Saturday, February 7, 2026

Condign

Condign (pronounced kuhn-dahyn)

(1) Well-deserved; fitting; suitable; appropriate; adequate (usually now of punishments).

(2) As condign merit (meritum de condign), a concept in Roman Catholic theology signifying a goodness that has been bestowed because of the actions of that person

(3) As “Project Condign”, a (now de-classified) top-secret study into UFOs (unidentified flying objects, known also as UAPs (unidentified aerial phenomenon)) undertaken by the UK government's Defence Intelligence Staff between 1997-2000.

1375–1425: From the late Middle English condign, & condigne (well-deserved, merited) from the Anglo-French, from the Old French condign (deserved, appropriate, equal in wealth), from the Latin condignus (wholly worthy), the construct being con- + dignus (worthy; dignity), from the primitive from Indo-European root dek- (to take, accept).  .  The Latin con- was from the Proto-Italic kom- and was related to the preposition cum (with).  In Latin, the prefix was used in compounds (1) to indicate a being or bringing together of several objects and (2) to indicate the completeness, perfecting of any act, and thus gives intensity to the signification of the simple word.  It's believed the UK's MoD (Ministry of Defence) chose “Project Condign” as the name for its enquiry into UFOs (1) because (1) the military like code names which provide no obvious clue about the nature of the matter(s) involved and (2) in the abstract, it conveyed the notion the investigation would provide a measured, proportionate, and sober assessment of the issue (ie a response commensurate with the evidence, not an endorsement of unsubstantiated speculation or explanations delving into the extra-terrestrial or supernatural).  Condign is an adjective, condignity & condignness are nouns and condignly is an adverb; the noun plural is condignities.

In Middle English, condign was used of rewards as well as punishment, censure etc, but by circa 1700 it had come to be applied almost exclusively of punishments, usually in the sense of “deservedly severe”.  Thus used approvingly, the adjectival comparative was “more condign”, the “superlative “most condign”.  That means the synonyms included “fitting”, “appropriate”, “deserved”, “just”, “merited” etc with the antonyms being “excessive”, “inappropriate” & “undeserved”, the latter set expressed by the negative incondign.  However, a phenomenon in the language is that words which have, since their use in Middle English, undergone a meaning shift so complete as to render the original meaning obsolete, can in ecclesiastical use retain the original sense.  In the theology of the Roman Catholic Church, meritum de condigno (condign merit) is that due to a person for some good they have done.  As a general principle, it’s held to be applied to “merit before God”, the Almighty binding Himself, as it were, to reward those who do his will; a kind of holy version of social contract theory.  Among the more simple aspects of Christian theology, the conditions for condign merit are: (1) holding oneself in a state of grace and (2) performing morally good actions.  Not transferable, the beneficiary can be only the person who performs the good act with condign merit based on the revealed fact that God has promised such a reward and as a reward it’s accumulative, each individual condignly meriting an increase of the virtue of faith by every act of faith performed in the state of grace.

Pragmatic parish priests probably are inclined to explain condign merit as a way of encouraging kindness to others (linking it to the notion of “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” which is the essence of the Christian morality) but the theologians stress the significance of meritum de condign is it refers to merit based on justice rather than mere generosity of spirit.  It seems a fine distinction and doubtless is, both to doer of deed and beneficiary but, because the act is performed in a state of grace and is proportionate by God’s own ordinance to the reward promised, it’s a genuine claim based on justice, God rewarding such acts not out of mere benevolence but because freely He has so bound himself.

Project Condign: Unidentified Aerial Phenomena in the UK Air Defence Region (in three volumes).  It turns out they're not out there.

The theologians manage to add layers by stressing meritum de condign can apply only to an individual in a state of grace (and thus justified and acting under sanctifying grace); without grace, no strictly meritorious claim on God is possible.  God may still be generous, but the reward will be granted under another head of power.  Additionally, the act must freely be performed and motivated by charity (love of God); mere kindness in the absence of this love not reaching the threshold.  Unusually, the reward of condign merit is by virtue of a Divine promise, the “justice” not “natural” but “covenantal”, God having imposed upon himself the obligation of reward, therefore it would be incongruum (from the Latin, an inflection of incongruus (inconsistent, incongruous, unsuitable)) for him not to do so and unlike the state in the social contract, God regards Himself truly as bound and the proportion is by divine ordination (ie the proportion between act and reward exists only because God has established it; it is not intrinsic to the act itself.

In certain aspects, the comparison with later legal traditions is quite striking.  Condign merit can apply variously to (1) an increase in charity, (2) an increase of sanctifying grace and (3) heavenly glory (eternal life), insofar as it is the consummation of grace already possessed but crucially, even condign merit presupposes grace entirely: the grace that enables the act is itself unmerited.  In other words, God and the church expect a certain basic adherence and this alone is not enough to deserve condign merit.  The companion term is meritum de congruo (congruous merit) in which a fitting or appropriate reward may be granted but that will be based on God’s generosity rather than being the self-imposed obligation that is condign merit.  If searching for a metaphor, condign merit may be imagined as something given according to a salutatory schedule while congruous merit is more like an ex gratia (a learned borrowing from Latin ex grātiā (literally “out of grace”)) payment (a thing not legally required but given voluntarily).

Santo Tomás de Aquino (Saint Thomas Aquinas, 1476) ,egg tempera on poplar panel by Carlo Crivelli (circa 1430-circa 1495) in a style typical of religious portraiture at at time when some Renaissance painters were still much influenced by late Gothic decorative sensibility.  This piece was from the upper tier of a polyptych (multi-panelled altarpiece) which Crivelli in 1476 completed for the high altar of the church of San Domenico, Ascoli Piceno in the Italian Marche.

Even among the devotional, in the twenty-first century all that may sound mystical or a tiresome theological point but there was a time in Europe when many much were concerned about avoiding Hell and going to Heaven with the Medieval church was there to explain the rules and mechanisms.  The carefully crafted distinction was made by the Italian Dominican friar, philosopher & theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) in the Summa Theologiae (Summary of Theology, a work still unfinished by the time of the author’s death) and re-affirmed, essentially unaltered, during Session VI (Decree on Justification) of the Council of Trent (1545-1563).  In modern practice, priests don’t much bother their flock with Aquinas’s finely honed thoughts and instead exhort them to acts of kindness, rather than dwelling too much on abstractions like whether God will reward them by virtue of obligation or generosity, the important message being the Almighty remains sole source of both grace and reward, thus the importance to keep in a state of grace with him.

Google ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure): Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

So while it has always implied “deserved”, Roman Catholic theologians thus still use “condign” in the context of a “reward for goodness” but in secular use it has for centuries been associated only with punishment and, the more fitting the sentence, the more condign it’s said to be.  As Christianity in the twentieth century began its retreat from Christendom, condign became a rare word and some now list it as archaic although as late as 1926, in A Dictionary of Modern English Usage, Henry Fowler (1858–1933), no great friend of “decorative words and elegant variations” though it still worth a descriptive (and cautionary entry: “Condign meant originally ‘deserved’ and could be used in many contexts, with praise for instance as well as with punishment.  It is now used only with words equivalent to ‘punishment’, and means deservedly severe, the severity being the important point, and the desert merely a condition of the appropriateness of the word; that it is an indispensable condition, however, is shown by the absurd effect of: ‘Count Zeppelin’s marvellous voyage through the air has ended in condign disaster’”.

Boris Johnson (right) handling a prize bull (left), Darnford Farm, Banchory, Scotland September, 2019.

Quite what old Henry Fowler would have made of the way the language of Shakespeare and Milton is used on social media and the like easily can be imagined but he’d have been heartened to learn the odd erudite soul still finds a way to splice something like “condign” into the conversation.  One, predictably, was that scholar of Ancient Greek, Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) who, during his tumultuous premiership, needed to rise from his place in the House of Commons to tell honourable members that the withdrawal of the Tory Party whip (“withdrawal of the party whip” a mechanism whereby a MP (Member of Parliament) is no longer recognised as a member of their parliamentary party, even though in some cases they continue for most purposes to belong to the party outside the parliament) from a member accused of sexual misconduct was “condign punishment”.

Mr Johnson was commenting on the case of Rob Roberts (b 1979; MP for Delyn 2019-2024) and while scandal is nothing novel in the House of Commons (and as the matter of Lord Peter "Mandy" Mandelson (b 1953) illustrates, nor is it in the upper house), aspects of the Roberts case were unusual.  In 2021, an independent panel, having found Mr Roberts sexually had harassed a member of his staff recommended he should be suspended from parliament for six weeks.  The panel found he’d committed a “serious and persistent breach of the parliament’s sexual misconduct policy” and although the MP had taken “positive steps”, he’d demonstrated only “limited insight into the nature of his misconduct”, the conclusion being there remained concerns “he does not yet fully understand the significance of his behaviour or the full nature and extent of his wrongdoing.  Politicians sexually harassing their staff is now so frequent as to be unremarkable but what attracted some interest was that intriguingly, Mr Roberts had identified the problem and it turned out to be the complainant.  When alone together in a car on a constituency visit, the MP had said to him: “I find you very attractive and alluring and I need you to make attempts to be less alluring in the office because it's becoming very difficult for me.  So it was Mr Roberts who really was the victim and the complainant clearly made an insufficient effort to become “less alluring” because the MP later told the man the advance he had made in the car was “something I would like to pursue, and if you would like to pursue that too it would make me very happy”.  From there, things got worse for the victim (in the sense of the complainant, not the politician).

Official portrait of Rob Roberts, the former honourable member for Delyn.

Mr Roberts had “come out” as gay after 15 years of marriage, the panel noting he’d been “going through several challenges and significant changes in his personal life”, adding these “do not excuse his sexual misconduct”.  Despite his announcement, he also propositioned young female staff members (perhaps he should have “come out” as bisexual), suggesting to one they might: “fool around with no strings”, assuring her that while he “…might be gay… I enjoy … fun times”. In April 2021 the Conservative (Tory) Party had announced that the MP had been "strongly rebuked", but would not lose the whip. Apparently, at the time, it was thought sufficiently condign for him to “undertake safeguarding and social media protection training”.  The next month however, the panel handed down its recommendations and he was “suspended from the services of the house for six weeks”, subsequently losing the Tory whip and had his party membership suspended.  In a confusing coda, after (controversially) returning to the Commons in July 2021, he was re-admitted to the party in October 2021 but was denied the whip, requiring him to sit as an independent until the end of his term.  In the 2024 general election, he stood as an independent candidate in the new constituency of Clwyd East, coming last with 599 votes and losing his deposit.  Privately as well as politically, life for Mr Roberts has been discursive.  After in May 2020 tweeting he was gay and separating from his wife, in 2023, he re-married.

The word even got a run on Rupert Murdoch’s (b 1931) Fox News, an outlet noted more for short sentences, punchy words and repetition than words verging on the archaic but on what the site admitted was a “slow news day”, took the opportunity to skewer Jay Robert “J.B. Pritzker (b 1965, (Democratic Party governor of US state of Illinois since 2019), noting the part the wealth of the “billionaire heir to the Hyatt hotels fortune” had played in defeating a Republican opponent (it couldn’t resist adding that “money in politics” was something crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) “could tell you more about”).  Fox News’s conclusion was “…the shamelessness and even braggadocio with which Pritzker sought to buy the governorship could be a harbinger of things to come.  But, we suppose, having to serve as governor of Illinois is condign punishment for the offense…

In happier times: But wherever he is in the world, he remains my best pal!  Mandy’s (pictured here in dressing gown, tête-à-tête with Jeffrey Epstein) entry in the now infamous "birthday book", assembled for the latter’s 50th birthday in 2003.

The matter of condign punishment has in Westminster of late been much discussed because of revelations of the squalid behaviour of Mandy and his dealings with convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein (1953–2019).  Undisputedly, one of politics great networkers, Mandy’s long career in the Labour Party was noted not for any great contribution to national life (although he did good work in the project which was "New Labour" but whether he now should regard that a proud boast or admission of guilt he must decide) or achievements in policy development but blatant self-interest, conflicts of interest and repeated recovery from scandal; twice he was forced to resign from cabinet because of matters classed as “conflict of interest” and his whole adult life has been characterized by seeking association with rich men who, for whatever reason, seem to become anxious to indulge his desire to receive generous hospitality and large sums of cash.  Sir Tony Blair (b 1953; UK prime-minister 1997-2007), clearly seeing talent where many others did not, was most forgiving of Mandy’s foibles, twice re-appointing him to cabinet after decided a longer exile would be most incondign and famously once observed his "mission to transform the Labour party would not be complete until it had learned to love Peter Mandelson."  Even Gordon Brown (b 1951; UK prime-minister 2007-2010) who is believed to have existed in a state of mutual loathing with Mandy, was by 2008 in such dire political straits he brought him back to cabinet, solving the problem of finding a winnable seat in the Commons by appointing him to the upper chamber, the House of Lords.  While the presence of the disreputable in the Lords has a tradition dating back centuries, it was thought a sign of the times that Brown “ennobling a grub like Mandelson” to take a seat in the house, where once sat Wellington, Palmerston and Curzon, attracted barely an objection, so jaded by sleaze had the British public become.

Still, even by the standards of Mandy’s troubled past, what emerged from the documents released by the US DoJ (Department of Justice) was shocking.  Not only did it emerge Mandy had lied about the extent of his connections with Epstein but it became clear they had, despite his repeated denials, continued long after Epstein’s 2008 conviction in Florida on charges of soliciting and procuring a minor for prostitution for which he received an 18 month sentence.  So well connected in the Masonic-like UK Labour party was Mandy (and there have been amusing theories about how he has maintained this influence), it might have been possible to stage yet another comeback from that embarrassment but his life got worse when it was revealed large sums of cash had been passed to him (or the partner who later became his husband) by Epstein, transactions made more interesting still when it emerged Mandy appears to have sent to Epstein classified files to which he gained access by virtue of being a member of cabinet.  More remarkable still was Mandy, while a cabinet minister, appearing to operate as a kind of lobbyist in matter of interest to what was described as: “Mr Epstein and his powerful banking friends”.

In happier times, left to right: Tony Blair, Gordon Blair & Mandy (left).  In the early 1990s, detesting the Tory government, the press were fawning in their admiration and dubbed the trio "the three musketeers" but they came also to be called: "the good, the bad and the ugly, a collective moniker which may be generous to at least one of them.  There is no truth in the rumor the threesome provided the template for the personalities of the "plastics" in Mean Girls (2004, right) although the idea is tempting, reading left to right (works for either photograph): Karen Smith (Amanda Seyfried, b 1985): sincere, well meaning, a bit simple); Gretchen Wieners (Lacey Chabert, b 1982): insecure, desperately wanting to be liked) and Regina George (Rachel McAdams, b 1978): evil and manipulative). 

All this was revealed in E-mail exchanges during the GFC (Global Financial Crisis) which unfolded between 2008-2012 after the demise of US financial services firm Lehman Brothers (1850-2008), Mandy giving Epstein “advance notice” the EU (European Union (1993)), the multi-national aggregation which evolved from the EEC (European Economic Community), the Zollverein formed in 1957) would be providing (ie “creating”) a €500bn “bailout” to prevent the collapse of the Euro (the currency used by a number of EU states).  Those familiar with trading on the forex (foreign exchange) markets will appreciate the value of such secret information and, given the trade in global currency dwarfs that in equities, commodities and such, the numbers (and thus the profits and losses) are big.  Pleasingly, in the manner commercial arrangements often are, it was a two-way trade, representations to the UK and US Treasuries arranged in both directions.

Mandy also acted as Epstein’s advisor about “back channel” ways to influence government policy (ie the government of which he was at the time serving in cabinet) and political scientists probably would concede his advice was sage; he suggested to Epstein he should arrange for the chairman of investment bank J.P. Morgan to “mildly threaten” the UK’s chancellor of the exchequer (the finance minister).  What a cabinet minister is by convention (and implied in various statures) obliged to do is promote and defend government policy while assisting in its execution; should they not agree with that policy, they must resign from government.  Clearly, Mandy decided what is called “cabinet solidarity” was a tiresome inconvenience and in an attempt to change cabinet’s policy on a bankers’ bonus tax, made his suggestion which Mr Epstein must have followed because J.P. Morgan’s Jamie Dimon (b 1956; chairman and CEO (chief executive officer) of JPMorgan Chase since 2006) indeed did raise the matter with the chancellor although opinions might differ on whether what he said could be classed as “mildly threatening”.  In his memoir, Alistair Darling (1953–2023; UK Chancellor of the Exchequer 2007-2010) described a telephone call from Mr Dimon and recalled the banker was “very, very angry” about the plan, arguing “..his bank bought a lot of UK debt and he wondered if that was now such a good idea.  I pointed out that they bought our debt because it was a good business deal for them.  He went on to say they were thinking of building a new office in London, but they had to reconsider that now.  The lobbying didn’t change the chancellor’s mind and the bonus tax was imposed as planned.  Mandy can’t be blamed for that; he did his bit.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011.

Probably the most amusing of Mandy’s reactions to the revelations about his past related to payments he received from Epstein in 2003-2004 (US$75,000 to Mandy and Stg£10,000 to his partner Reinaldo Avila da Silva (the couple married in 2023)).  When late in January, 2026 he resigned from the Labour Party (it’s believed he’d been “tapped on the shoulder” and told he’d be expelled if no letter of resignation promptly was received), he used the usual line adopted these circumstances, saying he wished to spare the party “further embarrassment” and added: “Allegations which I believe to be false that he made financial payments to me 20 years ago, and of which I have no record or recollection, need investigating by me.  Few seemed to find plausible a man who has such a history of “money grubbing” could fail to recall US$75,000 suddenly being added to his bank balance and, unfortunately for Mandy, various authorities have decided the matters “need investigating by them”. 

In happier times: Mandy (left) with Sir Keir Starmer (right).

One who seems to be taking the betrayals personally is Sir Keir Starmer (b 1962; prime-minister of the UK since 2024) who appointed Mandy as the UK’s ambassador to the US, the prime minister making clear his outrage at the lies Mandy (more than once) told him and his staff during the (clearly inadequate) vetting process.  In one of his more truculent speeches, Sir Keir contrasting himself with Mandy, pointing out that while he’d come late to politics and entered the nasty business with the intention of trying to improve the country, he contrasted that high aim with the long career of Mandy who, it had become clear, viewed “climbing the greasy” pole of public office as a device for personal enrichment.  Hell hath no fury like a prime minister lied to.  Mandy has already resigned his seat in the Lords (now something separate from his possession of the life peerage conferred by Gordon Brown) although, all things considered, that probably was one of history’s less necessary letters.  However, as well as referring his allegedly nefarious conduct to the police and other investigative bodies, the government is said to be drafting legislation to eject Mandy from the Lords and strip him of his noble title: Lord Mandelson.  Given that over the past century odd members of the Lords have been jailed for conduct such as murder, perjury and what was in the statute of 1553 during the reign of Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) called “the detestable and abominable vice of buggery” yet not been stripped of their titles, the act will be a bit of a novelty but constitutional experts agree it’s within the competence of parliament, needing only the concurrence of both houses. Not since the passage of the Titles Deprivation Act (1917) have peerages been stripped and that statutory removal happened in the unusual circumstances of World War I (1914-1918) when it was thought the notion of Germans and Austrians holding British titles of nobility was not appropriate though it was a measure of the way the establishment resists change that the war had been raging three years before the act finally received royal assent.

The irony of a gay man becoming entangled in the scandals surrounding a convicted child sex trafficker who allegedly supplied men with under-age girls has been noted, some dwelling on that with unseemly relish.  More generally, although it was the English common law which established the principle of “innocent until proven guilty”, in parliament and beyond, the consensus seems already reached that Mandy is “guilty as sin”; it’s a question of to what extent and what’s to be done about it.  Over the past few decades, quite often the Labour Party apparatchiks have had to ponder: “What are we going to do about Mandy?” but this time it’s serious and there will be much effort devoted to combining “damage limitation” with what the baying mob will judge at least adequately condign.

Thursday, February 5, 2026

Allegro

Allegro (pronounced uh-ley-groh or uh-leg-roh or ahl-le-graw (Italian)).

(1) In music, a tempo mark directing that a passage is to be played in a quick, lively tempo, faster than allegretto but slower than presto.

(2) In music (more traditionally), an expressive mark indicating that a passage is to be played in a lively or happy manner, not necessarily quickly.

(3) In music, a piece or passage to be performed in this manner (an allegro movement).

(4) In printing & typography, as the font Allegro, a serif typeface released in 1936 (initial upper case).

(5) In the history of the internet's lists of "the worst cars ever made", British Leyland's Austin Allegro (1973-1982) (initial upper case).

(6) In Italian use, a male given name (initial upper case).

1625–1635: From the Italian allegro (lively; happy, cheerful (feminine allegra, masculine plural allegri, feminine plural allegre, superlative allegrissimo)), from the French allègre, from the Latin alacer (nominative alacer) (lively, cheerful, brisk) (from which English later picked up alacrity).  The Italian allegretto (diminutive of allegro) in musical composition is the instruction to be (brisk & sprightly but not so quick as allegro) was coined in 1740 explicitly for its technical purpose in music and the alternative form was the adverb allegro non troppo, the construct being allegro (fast) + non (not) + troppo (too much), thus understood as "play fast but not too fast".   As well as the native Italian and the English allegro, composers in many languages use the term including in French allegro (the post-1990 spelling allégro), the Greek αλέγρος (alégros) & αλλέγκρο (allégkro), the Norwegian allegro, the Portuguese allegro (the alternative spelling alegro), the Turkish allegro and the Persian آلگرو.  Allegro is a noun, adjective & adverb; the noun plural is allegros (Initial upper case if used of the cars of appropriately named Italian males).

Use as a musical term seems not to have been recorded until 1721.  Prior to that, since the early seventeenth century, English had used the word in the sense (brisk, sprightly; cheerful) picked up from Italian and Latin although the original spelling in English was aleger (lively, brisk) from Old French alegre, influenced by the Medieval Latin alacris.  What encouraged use was the adoption of the word (in its literal sense) by John Milton (1608–1674) who included the poem L'Allegro" in his collection Poems (1645); L'Allegro (The happy man) was a pastoral poem and critics regarded it as a companion piece for his Il Penseroso (The melancholy man), a work which in some ways anticipated the Romantic movement of the early nineteenth century.  The literary use extended to the term "allegro speech" (a relatively fast manner of speaking), once often used as a stage notation by playwrights although it seems now less common, replaced by terms better known to the young.  This fragment from Milton's L'Allegro is illustrative of the piece's rhythm and movement:

Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful Jollity,
Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods, and becks, and wreathbd smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it as you go
On the light fantasric roe.


Lindsay Lohan merchandize on allegro.pl, a Polish e-commerce site. 

The site presumably settled on "allegro.pl" to convey the idea of speed (fast service, fast delivery etc).  Although the word allegro was never absorbed into the Polish language, because it appeared with such frequency in augmenting musical notation, it’s a familiar form throughout Europe.  Polish composer Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849) used it as a title for Allegro de concert in A major, Opus 46 and his work also included three “allegro” movements: Allegro maestoso (the first movement of the Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor, Opus. 11), Allegro vivace (the third movement of the Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor, Opus 11) and Allegro vivace (the third movement of the Piano Concerto No. 2 in F minor, Opus 21).  In an appalling example of an attempt at normative moral relativism, while on trial before the International Military Tribunal (IMT) at Nuremberg (1945-1946), Hans Frank (1900–1946; Nazi lawyer and governor of the General Government (1939-1945) in German-occupied Poland during World War II) suggested that in mitigation for his direct complicity in mass-murder, he should receive some credit for establishing the Chopin Museum in Krakow, something “the Poles had never done”.

Voraciously corrupt (even by Nazi standards), Frank was protected by virtue of his past service as Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) personal lawyer and remained in his palace until the military collapse of the General Government in 1945; under his rule, some four million were murdered.  Remarkably, he handed to the Allies dozens of volumes of his highly incriminating diaries and the IMT found him guilty under Count 2 (War Crimes) & Count 3 (Crimes Against Humanity), sentencing him to death by hanging.  His response to the sentence was to say: “I expected it, I deserved it”, adding: “A thousand years will pass and still this guilt of Germany will not have been erased.”  The latter sentiment he recanted while awaiting execution, suggesting the trial had provided something of a cleansing effect but at the time most regarded that as cynically as they noted the rediscovery of his long abandoned Roman Catholic faith.  Although power corrupted him and led him down a path to depravity, Frank never quite lost his respect for the idea of the rule of law and its fundamental importance in a civilized society but was not in his mind able to resolve the conflict between the legal mystique in which he’d been trained and the reality of the Führerstaat (Führer state) in which the word of Hitler was the law.  Frank did attempt to build a framework in which the many contradictions could be reconciled but soon was made to understand his mental gymnastics would (rightly) be thought mere legal sophistry and anyway be ignored by those in the state who held authority.  Awaiting trial, he told one interrogator Hitler’s lack of reverence for the law was the “one defect in this great man” and regretted he’d never been able to change the Führer’s view he “would not rest until Germans realize it is shameful to be a lawyer.

The Allegro typeface by German graphic artist Hans Bohn (1891–1980)

Although book burning infamously was associated with the era, much publishing was still done in Germany during the 1930s and the centre of the industry was Frankfurt.  In 1936, the city’s Ludwig & Mayer type foundry released the Allegro typeface which was in the tradition of Didone style which became popular in the nineteenth century but influenced also by art deco designs which had flourished during the inter-war years (1919-1939).  A serif design which relied for its impact on the alternation of thick and thin strokes, it used breaks in the letter where thin strokes might be expected, hinting at the style of stencils with a touch of the inclination associated with calligraphy.  It was a popular typeface for decorative purposes such as book jackets or headings of musical notation but, very much a display font, it worked well only above a certain point size and thus was used at scale, almost exclusively for titles.

The Ford Allegro

Ford Allegro concept cars: 1963 (left & centre) and the 1967 Allegro II (right).

Ford’s Allegro was a concept car developed between 1961-1962 which was well-received during its time on the show circuit, viewers much taken by the dramatic interior which included a cantilever-arm, movable steering wheel with an electronic memory unit and adjustable pedals, features which would appear in production cars within a decade.  Built on the unibody platform of the compact Falcon which had been introduced in 1959, it was powered by a V4 manufactured by Ford’s European operation in Cologne, FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany, 1949-1990).  Noting the use in music, the company settled on the “Allegro” name to convey the idea of “brisk and lively performance” but company documents confirm the team responsible for such things pondered “Avventure” and “Avanti” before settling on “Allegro”.  The more obviously speculative Allegro II was displayed in 1967 and a number of the design motifs from both would appear on subsequent Fords as well as Chevrolet’s Vega (1970-1977) and second generation Camaro(1970-1981).

The Austin Allegro

Aesthetic success & failure: The Alfa-Romeo Alfasud (left) and the Austin Allegro (right).

Often featured (usually with several other products of British Leyland in the 1970s) in lists as among the worst cars ever made, the Austin Allegro was in production between 1973-1982 and actually sold in respectable numbers for most of that time although at only a third the rate of its remarkably popular predecessor (ADO16, the Morris 1100/1300 and its five badge-engineered siblings (Austin, MG, Wolseley, Riley & Vanden Plas).  One much criticized aspect of the Allegro was the appearance; it was thought a bloated blob in an era of sharp-edges and wedges and the critique does illustrate just how narrow can be the margin between success and failure in the execution of a concept.  The Alfa Romeo Alfasud (1971-1983 (variants of the original produced until 1989)) adopted essentially the same shape and dimensions yet was praised as an elegant and well-balanced design.  Seen in silhouette, the shapes are similar yet in the metal, the detail differences, a mere inch (25 mm) or two here and there or a subtle change in an angle or curve and one emerges lithe, the other ponderous.

Harris Mann’s 1968 conceptual sketch for the Allegro project.

The Allegro’s portly appearance wasn’t the original intent.  Tasked with designing a replacement for ADO16, the stylist Harry Mann (1938-2023) sketched a modernist wedge, designed to accommodate what was at the time an advanced specification which included all-independent hydraulic suspension, front wheel drive, disk brakes and crucially, new, compact engines.  Mann however began the project while employed by BMC (British Motor Corporation of which Austin was a part) but by the time substantive work on the Allegro began, BMC had been absorbed into the Leyland conglomerate, a sprawling entity of disparate and now competing divisions which, if agonizingly reorganized, might have succeeded but such were the internal & external obstacles to re-structuring that, coupled with political turmoil and the economic shocks of the 1970s, it staggered to failure, something the later nationalization could only briefly disguise.  Mann’s team learned the clean-lined wedge would have to be fattened-up because, not only were the old, tall, long-stroke engines to be re-used but the new units to be offered as options were bulkier still.

If installed at an angle (which would have demanded some re-engineering but would have been possible), that might have been manageable but what was not was the decision to use the corporate heater unit, developed at an apparently extraordinary cost; it could be installed just one way and it was a tall piece of machinery.  Allegro production ended in 1982 but what its appearance of all those "worst car ever" lists tends to obscure is it wasn't a commercial failure.  Although it sold only about a third the volume of its predecessor (the ADO16 ranges) which was for most of the 1960s the UK's best-selling car (and an export success, especially in New Zealand), the Allegro existed in a much more competitive market.  Essentially, the Allegro was nearly a very good car and had it been produced by an outfit less inept than British Leyland, it'd probably now be better-remembered.  While it's now sometimes dismissed as "all agro" ("agro" a slang form of "angry", the phrase meaning something like "nothing but trouble"), in its time the Allegro sold well and enjoyed a better than average reliability record.

1976 Triumph TR7 coupé (left) and 1980 Triumph TR8 convertible (right).  It is wholly emblematic of British Leyland that just as the TR8 had become a good car with much unexplored potential, production ceased. 

Mann didn’t forget his 1968 sketch and when the opportunity later came to design a new sports car, his wedge re-appeared as one of the cars which most represented the design ethos of the 1970s: The Triumph TR7 (1974-1981) & TR8 (1977-1982) which weren't quite trouble-free but which sold quite well and, as the TR8 (which used the 3.5 litre (215 cubic inch) Rover V8), represented something in which the potential of the original was finally realized but it was too late for by then the disaster that was British Leyland had eaten itself.  

1960 Plymouth Fury four-door hardtop (left), 1974 Austin Allegro 1750 Sport Special (centre) and 2024 Chevrolet Corvette Z06 coupe (right).

The Allegro is remembered also for a steering wheel which was neither circular yet not exactly square.  Dating back decades, the idea wasn’t novel and such things had in the early 1960s appeared of a few American cars but, fitted to the Allegro, it attracted much derision, something not diminished by Leyland’s explanation it afforded "an ideal view of the instruments".  Leyland also attracted the scorn of mathematicians when they called the shape “quartic” on the basis of it being “a square with rounded corners”.  However, technically, a quartic is “an algebraic equation or function of the fourth degree or a curve describing such an equation or function” while sqound (a portmanteau word, the construct being sq(uare) + (r)ound) is the ultimate niche word, the only known use by collectors of certain Chevrolet C4 Corvettes (1984-1996), describing the shift in 1990 from round to “a square with rounded corners” taillights.  Mathematicians insist the correct word for a "square with rounded corners" is "squircle" (in algebraic geometry "a closed quartic curve having properties intermediate between those of a square and a circle"), the construct being squ(are) +c(ircle).

Few etymologists (and certainly no lexicographers) appear to have listed sqound as a "real" word but it's of minor interest because as a rare example of a word where "q" is not followed by "u"; such constructs do exist but usually in the cases where initialisms have become acronyms such as Qantas (Queensland and Northern Territory Aerial Services).  Such words do appear in English language texts but they tend to be foreign borrowings including (1) qat (or khat) (a plant native to East Africa and the Arabian Peninsula, often chewed for its stimulant effects, (2) qi (a term from Chinese philosophy referring to life force or energy), qibla (the direction Muslims face when praying, towards the Kaaba in Mecca and (4) qiviut (the soft under-wool of the musk-ox, valued when making warm clothing).  For a while, Leyland pretended to ignore the pedants but within a year replaced the wheel with a conventional circular design.  Whatever the name, variations of the shape have since become popular with high-end manufacturers, Ferrari, Aston-Martin, Lamborghini and others all pursuing non-circular themes and one is a feature of the latest, mid-engined, C8 Chevrolet Corvette in which, unlike the despised Allegro, it's much admired.

How to make an Allegro look worse: 1976 Vanden Plas 1500, the variant coming too late to receive the quartic wheel.  The consensus among testers was the best place to enjoy a Vanden Plas 1500 was sitting inside, amid the leather and walnut, most readers drawing the inference that was because one wouldn't have to look at the thing.  One less charitable scribe described it as "mutton dressed up as hogget". 

In another sign of the times, unlike ADO16, one basic vehicle which was badge-engineered to be sold under six brands (Austin, Morris, Riley, Wolseley, MG & Vanden Plas with the Italian operation Innocenti among the overseas builders, some of which added "modernized" front and rear styling), the only variation of the Allegro was a luxury version by in-house coach-builder Vanden Plas (although there were Belgium-built Allegros and Leyland's Italian operation produced some 10,000 between 1974-1975 as the Innocenti Regent), laden with leather, cut-pile carpeting and burl walnut trim including the picnic tables so beloved by English coach-builders.  It didn't use the Allegro name and has always elicited condemnation, even from those who admired the Vanden Plas ADO16, presumably because the traditional upright grill attached to the front suited the earlier car's lines whereas the version which had to be flattened to fit the Allegro's pinched, pudgy nose was derided as coming from the hand of a vulgarian.  Still, there's clearly some appeal because the Vanden Plas cars have the highest survival rate of all Allegros and now enjoy a niche (one step below the GDR's (Deutsche Demokratische Republik (German Democratic Republic; the old East Germany, 1949-1990) Trabant (the infamous "Trabbi")) on the bottom rung of the collector car market.  One thing which may disappoint collectors is the Vanden Plas 1500 & 1750 (1974-1982) never used the "quartic" steering wheel although a photograph of one so-equipped did appear in the early brochures, printed before the decision in mid-1974 to replace it with a conventional (circular) design.  The photograph was of what the the industry calls a "final pre-production prototype", a common practice.

Leyland's other misadventure in 1973: The P76     

The antipodean Edsel1973 Leyland P76 Super V8.

Although 1973 was the last “good year” for the “old” UK economy and one during which British Leyland was looking to the future with some optimism, the corporation’s troubles that year with steering wheels were, in retrospect, a harbinger.  In addition to the Allegro, also introduced in 1973, on the other side of the planet, was the P76, a large (then a “compact” in US terms) sedan which Leyland Australia hoped would be competitive with the then dominant trio, GMH’s (General Motors Holden) Holden, Ford’s Falcon and Chrysler’s Valiant, the previous attempts using modified variants of UK models less than successful although the adaptations had been both imaginative and achieved at remarkably low cost.  Whatever the hope and dreams, publicly, Leyland Australia kept expectations low, claiming the target was nothing more than a 10% market share and the initial reception the P76 received suggested this might more than be realized, the consensus of press reports concluding the thing was in many aspects at least as good as the opposition and in some ways superior, the country’s leading automotive periodical that year awarding the V8 version the coveted CotY (Car of the Year) trophy.  

The answer to the question nobody asked: 44 gallon drum in a P76 boot.  In fairness, the marketing gimmick was a device to illustrate the car had "a bigger boot than the competition" rather than an indication many buyers routinely (if ever) carted such a thing but it soon became a matter of ridicule.

Unfortunately, the circumstances of 26 June 1973 when the P76 was launched didn’t last, the first oil crisis beginning some four months later which resulted in a spike in the price of oil which not only suddenly dampened demand for larger cars but also triggered what was in the West then the most severe and longest-lasting recession of the post-war years.  Some basic design flaws and indifferent quality control contributed to the debacle which is now remembered as the Australian industry’s Edsel and in October 1974 production of the P76 ended; Leyland closed its Australian manufacturing facilities, never to re-open.  Not even the much-vaunted ability of the P76 effortlessly to carry a 44 (imperial) gallon (53 US gallon; 205 litre) drum in its trunk (boot) had been enough to save the outpost of the old empire.

1973 P76 with the original (sharp-edged) steering wheel (left) and the later version, designed for the Force 7 (right) which was fitted also to the Targa Florio version released to celebrate a P76 setting the fastest time on the stage of the 1974 London–Sahara–Munich World Cup Rally held on the historic Targa Florio course in Sicily (in the rally, the P76 finished a creditable 13th).  The steering wheel was one of many flaws which were planned to be rectified (or at least ameliorated) in the "facelifted" version scheduled for 1975 but, before the end of 1974, the decision had been taken in London to axe the entire Leyland Australia manufacturing venture.    

Given the geo-political situation, rampant inflation and troubled industrial relations of the time, the P76’s steering wheel is really just a footnote in the sad tale but, like the Allegro’s “quartic” venture it was emblematic of the self-inflicted injuries to which Leyland would subject itself, both in the UK and its antipodean offshoot.  When the P76 made its debut in 1973, there was some comment that the steering wheel’s boss had a horn-pad in the shape of a boomerang, emphasizing its credentials as a locally developed product, but what was criticized was the rim which had bizarre, concave cross-section, meaning a quite sharp edge faced the driver, leaving an impression on the palms of the hands after only a few minutes driving.  The industry legend is the shape was a consequence of the typist (second wave feminism hadn't yet left the bookshelves and arrived in boardrooms so in 1973 it remained SOP (standard operating practice) to wherever possible "blame the woman") who prepared the final specification-sheet having mixed up “concave” & “convex” but even if true it’s remarkable such an obvious design-flaw wasn't rectified at the prototype stage.

Some have doubted the veracity of the story but such things do happen including in space.  The problems of the HST (Hubble Space Telescope, 1990) were a famous example and on 23 September, 1999, NASA (the US National Aeronautics and Space Administration) lost the US$125 million Mars Climate Orbiter spacecraft after its 286-day journey to Mars and that was a time when US$125 million was still a lot of money.  There was of course the inevitable review which found the craft’s directional thrusters had, over the course of several months, been incorrectly fired because the control data had been calculated in incorrect units.  The contractor (Lockheed Martin, responsible for the calculations) was sending data in Imperial measures (pounds) to NASA, while NASA's navigation team, expecting metric units, interpreted the numbers as Newtons.  As far as is known, neither contractor nor agency attempted to blame a typist.

1974 Leyland Force 7V.

Compounding the error on an even grander scale, Leyland even planned to release a P76 coupé.  Of the 60-odd built, only 10 of the prototype Force 7V coupés survived the crusher and although it offered the novelty of a practical hatchback, the styling was ungainly and the execution expensive (no external panels shared with the sedan, then the standard practice for such variants).  However, what was more critical was the very market segment for which it was intended was close to extinction and the five vehicles intended as its competitors (Ford's Falcon Hardtop & Landau, Holden's Monaro coupé and Chrysler's Valiant Hardtop & Charger) would be all dropped from production by 1978.  Even had the range survived beyond 1974, success would thus have seemed improbable although the company should be commended for having intended to name the luxury version the Tour de Force (from the French and translated literally as "feat of strength"), the irony charming although En dépit de tout (In spite of everything) might better have captured the moment.  Industry historians have long concluded that even had the P76 survived, the Force 7 would have been a short-lived failure.     

Seriously, the New Zealanders did, by at least the hundreds.

One darkly amusing footnote in the dismal decline and fall of the P76 is that between 1971-1976, Rover's highly regarded 3500 (P6B, 1968-1977) was assembled from CKD (completely knocked down) packs at the NZMC (New Zealand Motor Corporation) plant in Nelson, some 2,400 finished cars shipped to Australia.  To an economist that probably sounds an unexceptional trans-Tasman commercial transaction but in return, NZMC received from Leyland Australia CKD packs of P76 V8s to an equivalent NZ$ value.  Most concluded the Australians got the better part of the deal although the P76 is now a fixture in the lower reaches of the local collector market where they sell for rather more than 3500s so there's that.

There seems no publicly available record of how many CKD packs were shipped to New Zealand but a fully-assembled, ADR (Australian Design Rules) compliant 3500 would have had a higher book value than a CKD pack P76 of any specification so, given the retail pricing at the time, a ratio between 3-4:1 may be a reasonable guess, the labor component in any assembly a substantial part of the calculated value.  That means it must have been a partial exchange because however calculated, 650 CKD packs of P76s would be only a fraction the value of 2400 complete P6s.  During the mid 1970s, the NZ$-Aus$ exchange rate bounced between (roughly) 1.10-1.22 so, depending on contractual terms, that may also have influenced the two-way volumes.  By the mid-1970s the Bretton Woods system (1944-1973) of fixed exchange rates was over but Western countries still set rates in a system called a “managed float”, periodically using a “basket” of currencies (US$ the benchmark; cross-rates from the basket).  “Managed float” sounds an oxymoron but the process wasn’t wholly different from modern practice (the interplay of forex markets and central bank interventions).

GQ Magazine (British edition), September 1995.  GQ stands for "Gentleman's Quarterly" but perhaps, by the 1990s, there was some irony in the title.

While it may be unfair, the P6-P76 exchange may be compared with the “Seriously, would you trade her in for Paula Yates?” caption which appeared on the September, 1995 cover of the British edition of the periodical GQ, used for a photograph of an alluringly posed Helena Christensen.  The piece was a comment on the news Australian singer Michael Hutchence (1960–1997) had “traded in” Danish supermodel Helena Christensen (b 1968 and his long-time girlfriend) for English media personality Paula Yates (1959–2000), the unsubtle implication being Ms Christensen was rather more attractive than Ms Yates, GQ's view apparently that a woman's desirability should be determined on no other basis.  There are reasons the grimier end of English journalism gained its reputation.  

Paula Yates.

Many might make a similar point between the Rover P6 and the Leyland P76 although, like the two women, the pair do share some fundamental DNA, both V8s based on the original aluminium unit developed by GM (General Motors) for BOP (the corporation’s Buick, Oldsmobile & Pontiac divisions); not wholly suited to US use, GM produced the 215 cubic inch (3.5 litre) V8 only between 1960-1963 before selling the rights and tooling to Rover.  GM would come to regret that decision but nevertheless got good value from the design, similar engines with iron blocks used between 1964-1980 although the greatest benefit came from a V6 derivative which, in various forms in places around the world, was in continuous production between 1964-2008.  Best remembered as the long-serving “3800”, the V6 proved one of Detroit’s most robust, reliable and easily serviced engines.  For the P6, Rover used the original 3.5 litre configuration (although the company made the first of their many improvements) while Leyland Australia created a “tall deck” block and achieved a 4.4 litre (269 cubic inch) displacement with a perfectly square bore & stroke (both 88.9 mm (3.5 inch)).  Had the rest of the car been up to the standard of the 4.4, the P76 may have succeeded.

Helena Christensen.

Introduced in 1963 as the Rover 2000 (with a unique 2.0 litre (121 cubic inch) in-line four-cylinder engine), the P6 was one of the outstanding products of the post-war British car industry (genuinely, despite the perceptions of some, there were a few fine machines) with an advanced specification in a conveniently sized package.  It was the first ECotY (European Car of the Year) and all it needed was more power (a flirtation with enlarging the 2.0 to a 2.5 litre (151 cubic inch) in-line five aborted), that deficiency in 1968 addressed with the release of the 3500, the range in 1971 augmented by the 3500S (unrelated to the automatic 3500S sold briefly in the US) with a four-speed manual gearbox, the revised configuration making these P6s genuine 125 mph (200 km/h) cars.  Although by then a nearly decade-old platform, the 3500S impressed testers with it pace, the usual competence of the de Dion rear suspension and brakes which were state of the (pre-ABS) art; the fuel gauge also attracted comment, praised for its unusual accuracy. Regrettably, the P6's fine platform was under-exploited although the Swiss coach-builder Graber was among several which built nicely-executed coupés & cabriolets while in England there were the inevitable estates (station wagons) although the latter were not ascetically pleasing because of the need to follow the slope of the roof-line.  Along with much of the UK industry, Rover rather lost its way after the high water mark of the 3500.  

The Alfa Romeo Alfasud

The fate of many Alfasuds.

Sea water played a part in the story of the Alfasud.  The Alfasud name (the construct being Alfa + sud) was an allusion to it being produced in a newly built factory in the Naples region, the decision taken after financial inducements were offered by the government, anxious to do something about the levels of unemployment and lack of economic development in the south of the country.  The Italian sud (south) was from the French sud, from Old English suþ, from Proto-Germanic sunþrą.  As a plan it made sense to politicians and economists but, industrial relations being what they were at the time, the outcome was less than ideal.    

In one aspect, the Allegro and Alfasud (1971-1989) were wholly un-alike, the latter infamous for its propensity to rust, a trait shared with many mass-produced Italian cars of the era, the only consolation for Alfasud owners being the contemporary Lancia Beta suffered even more.  The Alfasud's rust-resistance did improve over the years but it remained a problem until the end of production and the industry story has always been that in the barter economy which was sometime conducted between the members of the EEC (European Economic Community (1957), the Zollverein that would evolve into the EU (European Union (1993)) and those of the Warsaw Pact (the alliance between the USSR and the satellite states within Moscow's sphere of influence which essentially duplicated the structure of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO, 1949)), Italian manufactured goods were exchanged for Russian steel which reputedly was re-cycled but anyway turned out to be of poor quality and essentially porous.  The story certainly is a good fit for the narrative of mal-administration and corruption that was Italy in the 1970s but subsequent research has revealed it to be a myth, the sheet metal used in the Neapolitan factory at Pomigliano d’Arco where Alfasuds were made the same stuff Alfa Romeo used in the facility at Arese in Milan where the Giulia range was produced and their reputation for resisting rust was good.  The evidence suggests all the steel used by the company's local operations came from the state owned Taranto steel mills and intriguingly, the factories south & north all used the same paints and the ovens & paint booths were a decade-odd newer in Naples.

Variations on the Alfasud theme: The Sprint (1976-1989, left) and Giardinetta (station wagon or estate-car) (1975-1980, right).

Given all that, the startlingly premature corrosion surprised many within Alfa Romeo and in 1977 a project-team was formed to investigate the causes and it was afforded some urgency given the reputational damage being suffered by the whole company (ie profits were suffering).  Having determined the core components (paint & steel) weren't to blame, the engineers deconstructed the production process including the system of movement (how the partially completed cars proceeded from start to finish).  What the team found was that while the electrophoresis baths at Pomigliano were state of the art, the inexperienced (and sometimes indifferently-minded) workforce operated them without adequate supervision and quality control, something exacerbated by the chronically bad labor relations, the factory beset by rolling strikes which meant unpainted bodies were often sitting for days.  In the humid climate of the south, condensation gathered, many cars already rusting even before eventually receiving a coat of paint and that the plant was less than 10 miles (16 km) from the coast and prevailing winds blew from the sea added to the problem, the unpainted Alfasuds often for days sitting unpainted accumulating salty moisture.

1983 Alfa Romeo Alfasud Ti Quadrifoglio Verde (Green Cloverleaf), one of the industry's longer model names and clipped usually to "Alfasud QV".

The team's findings resulted in a change to the production process for the revised Series 2 Alfasuds launched in December 1977.  The critical parts of the bodyshell now used "Zincrometal" (steel coated with a primer) which was a mix of chromium, zinc and an organic bonding resin, baked at 160°C (320°F) which was as good as anything used in the industry.  As a added precaution, a polyurethane foam was injected into the body's boxed sections with a flexible plastic sealant applied at the seams to prevent moisture intrusion.  That had the added benefit of reducing noise vibration & harshness (NVH) while adding only a little extra weight.  Unfortunately, the tests the engineers conducted to prove the design was waterproof relied on perfectly applied sealant at the junctions but the poor quality control continued and many seams were improperly sealed which meant the foam acted as a moisture store, making the problem worse.  By contrast, whatever its other faults (and there were a few), the Allegro resisted rust like few cars built anywhere during the era, the design sound and that 1970s British Leyland paint thick and durable.  In the years that followed, many would criticize the sometimes lurid and even sickly shades but as a protective coating, it did the job.

Ultimate Alfasud: The Giocattolo (left), the world's best Alfa Romeo Sprint which included the world’s best tool kit (right).  Unrelated to either, Il giocattolo (the Toy, 1979) was an Italian film noir from the Anni di piombo (Years of Lead) era, directed by Giuliano Montaldo (1930-2023).

The much admired coupé variant of the Alfasud was sold as the Alfasud Sprint (1976-1983) and Sprint (1983-1989); it proved rather more rust resistant.  It was subject to continuous product improvement and fitted with progressively bigger and more powerful engines although none were larger than 1.7 litres (104 cubic inches) which limited its use in competition to events where outright speed mattered less than balance and agility.  The handling was about as good as FWD (front wheel drive) then got and in events such as hill climbs the things are competitive even today.  However, rising to the challenge, between 1986-1989, an Australian company solved the two problems afflicting the Sprint (FWD & lack of power).  Thus the Giocattolo (a play on the Italian word meaning “toy”), a batch of 15 built in the Queensland coastal town of Bundaberg before the economic downturn (remembered locally as "the recession we had to have", the then treasurer's (Paul Keating (b 1944; Prime Minister of Australia 1991-1996)) rationalization of why it was essential to kill off the inflation which had become entrenched in the mid 1970s) ended the fun.  The Giocattolo was fitted with a mid-mounted 304 cubic inch (5.0 litre) Holden V8, driving the rear wheels through a ZF five-speed transaxle, the combination yielding a top speed of 160 mph (257 km/h), a useful increase of 40 mph (65 km/h) over the fastest of the factory's Sprints.  As impressive as the mechanical specification was, the Giocattolos are remembered also for the unusual standard feature of a 375 ml bottle of Bundaberg Rum (the region's most famous product which began as a way to use a waste-product of sugar-cane processing) and two shot glasses as part of the toolkit.  Many who worked on Italian cars probably thought they deserved a drink so it was a good idea but these days, a company would risk being cancelled for such a thoughtful inclusion.