Apple bricking making iPhone owners brick it

In case you’ve been on planet iPod?Couldn’tGiveA, no doubt you’ve already heard all about how Apple are punishing their customers who have dared to unlock the iPhone or install third-party applications.

Stories about this have flared up all over the press and internet, but what I find really curious is the immediate invention and acceptance of a brand new verb.

Apple is repeatedly reported to have “bricked” the unlocked iPhones. “To brick”, in this case, seems to mean “render as useful as a brick.” And while bricks are indeed extremely useful, I’m sure owners of the $399 gadget would hesitate before cementing their prize and joy to another, or throwing it through a shop window. (For the record, the official, unbrickish and frankly dull statement from Apple is that modifying your phone will make it “permanently inoperable”.)

But why a brick? Why not say that a useless iPhone is like a paperweight or doorstop? My hunch is that the instant appeal of calling it a brick is that it hints at the early days of mobile phones, when the phones were literally as big and heavy as bricks. Of course the difference is that despite appearances, those bricks still operated as phones. The iBrick, however, has the exact same phone functionality as its clay brethren.

Another obvious connection is with the verb “to brick it”, a delightful Britishicism meaning to be very nervous or scared. Rumour has it that the origin of this phrase lies with the brick uh, outhouses of yesteryear, where, of course, one went to empty one’s bowels. An action which may or may not have occurred across the world as iPhone owners suddenly realised that their new $399 toy had turned into a brick.

The origin of ‘bum’

I was asked the other week to find out the origin of the word “bum”. ‘I write a serious blog about language!’ I spluttered in indignation. But, today, bored on a lunchbreak, I decided that there’s nothing undignified in pursuing the etymological explanation of a mildly provocative expletive.

So here we go: the meaning behind the behind.

(And for any non-British readers who don’t already know, a bum is what we call a posterior, ass, arse, butt, bottom. You get the idea.)

It seems that ‘bum’ was used by none other than a Mr William Shakespeare. The passage is in Measure to Measure, when Escalus asks Pompey his surname. “Bum, Sir” replies Pompey. To which Escalus says, “Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you; so that in the beastliest sense you are Pompey the Great.” Hilarious.

So that’s proof that bums existed in Sheakespeare’s day. Disappointingly, my Chambers’ Dictionary of Etymology is clearly and firmly American. Hence bum only appears in the sense of a vagrant or loafer, which can be traced to the German bummeln, ‘to loaf’.

However, the Oxford English Dictionary says that bum heralds from 1387, and is “probably onomatopoeic, to be compared with other words of similar sound and with the general sense of ‘protuberance, swelling.’

Looking up bums was fun, and I’d like to do more. So every now and then I will find another word and look up its origins. It’ll probably be when I have either found a particularly delightful etymology, or when I have nothing else to blog about. And I will also take requests…

The 14th century: not the most charming age

While researching the history of town/gown problems for a feature I’m writing, I came across the website of Richard Herring (comedian of ‘Lee and Herring’ fame).

Somewhat surprisingly, he had quite a lot to say about the issue of students vs locals. And since it’s both educational and amusing I thought I should share…

“It happened on St Scholastica’s Day (February 10th) in 1354. St Scholastica (literally “she who has the leisure to study”) incidentally is the patron saint of convulsive children, nuns and storms. Her patronage also extends to being “against rain,” which seems a bit short-sighted in the long run. Sure useful for days when you’re having a barbecue, but if she proves too effective we’re all going to get a bit thirsty.

“Anyway on her day in 1354 some posh students were drinking in the Swyndlestock Tavern in Oxford and accused the landlord of serving them “indifferent wine”. The regular non-University punters of the establishment took exception to their attitude and the argument escalated into a full-blown riot. The townsfolk beat and killed the Gownsfolk and ransacked their colleges for three glorious days before order was restored.

“Nowadays, thanks to political correctness gone mad, attacking students is against the law, but I believe in honour of this historical event we should make an exception for St Scholastica’s Day. On this occasion all decent, ordinary, hard-working normal people are allowed to absent themselves from their place of labour and search out University students. If they discover any they must playfully batter them round the head with twigs, branches or iron bars, but the beating MUST STOP once the student is dead.

The only place where students might seek sanctuary from this charming tradition is within the confines of their library and even then only if they are studying within its environs. So ironically whilst everyone else gets the day off to hunt down students, St Scholistica’s Day is the only day of the year when students actually have to do any work. But as long as all the students stay in the library, the rest of us can stay in the pub with our feet up, drinking indifferent wine to our heart’s content. Sweet!”