Everyday expressions

Where does the phrase “close, but no cigar” come from? 8 idioms' origins

Image: Pisit Heng

Idioms are a rare breed, aren’t they? They confuse non-native speakers to no end, as they can’t simply be deduced from the meaning of individual words. After all, who in their right mind would accuse someone of stealing their intangible thunder? Or complain about having to burn lamp oil at midnight?

English speakers use these idioms all the time but rarely stop to figure out where they come from. If you were ever curious about how spilling beans might connect to confessing a secret, then this article is exactly what you need.

Image: Michał Mancewicz

The very literal origin of this idiom comes from the play "Appius and Virginia," written by English dramatist John Dennis in the early 1700s. For the production of his play, Dennis created a new method to imitate the sound of thunder. Sadly, "Appius and Virginia" had disappointing attendance and was canceled shortly after. However, Dennis soon after discovered that a production of Macbeth was using his thunder device, to critical acclaim. According to literary scholar Joseph Spence, Dennis angrily exclaimed, "Damn them! They will not let my play run, but they steal my thunder."

Image: Yohan Cho

This idiom has a surprising lighthearted aspect to it. While its meaning entails soul-crushing defeat, one can’t help but also imagine a Groucho Marx-looking character chewing on a big cigar. And this lightheartedness might not be completely accidental: After all, this idiom comes from the cheerful world of carnival games.

In the late 19th century, carnival games were targeted for adults, not children. Therefore, instead of handing out oversized stuffed animals of undefined species, winners might receive objects like cigars as prizes. The idiom "close but no cigar" was born from those players that almost won, but didn’t earn a prize.

Image: Tyler Hilton

The most widely accepted use of this idiom comes from America’s very own national pastime: baseball. In 1916, the New York Giants (now known as the San Francisco Giants) had an incredible winning streak of 26 consecutive games. The Giants believed that, if they were in the lead during the last inning of a game, moving a bag filled with extra baseballs off the field would secure their victory. They had "captured" the game in the bag. This team’s superstition has now evolved into an everyday idiom that means secured and complete success.

Image: Milada Vigerova

Picture this: You are at work, hanging by the water cooler, and you are trying to get your favorite coworker to reveal a piece of office gossip that promises to be huge. We have all been there, but did you know that by asking your coworker to "spill the beans", you might be referencing one of the very first instances of democracy?

The origins of this idiom are still debated, but the consensus is that it most likely comes from a voting system from Ancient Greece. This process involved placing colored beans in a vase (white for yes, black for no). Tallying up the votes would then literally require someone to spill the vase and count each bean that was cast.

Image: Ritabrata Das

Almost every student can attest to spending many sleepless nights burning the midnight oil in front of a seemingly endless pile of textbooks. While the origin of this idiom comes from oil lamps used in the 17th century, students all across the world still refer to this expression when talking about working late into the night.

The first known use of "burning the midnight oil" comes from a book written by English poet Francis Quarles in 1635. More recently, in 1972, country music legends Dolly Parton and Porter Wagoner recorded a collaborative studio album titled The Right Combination • Burning the Midnight Oil.

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While turning a blind eye might make us think about that lenient schoolteacher who occasionally gave us a pass on our missing homework, the most commonly accepted origin of this idiom comes from the nautical world. Specifically, from the iconic 18th century British Admiral Horatio Nelson.

In 1801, Nelson led the British attack alongside fellow Admiral Sir Hyde Parker in the Battle of Copenhagen. Nelson, who was blind in one eye, received a flag message from Parker that urged him to retreat. However, Nelson believed that the British fleet should continue to push forward, so he held his telescope to his blind eye and pretended he hadn’t seen Parker’s message.

Image: Raimond Klavins

Weirdly enough, another unexpected nautical term has found its way into this list! While nowadays feeling "under the weather" means feeling ill, the origin of this idiom dates back to slang used by sailors as far back as the 19th century.

The term "under the weather bow" was used to refer to the side of the ship that was exposed the most during storms. Sailors would seek shelter in their cabins to avoid getting seasick, literally going under the ship’s deck to escape the weather. The first literary use of this term was by American author Donald Grant Mitchell in his 1855 book Fudge Doings. In the book, a character describes a nasty experience in a steamer as feeling "a little under the weather."

Image: Carlos Felipe Ramírez Mesa

Throughout the years, countless parents have repeated the same question to their misbehaving children at the dinner table: "Were you raised by wolves?" And, while the current intention of these parents is to highlight bad manners and improper etiquette, it might hurt their case to learn that several outstanding characters from myths and literature were, in fact, raised by wolves.

Perhaps the first and most famous story of children raised by wolves is that of the founders of Ancient Rome, Romulus, and Remus. In the myth, the brothers are abandoned on the bank of a river, where they are found and nurtured by a she-wolf, before being eventually adopted by a shepherd. Furthermore, the protagonist of Rudyard Kipling’s 1894 novel The Jungle Book is a boy named Mowgli who is raised in the jungle by wolves.

BELIEVE IT OR NOT

Stranger Than Fiction: 10 Unbelievable Events That Actually Happened

Image: Diana van Ormondt

They say truth is stranger than fiction, and some of these historical events are living proof of this old adage.

Brace yourself for a rollercoaster ride through history, where the strange and unexpected take center stage in the theater of reality. From absurd battles to mysterious weather phenomena, these 10 astonishing tales will leave you thinking long and hard about the complexities of human history.

Image: Sharon Co Images

Wars are typically waged between nations, but in 1932, Australia faced an unusual adversary: emus. After large numbers of these flightless birds invaded crucial farmland within Western Australia’s Wheatbelt, the government decided to intervene by sending soldiers armed with machine guns to reduce the emu population in the area. However, most attempts were ineffective at most, killing very few birds and costing thousands of dollars in supplies and ammunition.

As soon as the first shot was fired, the seemingly tame emu dispersed way beyond the range of the machine guns, and apparently switched to guerrilla tactics of sorts, avoiding all further military ambushes and frontal attacks while still feasting on the farmer’s crops. The government’s futile attempts were ridiculed and physical barrier methods to manage wildlife were preferred from then on. Sadly, they give no medals for having endured the Great Emu War.

Image: Hannah Skelly

In 1518, the town of Strasbourg, France, was gripped by a strange and inexplicable phenomenon - people suddenly began dancing uncontrollably in the streets. The dancing madness persisted for weeks, with some of the affected succumbing to exhaustion or even death. The authorities at the time did not know how to react, and some people even joined the dancers voluntarily, as they feared it was a punishment from Saint Vitus (and presumably wanted to stay on the safe side).

After many efforts to fight the strange epidemic, the dancing eventually subsided and people in the town could resume their normal lives. While theories range from mass hysteria to hallucinogenic substances and neurological disorders like Sydenham's chorea, the event remains a historical enigma that challenges our understanding of the human mind and collective behavior.

Image: Nima Sarram

In 1908, a massive explosion flattened over 80 million trees in the remote Tunguska region of Siberia. The cause? A mysterious airburst, likely caused by the explosion of a meteoroid or comet in Earth's atmosphere. It is now estimated that the event had an explosive energy of 3 to 5 megatons, equivalent to over a thousand Hiroshima bombs. The resulting shockwave broke windows, and knocked people down hundreds of miles away, reaching an equivalent of an earthquake of 5.0 on the Richter scale in some areas.

A bright glow was observed in night skies in Asia and Europe for days after the event due to high-altitude ice particles that formed as a result of the explosion. For all its magnitude, the explosion left no visible crater and minimal debris beside the devastated forest. The Tunguska Event serves as a stark reminder of the potential cosmic threats that lurk in the darkness of space.

Image: British Library

Miscommunication can often lead to chaos, but rarely on the scale witnessed in the Battle of Karánsebes in 1788. The Austrian army, at the time facing the Ottoman Empire, descended into total anarchy when two different scouting parties mistook one another for the enemy, fired on each other, and raised the alarm.

Making matters worse, the Austrian army was made of men of different nationalities who more often than not could not understand each other. All attempts to end confusion and the ensuing friendly fire on the part of the Austrian emperor himself were in vain, and after a while - deeply demoralized - he was forced to give the order of retreat. When the Ottoman army arrived two days later, they found an empty battlefield and were able to take the city of Karánsebes without any resistance.

Image: Aswathy N

In 1807, eight years before Waterloo, Napoleon Bonaparte had a humiliating defeat at the hands of a strange opponent - a horde of rabbits. During the celebrations that followed the Treaties of Tilsit - which effectively ended the war between the French and Imperial Russia - Napoleon’s chief of staff Alexandre Berthier had the idea of organizing a rabbit hunt to entertain its guests.

So far, nothing out of the ordinary for the time, but when the rabbits were simultaneously freed along the edges of a grassy field, instead of scattering as expected, all these fluffy beasts began running toward their amused hunters. But the fits of laughter didn’t last long, as the now-hunted hunters realized that there was nothing they could do to stop the relentless animals as they swarmed their positions and had no other choice than to flee. Some accounts state that Berthier had gathered around 3000 rabbits, so not even mighty Napoleon was a match for this unexpected army.

Apparently, the chief of staff's mistake was buying tame rabbits from local farmers, accustomed to being fed by humans, instead of trapping wild hares for the hunt. If we learned anything from the Great Emu War, the lesson is clear: never underestimate animals!

Image: Mitsuo Komoriya

In the aftermath of the eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia - the largest in at least 1,300 years - 1816 became known as the "Year Without a Summer." The volcanic ash floating in the atmosphere led to climate abnormalities worldwide, resulting in crop failures and widespread famine in the most affected areas.

In Europe and North America temperatures plummeted, and most crops suffered irreparable damage due to the persistent frost. In the United States, a "dry fog" was observed in the eastern regions, dimming sunlight so much that sunspots were visible to the naked eye. Also, the high level of volcanic particles present in the atmosphere caused strange optical effects in the following years, such as strong red hues during sunsets, which can be observed in many paintings produced at the time.

Image: Tiana Attride

It seems that wars against unusual adversaries are a fashionable trend in human history because the Roman Emperor Caligula declared war in the year 40 AD on no one other than the god Neptune himself, king of the raging seas.

Known for his eccentricity, Caligula allegedly ordered his legionnaires to "attack" the sea with swords and spears, after which he declared victory against the powerful god and told the men to gather seashells as trophies of war. One can only imagine that the soldiers had a fun -albeit puzzling- day.

Image: Tim Mossholder

In the late 1980s, Pepsi briefly possessed the sixth-largest navy in the world. In exchange for commercializing Pepsi products in the Soviet Union, the company received 17 submarines, a cruiser, a frigate, and a destroyer.

However, the fleet was composed of obsolete and unseaworthy vessels that were destined to be turned into scrap almost immediately. The payment was made in the only resources the USSR could gather easily at the time, and it provided a way to establish profitable international relations - and open up to the world.

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The American Civil War started and concluded with a curious connection to Wilmer McLean, an American wholesale grocer from Virginia. The conflict's first major battle, the First Battle of Bull Run, took place in McLean's farm in 1861. A cannonball fell directly through the kitchen fireplace of the McLean’s house, which was being used as headquarters for the Confederate Army, destroying the dinner that was being prepared by the stationed officers - something that was noted not without humor by the Brigadier General P. G. T. Beauregard.

The McLean family moved to Appomattox, Virginia trying to escape the war, but just four years later, General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant in McLean's parlor, marking the conclusion of the Civil War. Unintentionally, McLean was a prime witness of one of America’s most defining conflicts. Later, he said of this: "The war began in my front yard and ended in my front parlor."

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Genghis Khan's vast empire and brutal military campaigns had an unexpected impact on the Earth's climate. A recent study suggests that the Mongol invasions in the 13th century led to a significant reduction in global carbon dioxide levels, as large areas of cultivated land returned to forests.

This had the unintentional effect of scrubbing as much as 700 million tonnes of carbon from the atmosphere, roughly equivalent to the global annual consumption of gasoline today. This drastic ecological shift highlights the effect that land use, and particularly deforestation can have on our planet at a large scale.