Discussion Groups / English Usage / July 2009

Maria Conlon (copyedited):

The little cartoon that Maria's talking about is the ____ of Bad Hat
Harry Productions, one of the companies that produces House.

And say, what word or phrase goes in the blank, anyway?  I'm talking
about those little animated sequences that feature the company's name
and often end with its logo.  In a movie they come at the very start,
in a TV show at the very end.  I want to call them "logos" too, but
to me that word implies something static that could go on a printed
page.  "Animated logo" doesn't cut it, as they may include things that
aren't part of the logo itself.

Anyone know what they call them in the business?

As you know, I was writing (writely or wrongly) about habits that come
into vogue, are taken up by the people, and pass away when their day is
over. Perhaps the subject didn't hang particularly well with the piece
cited by Vinny B, on modern public displays of emotion, but never mind
that.

Charles Mackay was a Scot, a journalist, and a war correspondent for The
Times during the American Civil War. He wrote a Dictionary of Lowland
Scotch. In 1841 he published a book "Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular
Delusions". The title page included a quotation "Il est bon de connaître
les délires de l'esprit humain. Chaque peuple a ses folies plus ou moins
grossières." My poor interpretation, translating one word at a time, is
"It is well to know the deliriums of the human spirit. Each people has
its follies more or less crass."

In the second edition, published in 1852, Mackay extended the title with
the words "and the Madness of Crowds", and picked a longer French
quotation too, to add yet more weight. The author quoted was Boileau,
which could be, but isn't, an interesting subliminal Froggy-English
comment. (Comment?)

At some stage in the evolution of the book there was included a chapter
"Popular Follies of Great Cities". Mackay soon gets into remarks on
catch-phrases.

<http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/24518>

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular
Delusions and the Madness of Crowds, by Charles Mackay

[This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org]

Quote from Chapter 13:

London is peculiarly fertile in this sort of phrases, which spring up
suddenly, no one knows exactly in what spot, and pervade the whole
population in a few hours, no one knows how. Many years ago the
favourite phrase (for, though but a monosyllable, it was a phrase in
itself) was Quoz. This odd word took the fancy of the multitude in an
extraordinary degree, and very soon acquired an almost boundless
meaning. When vulgar wit wished to mark its incredulity, and raise a
laugh at the same time, there was no resource so sure as this popular
piece of slang. When a man was asked a favour which he did not choose to
grant, he marked his sense of the suitor's unparalleled presumption by
exclaiming _Quoz_! When a mischievous urchin wished to annoy a
passenger, and create mirth for his comrades, he looked him in the face,
and cried out _Quoz!_ and the exclamation never failed in its object.
When a disputant was desirous of throwing a doubt upon the veracity of
his opponent, and getting summarily rid of an argument which he could
not overturn, he uttered the word _Quoz_, with a contemptuous curl of
his lip, and an impatient shrug of his shoulders. The universal
monosyllable conveyed all his meaning, and not only told his opponent
that he lied, but that he erred egregiously if he thought that any one
was such a nincompoop as to believe him. Every alehouse resounded with
_Quoz_; every street-corner was noisy with it, and every wall for miles
around was chalked with it.

But, like all other earthly things, _Quoz_ had its season, and passed
away as suddenly as it arose, never again to be the pet and the idol of
the populace. A new claimant drove it from its place, and held
undisputed sway till, in its turn, it was hurled from its pre-eminence,
and a successor appointed in its stead.

"_What a shocking bad hat!_" was the phrase that was next in vogue. No
sooner had it become universal, than thousands of idle but sharp eyes
were on the watch for the passenger whose hat shewed any signs, however
slight, of ancient service. Immediately the cry arose, and, like the
war-whoop of the Indians, was repeated by a hundred discordant throats.
He was a wise man who, finding himself under these circumstances "the
observed of all observers," bore his honours meekly. He who shewed
symptoms of ill-feeling at the imputations cast upon his hat, only
brought upon himself redoubled notice. The mob soon perceive whether a
man is irritable, and, if of their own class, they love to make sport of
him. When such a man, and with such a hat, passed in those days through
a crowded neighbourhood, he might think himself fortunate if his
annoyances were confined to the shouts and cries of the populace. The
obnoxious hat was often snatched from his head and thrown into the
gutter by some practical joker, and then raised, covered with mud, upon
the end of a stick, for the admiration of the spectators, who held their
sides with laughter, and exclaimed, in the pauses of their mirth, "_Oh,
what a shocking bad hat!_" "_What a shocking bad hat!_" Many a nervous
poor man, whose purse could but ill spare the outlay, doubtless
purchased a new hat before the time, in order to avoid exposure in this
manner.

The origin of this singular saying, which made fun for the metropolis
for months, is not involved in the same obscurity as that which shrouds
the origin of _Quoz_ and some others. There had been a hotly contested
election for the borough of Southwark, and one of the candidates was an
eminent hatter. This gentleman, in canvassing the electors, adopted a
somewhat professional mode of conciliating their good-will, and of
bribing them without letting them perceive that they were bribed.
Whenever he called upon or met a voter whose hat was not of the best
material, or, being so, had seen its best days, he invariably said,
"_What a shocking bad hat you have got; call at my warehouse, and you
shall have a new one!_" Upon the day of election this circumstance was
remembered, and his opponents made the most of it, by inciting the crowd
to keep up an incessant cry of "_What a shocking bad hat!_" all the time
the honourable candidate was addressing them. From Southwark the phrase
spread over all London, and reigned for a time the supreme slang of the
season.

"What a shocking bad hat" is apparently a meaningless nonsense phrase
that (upper-class?) British people have said to each other for ages. An
1831 _Mirror_ at Google Books has a piece on its use and possible
origins.

http://tinyurl.com/m6mmqf

or

http://books.google.com/books?id=0wwJAQAAIAAJ&pg=PA48&dq=%22bad+hat%22+d
ate:1800-1955

As an Americanism, a "bad hat" is a bad person. The Random House
Historical Dictionary of American Slang quotes _Dialectal Notes_ of 1914
as lumping it in with "bad penny" and "bad lot". I think I only
encountered it in the children's book "Madeleine and the Bad Hat" by L.
Bemelmans.