in a fruit cake.

The cumulative effect is to imply the public figure is someone who is continuously trying but never succeeding. And "trying" in this context implies failing or weakness.

This is especially so when the journalist cites in the same report that the public figure's opponent "slams" or "blasts" the actions or statements–verbs that imply power, dominance, or strength, which are likely lifted directly from a media release. Really?! No wonder so many journalists are considered useful idiots by propagandists.

Are such habits taught in journalism classes or demanded on the job by editors? Perhaps this is some sort of carry-over from editors' directives to insert verbs like "believe," "understand," or similar to distinguish what is not fully known or knowable, or to label what are merely claims. Or maybe this is all part of some misguided or naive effort to appear objective. 

Ironically, for anyone paying attention, this failure to use words wisely helps progressively to diminish the credibility of the journalist and the media.