There’s nothing like a refreshing gulp of water, unless what you thought was water turns out to be vodka or Sprite. When the expectation of what you’ll taste gives way to surprise, shock, and offense, you’ve experienced what one listener calls cephalus offendo. You might also call it anticipointment. This is part of a complete episode.
Transcript of “Cephalus Offendo”
Hello, you have A Way with Words.
Hi, how’s it going?
Super, who’s this?
Hey.
This is Marco from San Diego, California.
Hello, Marco.
Hi, Marco.
Welcome to the show. You sound enthusiastic.
Well, the reason I wanted to talk to you guys is that, well, I have sort of a phenomenon that I was hoping that you guys could help clear up. If there is a phrase for this phenomenon already, great. But we’ve kind of made up a phrase for it, my wife and I. So to set up the situation, think for just a moment that you have a cup on the table that in your head, you know to be water. And you pick up the cup and you drink and it is in fact Sprite or orange juice or something completely different. Have you ever experienced something like that?
Yes, we’re reacting as you speak. I see. Yes. And when this happens, I feel like there is a real physical reaction that happens in your body. I almost feel that the expectation of what you are going to taste is partly put on top of what you actually taste. And there’s this shock and this offense and it takes you aback. And we were trying to come up with a phrase for that phenomenon.
And we kind of made up this phrase that we deemed cephalus offendo. What we wanted was the phrase to reflect what happens, and we think it’s like an affront to your senses. You feel this wave of your brain reacting to the momentary lapse in its trust in the consistency of the world.
So we thought it would be very multilayered and obscure, so we looked for some words that would be multilayered and obscure. So we dug into the ancient Greek for head, and we found cephalus out of, I guess, cephalopods. My wife and I are in the zoology field, so she pulled from that.
And we decided cephalus offendo, because it’s like an offense of your head, would be the best term to describe this, in our experience at least.
So I was wondering if there was already a phrase to describe such a phenomenon.
That sounds like one of the lesser Hogwarts spells.
Yeah, it does kind of sound like a Harry Potter spell.
Cephalus offendo!
What the first years work with, right?
Before they do transformations.
Cephalus offendo.
Oh, I do like that.
Because you can say it like an exclamation, just kind of blurt it out when something happens.
You’re like, oh, cephalus offendo!
I thought that was water!
What is this? It’s vodka!
It’s become part of our normal vocabulary.
It reminds me, you know, you make me think of the vegetarian fakes.
That’s when this happens to me the most.
When, like, you’re out with vegetarians and to go along, you order, like, the fake steak or the fake burger and you bite into it and you’re like, this is nothing like a burger.
It’s burger shaped.
It looks like a burger, but it does not taste like a burger.
The vegetarian fakes give cephalosofendo all the time.
Yeah, no, that’s a great use of the word, I think.
But cephalosofendo, it sounds like syphilis, though.
I can’t get behind this.
Oh, wow.
I didn’t want to go there.
I didn’t even think of that.
When you first said it, I thought you said sensulosofendo.
Which I thought was kind of a fake Latin enough that you might get away with it.
It’s offending your senses.
And I would take it that it doesn’t necessarily have to be a beverage or a food.
I mean, it could be like a suitcase that you think is heavy, and then you pick it up, and it doesn’t have anything in it.
Yeah, that’s another step.
Oh, blind dates, blind dates. Blind dates.
And your friend says, oh, she’s wonderful. And you realize all she can talk about is my little pony. And you’re like, oh, no.
Oh, no. Yucko offendo. I can’t do this.
Maybe there’s a specific psychological term for it. It’s not exactly cognitive dissonance. There’s a literary term that kind of applies. Peripatia.
This is when there’s like a sudden reversal in the story. Like the thing turns around for the hero. But maybe you could just extend that term a little bit and use peripatia. P-E-R-I-P-E-T-E-I-A.
And it’s kind of like a sucker punch, right? You didn’t know it was coming.
Yeah. It’s almost like a paraprostokian.
A little bit, yeah.
The only other term that I can think of, the drawback is that it’s not a highfalutin term, but I would describe that as antisappointment.
Oh.
Oh.
You like that?
Oh, my gosh. That’s really good. Antisappointment. Look at you.
I knew there was a reason I called you guys. She’s looking very smug right now.
Well, we might have to replace Seppalus Ascendo with antisappointment from time to time.
I like the Latin-esque thing that you guys came up with. I really would like, I think the fake Latin is a way to go on this.
Okay, well, you know, we can use antisappointment as the common name.
Oh, there you go.
And then the binomial form.
Yes, right. Mixing the Greek and the Latin there. We’re feeling very fancy.
This is a great question, and we’re going to throw this out to everybody and see what else we get. You never know with our crowd.
All right?
All right. I can’t wait to hear all about it.
Thanks, Marco.
Thanks, you guys. Have a great one.
Bye-bye.
So here it is. Here’s the pitch.
When you have something that doesn’t turn out like you expected, the drink that you thought was water turns out to be vodka.
Yeah, or you think it’s in a big glass mug and it’s plastic, and you put it up and you slam your face with it.
The suitcase you thought was heavy is light. The blind date that you thought would be awesome is terrible.
What are you going to call that? Coin a word for us, will you?
Martha calls it antisappointment. Maybe you’ve got something else.
877-929-9673. Email words@waywordradio.org.

