Portmanteau

If you were like me and read Lewis Carroll’s Through The Looking Glass as a child, you learned at least two new words: “slithy” and “mimsy.” “Slithy” means lithe and slimy, we’re told, and “mimsy” means flimsy and miserable. Come to think of it, when Humpty Dumpty was talking about “slithy” and “mimsy,” I was introduced to a third new word: Portmanteau. “You see,” says Humpty Dumpty, “it’s like a portmanteau–there are two words packed into one.”

I used to dislike portmanteau words, to be honest. I don’t know why; maybe I was just a stubborn, autistic kid who had an inflexible sense of language. So, I wasn’t quick to pick up on the term “brunch” (breakfast and lunch); I’d just as soon say “late breakfast” or “early lunch.”

And I never did like the “animatronic” dogs that performed at an amusement park that I went to as a child, but I have to admit that it’s easier to say “animatronic” than to speak of animated, electronic dogs; and, growing up a wrestling fan, “The Bionic Redneck” is probably a better nickname for Steve Austin than “The Biological, Electronic Redneck.”

When I discovered the word “ebonics” (ebony and phonics), I thought that was quite clever, though I could do without “Labradoodles” (Labrador poodles, are you kidding me?).

Who remembers when, in place of “emojis,” we had “emoticons” (emotion and icons)?

While “GABA” probably isn’t technically portmanteau, I much prefer it to “gamma-aminobutyric acid.” Which brings me to why I brought this up in the first place: Science terms!

I actually have a funny little story related to this. Shall I? I was in a psychiatric hospital (imagine that), and part of the daily routine was exercise therapy. The exercise “therapist” (I somehow question her credentials) said in her Southern drawl, “Why do we do these exercises? Because they increase our levels of endorphins.”

I said, “Why can’t you just give us synthetic morphine instead?”

“Because morphine isn’t good for you!”

I joked, “So why do we want to increase our levels of ‘endogenous morphine’?” I don’t remember exactly what the exercise “therapist” said in response, but it was clear that she didn’t understand where “endorphin” came from (endogenous morphine).

There are, I’m sure, a great many more examples of portmanteau in science, but I will close with perhaps my favorite of all. The reason why it’s my favorite is because it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, yet it kind of does. The word is “positron” (a positively-charged electron). When I was a young one, I was taught that electrons were negatively charged, so how could there be a positively-charged electron? Well, if you understand the Dirac equation, then it’s pretty clear. If not, you may just have to accept the explanation that all particles have anti-particles, so for a regular, negatively-charged electron, there must be an anti-particle that has the sign for charge flip, hence the “positron.”

From Humpty Dumpty to Paul Dirac, portmanteau certainly is “fantabulous” (fantastic and fabulous).