Those of us who love language might enjoy this column of unverified interesting language tidbits.
(If nothing else, you may learn why Sherlock is derived from Charles and more than you wanted about chrysanthemums.)
Also, what is the most concise English equivalent of the German doch?
So why is it “mice”, but “houses” (“hice” would be whack, but perhaps “house” for the plural)?
though? Not in response to a negative question, though
Note that the plural of house is generally pronounced houzes, which is irregular, about like hoof/hooves. But in my Philly dialect it is simply houses.
A Panda describes German doch as:
…it is a word to decline having not done/said something and also shut up about it now, end of discussion. “But you didn’t Tell me we leave at 7!” “Doch!”
I don’t know if this is so. Also, the plural of moose is moose by mutual agreement, in order to get all the moose to cross a busy road at the same place near the moose crossing sign.
Spokesman: So it’s agreed. You all cross the road at the sign and we’ll slow down.
Moose: That might be miles out of our way. Just to cross a highway. That’s not enough! You gotta throw in something else!
Spokesman: Okay. We can make your plural “moose”. Just like the singular. Right now, only sheep, cattle and some types of fish have that.
Moose: That’s pretty cool. Okay. But you also have to give that to our friends, the antelope.
I highly recommend the podcast “Lexicon Valley,” hosted for the past several years by linguist John McWhorter (via Booksmart Studios for the last couple of years; before that, via Slate).
His books are great fun, too — start with “Power of Babel.”
The gender references at the end of sentences in Thai reflect the gender of who is speaking.
Thus the generic greeting , “Sawadee” becomes Sawadee KAH" when spoken by a woman and “Sawadee KOP” when spoken by a male. According to my Thai wife the more formal the occasion, the more Kahs and Kops you add on. If you listen to a Thai addressing a group in public it is one Kop after another.
Isn’t Thai also the language that has different words for “aunt/uncle” based on the gender of the older of the two siblings? I.e., you’d use the same word for “Mother’s younger brother” and “mother’s younger sister”, and the same word for “Mother’s older brother” and “father’s older brother”, but different words for “Mother’s older brother” and “Mother’s older sister”.
In the comments they state correctly that is absolutely not true.
I’m not Scottish but English, but I’ve never heard “Cherlie” being used by Scots, only Charlie (e.g. Bonny Prince Charlie). The only reference to Cherlie I can find on line is the original tweet of this “fact”. Teàrlach, however, apparently is a shortened form of Toirdhealbhach and sometimes Anglicised as Charlie (not Cherlie), but is not etymologically related. Cannot find any reference to Sherlock, except that it derives from “scir-lock”, meaning bright-haired.
It depends on context, i.e. the phrase you are replying to, but it is usually along the lines “(but) yes, I can!”, “(but) yes, I do!”, “(But) yes, it is!”… like this:
You can’t do that! - Doch! → Yes, I can!
You don’t believe that BS! - Doch! → Yes, I do!
That can’t be true! - Doch! → Yes, it is!
and so on… It is the very spirit of contradiction. That sketch translates full of doch! into German.
Now translate “Nicht doch!” and explain in which context it can be said 
BTW, French translates doch simply as si, or mais si (which is not the same as oui or mais oui, and is not Spanish either, although it looks like it was). But nicht doch! does not translate as non si nor pas si, as far as I know.
Oh, and it just ocurred to me that you can sometimes (often? - depends on context) translate doch! with indeed!, in so far as it is a positive or affirmative word that is used to deny something. Like in “Indeed I can! Who’s going to stop me?” Or just, as concise as can be: “indeed!”
I think it’s fair to say the etymology is muddy. The fact someone has not heard something says nothing about how people talked 125 years ago. I have seen it proposed there were a series of names involving hair colour. Others say it was a type of hairstyle or a simplification of other words or names. I haven’t seen an explanation a majority sees as definitive. But this lack of verification and loose anecdote is the reason quotes were used in the thread title.
It seems a useful interjection. I read today about schadenfreude and freudenfreude. The former is said to have no English equivalent, but some say it does: epicaricacy. But I’ve never heard anyone use that word, which seems both contrived and less fun to say. Allegedly, it is from the 1850s, and fell out of popularity in North America until a 1991 Simpson’s episode, where Lisa roughly defined it as “sour grapes”.
I’m German and have never encountered that word written or spoken. Of course by the way German compound words work I understand its meaning, but that’s definitely not the word for the opposite of schadenfreude.
Freudenfreude may have been coined, and was certainly discussed as a subset of empathy, by the psychologist Catherine Chambliss. She also coined two other terms describing behaviours increasing freudenfreude:
Shoy: sharing the joy of a success story by showing interest and asking follow-up questions, and
Bragitude: tying words of gratitude to the listener when discussing a personal success
Never heard anyone use any of these terms.
Of course “schadenfreude” has an English equivalent. It’s “schadenfreude”.
Only three English words retain the “en” Germanic ending to signify a plural. Children, oxen, brethren.
“Shoen” is archaic, but still shows up in some songs. And I’ve heard multiple DEC supercomputers referred to as “Vaxen”, and the facetious use of “sistren”.
What’s more interesting about “children” is that it’s doubly plural: The r is also a relic of an older plural form. And in some dialects, it’s starting to be triple-pluralized as “childrens”.
And by further extension, boxen for any computer type.
I didn’t mean to imply that I’m going entirely by a comment. When I searched to check on that claim, I found nothing at all to back it up and everything to suggest, as said, that Sherlock is descended from fair-haired, scir meaning bright. Some people claim that it came from sheared locks, or close-cut hair, but no authorities seem to agree, and that sounds more like folk etymology.
Not surprisingly, the name Sherlock has been incessantly researched by fanatic devotees for more than a century. I have shelves of Sherlockania, so that “fact” stood out for me immediately.