Confused Words

Lots of English words have more than one distinct definition. You probably already know these words as homonyms, but we’re going to be focusing on homographs today.

Homographs are those words that are spelled the same way but have multiple meanings, regardless of the pronunciation. So for example, lead metal or lead as in “to conduct” would still count, while they generally wouldn’t under the homonym definition. This is an important distinction to make since the medium we’ll be using is exclusively in writing.

A diagram illustrating the differences between the terminology.
Here’s a diagram illustrating the differences between the terminology. Notice which sections the line for “homograph” covers.

There are the obvious ones, like “baseball ‘bat’” and a “‘bat’ with wings,” but I like the weirder examples that might not come to mind right away. “Parabolic” can mean “of, or relating to a parabola” or “of, or relating to parables” (you know, like the short stories).

Now here’s the fun part: make a sentence that confuses the two, so that you can’t tell which definition it’s using. Let me try first, as a quick example:

The story was parabolic.

Okay, this one’s a bit of stretch, but hear me out. The obvious way to interpret it is to think of the sentence as describing a story that’s a bit like a parable. So, it’s parabolic. On the other hand, most people actually use “parabolic” to describe the math curve, and it tends to be the much more popular definition.

So a person who doesn’t know that “parabolic” can also describe the type of simple stories embedded with a moral message might confuse it as a sort of metaphor for the story’s structure: “That story started and ended at the same level of intensity, with a peak in the middle.”

You can make the word confusion I used more obvious with some context (read it like a pretentious book review):

The story is reminiscent of those ancient ones that attempt to illustrate a moral or spiritual lesson by the end, complete with a steadily increasing pace until it reaches its poignant and climactic peak, where it mellows quickly at first, slowing down abruptly as it approaches a satisfying resolution. You may describe it as parabolic.

You can also confuse it between two different nouns by using a unclear pronoun like “it”:

“That curve you drew looks like the path of a ball that was thrown through the air, and the book you put next to it reads like a Gospel story used to illustrate a moral lesson to kids.”

“Yeah, it’s parabolic.”

So that’s all well and good. Now let’s try it again, this time with another homograph.

Following our trend of using math curves, we’ll use “hyperbolic” this time, which can either mean “of or relating to a hyperbola” or “of or relating to hyperbole.” This one is better in the sense that both definitions are used pretty often, but worse in that it seems a little more difficult to come up with a sentence that can confuse them. There isn’t really a metaphor that applies for the math curve definition like last time, so we’ll have to take it literally.

I wrote a context that I think works pretty well, though, and in an interesting way:

“Check out what I wrote to describe this cool property of a math thing I graphed today.” Tom spoke to his friend with a calculated, relaxed manner.

Tim was always rather skeptical, but he still read onwards: “Relating to the set of functions mapping a symmetrical, open curve formed by the intersection of a circular cone with a plane at a smaller angle with its axis than the side of the cone.”

Tim retorted, “That’s way too much description for a simple maths concept. Why, it’s practically the definition of hyperbolic!”

Did you catch that? The meaning of “hyperbolic” changes based on how you actually read the last sentence, which breaks down into what words you chose to stress. Compare:

“It’s practically the definition of hyperbolic!”

vs.

“It’s practically the definition of hyperbolic!”

Isn’t that cool?

So now we have a total of three fairly distinct ways to confuse adjective homographs. We can confuse them with multiple possible descriptions, nouns, or words stresses. There are probably more distinct and interesting ways, so let me know if you find any.

Okay, what else? As a challenge, we could try to confuse more than two distinct definitions. The list of homographs with three or more distinct definitions is much shorter than just two (the words themselves tend to be, too), and even shorter if you want them all in the same parts of speech (previously, they were all adjectives).

But here’s a word that works—one that you’ve probably used before but might not think of as a homograph: row.

“Row” can mean a line of things, the act of moving an oar to move a boat, or a noisy fight (in which case it’s pronounced in a way that rhymes with “how.” Remember how we defined homographs earlier).

So this might be tricky, since “rowing” a boat is a verb and the other two are nouns. I’ll try my best:

There’s been a great deal of debate over the exact cause of the HMS Legendary’s recent disappearance in the north Atlantic Ocean. Many postulate that it was in fact the nasty altercation that broke out between crewmembers over the proper rowing technique; the famous lines of dozens of rowers—once renowned for their skill and teamwork—found themselves bitterly divided over how they should conduct themselves, which rendered their great ship immobile against the tidal threat.

If perhaps the crewmembers simply got along better, or they all decided on the same oar technique, or they were arranged in a non-linear formation that allowed them to move effectively despite the disagreement, then the ultimate fate of the ship could have been avoided.

In my opinion, only one thing is for certain: the row was at fault.

Hungry for more? Well, if we allow slang definitions, we can actually squeeze in at least five distinct meanings for “pot.” It can mean a cooking pot, a flower pot, the sum of bets made in gambling (“he raked in the pot”), marijuana, or a toilet.

I’m not even going to try to be creative in confusing these, but here goes:

George was quickly closing in on Jonathan’s location. They were both problem gamblers, but George had real power in this city. Jonathan? Just some chump who managed to cheat and swindle a load of reefer off of a dangerous dealer and his cronies. They found out, and now they’re after him.

Jonathan thought he would be safe, though. After all, he had plausible deniability; the drug was hidden inside an incredibly elaborate setup. The bag had been placed under the soil of a flower vase, which itself was in a sealed cooking vat filled with packing peanuts, and the entire setup was submerged in the toilet of an outhouse next to his mobile home. “Even with dogs, there’s no way he’d find it,” thought Jonathan, while hiding away his prize.

The dealer arrived in a white pickup truck along with four of his men. He slowly climbed out of the car, and then, much to the surprise and chagrin of Jonathan, exclaimed, “Don’t even try. I know exactly where yousa hiding it.”

He pointed to the outhouse. Hand over the pot.

So there you have it—five distinct definitions of pot contextually confused with each other. Its convoluted, sure, but also pretty hilarious. Come up with more, I guess. That’s all I got for now.

As always: Have at it, and tell me how it goes.