Two kudos, one kudo?
As if English weren’t baffling enough, we’ve imported words from many other languages. And sometimes the process of assimilation grinds them up into barely recognizable bits. All the native rules for forming plurals, for example, become murky or simply go away.
Among other indignities, we subject these adopted words to back-formation. Singular Greek words, particularly those ending in s or x, sound to many English-speakers like plurals. So we feel compelled to invent a singular form that was never necessary in the original language.
Case in point: Kudos, a singular Greek word, originally meant congratulation or honor. Then it became popular in business (“Kudos to the Quality Team for their good work!”) and we ended up with “… and a special kudo to the Team Leader.” [Insert palm-to-forehead gesture here.]
I once attended a technical writing seminar led by a highly touted PhD expert. When an audience member asked how to deal with an off-topic piece of information, Mr. Expert said:
Well, you could put it in an appendisee (phonetic spelling).
It’s as if, in an attempt to show off his knowledge of Greek plurals (appendices) he forgot that appendix was already a perfectly good singular word. Two kudos, one kudo. One appendix, two appendices … back-formed to one appendice? Does that mean we would also say one vertice, one matrice, one indice?
If we’re determined to claim these words in English, it makes more sense to accept them as singular and then pluralize them in English: vertexes, matrixes, and indexes. Maybe we would be less likely to back-form them into absurd singular-sounding words. Most authoritative sources accept appendixes as an acceptable plural of appendix. My college roommate used to say (jokingly), “I have a sniffle – better get some Kleenices.”
Several English words are always plural (eyeglasses, tongs, scissors, trousers, pliers), and no singular form makes sense. We often preface them with pair of just to be clear. Although one eyeglass could be a monocle, the others are not logically divisible. If you’re into Zen, please don’t write to me about the sound of one hand clapping.
All of this chao gives me a headache. I may be a smartypant, but I’m going to put a molasse on my pancake, bid you adio, and rendezvou with an undiscovered specie on some remote island. Perhaps a Galapago.
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