Language Log

Below is a guest post/email by Preston C.:

I wanted to share a compact ambiguous sentence in the spirit of “Buffalo buffalo…,” but built from more ordinary English resources:

In Buttons’ Buttons, Buttons Buttons buttons Buttons Buttons’ buttons Buttons Buttons’ buttons’ buttons button.

One workable parse treats “Buttons Buttons” as a proper name, “Buttons’ Buttons” as a store, and button/buttons as verbs (“to fasten”). On that reading, the sentence means roughly:

In the store Buttons’ Buttons, Buttons Buttons fastens the buttons that his buttons’ buttons fasten.

Project Kino (3/23/26)

Last August and September, President Donald Trump asserted that his actions would reduce drug prices by as much as 1500%, and more recently claimed actual reductions by as much as 600%. On April 22, Elizabeth Warren questioned RFK Jr. about this. She registered a doubt about the mathematics of a reduction in price by greater than 100%, although she mainly focused on the fact that Costco's prices for some cited drugs are substantially less than those at Trump Rx.

The president pitched his Trump Rx website as the answer for Americans who are worried about healthcare costs. He claims that Trump Rx has reduced prices by as much as 600%, 600%, which I think means companies should be paying you to take their drugs.

A couple of days ago in the Oval Office, RFK Jr. left Costco out of it, and offered an odd defense of the president's percentage calculations.

Homer's Iliad Book 1 Recitation | Lines 1-21 | Restored Ancient Greek | Greek History

‘If This Be Magic’ Review: A Great Feast of Languages
Shakespeare has resonated with audiences in Swedish, Swahili and beyond. But translating the Bard requires some difficult choices.
By Henry Hitchings, WSJ (April 22, 2026)

Transferring Shakespeare's works into another language is hard work:

Samuel Johnson complained, more than 250 years ago, that William Shakespeare’s style was “ungrammatical, perplexed, and obscure.” Many students and theatergoers since have shared that view. Yet even if we agree with Johnson, it has become customary to celebrate instead the playwright’s linguistic resourcefulness and dazzle: his flair for coining words and twisting old ones into new shapes, his taste for double meanings and calculated ambiguity.

The obscurity condemned by Johnson derives in part from Shakespeare’s readiness to draw on vocabulary that would have struck even his contemporaries as bewilderingly nonstandard. Today many of us are as likely to be disorientated by his fondness for folklore and myth, his assumptions about religion and social order, and his immersion in the conventions of Elizabethan and Jacobean theater.

In "Poem in the key of what" (10/9/2006), I blogged about a paper by Maartje Schreuder, Laura van Eerten and Dicky Gilbers, "Speaking in major and minor keys". Its abstract:

In music the difference between sad and cheerful melodies is often indicated as a difference between a minor and a major key. In order to investigate whether the same difference can be found in language, we analyzed intonation contours in emotional speech. We made cluster analyses in order to find out which fundamental frequencies were most present in the contours. Furthermore, we analyzed the musical scores of sad and cheerful speech as well. In the pitch contours of all speakers we found intervals of three semitones in sad passages and intervals of four semitones in cheerful passages. We therefore conclude that emotional speech melody, just as musical melody, involves major and minor modalities.

I expressed some skepticism:

The idea behind this paper is that the pitch contours of speech naturally express the same sorts of melodic intervals that occur in music. This is an old idea, prominent already in Paṇini's work two and a half millennia ago, but Schreuder et al. have a new idea about how to look for the phenomenon. While it's clear that musical intervals are part of the stylized forms of speech that we call "chanting", I've always been skeptical that well-defined intervals (in the sense of small-integer ratios of pitch values) play a role in unchanted speech. I'll explain some reasons for my skepticism later in this post. However, it would be fun to be wrong on this one.

"Japan announces new name for days over 40C after hottest summer ever", by Ruth Wright, Euronews (4/20/26)

They have words for it.  The one that's taking the online media by storm is kokushobi  酷暑日.  That literally means "harsh / cruel + hot days".  I can attest to this characterization of scorching  days in Japan.  I remember one summer in Kyoto, which I wouldn't think of as a particularly hot city, when I stood on the sidewalk and was getting ready to cross the street, the pavement of which seemed to be melting under the shimmering heat waves.

The cited article gives other currently popular words for dog days (7/3/25-9/11/26 in America this summer) in Japan.

A note from Ambarish S.:

There’s an ongoing controversy in India with Prime Minister Modi being accused of blackface during an election campaign in the south, where people have darker skin on average. The Alert (a Hindi news website of unknown reputation) had the following Hindi sentence on it’s X:

तमिलनाडु रैली में मोदी जी का लुक वायरल!

where only the postpositions (में and का) and arguably the honorific जी are Hindi! तमिलनाडु and मोदी are proper nouns, while रैली, लुक and वायरल are respectively “rally", “look" and "viral”. The whole thing translates to “Modi Ji’s look at Tamil Nadu rally viral”.

I never dreamed that I would be subjected to an MRI or a CAT scan or other sophisticated diagnostic system that enables medical specialists to see detailed tomographic images from inside your body.

For both of these devices, the patient lies on a flat surface and is inserted in a tube-like scanner.  They both make conspicuous noises all the while you are inside of them, and that is a normal part of their function. The CAT scan makes clicking, buzzing, humming, and whirring sounds.  The MRI is stranger.  You feel like you're going in a long winding, curving tunnel.  The one I was in made me think it had white brick walls interspersed with red glazed bricks.  I was a bit afraid that I would go so deep inside that I might never come out.

My rehab roomie has an unusual habit when speaking.  He randomly inserts the syllable "way" in his phrases (seldom finishes a complete sentence) and often repeats it multiple times.  Some examples:

I way

I way way

My wife way

My son way

I want way way way to toilet way.

Bed way

Following up on "Bro!", I've discovered a useful coinage from Canada: Matthew Urichuk and Verónica Loureiro-Rodríguez, "Brocatives: Self-reported use of masculine nominal vocatives in Manitoba (Canada)." In It’s not all about you: New perspectives on address research,  2019:

This study focuses on nominal vocatives that have been traditionally associated with male speakers and addressees (familiarizers in Leech’s terminology, 1999), and which we will call ‘brocatives’.

On walkways around Penn's campus, I'm hearing bro more and more often. Especially common, or at least especially striking, is a monosyllabic response meaning something like "You're kidding!"

A: So then they [blah blah]…
B: Bro! 

…which I'm hearing as often among groups of female students as male students (though I admit that the added surprisal in that context might leave me with a false estimate of frequency).