Tag Archives: tiff

tiff

It’s tiff time in Toronto.

No, no, not time for petty spats. Well, maybe those too, but not just those, and not mainly those. It’s an annual tittup for theophanies from the film firmament to titivate and do tipples over tiffin (or breakfast whether or not at Tiffany’s), and for hoi polloi to seek and watch and adulate. Yes, it’s the Toronto International Film Festival, or TIFF for short – or, as their wordmark has it, tiff. It’s a breeze blowing through Toronto for a week and a half – a breath of fresh air? More like a gust of glamour, a puff of applause… a mistral of massive lines, a piteraq of paparazzi-ism…

You go to see motion pictures, of course. I think it’s best to see things you can’t see any other time. Why spend so much more money and stand in a huge line to see a film that will be in your local theatre in three weeks? Yes, yes, there’s the Q&A with the director, if you happen to be at a screening where that’s included. And you might glimpse a star. But really, you can get Q&A at a showing of a movie that won’t be in your local theatre next week, or ever. And how, exactly, is seeing actors walking fifty feet away while assorted adolescents scream in your ears better than seeing them on screen doing what they do best? Well, if you want it, you know where to get it. I prefer watching the people who are there to watch the people. And watching the movies.

Tiff is not such a bad word for it. When it started, it was called the Festival of Festivals (because it was to be the best films from other film festivals); in 1994, it got its present name. It may be a name that brings to mind petty fights – the word tiff meant ‘spat’ or ‘dispute’ probably comes from imitation of a puff of air – but it had other senses too, mostly no longer used. It could mean ‘dress up nicely’ – related to titivate. It could also mean ‘have a light drink’ or ‘sip a drink’ or, as a noun, ‘weak liquor’; it is probably from this, in particular from tiffing, that the English of India and environs got the word tiffin, meaning ‘lunch’. So yes: titivate and do tipples over tiffin. As the stars do.

We’ve seen one movie so far, and will see a few more. But while it’s nice to take in pictures, I also like taking pictures. Not of stars, but of planets: everyone and everything in orbit around the stars (and mooning over them). People can be so interesting to look at. TIFF is a great place for taking pictures of people taking pictures of people. Here’s a photo album I’ve started on Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/sesquiotic/albums/72157658469724426

Here are a couple of photos from it of people standing around in the rain hoping to see a star of the silver screen:

iff

Last week in Toronto was tiff week.

By which I do not mean people were getting into lots of small spats. In Toronto everyone knows tiff – or TIFF – is the Toronto International Film Festival. And for a whole week, movies and long lines go together with a force of mutual implication: if there is one of them, there will be the other, and vice versa. To put it another way, there will be a movie if and only if there is a massive line in which people wait for hours. Which means, conversely, there will be a massive line iff there is a movie.

Iff? That’s logic shorthand for if and only if. Obviously when you’re speaking it doesn’t really work; we would have to hold the [f] for much longer to make it clear it was double, and a lot of people still wouldn’t get it, because that’s not the only place where we hold a [f] extra long. (We cannot say “we hear [f:] iff we hear ‘iff’.”) But in print, in books dealing with logic, it’s handy.

You also can’t say you see iff in print iff it means ‘iff’. It shows up in many words – indeed, it has almost a pseudo-morpheme status: it looks like an ending like ing or ed or est, but it’s just the way we write words that end with [ɪf], and those come from all sorts of places – some from Germanic sources, many from French words that end in if that may in turn come from Latin ivus or ifex or similar.

I do like the look of iff. It presents wheat stalks blowing in the wind, or perhaps alfalfa – or feathers and a candle, or even three candles of which two have been blown out. All of these images suggest the susurrus of the sound, with that second-softest of consonants, a bit stiffer than the breath of /h/ but still a mere whiffle as of corduroys shuffling down a hall at night.

Perhaps they suggest a movie too, some offering at the latest tiff. If If was a flick at one time (as it was), why not Iff? Now, what might the plot involve?

Perhaps it is set in Cardiff. A plaintiff, a sheriff, and a bailiff set off after a caitiff. The plaintiff is a bit of a Pecksniff and prone to take a niff (have a fit of pique) when all is not oojah-cum-spiff. The caitiff is a squiff (base fellow) who stiffed the plaintiff on a tariff and left in a jiff – jumped off a cliff and landed in a skiff and just took off. They sniff the goniff out – he’s smoking a spliff with a really spiff lass whose midriff would discomfit a pontiff – but as they’re about to biff him on the quiff they encounter his mastiff, which is as big as a hippogriff. It’s caught a whiff of them and it’s miffed. The ending is a riff on an old cliffhanger, a real standoff: the boat is headed for a reef and the plaintiff, sheriff, and bailiff will survive iff they let the caitiff dive off, leaving them with the mastiff. Sounds terrif, yes?

Hmm. Or maybe a little iffy.

iff

“Your honour,” said the plaintiff, “I’m no pontiff, but mister Cardiff, here held by the bailiff, is a real goniff.”

“Ah, go jump off a cliff,” shouted Cardiff, miffed. “Your honour, it was just a little tiff.”

“Tiff!” exclaimed the plaintiff. “You stiffed me! I bought a spliff from you, and when I complained it wasn’t the real stuff, you riffed on your supplier. But after I left, I came back and caught a whiff – you’d lit up in a jiff and were puffing away on a real reefer. When you had sloughed off chaff on me!”

“Oh, what’s the diff,” sniffed Cardiff. “We all got it tough.”

“Gentlemen,” interrupted the judge. “Given that selling and buying marijuana remains illegal in this jurisdiction, including soliciting such sales and purchases, the plaintiff must admit to a felony in order to make a complaint against the defendant. In short, mister Cardiff has commited a crime iff – if and only if – the plaintiff has. Does the plaintiff truly wish to pursue this action? …Do you get my drift?”

Ah, iff. By itself, a term from formal logic – meant for writing rather than saying – meaning “if and only if” (in other words, A iff B means that A and B inevitably go together – A is necessary and sufficient for B and vice-versa). But its form – a sound like a sniff, a huff, a good stiff cuff, or the sifting of chaff, and a shape like blowing wheat or puffing smokestacks – shows up at the ends of other words.

While it is not a proper morpheme, it does have a common origin in plaintiff and bailiff, tracing back to Latin ivus by way of French (it’s if in French): these are nouns indicating an action role. Pontiff also traces to Latin via French, but in this case it’s a shortening, from pontifex (French pontif). Nonetheless the word appears to be similarly a noun of role.

Goniff, which is one transliteration of the Yiddish for “swindler” or “thief”, may also be a noun of role, but its root is in Hebrew gannabh. Cardiff, which (aside from being a toponymic surname) is the English name of the capital of Wales, traces back to Welsh for “fort on the [river] Taff”.

But we do seem to like the double f rather than the single for the end of a word! It’s also standard for one-syllable words ending in a /f/ sound, whether they be clippings of longer words (diff, jiff; riff is from refrain), onomatopoeic or imitative formations (tiff, whiff, sniff, miff), good old Anglo-Saxon formations that just by arbitrary chance have the sound (stiff, cliff), or words the origin of which is uncertain (spiff, spliff). It’s simply an expected English pattern.

For all that, though, the word if has rarely been spelled as iff in English history, though it has had many spellings (gif or yif would be truer to its oldest form). And the logical operator iff “if and only if” has only been around for about a half a century. Aside from that, though it can produce impressions, it is not per se a morpheme – and it is certainly not the case that its presence has a necessary or sufficient relationship with some specific sense!