{"id":1730,"date":"2024-07-16T11:23:06","date_gmt":"2024-07-16T11:23:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dummy.xtemos.com\/woodmart2\/furniture2-gutenberg\/?p=147"},"modified":"2026-07-26T19:22:19","modified_gmt":"2026-07-26T19:22:19","slug":"here-comes-autumn","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/nutandnote-hamburg.eu\/en\/here-comes-autumn\/","title":{"rendered":"Here comes autumn"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

So how did the classical Latin become so incoherent? According to McClintock, a 15th century typesetter likely scrambled part of Cicero\u2019s De Finibus in order to provide placeholder text to mockup various fonts for a type specimen book. It\u2019s difficult to find examples of lorem ipsum in use before Letraset made it popular as a dummy text in the 1960s, although McClintock says<\/a> he remembers coming across the lorem ipsum passage in a book of old metal type samples. So far he hasn\u2019t relocated where he once saw the passage, but the popularity of Cicero in the 15th century supports the theory that the filler text has been used for centuries.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Don\u2019t bother typing \u201clorem ipsum\u201d into Google translate. If you already tried, you may have gotten anything from \u201cNATO\u201d to \u201cChina\u201d, depending on how you capitalized the letters. The bizarre translation was fodder for conspiracy theories, but Google has since updated its \u201clorem ipsum\u201d translation to, boringly enough, \u201clorem ipsum\u201d. One brave soul did take a stab at translating the almost-not-quite-Latin.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

According to The Guardian, Jaspreet Singh Boparai undertook the challenge with the goal of making the text \u201cprecisely as incoherent in English as it is in Latin \u2013 and to make it incoherent in the same way\u201d. As a result, \u201cthe Greek \u2018eu\u2019 in Latin became the French \u2018bien\u2019 [\u2026] and the \u2018-ing\u2019 ending in \u2018lorem ipsum\u2019 seemed best rendered by an \u2018-iendum\u2019 in English.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Find Your Focus While Working<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

As an alternative theory, (and because Latin scholars do this sort of thing) someone tracked down a 1914 Latin edition of De Finibus which challenges McClintock\u2019s<\/a> 15th century claims and suggests that the dawn of lorem ipsum was as recent as the 20th century. The 1914 Loeb Classical Library Edition ran out of room on page 34 for the Latin phrase \u201cdolorem ipsum\u201d (sorrow in itself). Thus, the truncated phrase leaves one page dangling with \u201cdo-\u201d, while another begins with the now ubiquitous \u201clorem ipsum\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Whether a medieval typesetter chose to garble a well-known (but non-Biblical\u2014that would have been sacrilegious) text, or whether a quirk in the 1914 Loeb Edition inspired a graphic designer, it\u2019s admittedly an odd way for Cicero to sail into the 21st century.<\/p>\n\n\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t