I’d say that “Raise” and “Raze” are, if their spelling doesn’t disqualify them. I’d say “cleave” is as well. The others aren’t quite the same meaning even if you limit them to the relevant sub-definition.
Most of the other examples often given involve the meanings of “add X to” and “remove X from”, which it seems to me violates the spirit of things, although I suppose that class in general could be counted as one auto-antonym.
If you are interested in other languages, in Italian “ospite” means both host and guest; and “tirare” means both to throw and to pull.
Aloha
Ciao
I didn’t even know there was a specific word for something that can be its own antonym until just now.
The one that always stuck out to me was the word ‘either’, for example:
[ul]
[li]There are two ways into town, you can take either (meaning one or the other, XOR)[/li][li]There are shoulders on either side of the road (meaning both, AND)[/li][/ul]
It always seemed weird somehow.
Slightly off-topic, but I remember once where my team was video conferencing with the big boss, and we were getting feedback on a system we’d developed.
He described it as “the shit” and then went on to gush about all the new features.
After the meeting of course, my colleagues were initially pretty down. English is not their first language, and they did not know the shit is positive. 
An electron would say they both mean the same thing ;).
This might be wrong place, but…
Passed
He passed on a blind curve (he overtook another vehicle on a blind curve, or he died on a blind curve, possibly while passing on a blind curve)
He passed on a fat girl (“No thanks, I’m not that drunk.” he said OR he said “Sure, why not”, got a ladder, climbed up, then died from lack of oxygen)
Assumed
Assumed room temperature (he went into a room and thought, “It feels really warm in here, I bet it’s at least a hundred.” OR he died)
Used to usually mean more like “horrifying” (number 3 below), now means “wonderful”
From dictionary.com
extraordinarily great or intense:
terrific speed.
2.
extremely good; wonderful:
a terrific vacation.
3.
causing terror; terrifying.
“Wicked” is the only really clear one that springs to mind.
Bacteria divide in order to multiply. Does that count?
Shelled, skinned, boned (grow up) all mean not having those things.
You can straighten something by bending it.
That’s about the best I can come up with. I guess it would create confusion if there were loads of good examples.
Shalom
Oy can mean damn near anything. As someone put it. Oy is not a word; oy is a vocabulary.
Cleave
No.
As in
“The resturants around here are quite crowded in the evening.”
“No, you’re right. It’s terrible.”
2010 SD: Are there any words that have come to mean the exact opposite of their original meaning?
2003 SD: Words that have opposite meanings
It’s definitely worth noting that Joyce, in Finnegans Wake, not only asks OP question at a deep (and ultimately playful) level, but adopts it, answers it, and – in the spirit of OP, literally (heh) denies his own answers. The notion, almost a structural theme: the ideat termed “the coincidence of opposites” (sounds better as its usual cite: coincidentia oppositorum, brought into Christian thought, somewhat perilously, by the 15th century theologian Nicholas of Cusa, and elaborated even more perilously by Giordano Bruno.
In the Wake, etymology is epistemology, and finally etymology is denied its seeming dominion. (Note that the one Wiki cite to the Wake is unhelpful as to the import of Bruno.) As part of Joyce’s program, hundreds (?) words are concocted by homonymic self-antonyms or antonyms as literal or near near rhymes from English and across languages (i.e., written word understood “equally” in one or more other languages is an antonym–and to Joyce my (English reader) understanding-through-language has no right to invalidates theirs.
A well-known (to Joycean) near-summation of this idea–and note, the summation itself contains the reading of its own in which summary is negated–is the following, which I contribute to the thread, containing, as it does, an individual self-antonym and a pun (sound “coincidences” have a non-accidental relation to the semantic coincidences as well), all to to describe the “antonymic” postulate of Cusa, Bruno, and, although of less or no intent to Joyce, other philosophers (Unity of Opposites).
All that (plus the rest of the book’s program expressed by the creative choice of the writer) in three words:
“…The abnihilisation of the etym…”
Annihilation and its opposite, fundamental creation ex nihilo–from nothing; to boot this process is accorded to the atom, the fundamental “created thing” of the Universe (the Mona, whatever), which is either annihilated or created, but we already are put on notice that the action is equivocal, which leaves the object’s status equivocal. And we know this because the roots of language and thought about the process, its simultaneous two-facedness, is matched by the two faced nature of these objects as “merely” etymological tracings.
Etymological metaphysics of course dates from Plato and has a fine history. Joyce stepped up to the plate and explored it on its own (or his own) terms.
Cx: four words.
Isn’t that five words?
Knew that would come up…
abnihilization=2 (counting the latin as 1 word)
etym=2
So, should be 6, of course:
each as a portmanteau is 1 word as well. Which was his whole fucking point. :smack:
If Joyce were still alive, he’d be falling over in laughter that someone managed to cram that much meaning into those couple of words.
Apparently.
At first glance the two meanings don’t seem opposite–if something is apparently evil, the ‘evil’ applies for either meaning. But we’re not interested in the noun, but the adjective. It can mean either ‘positively/clearly’ or ‘possibly/seemingly’, which would be difficult to make less alike.
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