Transliterated

I sometimes wonder about language. I know that all the Romance languages come from Latin, so they are the same "at root". But then again they are different for a reason.  So as an exercise, I took the text of Mary Had A Little Lamb and ran it through the transliteration process at Babelfish.

We started with the odd constructions of English poetry, simplified them into Spanish, complicated and contracted them by means of French, and then passed them into that wonderfully over-literal language German, and then back again into our native English.

I'm sure the "root" of it is perfectly intelligible, no?

Maria had a small lamb,
small lamb,
small lamb,
Maria had a small lamb,
of, which was white heavy and smooth rag as snow.
AND by all parts this Maria,
Maria was,
Maria was,
and by all parts this Maria was,
l' Lamb was reliably d' to go.

It is to l' followed; Train one day
l' School teaches one day
one day,
it is it to l' followed; School per one day,
against which rules which was.
It ensured that the children laugh and the play,
the laughter and made the play,
the laughter and the play,
the children to laugh and the play,
around a lamb in l' to see; School.

AND the professor gave it so much outside
return toward outside
in view of the return it
approximately in view of the return it toward the outside,
AND the professor gave it so much return toward the outside,
but it was expected still close
AND patientement over stopped,
patientement over,
patientement over
AND been waiting patientement around jusqu' Maria appear.

Why l' Lamb likes Maria so much?
Does Maria love so much?
Does Maria love so much? 
Parce qu' it makes l' Loves Maria of l' Lamb therefore,
the impatient cry of the children. 
Because Maria l' likes;
Lamb you know."
L' You, l' know lamb
You know lamb, 
Because Maria l' likes; You know lamb, the professor answered.

Grammar Noir

I missed National Grammar Day again this year (March 4).

But no matter; like a good book, Grammar Day is something you can take up any time. Jenn at Of Cabbages and Kings has a brilliant grammar noir.

What, you didn't know there was such a thing as grammar noir? I'll bet there are lots of things you don't know.

The phone rang— I made an em-dash for it. A man was on the line. He said he had colon problems. I told him I was an editor, not a proctologist. He said that was swell, and he'd be right over.

He showed up at the office with a preposition for me. I said, is that a pen in your pocket, or are you happy to see me? He opened his coat to reveal his piece. A powerful little number but bulky. I asked him to put it slowly on the table so we could get down to work.

He hesitated, asking me for a quote first. I gave him two, telling him he'd need both for later.

Then he said he was ready to show me the colon. I saw right away he had a nice asterisk, but had to force myself to look beyond his dangling participle. It was totally out of whack, and I didn't want to embarrass him this soon in the meeting.

Well, it turns out he was wrong. The colon was listing, all right, but it looked like the rest had been hit by a semi-.

I explained the clause of his troubles twice. He wasn't getting it. "Do I need to draw you a diagram?" I asked.

I didn't want to compound his frustration; he was a client, after all. I was just wondering how we could find unity on this, when we reached a conjunction. That's when he hit me with the complement. "You're the definite article," he said, drawing me close.

Suddenly, our ellipse met... something I never would have predicated. It was like a spell.

And that's when the grammar police burst through the door. Turns out, my client was wanted in three states for adverb abuse.

Quickly, suddenly, nervously, desperately, he pulled his piece on them. And that was all the evidence they needed.

Soon we were in a court down at the capital. It was an upper case. Things were tense, as we worried about our past, present and future.

Then the judge read the sentence.

The collective had spoken and there was agreement. Guilty as charged!

I tried to explain it was just bad comma, but I could see we were at an end mark. They threw the book at him. The sentence. It had us in fragments. We both suffixed terribly. In fact, we still suffix.

Because we were -ment to be together. And that's all that matters.

Period.

Here are some other examples of the noir:

Baltimore writer and editor John McIntyre of the "You Don't Say" blog has composed a grammar noir series featuring many of our favorite language lovers.

Part I, 2010

Part II, 2010

Part III, 2010

Part IV, 2010

Last year's grammar noir

If You Know What I Mean

I make some of the worst jokes sometimes. They're not even funny, but they do amuse me. Most of them are language driven - some things just sound funny, even though they are not themselves funny.

It's not that they are offensive, they're just not funny -- except in my head. I know what I mean.

I went to Wegmans a couple of months ago, and the teenage girl checkout clerk was Turkish (obviously second generation). I mentioned I used to live there once and she asked if I spoke Turkish.

"Badly", was the answer. "I use it as a convenient language my kids don't understand. They think that hadi, gidelim is a girl in the Prosthetics Department." -- and she laughed!

Now, this is only slightly amusing if you're an English speaker listening to Turkish and have an overactive word association imagination. It means "Come on, let's go", but if you say it quickly and listen with an English ear, it sounds like "Heidi, get a limb".

The Greeks also have a saying: Christos Anesti! (Christ is risen!) Alithos Anesti! (He is risen indeed!).

So, in that same spirit I offer you my Easter greeting: "Halitosis is nasty!"

(If you know what I mean.)

Dictionary Game: Flocci, et. al.

My family has played the "dictionary game" for years growing up. We'd argue about words, spellings, origins, and grammar.

I actually spelled this word correctly from memory today. Yes, I'm a word freak.
You get to read about it from Wikipedia:

Floccinaucinihilipilification (pronounced /ˌflɒksɨˌnɔːsɨˌnaɪ(h)ɪlɨˌpɪlɨfɪˈkeɪʃən/; British English (help·info), American English (help·info); variously floccipaucinihilipilification, with p for n) is the estimation of something as worthless, or the habit of doing so.^[1] Sometimes written with hyphens, it is frequently cited as one of the longest words in the English language.

The word is derived from a list of Latin words found in a section of the Eton Latin Grammar.^[1] The word is said to have been invented as an erudite joke by a student of Eton College, who found in his textbook four ways of saying "don't care" and combined them:^{[citation needed]}

• flocci facere (from floccus, -i a wisp or piece of wool)
• nauci facere (from naucum, -i a trifle)
• nihili facere (from nihilum, -i nothing; something valueless (lit. "not even a thread" from ni+hilum)) Example being: "nihilism"
• pili facere (from pilus, -i a hair; a bit or a whit; something small and insignificant)

Hey, at least I didn't say Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.

Language Teasers

Something sparked a memory today and made me remember this "Latin" joke. Made me smile.
If it doesn't make sense, or your "Latin" is rusty, try reading it out loud.

O sibili si ergo, fortibuses in ero.
O nobili demis trux: sewatis enim? Cowsendux.

And this other gem:

M R ducks.
M R not ducks.
O S A R. C M wangs? C M E D B D I's?
L I B, M R ducks.

For that last one, you could replace ducks with rats or whatever, and get the same joke. Sure, they're groaners, but that's why we like them.

Speaking of Latin, my favorite doggerel as a student:

Latin is a dead language
As dead as it can be;
First it killed the Romans,
And now it's killing me.

And the esoteric: Conjugate the verb to spit

spitto, spittere, ach tui, splattus!

Who Not What: Respecting Persons

As I was walking in DC today, I saw a group of people having an argument. Looking to avoid trouble, I steered wide of them; but I couldn't help overhearing this phrase: "Look, you got a man, right?"

Verbal phrases are a little bit like fingerprints in that they reveal a little of who you are. The person asking if the lady in question if she "had a man" betrays a selfishly possessive attitude that treats others like objects or trophies, something to "have" or "possess".

It makes me a little sad.

Therefore, we should be mindful how we talk to each other, about each other, and most importantly the attitudes we hold about each other.

There's a Who there, not a What. And as the Whos say: a person's a person, no matter how small.

Ablative Of Insert Blank

Latin is funny sometimes.

It has the distinct advantage of being a dead language (high school students take note -- no verbal requirements!). The age old schoolboy ditty runs: Latin is a dead language / as dead as it can be / First it killed the Romans / and now it's killing me!

Second year Latin is nothing more or less than reading Ceasar. Veni, vidi, vici, etc. Do you know what dear General Julius spent all his time actually doing? Killing people. It's a living, I guess. As a funny consequence, Latin has as many verbs for killing people in interesting and gruesome ways as the proverbial Inuits have words for snow.

Latin also requires that you conjugate verbs and decline nouns, which is a fancy way of saying your grammar has to match in case, number, and gender. After the obvious noun-verb-pronoun thing, Latin also sports the "everything else case" which is called ablative.

The Latin ablative case (ablativus) has at least fifteen documented uses; although some classicists^[who?] have stated that there are additional unique uses. Generalizing their function, however, ablatives modify or limit nouns by ideas of where (place), when (time), how (manner), etc. Hence, the case is sometimes also called the adverbial case; this can be quite literal, as phrases in the ablative can be translated as adverbs. E.g. magnā (cum) celeritāte, literally "with great speed", may also be translated "very quickly."

In practice it is used with prepositional phrases, but covers all other contingencies. These contingencies have some funny names like:

• Ablative of Place
• Ablative of Separation
• Ablative of Instrument
• Ablative of Manner
• Ablative of Time
• Ablative of Absolute
• Ablative of Attendant Circumstances
• Ablative of Accompaniment
• Ablative of Personal Agent

I was sure that my high school Latin teacher was making this stuff up. She was one of those crazy cat ladies, so we were convinced her grasp on reality was a bit slippery. It was memorable, however. So what do you get when you combine the bloodlust of Ceasar with the love of made up grammar rules? Ablatives of insert-blank: when in doubt, throw in an ablative of make-something-up and 5 out of 6 times you were right! Some of these ablatives she swore were true made me suspicious, however; see for yourself.

• Ablative of Disembowling (With a Rusty Implement)
  
• Ablative of Taking Someone's Head Off With A Pike
• Ablative of a Slow and Agonizing Death
• Ablative of 5-to-10 Years With Time Off For Good Behavior
• Ablative of Destruction
• Ablative of Being a Demi-god
• Ablative of the Stink of Blood
• Ablative of Taking Someone Else's Woman
• Ablative of Going To War
• Ablative of Possession Is Nine Tenths of the Law
  

So, hey, if you're ever stuck on what to do in life, remember this: implement your ablative.

Ethics And Reason Not Leaving Anytime Soon

(h/t chaospet via Language Log)

Just Saying

I found this discussion over at PainInTheEnglish.com about the phrase "Just saying."

This phrase has always annoyed me, because I have deduced that the speaker is almost always NOT "just saying", but really means it and is trying to get the hearer to not say anything critical in return.

This commenter sums up my feelings admirably:

cybermaniac | Dec-11-06 12:35PM

This is a phrase which has a two part effect: 1) to deflect what would be a strong disgust/disagreement with that person's argument and 2)inserting the mere placeholder of a possibility that the argument is valid (though hollow).

I really hate that term. It's really an attempt to make an end run an extremely weak argument to make the declarant's point good in the face of overwhelming impeaching evidence or argument. The person using this term doesn't have to or want to invest any amount critical thinking skills and logic to support their position.

I'd be dismissive of that type of person as being an academically dishonest cretin.

Just Saying.

Greek To Me, Heavenly Script To You

A most intriguing discussion over on Language Log regarding the non-comprehension of language.

“When an English speaker doesn’t understand a word of what someone says, he or she states that it’s ‘Greek to me’. When a Hebrew speaker encounters this difficulty, it ’sounds like Chinese’. I’ve been told the Korean equivalent is ’sounds like Hebrew’,” says Yuval Pinter.

Click for larger image.

The most famous utterance of "Greek to Me" comes from Shakespeare's The Tragedy of Julius Ceasar.

but those that understood him smiled at one another and
shook their heads; but, for mine own part, it was Greek to me

The topic and this (non-scholarly) graph have been covered in multiple places, but I find the language map fascinating in its own right. If the graph is to be believed, Chinese is the most incomprehensible (to others) language. They in turn point to "Heavenly Script" which one commenter describes thus:

The Chinese however, point to the ideographic origins of their own language. To me, this suggests a deeply internalised cultural understanding of the separation of their culture from the rest of the world.

Biblical sources point to the Tower of Babel as the source of language diversity. "This story, based on traditions about the temple towers or ziggurats of Babylonia, is used by the sacred writer primarily to illustrate man's increasing wickedness, shown here in his presumptuous effort to create an urban culture apart from God. The secondary motive in the story is to present an imaginative origin of the diversity of the languages among the various peoples inhabiting the earth, as well as an artificial explanation of the name "Babylon."" -- NAB commentary

"LORD came down to see the city and the tower that the men had built. Then the LORD said: "If now, while they are one people, all speaking the same language, they have started to do this, nothing will later stop them from doing whatever they presume to do. Let us then go down and there confuse their language, so that one will not understand what another says." Thus the LORD scattered them from there all over the earth, and they stopped building the city. Genesis 11:4

I once had an occasion to ask a Polish emigre about the subject of ethnic jokes. In this country the new immigrants are frequently the butt of jokes depicting them as stupid or socially awkward. If here we tell Polish jokes, who do Poles tell jokes about? Turns out to be Russian policemen, which makes sense given the post-WWII occupation of Poland by the USSR.

Speaking of which, here's a cartoon history of WWII from newly discovered blog, Strange Maps, entitled World War II: If Maps Could Fight. (h/t Joel at On the other Foot)

Grammar Me This

Every once in a while I think language is wacky. When I do, I want to share it with you. You may or may not care about this, but I feel better for having inflicted it on you.

First there was Eats, Shoots and Leaves.

The title of the book is an amphibology, a verbal fallacy arising from an ambiguous grammatical construction, and derived from a joke on bad punctuation:

A panda walks into a café. He orders a sandwich, eats it, then draws a gun and proceeds to fire it at the other patrons.

'Why?' asks the confused, surviving waiter amidst the carnage, as the panda makes towards the exit. The panda produces a badly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder.

'Well, I'm a panda', he says, at the door. 'Look it up.'

The waiter turns to the relevant entry in the manual and, sure enough, finds an explanation. 'Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves.'

Then there was Strong Bad Rhythm and Grammar. I agree that this is just inane, but it's also kind of funny. HomeStarRunner fans will be amused.

-"Your vs. You're"

"Y-O-U-R," "Y-O-U-apostrophe-R-E,"
They're as different as night and day.
Don't you think that night and day are different?
What's wrong with you?

-"And I Don't Care How You Spell Things on the Internet."

And I don't care how you spell things on the internet,
When you e-mail me, please spell the whole word out.
And I don't care that your cell phone has a camera in it.

Next, we have a full blown Grammar Noir. What's really funny about John McIntyre's serial in the Baltimore Sun is that the persons mentioned are all real people.

I stepped through the door as she switched on an overhead light.

There he was. A man of middle years, slumped over a desk. There was a flier for National Grammar Day on March 4 clutched in his fist.

I walked over and touched the cold dead flesh of his neck. No pulse, of course. There was a small bruise at his right temple.

I reached for his collar and pulled him upright in his chair. An Eberhard Faber Col-erase number 1277 pencil, carmine red, protruded from his chest, just over the heart.

“Did that kill him?” she asked. Her voice quavered.

“Sweetheart, that’s for the M.E. to say, but I’d bet a first-edition Fowler’s that that pencil has been recently sharpened.”

It's all part of that vast conspiracy called National Grammar Day, designated March 4th. Ok, so you missed it -- so did I. We can still enjoy it though, why not?

Your Name Is Mud

That's what my mother would tell me.

That is what amounted to a threat coming from her: "If you don't do X, then your name is going to be mud." The thing is, I believed her. (She always told me that I knew what side my bread was buttered on.)

Names are powerful things. We use them to uplift, we use them to tear down (sticks and stones). Most parents spend countless hours when deciding on names for their children. Does it sound right? What is the meaning? Do the initials spell something obscene? Is it a family name? Does it reflect our values or religion? And so on ... as well it should.

The story of the Tower of Babel is based in part on the monstrous pride of the people who were trying to make a name for themselves instead of submitting to the Lord. Then they said,

"Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the sky, and so make a name for ourselves; otherwise we shall be scattered all over the earth." Genesis 11:4

Each of my children has a first, middle, and last name. I use them quite liberally, most of the time using the first alone, sometimes I use the first and middle together, or even the dreaded triple name utterance. (That's how we knew we were in trouble as kids, when our parents used our full names.)

Occasionally, I'll use first initial and middle name to get their attention; and for the girls, I will even use only their middle name (again to get their attention). With 5 Nod-lings, there are a lot of names flying about the house.

Imagine my surprise, then, when Nod-girl told me this today:

"At school, I didn't remember my middle name so my friend made one up for me."

I stared. I gaped. My mouth formed shapes, but no sound came out.

It's All Jake With Me

I've traveled around a bit, and one hobby of mine is to collect phrases: colloquialisms, aphorisms, even slang. The trouble is: sometimes I can't remember where I got things.

Take this one: Jake; as in "It's all Jake with me."

In this case Jake means OK, fine, all right, just right, satisfactory, or even great. I used that once a couple of years ago and just got a look that said "What the heck are you talking about?". Well, I knew what I meant, but not why. Where had I heard that? Obviously I liked the phrase since I remembered it, but who said it first?

This particular incarnation is apparently part of the 1920's Jazz-era slang that was favored by flappers. Many such phrases have survived into modern usage including Big Cheese, baloney!, bee's knees, hair of the dog, speakeasy and others. The origin of Jake in this usage has been traced to 1920's flapper slang, but nobody seems to know why they chose to use it in this way.

The ironic thing is that the term jake has been used through the years to mean a wide variety of different things, including: OK, great, terrible, a policeman, a Jamaican ginger drink, a rube or uncouth person, lazy, a brake, and a toilet.

It's a great term, it's got a short, catchy sound to it. Small wonder it's been so popular.

So, I found out where my mystery phrase came from, but not why.

(Shrug) That's Jake with me.

Mischmasch and Snarge

Mischmasch: n. a hodge-podge; a mixture of dissimilar ingredients; a jumble.


Everyone has probably heard the latest on the Vatican embracing technology and that it now has its own YouTube channel. The channel has been live for about 5 days now and it already has about 20 videos. All of them are very short (maybe due to our attention spans?), ranging from 30 seconds to 2.5 minutes.

The always interesting Language Log has an entry on this interesting new(?) word: snarge. (I can't find a pronounciation guide -- is it hard "g" or soft "g"? It looks like it ought to be soft, but I would prefer the hard "g".)

Apparently it means "the residue of birds that have struck an airplane" as used by the people at the National Museum of Natural History. This, of course, was inspired by the amazing story of the pilot who successfully crash landed his plane on the Hudson with all 150 people aboard surviving.

Another use of the word snarge appeared in the 1925 book Soldier and Sailor Words and Phrases meaning "any ugly or unpleasant person", which could be applied to the attitude displayed by Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, who defends contraceptives being added to the economic stimulus bill. She was interviewed by George Stephanopoulos as saying, "contraception, will reduce costs to the states and to the federal government." And that from a "devout practicing Catholic". Ha!

On the other extreme, the LeFebrite SPX bishops narrowly avoided excommunication when Pope Benedict XVI lifted the ban in favor of dialog with the schismatic traditionalist group in the hopes of affecting a reconciliation. Remember guys: excommunication is not a punishment but a remedy for the wayward soul.

And finally, the FDA approved human embryonic stem cell trials on humans to see whether the cells are safe to use in spinal injury patients. "But it will happen soon, and it would have happened sooner if it weren't for the ridiculous Bush policies", said a ridiculous Dr. Okarma who stands to make a lot of money from the associated patents.

Let's see: human embryonic (baby humans) ... trials on humans. Hello! It's Soylent Green!

Riddle Me This

Wynken brought up a riddle at dinnertime that he actually didn't know the answer to.

I have to admit, it had me stumped for a good ten minutes or more before I got the old brain-box in gear. Part of that time was spent in making sure he was telling the riddle correctly, so that it could be solved.

In true Encyclopedia Brown style, I managed to solve it before the end of dinner with the help of a few Cheerios.

See if you can solve this riddle (it may be easier to see it than hear it like I did ... then again, maybe hearing it is better):

The one before first is first of you;
the next of you is double of you;
the last of you is the first of you.

Guess away!

Insert Blank

It's time for everybody's favorite diversion: Insert _____! (blank)

Where we take the potty-mouth expressions we "used" to say, and baptize them into something a bit more acceptable.

That way, people won't look at us askance who know we're Catholic and supposed to be acting like it.

Today's expression is: "Oh _____!"


Oh my goodness!
Oh my stars and garters! (the Beast from X-Men comic fame)
Oh nuts!
Oh no!

It's just for fun, try it!

Variations on a Theme

I gave up swearing shortly after college, but it can be a challenge sometimes to come up with an "appropriate expression" that used to be filled with a four-letter variety.

But since practice makes perfect, and since I like language anyway, I'm gonna ask you to "fill in the blank" with a new-and-improved expression.

This week's expression is: "Holy _____!"

Holy Joseph! (the one I've retrained myself to say)

Holy Moses!

Holy frijoles!

Holy cow!

Holy rusted metal, Batman!

C'mon, give me some more ... !

Weird words

English has its share of weird words, borrowed words, rules, counter-rules, exceptions to rules, and outright fakery.

For example: disgruntled. (meaning unhappy or sulkily discontented).  What then does "gruntled" mean? Happy and contented? No. It means "to complain".
Following suit we get this:

gruntled: contended?
irregardless: to regard?
antidisestablishmentarianism: for the establishment? (I just threw that in because I like it).
Floccinaucinihilipilification: not much ;-)
moot: relevant? not relevant?

Cherubs, Griffins, and Grimm Shifts

Because I think language is cool.

From JEK at http://elvis.rowan.edu/~kilroy/jek/09/29.html

Now the Hebrew word "cherub" has the root Kh-R-B, and the Greek word "gryph" has the root G-R-Ph. We see that the G and Kh are both back mutes or palatals, the R is the same in both words, and the B and Ph are both front mutes or labials. Hence a Gryphon, such as you see in Alice In Wonderland and elsewhere has a history connecting both the form of the creature and its name with the Semitic Cherub.

Name your own city

If you could name a city or place absolutely anything you wanted, what would you call it?

I like language and I sometimes think about how place names come about. I'm often surprised at the complete lack of originality that denizens of a particular place demonstrate in naming their town, city, whatever.

The #1 choice in the too-dumb-to-think-up-a-name category is: the exact same name as some old city. Examples: Rome, NY; Moscow, IN; Berlin, VA; Vienna, VA

The next most obvious choice is to stick the word "New" in front of some old beloved city. Gag. How boring: New York, New Jersey, New Mexico, etc.

Equally obvious is to stick: town, ton, burgh, city, ville, land, or polis on the end of some Noun.

Slightly more creative and a little more natural is, well, nature landmarks as a suffix:

• ford
• fort
• field
• plains
• view
• burgh
• side
• grove
• wood
• way

And then the ever-popular adjective-noun place names:

• Little/Big
• White/Black/Red/Color

Failing that, places seem to get named for its founder or famous person: (Lord) Fairfax, (John Foster) Dulles, San Francisco (Saint Francis).


So I went on a hunt for place names because I was curious. Some interesting hits turned up for place name etymology: German, Latin, Slavic, Greek, Celtic, city residents,

German names from prehistoric and medieval times:

1. with the suffix -au, -aue (related to rivers or water), see German words Au or Aue. This meaning of -au (earlier spelling ow, owe, ouwe) describes settlements at rivers, creeks. Example: Passau, a town Aue, rivers named Aue.
2. with Low German suffix -oog (= "island"). Example: Dutch Schiermonnikoog.
3. with the suffix -um (North Germany), -heim (South and Central Germany, Switzerland, Alsace), -ham / -am (Bavaria and Austria), -hem / -em (West) (all cognate to English home and the English place name suffix -ham). Examples: Alkersum, Bochum, Borkum, Pforzheim, Kirchham, Schiltigheim
4. with the suffix -ing or -ingen, -ungen, -ung, -ens (meaning "descendants of", used with a personal name as the first part). Examples: Göttingen, Straubing, Esens.
5. with the suffix -stadt or -stedt ("town"). Examples: Darmstadt, Neustadt.
6. with the suffix -burg ("keep", borough). Examples: Hamburg, Luxembourg, Regensburg (with the river Regen), Salzburg (with the Ancient Roman reference to salt), Straßburg (Strasbourg).
7. with the suffix -berg ("mountain"). Examples: Heidelberg, Nürnberg (Nuremberg), Königsberg ("king's mountain", now Kaliningrad)
8. with the suffix -dorf or -torf ("village"). Example: Düsseldorf.
9. with the suffix -furt ("ford"). Examples: Erfurt, Frankfurt.
10. with the suffix -brücken or -brück ("bridge"). Examples: Saarbrücken, Osnabrück, Innsbruck.
11. with the suffix -hausen ("house"). Examples: Mülhausen (Mulhouse), Mühlhausen, Schaffhausen.
12. with the suffix -feld ("field"). Examples: Bielefeld, Mansfeld.
13. with the suffix -werth, -wörth, or -ort ("holm"). Example: Kaiserswerth, Donauwörth, Ruhrort
14. with the suffix -roth or -rath, -rode, -reuth, -rade ("clearing"). Example: Roth, Wernigerode, Overath. It can also be used as the prefix -Rade: Radebeul, Radevormwald.

German names from modern times. They usually follow the established patterns.

• Wuppertal ("Wupper valley"), Karl-Marx-Stadt ("Karl Marx city", name for Chemnitz during the DDR era), Wilhelmshaven ("William's harbour", referring to King William I of Prussia).

I guess what is obvious is that a name is supposed to mean something; who cares about a city called Kadfalas unless it signifies something to someone?

Maybe I'll call my house something like manor estates do. Problem is, I can't think of anything ... We jokingly refer to Mom's as Home Base, mine as Outpost 1, and my brother's as Outpost 2.