Q: What is the origin of the phrase “like stink” (as in “run like stink”)? I know what it means, but not why it means that.

A: “Like stink” has been used colloquially in British English since the early 20th century to mean furiously or intensely. It’s similar to “like hell,” “like mad,” and “like crazy,” intensifiers of a type that dates back to the early 16th century.

The Oxford English Dictionary’s earliest “like stink” example, which we’ve expanded, is from a play set in the trenches of a British Army infantry company during World War I:

“If you see a Minnie coming—that’s a big trench mortar shell, you know—short for Minnywerfe—you see ’em come right out of the Boche trenches, right up in the air, then down, down, down; and you have to judge it and run like stink sometimes.”

(From Journey’s End, by the English playwright R. C. Sherriff. Laurence Olivier starred in the play when it first opened at the Apollo Theatre in London on Dec. 9, 1928.)

The word “like” is used similarly in American as well as British English in many other colloquial expressions that indicate doing something intensely: “run like blazes,” “fight like the dickens,” “write like a house on fire,” and so on.

As the OED explains, “like” is “now typically analysed as a preposition” when used “in proverbial similes,” specifically “in phrases describing an action carried out rapidly, with great vigour or energy, or without restraint or limitation.”

In these colloquial phrases, according to the dictionary, “the complement of like is taken as expressive of vigour, energy, etc., rather than being obviously similative.” You might say that they look like similes and act like adverbs.

The usage dates from at least the early 1500s, as in this OED example about somebody who devours food without restraint, leaving little for his companions to eat:

“One doth another tell / Se how he fedeth, lyke the deuyll of hell / Our parte he eteth nought good shall we tast” (from Egloges, a collection of eclogues, or short poems, written around 1530 by the Anglican priest and poet Alexander Barclay).

The dictionary has two older examples in which “as” is used instead of “like.” The oldest is from The Romance of William of Palerne (circa 1350), an anonymous Middle English translation of Guillaume de Palerme, a French tale written around 1200.

In the part of the tale cited, the Holy Roman Emperor wonders where his daughter is. When told that she isn’t in her chamber, he goes to see for himself and “driues in at þat dore as a deuel of helle” (“rushes in through the door as a devil of hell”).

Finally, we should mention that the energetic sense of “stink” may perhaps have been influenced by the use of the word in the early 19th century for a commotion or a fuss. The first Oxford example for the earlier sense is from a glossary of underworld slang:

“When any robbery of moment has been committed, which causes much alarm, or of which much is said in the daily papers, the family people will say, there is a great stink about it” (New and Comprehensive Vocabulary of the Flash Language, 1812, by James Hardy Vaux).

Did you know Adept’s go-to style guide updates its Q&A section every month with new questions? Were you just wondering whether to list the website as Twitter or X in your citation of a tweet? Then this is your lucky month! You can find the answer below! Here is the latest batch of CMOS’ questions and answers.

Q. Would it be “the Color Purple musical” or “The Color Purple musical”?

A. The musical version of The Color Purple would be referred to as “the Color Purple musical”—where “the” is part of the surrounding text (and the The in the title has been omitted). A “the” belonging to the text could also be used before a title that doesn’t include an initial The. For example, a musical version of Star Trek might be referred to as “the Star Trek musical.”

Or consider other scenarios where a title that does include an initial The is used attributively (i.e., modifies another noun—like musical in the examples above). If you were to retain the The in the following example (where the title modifies character), the result would be clearly awkward:

Which Great Gatsby character do you dislike most?

not

Which The Great Gatsby character do you dislike most?

There’s no “the” at all in the first version of that example—which would also be true if you were to refer to “a Color Purple musical,” where the indefinite article “a” displaces the definite article The in the title. In general, when the title of a work is used attributively, be prepared to omit an initial The in favor of the surrounding text. See also CMOS 8.169.

Q. My question is regarding CMOS 2.12 on paragraph format—specifically, the directive to “let the word processor determine the breaks at the ends of lines.” This rule is for manuscripts, but I would like to know if it applies to websites. Are there exceptions?

A. Whether your document is a manuscript in Microsoft Word or an article published online as reflowable text, it’s usually best to let lines break where they will. But there are some exceptions in both contexts.

If you use Chicago-style spaced ellipses in your manuscript . . . like that, you’ll want to put a nonbreaking space before and after the middle dot. It isn’t mandatory at the manuscript stage—ellipses are usually formatted by whoever prepares a text for publication—but broken ellipses look bad.

In the published version of a document—as in an e-book or other reflowable format—there are some additional places where nonbreaking spaces may be added for publication. Some are optional:

• Between initials in names like E. B. White

• Between a parenthetical enumerator—e.g., (1) and (2) or (a) and (b)—and the word that follows

• Between a numeral and an abbreviated unit of measure (e.g., 1 kg)

Others, like the nonbreaking spaces in spaced ellipses, would be required:

• Between groups of digits in SI-style numerals like 33 333,33 (for 33,333.33), as described in CMOS 9.55

• Between consecutive single and double quotation marks separated by a space, as described in CMOS 6.11 and in a related post at Shop Talk

For some additional considerations, start with CMOS 6.121 and 7.36.

Q. Would you spell out 150,000?

A. Use numerals for 150,000. The applicable principles are as follows:

• Spell out numbers one through one hundred (Chicago’s general rule).

• Spell out multiples of one through one hundred used in combination with hundred, thousand, or hundred thousand.

So you would spell out “five thousand” and “one hundred thousand” but use digits for 150,000—because 150 would normally be rendered as a numeral.

But if you’re following Chicago’s alternative rule of using digits for 10 and up, all such larger numbers are usually given as numerals. Rather than, for example, “fifteen thousand” or “15 thousand,” you’d write 15,000.

For more details, see CMOS 9.2, 9.3, and 9.4. For numbers with million, billion, and so forth, see CMOS 9.8.

Q. I am editing a nineteenth-century American diary, and I often want to omit passages that span a paragraph break. If I use, say, the first sentence of the first paragraph, then the second sentence of the second paragraph, how should it look? Using two ellipses looks weird to me. Or maybe I don’t need to indicate the new paragraph at all?

A. If you’re running the quotation in with the surrounding text instead of presenting it as a block quotation, there’s no need to signal the paragraph break; simply use ellipses for the omitted part as recommended in CMOS 13.50, 13.53, and 13.54. But if you’re using a block quotation (as for one hundred words or more), then show the paragraph break as follows:

Let’s pretend that the words in this extract (which is another term for block quotation) have been reproduced from the beginning of the first paragraph of a quoted source. This is the first paragraph continued, but our quotation is interrupted after this sentence—a break that’s signaled after a sentence-ending period by the three spaced dots of a Chicago-style ellipsis, like this. . . .
 . . . This is the second sentence from next paragraph of the quoted source. Note how the ellipsis at the beginning of this paragraph (the second ellipsis in this quotation) is preceded by a paragraph indent.

If the second paragraph in the block quotation above had started with the beginning of the quoted paragraph in the original, then the second ellipsis would have been omitted; see CMOS 13.56. But be careful. If the intended meaning of the original text wouldn’t be clear even to readers who haven’t consulted that same source, make adjustments until it is.

Q. I am seeing everywhere now that people are putting acronyms in parentheses instead of words, as in “Food and Drug Administration (FDA)” versus “FDA (Food and Drug Administration).” Can you explain to me why this is becoming more common? Parentheses have always been intended for additional information or words of further explanation, which is the opposite of an acronym. It just seems so backwards to me, and if you’re searching for what the acronym stands for, it’s hard to find because the acronym is in the parentheses and used from then on. Please help me understand the logic people are following with this style.

A. It makes sense to put the abbreviation first when the abbreviation is the better-known term—as is arguably the case for the FDA. But there’s no rule against putting the abbreviation in parentheses. In fact, when you introduce an abbreviation primarily as a space-saving device, the convention is to put the abbreviation in parentheses the first time it appears. For example,

According to the Abbreviation Appreciation Society (AAS) . . .

which is shorthand for

According to the Abbreviation Appreciation Society (which we’ll hereinafter refer to as AAS for the sake of convenience) . . .

And though it’s true that you lose a bit of clarity through abbreviation, there are a couple of strategies that can help readers. First, consider reintroducing the spelled-out term alongside the abbreviation in each new chapter or other major division in which it appears. And if your text features many otherwise unfamiliar abbreviations, consider adding a list as described in CMOS 1.44.

Q. I am citing a specific tweet according to the guidelines in CMOS 14.209. But if the tweet was published before July 2023, should I list the website as Twitter or X? Thanks!

A. Whether it’s a book from the 1970s or a post on social media, sources are generally cited as published. For books, that means recording the publisher’s name as listed on the title page, even if that name has changed or no longer exists. But when you cite an older tweet, the URL in the citation will direct readers to that same tweet (if it hasn’t been deleted) but on what is now called X (and whether the domain is twitter.com or x.com).

To make the situation clear even for readers who may not be aware of the change, add “now X” in parentheses after “Twitter” in your source citation: “. . . Twitter (now X) . . .” A post published after the name change would be cited as having been published on X (no need to add “formerly Twitter”).

Q. After years of using Chicago citation form, I have begun to wonder: What about all the folks who get left out of the citations, who go unrecognized for their work? For example, in a magazine article accompanied by striking and thoughtful illustrations or graphs or pictures, shouldn’t those workers get credit as well as the people who wrote the text? Often it’s those images that stay with us; often they are the only part of an article that people even take in. I guess I can freestyle my citations, but I wondered what your policy on this is. Thanks.

A. Though it’s nice when a footnote gives credit explicitly to one or more creators, the primary purpose of a source citation is to identify—concisely and unambiguously—the source of a quotation or other idea that is not your own. The responsibility for crediting the contributors to such a source lies with the source itself (as on the title page of a book or at the head of an article—or in a credit line that accompanies an illustration).

As you suggest, you can always name additional contributors if you want to. But unless the work of a particular illustrator or other contributor is essential to your reason for having consulted and cited the source—in which case the best place to give credit may be in the text rather than in a source citation—it’s usually best to stick to the basic citation format. Unnamed contributors, including anyone obscured behind et al. (“and others”), will simply have to take comfort in the fact that a source they’ve contributed to has been cited (and, one would hope, consulted).

(The forthcoming 18th edition of CMOS will include an example of how to credit an illustrator in addition to an author in a source citation.)

One is former Air Force gunner Mel Jenner, now 102. Follow this link to read the story. We transcribe these stories every day, and it’s amazing how little they have forgotten. This next paragraph from The Washington Post Opinion illustrates what we hear every day. They remember the names, they remember the faces, they remember their laugh, where they were from, where they were heading, the shock of realizing they weren’t coming back. I hope you can follow the link and read the article.

Jenner, as photojournalist David Burnett recounts, is not thinking about the war in the abstract. He is thinking about his best friend, Oscar McClure, then a young gunner as well, and watching as his friend waved his last goodbye from a neighboring plane. Far away from the speeches this week, that’s what D-Day still means to those who were there.

Mel Jenner, a veteran of the U.S. Army Air Corps and the Air Force, at his home in Orlando in March. (David Burnett/Contact Press Images)

Opinion

The B-17 blew apart in an instant. The memory has burned for 80 years.

For waist gunner Mel Jenner, a friend’s farewell in the skies over occupied France has echoed since 1944.

By David Burnett

June 3, 2024 at 6:00 a.m. EDT