Correct me if I’m wrong, but during the previous snicker-fests we’ve had here over the phrase, I was under the distinct impression that in British slang, “ring” means the - ahem - nethermost aperture.
In that case, “currying favor” still applies, although we Yanks take a much less anatomically precise aim. Squeamishness, perhaps.
In reference to currying favor, a Yank could certainly speak of “kissing someone’s ring”; the meaning would be clear, but the metaphor would be understood in terms of jewelry only, and never carry the sphincterological subtext it does in the UK. We just don’t use the word that way. Should I say to fellow Yanks that I had to get my ring repaired, and should there happen to be an Anglophile among them, it would be boneheaded of him to make jokes about it, because then of course he would have go to the trouble of explaining his bon mot to those unacquainted with British parlance, which is going to be most of us. Sort of defeats the purpose of trying to be witty when you make people’s eyes glaze over.
Had to look that up. That’s “bullseye” to you non-dart-playing Yanks out there.
But what on Middle Earth was Tolkien thinking when he titled his famous trilogy? Surely he must have known that his countrymen would roll on the floor laughing at its mere mention.
For me the word ‘ring’ in most contexts is smut-neutral. The only reason I picked up on this headline was its similarity to the phrase ‘kissing his ring’, which for me is smut-positive.
I never thought of Tolkien’s theme as smut-positive, and I will now try to forget that suggestion.
Or it’s like the difference between coriander and coriander.
For me, the plural is immaterial; it just indicates that the Lord of the Rings rules them all, if you will. Sorry to be getting gnarly, but you see the possibilities.
Oh, have I created a monster? You’re welcome.
Honestly, though, I would think that of all demographics that ought to have gone there first, it should have been yours, not mine, wherein “ring” conventionally lacks any scatological meaning whatsoever. Frankly, I’m surprised. Call it a fresh perspective if you like, but you have to admit the working material’s been there for you all along. Me, I’m just an outsider who happened to walk by.
This might be a perfect illustration of the Japanese adage, “Living at the base of a lighthouse” (tōdai moto kurashi); as the base is the darkest, so it is that it’s hard to see what’s closest to home.
Here’s how I see it: When you give a word multiple meanings, all those meanings are available at once, to greater and lesser degrees of success. IOW, even though context determines conventional meaning, convention does not make meaning 100% ironclad (and my perspective should be proof enough of that). Of course this potential for ambiguity is one of the bases on which we build jokes.
Yes, I still don’t get what possible confusion there could be there.
It doesn’t work like that for me. I don’t think it works like that at all over here. There has to be a real contextual ambiguity - otherwise, it just feels forced, to us. So, the Pope objecting to someone “kissing his ring” has the contextual ambiguity built in, in the whole phrase; whereas “Lord of the Rings” can only have one meaning. It makes no difference that the singular of one of those words, in a completely different context, has a different meaning. It’s too much of a stretch.
I do have another example, from Oklahoma, no less, that has always amused me, at least. Gertie has just got engaged, and excitedly says to her pals, “Have you seen my ring, girls?”
But the ambiguity wouldn’t be there if you didn’t assign such a meaning to the word in the first place, you see. For me, once a meaning is assigned, it is not necessarily bound by convention. Poets understand this.
But here there was no aforementioned kissing. So how does this differ substantially from from me getting a laugh out of turning The Lord of the Rings on its head? I see the ambiguity built in no matter where you look. Your slang usage is one that begs to be played with, so if we’re to speak of forced, it strikes me as far more of a stretch that Gertie would offer a look at her main exit, and less so that the “Lord of the Rings” - whoever that might be - would have a stable of 'em at his disposal, let us characterize it. There are websites and movies in that vein, you know (or so one hears ). In fact, if some British S&M entrepreneur hasn’t yet appropriated the book title tongue-in-cheek for one of those, I think it’s a missed opportunity!
That’s how it feels for me as well, or even more so, as a non-native English speaker. It’ll just be like Beavis and Butthead otherwise (“hehe he said <insert anything>”)
Sorry, Tor; since you quote both Ben and me, I’m not sure which way you mean, nor does the reference to Beavis and Butthead help, as your tastes in the matter are not really made clear. But I’ll go out on a limb and guess you were siding with Ben…
FWIW, I was never a fan of the Beavis and Butthead schtick. For me there’s a difference between indulging in low wit and the callow habit of seeking out the smut in anything, as in the case of Messrs. B & B. But Ben is amused by Gertie’s ring, whereas the joke falls flat for me; I don’t know whether this is cultural or personal. I need other contexts for it to work to my satisfaction, and LotR does it nicely, precisely because violating such a beloved institution is so awful.
It has always been a puzzle to me how so many people - especially, it seems, on the left side of the Atlantic - assume that The Lord of the Rings is somehow Celtic, or related to Celtic myth. Tolkien was positively anti-Celtic. He expressed a “certain distaste” for Celtic myth because of its “unreason”. Look up Wikipedia, and you’ll find that there are some Celtic influences, particularly with the elves, but a lot of it is Germanic or Norse in origin. Similarly, it really grates when people confuse runes with Celtic stuff. Just sayin’ …
I thought so too, but then I remembered that “their” is an acceptable pronoun when we don’t know if the glutton is a he or a she. I know, it’s weird, but if it’s good enough Shakespeare, I grudgingly guess it’s good enough for me. Then again, he did write “more better”, so …
What intrigues me is how would-be experts must taste.
I’ll bet the grammar police lost no time knocking on the writer’s door for this one. “Loathe” (rhyming with “clothe”) is a verb: “I loathe being a wet blanket.” Instead, the writer should have used the E-less “loath/loth” (rhyming with “both”), which is the adjective. While “loathe” is still common in its proper use, “loath/loth” has become quite dated [Edit: in the States] and may thus be counted among literary pretensions (yes, mea maxima culpa), so it is best doled out sparingly. It’s easy to mistake their differences if you haven’t been paying attention; I’ve seen “loath” incorrectly used as a verb, too.
If that weren’t bad enough, the article was titled, “Stop Trying to Make [politician] Happen”. Ontologists take note.
I saw this one a few weeks ago on the Washington Post website. I assumed they’d clean it up, but they haven’t:
Former Australian foreign minister claims Melania Trump assumed she was minister’s partner during encounter
I was wondering, Did Melania think she was the minister’s date? Partner for a dance? No, Mrs. Trump thought the Australian Foreign Minister, a woman, was not the minister, but the minister’s partner.
). In fact, if some British S&M entrepreneur hasn’t yet appropriated the book title tongue-in-cheek for one of those, I think it’s a missed opportunity!
