New rule: if you are a scientist and gain naming rights to a new species, you aren't allowed to use your own name unless it's a cool or relevant one. And even then, you're on thin ice
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New rule: if you are a scientist and gain naming rights to a new species, you aren't allowed to use your own name unless it's a cool or relevant one. And even then, you're on thin ice
Recently I've been going through my old dinosaur books, and ignoring how blatantly outdated most of them are, some of them have raised a question that I was hoping you might have some input on.
Why are species names always in lower case?
Like, my brain always wants to capitalise them as proper nouns, but I know that'd be wrong. I just wanted to ask on the off chance that you know the answer, if not no worries, was only curious :)
It's just the accepted way to write binomial names! Italicized, capital for the Genus, lowercase for the species
How did you come up with all the binomial names?
By drawing a pentagram on my bedroom floor and sacrificing a goat to some eldritch monstrosity, in exchange for arcane knowledge.
Honestly, my approach to creating binomen varies from monster to monster. I always set out with the intention of keeping the names as grammatically correct as possible, in line with the declensions for Greek and Latin. I do my best to adhere to the International Code of Zoological Nomenclature, but at the end of the day, I’m just one nerd with no formal training. I’m very much an armchair linguist, and while there’s nothing wrong with being an autodidact, it does make me prone to second-guessing. Doesn’t really help that I don’t have a list of acquaintances to consult, who would actually be able to give me reliable feedback.
Sometimes, though, I think a little inexperience makes the naming process more authentic. Because scientists are people, and you can never underestimate the capacity of people to be Extra As Hell.
Let me give you a few examples:
In 2004, entomologists Kelly B. Miller and Quentin D. Wheeler reclassified a genus of leiodid fungus beetles as Gelae (/ˈdʒɛli/). Yes, it is pronounced exactly the way you think it is. The species in this newly-christened genus include G. baen (“jelly bean”), G. belae (“jelly belly”), G. donut (“jelly doughnut”), G. fish (“jelly fish”), and G. rol (“jelly roll”). The authors said that they were merely wordplays without any taxonomical jargon; a “whimsical arrangement of letters.”
And then there’s the lovely Heteropoda davidbowie, described by Peter Jäger. The name was selected for a few reasons: (1), the colors and patterns on the spider’s face resemble the painted face makeup David Bowie wore in his early career; (2), the name references the song “Glass Spider,” as well as his album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars; (3), the species has an estimated 500 individuals left, so Jäger hoped that giving it a catchy name would draw headlines and help with conservation efforts.
Allow me to introduce you to a trilobite described by Samuel Turvey in 2005. Its name? Han solo. Turvey called it that because a couple of his friends dared him to name a species after a Star Wars character. And while you might roll your eyes at that, the name is actually really clever. The generic name Han is a reference to the Han people, the largest ethnic group in China (where the trilobite was found); the specific epithet solo refers to the fact it’s the sole species belonging to that genus; and like many trilobites, the fossils tend to be extremely well-preserved, similar to how Harrison Ford was preserved in carbonite.
I could literally go on for days. There’s even a website dedicated to compiling all of the ridiculous names out there called Curiosities of Biological Nomenclature. The person who does the heavy-lifting is a bloke named Mark Isaak, and they deserve mad respect.
There’s a point I’m trying to make, I swear.
You see, if professional scientists with degrees can get away with making nerdy references and butchering the grammar of Latin and Greek, THEN SO CAN I.
Sometimes I’ll give monsters really cool or epic-sounding names that try to capture a quality about them, whether that’s their appearance, geographic range, behavior, or some historical fact pertaining to their discovery.
Some of my favorites include:
The verdant qurupeco, Cantio sirenius. Its name means “siren’s song” in Latin, a reference to the high fidelity of its vocal mimicry.
The dire miralis, Pyrothalassion basileus. Its name translates to “Greek fire emperor.” Its generic name comes from an incendiary weapon used by the Byzantine navy. Remember the wildfire from Game of Thrones? It’s basically that. The name felt pretty appropriate for a sea-dwelling dragon that breathes fire.
The black nargacuga, Xyrafiptera cervarius. Its name means “razor-winged deer-hunter” in Latin, a combination of physical descriptors and behavior. It also sounds rad as hell.
And then…we have those names.
The disufiroa, Apparentia absurda. You can take a wild guess what that translates to. I mean, just look at this thing. It’s got weird, inverted, spike-things on its chest. No idea what the fuck those are for.
The harudomerugu, Retentio incredulitatis. Its name is the closest I could get to “suspension of disbelief” in Latin. By now you might have noticed that scientific names are basically my way of bullying the Frontier monsters, because seriously, what the hell, Capcom?
The baruragaru, Stercusanctum currite. Okay, so this one isn’t me taking the piss out of the Frontier design team, because I actually like this monster. Its name is based on my reaction when I first saw the G3 trailer: Jesus Christ, what is that thing? The baruragaru was given the dubious honor of being named “holy shit, run,” because if I saw that thing in real life I’d be trying to put as many doors, walls, and preferably continents between it and myself as possible.
The great jaggi, Magnaraptor ebrius. Also known as the “drunken great thief.” Full disclosure: I’m a big fan of NCHProductions and wanted to sneak in a fun reference to their videos. Whenever they animate the great jaggi it’s always drunk, so I named it in honor of its alcoholism.
The pariapuria, Haustranguis amphibious. Its name means “amphibious bucket dragon” in Latin, and there’s a reason for that. You see, The Encyclopedia wasn’t just intended as a fun creative exercise, but as a learning tool for people interested in zoological classification. In taxonomy there’s this thing called a wastebasket taxon—when a species is incertae sedis, or of uncertain placement, it might get dumped into a poly- or paraphyletic taxon. Academically, this is what’s known as “this thing is weird and I don’t know where it goes, so for now I’m putting it in time out.” When I first tried to classify the pariapuria I couldn’t really figure out what it was related to: The tigrexes? The nargas? Neither? And then it hit me: I didn’t have to have an answer. Instead, I decided to put it in a wastebasket taxon. It’s meant to be a nod to the harrows of IRL taxonomy, and just how much of a clusterfuck it can be sometimes. As for why it’s called “bucket dragon,” and not “basket dragon,” well. I couldn’t exactly find a translation for “basket” in Latin, so I asked myself, “Okay, what’s the next best thing?” And thus we have bucket dragon.
Isn’t taxonomy fun?
Hypothetical Grimm Species
Common name: Alabastet Scientific name: Mauropanthera pardus Translation: “black leopardine panther” Source of inspiration: Leopard
Etymology 1: Alabastet is a portmanteau of the words “alabaster” (a white mineral) and “Bastet” (an Egyptian deity with the head of a cat). The word alabaster itself is thought to be derived from the Ancient Egyptian a-labaste, “vessel of Bast.” Etymology 2: From the Greek words μαυρός (maurós), mauro-, “black,” + πάνθηρ (pánthēr), “panther.” From the Greek word πάρδος (párdos), “leopard.”
About: A species of feliform Grimm, named for the bright-white eyespots that adorn its pelt. Indigenous to the deserts of western Sanus.
Common name: Attercop Scientific name: Arthrodeimos repens Translation: “crawling jointed terror” Source of inspiration: Any number of spider species
Etymology 1: Attercop is the Middle English word for “spider,” derived from a compound of Old English ātor "poison" and copp “head.” Etymology 2: From the Greek words ἄρθρον (árthron), “joint,” + δειμός (deimós), “terror.” From the Latin word rēpēns, “creeping, crawling.”
About: A spider-like Grimm found around the equator in subterranean environments. Its chelicerae contain a powerful hemotoxic venom that is fatal without immediate medical attention.
Common name: Chimera Scientific name: Ailuropteryx polyops Translation: “many-faced winged cat” Source of inspiration: Chimera
Etymology 1: The Chimera is named after the eponymous monster of Greek mythology. Etymology 2: From the Greek words αἴλουρος (aílouros), ailuro-, “cat,” + πτέρυξ (ptérux), -pteryx, “wing.” From the Greek words πολύς (polús), poly-, “many” + ὤψ (ṓps), “face.”
About: A species of feliform Grimm most commonly found in northern Anima. The two heads at the front of the torso bear a resemblance to a lion and a goat, respectively. Rather than a traditional tail, the Chimera has a snake-like appendage which can operate independently of the main body. It can breathe fire.
Common name: Cockatrice Scientific name: Calcatrix phallodont Translation: “phallus-tooth cockatrice” Source of inspiration: Cockatrice
Etymology 1: The Cockatrice is named after the eponymous monster of English mythology. Etymology 2: From the Old French word cocatriz, “cockatrice,” derived from Late Latin calcātrīx, “she who treads upon something.” From the Greek words φαλλός (phallós), phallo-, “phallus,” + ὀδών (odṓn), -odon, “tooth.” Its scientific name is a play-on-words (phallus > cock + -dont > tooth = “cockbite”; Rooster Teeth).
About: An avian, draconic Grimm found in eastern Sanus. Its crowing is concussive at short-range and is capable of summoning other Grimm. When threatened, it will release a volley of fireballs.
Common name: Felifiend Scientific name: Anthrovenator felinus Translation: “cat-like human-hunter” Source of inspiration: Any number of small to medium-sized felid species
Etymology 1: The Felifiend’s name comes from a portmanteau of Latin fēlēs (gen. fēlis) “cat” and English “fiend” (derived from the Old English word fēond “enemy”). Etymology 2: From the Greek word ἄνθρωπος (ánthrōpos), anthro-, “human” + the Latin word vēnātor, “hunter.” From the Latin word fēlīnus, “feline.”
About: A species of feliform Grimm native to the forests of Anima and Sanus. Known for its tendency to inflict near-fatal injuries on Huntsmen, only to then continue “playing” with them while the Huntsman bleeds out.
Common name: Grimalkin Scientific name: Xiphodontoides atrum Translation: “dull black sword-like tooth” Source of inspiration: Saber-toothed cat
Etymology 1: The Grimalkin’s name is a pun of the English word “grimalkin” (from grey + malkin, an archaic term for a cat) and the Creatures of Grimm. Etymology 2: From the Greek words nξίφος (xíphos), “sword” + ὀδών (odṓn), -odont, “tooth” + εἶδος (eîdos), -oides, “likeness.” From the Latin word ātrum, “dull black.”
About: A species of feliform Grimm distinguished by the pair of massive sabers protruding from its jaws. Indigenous to the mountains of Solitas and northern Anima.
Common name: Hellcat Scientific name: Trocholeon polypodes Translation: “many-footed wheel-lion” Source of inspiration: Buer, a 16th-century demon
Etymology 1: The Hellcat’s name is a simple compound of its constituent words “hell” and “cat,” with hell having a genitive function (hellish cat, cat [of/from] hell). Its name also directly alludes to its source of inspiration, Buer. Etymology 2: From the Greek words τροχός (trokhós), “wheel” + λέων (léōn), “lion.” From the Greek words πολύς (polús), poly-, “many” + πόδες (pódes), “feet.” The word “lionwheel” was taken from here.
About: A species of feliform Grimm that dwells within volcanic regions. It scatters ash accumulated in its fur into the air, causing particulates to build up in the lungs of those that inhale them. One of the few six-limbed Grimm.
Common name: Hobbesgoblin Scientific name: Mauropanthera tigris Translation: “black tigrine panther” Source of inspiration: Tiger
Etymology 1: The Hobbesgobblin’s name is a play-on-words of English hobgoblin (a malevolent spirit), and a nod to the tiger Hobbes from the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. Etymology 2: From the Greek words μαυρός (maurós), mauro-, “black,” + πάνθηρ (pánthēr), “panther.” From the Greek word τίγρις (tígris), “tiger.”
About: A species of feliform Grimm unique to the forests of western Sanus. It preys upon travelers, using its striped pelt to camouflage itself amongst the trees and undergrowth.
Common name: Swarmer Scientific name: Pantomenos asticum Translation: “all urban might” Source of inspiration: Rat
Etymology 1: The Swarmer is named for its intraspecific social behavior and its method of killing. Etymology 2: From the Greek words παντ- (pant-), pant-, “all,” + [o-] + μένος (ménos), “might, power, force.” From the Latin word asticum, “urban.”
About: A small, rather unassuming rodent-like Grimm known for infiltrating abandoned infrastructure and sewer systems. Dangerous in numbers due to their tendency to synchronize their attacks with the colony and overwhelm Huntsmen. As a plague-type Grimm, Swarmers are a transmission vector for various illnesses.
Common name: Tsavo Scientific name: Mauropanthera leo Translation: “black leonine panther” Source of inspiration: Lion
Etymology 1: The Tsavo gets its name from the Tsavo man-eaters, a pair of lions that preyed upon construction workers on the Kenya-Uganda Railway in 1898. Etymology 2: From the Greek words μαυρός (maurós), mauro-, “black,” + πάνθηρ (pánthēr), “panther.” From the Greek word λέων (léōn), “lion.”
About: A species of feliform Grimm native to western Sanus. Unlike most Grimm, which hunt in groups, Tsavos hunt in pairs. Known for taking trophies.
While I was working on my post for the canon Grimm scientific names I decided to flesh out some of the fictional species I’ve come up with. I’ve had this kicking around on my laptop for a while and figured now was as good of a time as any to get everything compiled in one place. I’ve left their appearances deliberately vague, so anyone who chances across this can interpret the Grimm as they see fit. I’ll be updating this as I come up with more ideas.
name list: plant genera
Is this inrended to be inspiration for people's names, place names, spells for your Marauders fic, or just to casually browse? The answer is yes! Listen, it's been a long day at work and I had an irresistible urge to clog my tabs with wikipedia links to latin names I thought were particularly neat.
As far as I'm aware, none of these latin names meaning anything bad. But do your own research, just in case.
Enjoy 💚🌿🌱🪻
Acer - maple
Ailanthus - tree of heaven
Annona - soursop, aka cherimoya
Aralia - spikenard
Ardisia - marlberry, aka coralberry
Argania - argan
Asimina - pawpaw
Azadirachta - neem tree
Callitris - cypress-pine
Calluna - heather
Carex - sedge
Carya - hickory
Ceiba - kapok
Celastrus - staff vine, aka bittersweet
Corydalis - fumewort, aka hollowort, yellow larkspur
Corylus - hazel
Cryptomeria - japanese cedar
Danae - poet's laurel, aka alexandria laurel
Dasiphora - shrubby cinquefoil
Dracaena - dragon tree or shrub
Elatostema - nettles
Ephedra - máhuáng, aka jointfir
Eucryphia - leatherwood
Galium - bedstraw
Ilex - holly
Ixora - ixora, aka west indian jasmine
Kalmia - mountain laurel
Larix - larch
Lindera - spicebush
Linnaea - twinflower
Melia - bead tree, aka chinaberry
Myrica - bayberry, aka wax-myrtle, bay-rum, candleberry, or sweet gale
Nyssa - tupelo
Ochroma - balsa
Osmanthus - osmanthus
Oxalis - wood sorrel
Pieris - andromeda, aka fetterbush
Piper - pepper vine
Pyracantha - firethorn
Rhamnus - buckthorn
Rubus - brambles
Rumex - sorrel
Sabia - sabia
Salix - willow
Sequoia - sequoia, aka redwood
Sophora - necklacepods
Stelis - leach orchids
Styrax - snowbell
Tamarix - tamarisk
Torreya - nutmeg yew
Ulex - gorse
Vinca - periwinkle
Zelkova - zelkova
🌿🌱🌿💚
Grimm Scientific Names
Lasted updated December 28, 2019. Canon-compliant as of V7E8.
Apathy, Lorem ipsum Beowolf, Sarcocanis umbricola Beringel, Daemopithecus nox Blind Worm, Cyclognathus caecus Boarbatusk, Hyocalydon gyrans Centinel, Scolopendrakon custos Creep, Lepiderpeton octonyx Death Stalker, Osteostega aculaureata Dromedon, Erimolania virosputans Geist, Eidolarion formafurans
VARIANTS -
Arma Gigas, E. f. arma Cryo Gigas, E. f. cryo Petra Gigas, E. f. petra
Goliath, Archaeotherium vagum Griffon, Gryps sciopterus Jackalope, Lagoceras herrickorum King Taijitu, Basiliscophis dicephalus Lancer, Vespiturba falcifer Leviathan, Cetiostega borealis Manticore, Ailuropteryx caudicens Megoliath, Cryotherium atliensis Nevermore, Infernavis corvinus Nuckelavee, Teratohippus longibrachiatus Ravager, Mimochiroptera confluens Sabyr, Xiphodontoides atrum Sea Feilong, Cetioserpens fulminatus Seer, Xenomedusa coronata Sphinx, Ailuropteryx major Ursa, Hylarctos phloivorous Wyvern, Euophis dinostomatus Ziraph, Laquelingua tricephala
Etymologies below the cut.
Thus before 1753 a specific name drafted according to Linnaeus's rules, as set out in his Critica botanica (1737) and exemplified in his other publications, such as the Hortus Cliffortianus (1738), Flora Lapponica (1737), Flora Suecica (1746) and Fauna Suecica (1746), had two functions which were ultimately incompatible, (1) to serve as a lab, (2) to serve as a diagnosis of the species. His major contribution to science was to separate these designatory and diagnostic functions by using for a time two sets of names concurrently. The generic name was the same in both, e.g. Iris. For everyday use he added to this a one-word or rarely a two-word specific epithet or trivial name (nomen triviale), e.g. pumila, thus creating a deliberate binomial (two-word specific name), e.g. Iris pumila. For diagnostic purposes, in order to distinguish this species from its allies, he used the diagnostic phrase, thus retaining polynomials (several-word specific names) or phrase-names, e.g. Iris corollis barbatis, caule foliis breviore unifloro. Such a polynomial determined the application of the binomial, hence its importance in the typification of Linnaean names (c.f. Stearn, 1957: 125).
Professor William T. Stearn, Appendix 1: Linnaean classification, nomenclature and method (pg. 251?) in Linnaeus: The Compleat Naturalist by Wilfred Blunt, Princeton University Press (March 18, 2002).