Snarge

Snarge (pronounced snn-arj)

(1) In military & civil aviation, slang, the remains of a bird after it has collided with an airplane (ie bird strike), originally of impacts with turbine engines but latterly applied also to residue left on wings, fuselages etc.

(2) By adoption, the remains of birds and insects left on the windscreens of trains, cars, motorcycle fairings etc,

Early 2000s (probably): A portmanteau word, a blend of sn(ot) + (g)ar(ba)ge.  Snot (used here in the usual sense of “mucus, especially that from the nose”) was from the Middle English snot & snotte, from the Old English ġesnot & snott, from the Proto-West Germanic snott & snutt, from the Proto-Germanic snuttuz (nasal mucus), from the same base as snout and related to snite.  It was cognate with the North Frisian snot (snot), the Saterland Frisian Snotte (snot), the West Frisian snotte (snot), the Dutch snot (snot), the German Low German Snött (snot), the dialectal German Schnutz (snot), the Danish snot (snot) and the Norwegian snott (snot).  Trans-linguistically, “snot” is commendably consistent and its other uses (a misbehaving (often as “snotty”) child; a disreputable man; the flamed-out wick of a candle all reference something unwanted or undesirable).  That said, snot (mucus) is essential for human life, being a natural, protective, and lubricating substance produced by mucous membranes throughout the body to keep tissues moist and act as a barrier against pathogens and irritants like dust and allergens, working to trap foreign particles; it also contains antimicrobial agents to fight infection.  So, when “out-of-sight & out-of-mind” it’s helpful mucus but when oozing (or worse) from the nostrils, it’s disgusting snot.

Garbage (waste material) was from the late Middle English garbage (the offal of a fowl, giblets, kitchen waste (though in earlier use “refuse, that which is purged away”), from the Anglo-Norman, from the Old French garber (to refine, make neat or clean), of Germanic origin, from the Frankish garwijan (to make ready).  It was akin to the Old High German garawan (to prepare, make ready) and the Old English ġearwian (to make ready, adorn).  The alternative spelling was garbidge (obsolete or eye dialect).  Garbage can be used of physical waste or figuratively (ideas, concepts texts, music etc) judged to be of poor quality and became popular in computing, used variously to mean (1) output judged nonsensical (for whatever reason), (2) corrupted data, (3) memory which although allocated was no longer in use and awaiting de-allocation) or (4) valid data misinterpreted as another kind of data.  Synonyms include junk, refuse, rubbish, trash & waste.  Charlie Chaplin (1889–1977) used “Herr Garbage” as the name of the character who in The Great Dictator (1940) represented Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945).  Snarge is a noun and no derived forms have ever been listed but a creature which has become snarge would have been snarged and the process (ie point of impact) would have been the act of snarging.  Snarge is inherent the result of a fatality so an adjective like snargish is presumably superfluous but traces of an impact which may not have been fatal presumably could be described as snargelike or snargesque.

Dr Carla Dove at work in the Smithsonian's Feather Identification Laboratory, Washington DC.

The patronymic Dr Carla Dove (b 1962) is manager of the Feather Identification Laboratory at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of Natural History in Washington DC where she heads a team identifying the types or species of birds that collide with military and civil aircraft.  She calls snarge “a term of art” (clearly she’s of the “eye of the beholder” school) and notes that although the scientific discipline of using snarge to determine the species involved in bird strikes began at the Smithsonian in 1960, the term doesn’t seem to have been coined there and its origin, like much slang with a military connection, is murky.  Although a 2003 article in Flying Safety magazine is sometimes cited as the source of the claim the word was “invented at the Feather Identification Laboratory”, Dr Dove is emphatic the staff there “borrowed it” from preparators (the technicians who prepare bird specimens for display or other uses by museums).  It certainly seems to have been in general use (in its specialized niche in military & aviation and wildlife safety circles) by at least the early-to-mid 2000s and the zeitgeisters at Wired magazine were in 2005 printing it without elaboration, suggesting at least in their editorial team it was already establish slang.  So, it may long have been colloquial jargon in museums or among those working in military or civil aviation long before it appeared in print but there no documentary evidence seems to exist.

The Feather Detective: Mystery, Mayhem, and the Magnificent Life of Roxie Laybourne (2025) by Chris Sweeney.

The origin of the scientific discipline is however uncontested and the world’s first forensic ornithologist was the Smithsonian’s Roxie Laybourne (1910–2003).  In October, 1960, a Lockheed L-188 Electra flying as Eastern Airlines Flight 375 out of Boston Logan Airport had cleared the runway by only a few hundred feet when it flew into a flock of birds, the most unfortunate of which damaged all four engines, resulting in a catastrophic loss of power, causing the craft to nosedive into Boston Harbor, killing 62 of the 72 aboard.  Although the engines were turbo-props rather than jets, they too are highly susceptible to bird-strike damage.  At the time, this was the greatest loss of life attributed to a bird-strike and the FAA (Federal Aviation Authority) ordered all avian remains be sent to the Smithsonian Institution for examination.  There, Ms Laybourne received  the box of mangled bone, blood & feathers and began her investigation, her career taking a trajectory which would include not only the development of protocols designed to reduce the likelihood of bird strikes damaging airliners but also involvement with the USAF (US Air Force) & NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration).  Additionally, her work with the FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation) and various police forces proved forensic ornithology could be of use a diagnostic tool in crime-solving; her evidence helping to convict murderers, kidnappers and poachers.  In 2025, journalist Chris Sweeney published The Feather Detective: Mystery, Mayhem, and the Magnificent Life of Roxie Laybourne, a vivid telling of the tale of a woman succeeding in a world where feminism had not yet wrought its changes.

Snarge on the nosecone of a Cessna Citation, Eisenhower Airport, Wichita, Kansas, July 2021.  The dent indicates the point of impact, the airflow holding the corpse in place.  By the time of landing, the leaked body fluids had congealed to act as a kind of glue.

The study of aviation bird strikes is obviously a specialized field but snarge has come also to be used in the matter of insect deaths, specifically what has come to be called the “windscreen phenomenon” (also as “windshield phenomenon” depending on linguistic tradition).  What that refers to is the increasingly common instances of people reporting they are seeing far fewer dead insects on the windscreens of their cars, many dating the onset of the decline to the late 1990s and the most common explanations offered for this are (1) climate change, (2) habitat loss and (3) the increasing use (or potency) of pesticides.  Individual observations of one’s windscreen now tending to accumulate less snarge than in years gone by is of course impressionistic and caution must be taken not to extrapolate the existence of a global trend from one piece of glass in one tiny part of the planet: what needs to be avoided is a gaboso (the acronym for Generalized Association Based On Single-Observation (also as the derived noun & verb) which is the act of taking one identifiable feature of someone or something and using it as the definitional reference for a group (it ties in with logical fallacies).  However, the reports of increasingly snargeless windscreens were widespread and numerous so while that didn’t explain why it was happening, it did suggest that happening it was.

There was also the matter of social media platforms which have meant the volume of messages about a particular topic in the twenty-first century is not comparable with years gone by.  It’s simply impossible to calculate the extent to which these mass-market (free) platforms have operated as an accelerant (ie a force-multiplier of messaging) but few doubt it’s a considerable effect.  Still, it is striking the same observations were being made in the northern & southern hemispheres and the reference to the decline beginning in the late 1990s was also consistent and a number of studies in Europe and the US have found a precipitous drop in insect populations over the last three decades.  One interesting “quasi theory” was the improved aerodynamic efficiency of the modern automobile meant the entomological slaughter was reduced but quickly aeronautical engineers debunked that, pointing out a slippery shape has a “buffer zone” very close to the surface which means "bugs" have a greater chance of being sucked-in towards the speeding surface because of the differential between negative & positive pressure.  However, on most older vehicles, the “buffer zone” could be as much as 3 feet (close to a metre) from the body.  A bug heading straight for the glass would still be doomed but the disturbed air all around would have deflected a few

Lindsay Lohan with Herbie in Herbie: Fully Loaded (2005).

Herbie was a 1963 Volkswagen Type 1 (Beetle, 1938-2003) and despite the curves which made it look streamlined, its measured Cd (drag coefficient) was typically around 0.48-0.50, some 8% worse than contemporary vehicles of comparable frontal area.  What that meant was its buffer zone would extend somewhat further than the “New Beetle” (1997-2011) which had a Cd between 0.38-0.41, again not as good as the competition because it was compromised by the need to maintain a visual link with the way things were done in 1938.  On the 1963 models (like Herbie) the flat, upright windscreen created significant drag and was obviously a good device for “snarge harvesting” but the later curved screen (introduced in 1973 with the 1303) probably didn’t spare many insects.

Dr Manu Saunders' graphic example of insect snarge on a windscreen during the 2010 "locust plague" in western NSW (New South Wales), Australia, April 2010.

Dr Manu Saunders is a Senior Lecturer in Ecology and Biology and the School of Environmental and Rural Science in Australia’s UNE (University of New England) and she pointed out that “anecdata is not scientific evidence” and just because anecdotes are commonly presented as “evidence of global insect decline” (the so-called “insectageddon”), that doesn’t of necessity make locally described conditions globally relevant.  The problem she identified was that although there have been well-conducted longitudinal studies of snarge on windscreens using sound statistical methods, all have used data taken from a relatively small geographical area while around the planet, there are more than 21 million km (13 million miles, (ie more than 80 round trips to the Moon) of “roads”).  Dr Saunders does not deny the aggregate number of insects is in decline but cautions against the use of one data set being used to assess the extent of a phenomenon with a number of causal factors.

Still snarge-free: The famous photograph of the 25 917s assembled for inspection outside the Porsche factory, Stuttgart, 1969.  The FIA’s homologation inspectors declined the offer to test-drive the 25 which was just as well because, hastily assembled (secretaries, accountants and such drafted in to help), some of were capable of driving only a short distance in first gear.

Fortunately for Porsche, in 1969, although the decline in global insect numbers may already have begun, they were still buzzing around in sufficient numbers to produce the snarge which provided the necessary clue required to resolve the problem of chronic (and potentially lethal) instability which was afflicting the first 917s to be tested at speed.  In great haste, the 917 had been developed after the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the FIA; the International Automobile Federation and world sport's dopiest regulatory body) “relaxed” the rules which previously had set a threshold of 50 identical units for cars classified as Group 4 (5 litre (305 cubic inch)) sports cars, reducing this to a minimum of 25.  What that meant was Porsche needed to develop both a car and a twelve cylinder engine, both items bigger and more complex than anything they’d before attempted, things perhaps not overly challenging had the typical two years been available but the factory needed something which would be ready for final testing in less than half the time.  Remarkably, they accomplished the task in ten months.

Porsche 917 Chassis 001 in IAA (Internationale Automobil-Ausstellung (International Automobile Exhibition) Frankfurt Motor Show livery.

The brief gestation period was impressive but there were teething problems.  The fundamentals, the 908-based space-frame and the 4.5 (275 cubic inch) litre air-cooled flat-12 engine (essentially, two of Porsche’s 2.25 (137 cubic inch) litre flat-sixes joined together) were robust and reliable from the start but, the sudden jump in horsepower (HP) meant much higher speeds and it took some time to tame the problems of the car’s behaviour at high-speed.  Aerodynamics was then still an inexact science and the maximum speed the 917 was able to attain on Porsche’s test track was around 180 mph (290 km/h) but when unleashed on the circuits with long straights where over 210 mph (338 km/h) was possible the early 917s proved highly unstable, the tail “wandering from side-to-side” which, at around 200 mph (320 km/h), drivers found disconcerting.  The solution was delivered serendipitously: after one alarming high speed run, noticed that while the front and central sections of the bodywork were plastered with snarge, the fibreglass of the rear sections was a pristine white, the obvious conclusion drawn that while the airflow was inducing the desired degree of down-force on the front wheels, it was passing over the rear of body, thus the lift which induced the wandering.  Some improvisation with pieces of aluminium and much duct tape to create an ad-hoc, shorter, upswept tail transformed the behaviour and was the basis for what emerged from more extensive wind-tunnel testing by the factory as the 917K for Kurzheck (short-tail).  The rest is history.

Dodge Public Relations announces the world now has "spoilers".  Actually they'd been around for a while but, as Dodge PR knew, until it happens in America, it hasn't happened.

What happened to the 917 wasn’t novel.  In 1966, Dodge had found the slippery shape of its new fastback Charger had delivered the expected speed on the NASCAR ovals but it came at the cost of dangerous lift at the rear, drivers’ graphically describing the experience at speed as something like “driving on ice”.  The solution was exactly what Porsche three years later would improvise, a spoiler on the lip of the trunk (boot) lid which, although only 1½ inches (38 mm) high, at some 150 mph (240 km/h) the fluid dynamics of the air-flow meant sufficient down-force was generated to tame the instability.  Of course, being NASCAR, things didn’t end there and to counter the objection the spoiler was a “non-stock” modification and thus not within the rules, Dodge cited the “safety measure” clause, noting an unstable car on a racetrack was a danger to all.  NASCAR agreed and allowed the device which upset the other competitors who cited the “equalization formula clause” and demanded they too be allowed to fit spoilers.  NASCAR agreed but set the height at maximum height at 1½ inches and specified they could be no wider than the trunk lid.  That left Dodge disgruntled because, in a quirk of the styling, the Charger had a narrower trunk lid than the rest of the field so everybody else’s spoilers worked better which seemed unfair given it was Dodge which had come up with the idea.  NASCAR ignored that objection so for 1967 the factory added to the catalogue two small “quarter panel extensions” each with its own part number (left & right); once installed, the Charger gained a full-width spoiler.

Polka

Polka (pronounced pohl-kuh or poh-kuh)

(1) A lively couple dance of Bohemian origin, with music in duple meter (three steps and a hop, in fast duple time).

(2) A piece of music for such a dance or in its rhythm.

(3) To dance the polka.

(4) As polka-dot (sometimes polka dot or polkadot), a dot or round spot (printed, woven, or embroidered) repeated to form a pattern on a surface, especially textiles; a term for anything (especially clothing) with this design.

1844: From the French polka, from the German Polka, probably from the Czech polka, (the dance, literally "Polish woman" (Polish Polka), feminine form of Polak (a Pole).  The word might instead be a variant of the Czech půlka (half (půl the truncated version of půlka used in special cases (eg telling the time al la the English “half four”))) a reference to the half-steps of Bohemian peasant dances; it may even have been a merger of both.  The dance first came into vogue in 1835 in Prague, reaching London in the spring of 1842; Johann Strauss the younger (1825-1899) wrote many polkas.  Polka was a verb by 1846 as (briefly) was polk and notoriously, the fabric pattern sometimes is mispronounced as "poke-a-dot".  Polka is a noun & verb, polka, polka-dot & polkabilly are nouns and polka-like is an adjective; the noun plural is polkas.

Lindsay Lohan in polka-dot dress, Los Angeles, 2010.

Polka-dot (a pattern consisting of dots (usually) uniform in size and arrangement) is used especially on women’s clothing (men seem permitted accessories such as ties, socks, scarves, handkerchiefs etc) and is attested from 1851 although both polka-spot and polka-dotted are documented in 1849.  

Why the name came to be associated with the then widely popular dance is unknown but most speculate it was likely an associative thing, spotted dresses popular with the Romani (Roma; Traveller; Gypsy) girls who often performed the polka dance.  Fashion journals note that, in the way of such things, the fad faded fast but there was a revival in 1873-1874 and the polka-dot since has never gone away, waxing and waning in popularity but always there somewhere.

In fashion, it’s understood that playing with the two primary variables in polka-dot fabrics (the color mix and the size of the dots) radically can affect the appeal of an outfit.  The classic black & white combination of course never fails but some colors just don’t work together, either because the contrast in insufficient or because the mix produces something ghastly.  Actually, combinations judged ghastly if rendered in a traditional polka dot can successfully be used if the dots are small enough in order to produce something which will appear at most angles close to a solid color yet be more interesting because of the effect of light and movement.  However, once dots are too small, the design ceases to be a polka dot.  It’s not precisely defined what the minimum size of a dot need to be but, as a general principle, its needs to be recognizably “dotty” to the naked eye at a distance of a few feet.

Why Men Like Straight Lines and Women Like Polka Dots: Gender and Visual Psychology (2014) by Professor Gloria Moss.

There’s also the sexual politics of the polka dot, Gloria Moss, Professor of Marketing & Management at Buckinghamshire New University and a visiting professor at the Ecole Superieure de Gestion (ESG) in Paris exploring the matter in her book Why Men Like Straight Lines and Women Like Polka Dots: Gender and Visual Psychology (Psyche Books, 2014, pp 237).  An amusing mix which both reviews the academic literature and flavors the text with anecdotes, Dr Moss constructs a thesis in which the preferences of men and their designs lie in the origins of modern humanity and the need for hunters to optimize their vision on distant horizons while maintaining sufficient peripheral vision to maintain situational awareness, threats on the steppe or savannah coming from any direction.  So men focus of straight line, ignoring color or extraneous detail unless either are essential to the hunt and thus survival, perhaps of the whole tribe.  By contrast, women’s preferences are rooted in the daily routine of the gatherer those millions of years ago, vision focused on that which was close, the nuts and berries to be picked and the infants with their rounded features to be nurtured.  From this came the premium afforded to responsiveness to round shapes, color contrasts and detail.  Being something of an intrusion into the world of the geneticists and anthropologists, reaction to the book wasn't wholly positive but few can have found reading it dull or unchallenging.  Of course, it won't surprise women that in men there is still much of the stone age but, for better or worse, Dr Moss concluded some of them belong there too.

Singer Ariana Grande (b 1993) and her equally famous “snatched high ponytail” in Fendi polka-dots, 2025 MTV Video Music Awards, UBS Arena, Elmont, New York, September 2025.

Over the last few decades, although the popularity on the catwalks would come and go, in the high streets shop-fronts or the on-line catalogues, polka-dots have never disappeared.  Despite that, in April 2025 Vogue magazine announced polka-dots were “making a comeback” for the (northern) spring & summer season by which it seems to have meant the look was returning to designer collections, having apparently been of late consigned to “Holland Park mums on the school run or brunching on the King’s Road”.  Thoughtfully, the magazine included the now obligatory trigger warning, this time urging caution on the trypophobic (those suffering from trypophobia (an obsessive or irrational fear of patterns or clusters of small holes)).  Noting the design’s history of association with the “prim and proper”, Vogue suggested the fabric could be “toughened up with leather” or “mixed with bold colour”, suggesting the striking juxtaposition of “a floaty polka dot dress with your most worn-in leather boots.”  In such matters, Vogue’s editors are the pros and say however it’s done, the trick is “fully to commit”.

Vincent Siriano's Spring/Summer 2026 Ready-to-Wear Collection at Macy’s Herald Square, New York City, September 2025.

US designer Vincent Siriano (b 1985) doubtlessly well knows fashion's classic maxim (one of many): “Don’t mix spots and stripes” but clearly he’s not afraid to disrupt what had become something of an orthodoxy.  It wasn’t always that way and in the 1950s and 1960s when houses often would introduce their lines in the well-upholstered surrounds of up-market department stores, it wasn’t unknown for spots & stripes peacefully to coexist, sometimes in quite striking color combinations.  Whether coincidental or not, Mr Siriano chose to debut his Spring/Summer 2026 Ready-to-Wear Collection at Macy’s Herald Square, now thought a hub more for tourism than fashion.  According to the designer, the nostalgic nod reflected his fondness for such places (or at least what they used to be) and his “ethos of inclusivity and accessibility in the fashion industry.”  Presumably, the store’s sponsorship money made it an especially good place to put a catwalk.

Vincent Siriano's Spring/Summer 2026 Ready-to-Wear Collection at Macy’s Herald Square, New York City, September 2025.

Whether or not with stripes, the black & white polka-dots were eye-catching but what attracted some were the gigot sleeves.  Variously implemented, gigots were billowingly full at the shoulder, diminishing in volume around the elbow before gradually becoming tight at the wrist; the French gigot translating literally as “leg” (and used usually of livestock), in industry slang they were known as the “leg of mutton sleeve”.  In the nineteenth century, the puffy style came and went several times before a few revivals in the 1960s & 1970s were thought to have forever buried the look.  One of the reasons for the sudden “extinction of 1896” was that stylistically it had nowhere to go but “bigger” and the gigot by then truly could be monstrous, some garments demanding 2½ yards (2¼ metres) of material.  The most extreme could retain their shape only with the use of internal whalebone hoops but the development of lightweight plastics and synthetic fabrics meant the gigot’s post-war resurrection was more manageable for both makers and wearers although their impracticality rendered the most voluminous a catwalk item with all that implies.  Mr Siriano including them in 2026 in a “ready-to-wear” collection shouldn’t be taken too literally but he's serious about the polka-dots and indications are they're back in numbers for another season.  It's a welcome return.

Abduct

Abduct (pronounced ab-duhkt)

(1) To carry off or lead away (a person) illegally and in secret or by force, especially to kidnap.

(2) In physiology (as a back-formation from adduction), of certain muscles, to pull (a leg, arm etc) away from the median axis of the body.

1825–1835: From the Latin abductus, past participle of abdūcere (to abduce; to lead away) and perfect passive participle of abdūcō (to lead away), the construct being ab- (from, away from) + dūcō (lead).  The sense of the verb “abduct” meaning “to kidnap” was in use by 1834 (almost certainly as a back-formation from abduction and may be compared with the earlier transitive verb “abduce”, from abdūcō.  Abduct & abducting are verbs, abductor, abductee & abduction are nouns, abducting is a verb, & abducted is a verb & adjective, abductive is an adjective and abductively is an adverb; the common noun plural is abductions.

The noun abduction (a leading away) was in use by the 1620s and was from the Latin abductionem (a forcible carrying off, ravishing, robbing), the noun of action from past-participle stem of abducere (to lead away, take away, arrest (in use a sense of “by force” often implied although in Roman humor it seems the word was used when men approvingly discussed (legitimate, non-violent) acts of seduction)).  The construct was ab- + ducere (to lead), the latter element from the primitive Indo-European deuk- (to lead).  The modern idea of abduction as “the criminal act of forcibly taking someone (ie a kidnap) was in use by 1768, the previous uses in medicine and logic continuing, confusion avoided because the contexts were so different

In English, the sixteenth century abduce conveyed the same notions as the later abduct :(1) to conduct away; to take away; to withdraw; to draw to a different part & (2) to move a limb out away from the centre of the body but became obsolete when the alternative was preferred although it retains to this day the abstract meaning “to draw a conclusion”, used in specialized fields to describe the results of metanalysis.  In applied statistics, metanalysis is a systematic procedure (there are many) used to analyse data from two or more sources although, casually, the term is sometimes used of any analysis undertaken at a higher level of abstraction than running the numbers through a “standard analytical model”.  For those not practitioners in the field(s), what is abduced appears to be the same as what is “deduced” from the data and the difference between the terms is that abduce describes a process.

El rapto de Europa (The Rape of Europa (1628-1629)), oil on canvas by Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640), Prado Museum, Madrid (left).  It follows a 1562 work in the same vein by Tiziano Vecelli (circa 1489-1576 and known in English as Titian).  Ratto di Proserpina (The Rape of Proserpina, 1621-1622) by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1598–1680) (right).

In modern use, few words in English have, in a historical context, been as misunderstood as “rape” because the modern understanding has become so pervasive.  Rape is now (in most Western jurisdictions) held to mean “a penetrative sexual act forced upon another in the absence of their consent” (although some feminist schools of thought argue the vista should be wider) but the use of the word “rape” (sometimes retrospectively) in so much art and sculpture from Antiquity and the Middle Ages is the cause of much misunderstanding among modern audiences.  Both the French noun and verb ultimately came from the Latin rapina (act of robbery, plundering (related to rapine and the source of much modern confusion because “rape” was long used in the sense of “pillage” or “kidnapping”)) with sense development influenced by the Latin rapidus (rapid).  In the sense of “carrying off”, the English use was in parallel with the Middle French rapture with the meaning drawn from the Medieval Latin raptura (seizure, rape, kidnapping, carrying off, abduction, snatching away) and the word rape is a cognate of this.

The verb rape was from the late fourteenth century rapen (seize prey; abduct, take and carry off by force) from the noun rape and the Anglo-French raper, from the Old French rapir (to seize, abduct) which was the standard legal term, probably directly from the Latin rapere (seize, carry off by force, abduct).  The meaning “to rob, strip, plunder (a place and, more latterly, an institution)” dates from the 1720s and was a partial revival of the old sense but applied to objects rather than people; in this sense it is still used, not because there aren’t other terms to convey the meaning but because of the special force the word “rape” exerts.  Of course, in the literature and art of the Classical world and for centuries after depictions of the “rape” of women (in the sense of being abducted) likely were anyway representations of what was a prelude to sexual violation, trophies being taken for a reason so the distinction is one of linguistic practice rather than changes in the conduct of men.  Other related words have also had similar meaning shifts.  The adjective “ravishing”, dating from the mid fourteenth century and meaning “enchanting, exciting rapture or ecstasy” (present-participle adjective from the verb ravish) is now probably associated with Mills & Boon romances but the origin was sacred, the figurative notion being “carrying off from earth to heaven”.  The term “rape” is thus now obsolete in the sense of “carry off” and replaced by “abduct”, the synonyms (used variously) including drag away, kidnap, run away with, seize, spirit away etc.

Deduction, induction & abduction

A reproduction of an early edition of The Hound of the Baskervilles with illustrations by Sidney Paget (1860–1908).  It was Paget who gave Holmes the deerstalker cap and Inverness cape which became so associated with him; neither were ever mentioned by Conan Doyle.

Some subtle differences in the meanings of the sometimes confused induction & deduction were recently discussed on the BBC’s (British Broadcasting Corporation) World Book Club in an exchange between presenter Harriett Gilbert and Dr Mark Jones, co-presenter of The Doings of Doyle podcast and editor of The Sherlock Holmes Journal.  The focus of the programme was The Hound of the Baskervilles, the third of the four crime novels by British author & physician Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1859-1930), the work featuring the fictional detective Sherlock Holmes and his faithful sidekick Dr Watson.  Later published in a single edition, it originally serialised in The Strand Magazine between August 1901 and April 1902, something which accounts for the structure including a number of “cliff hanger” last sentences in chapters, a creative tension which would have worked well when readers eagerly were waiting seven days for the next instalment but which produces an unusual narrative effect when printed as a consolidated work.  The gothic Hound of the Baskervilles, which remains the best regarded of Conan Doyle’s novels, was set in the gloomy fog of Dartmoor in England’s West Country and was the tale of the search for a “fearsome, diabolical hound of supernatural origin”.  As a footnote the author's name is an example of how conventions of use influence things.  He's long been referred to as “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle” or “Conan Doyle” which would imply the surname “Conan Doyle” but his surname was “Doyle” and he was baptized with the Christian names “Arthur Ignatius Conan”, the “Conan” from his godfather.  Some academic and literary libraries do list him as “Doyle” but he's now referred to almost universally as “Conan Doyle” and the name “Arthur Doyle” would be as un-associated with him as “George Shaw” would with George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950).  A popular perception probably is that immediately after uttering the phrase “Elementary, my dear Watson”, Holmes will go on to explain how, through a process of induction or deduction, how he solved whatever was the riddle.  Interestingly, although he had Holmes say both “elementary” and “my dear Watson”, Conan Doyle never used the two as a single text-string, the phrase appearing first in the US film The Return of Sherlock Holmes (1929).  The detective does however at various times use techniques of deduction, induction abduction.

The process of deduction moves from general rules, laws, premises, principles etc to specific conclusions on the basis if the assumptions are true and the reasoning valid, the conclusion must be true, thus the standard example cited in Philosophy 101 lectures: (1) premise 1: all humans are mortal; (2) premise 2: Socrates is a human, thus (3) the conclusion: Socrates is mortal.  What deduction relies upon is necessity (the conclusion follows with certainty).  The process of induction describes drawing conclusions from specific observations or facts so that general rules or principles can be developed.  The significance of induction is that conclusions cannot be guaranteed to be true and are assessed in terms of probability and efficacy is judged by the degree to which things tend towards certainty.  An example would be: (1) observation: every day in known history the sun has risen in the east thus (2) the conclusion: tomorrow the sun will rise in the east.  While the conclusion goes beyond observed facts (ie there is no way to view “tomorrow”), the conclusion seems probable.

Induction systems: 1955 Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR Uhlenhaut Coupé (left), 1961 Chrysler 300G Convertible (with “long ram” Sonoramic tubes, centre) and 1993 Mercedes-Benz 600 SEC (right).

Before they became almost universally covered with bland plastic moldings, the more photogenic induction systems fitted to ICEs (internal combustion engine) exerted on some a real fascination, the straight or curved tubular structures recalling architectural traditions from the baroque to brutalism.  What the tubes did was deliver the fuel/air mixture to the combustion chambers and their exaggerated length was to exploit an aspect of fluid dynamics related to Sir Isaac Newton's (1642–1727) first law of motion, more commonly known as the law of inertia: “An object at rest tends to stay at rest and an object in motion tends to stay in motion” and it’s the second part for which the tubes were designed.  During the intake cycle of an engine, the fuel-air mix flows through the intake manifold, past the intake valve, and into the cylinder, then the intake valve shuts.  At that point, the law of inertia comes into play: Because the air was in motion, it wants to stay in motion but can’t because the valve is shut so it piles up against the valve with something of a concertina effect.  With one piece of air piling up on the next, the air becomes compressed and, being under pressure, this stuff has to go somewhere so it turns around and flows back through the intake manifold in the form of a pressure wave.  This pressure wave bounces back and forth in the runner and if it arrives back at the intake valve when the valve opens, it’s drawn into the engine.  This bouncing pressure wave of air and the proper arrival time at the intake valve creates a low-pressure form of supercharging but for this to be achieved all variables have to be aligned so the pressure wave arrives at the intake valve at the right time.  This combination of synchronized events is known as the “resonant conditions”.  All that physics is of course interesting but even those bored by the details can sometimes just admire the lines of the more exotic induction systems

The process of abduction sometimes is described as “drawing an inference to reach the most plausible explanation” which sounds a bit wishy-washy but it’s an essential element in the analytical toolbox.  In use, abduction means moving from an observation (or a opinion, which need not represent an orthodox view) to develop a hypothesis to explain it.  In this process, there should be symmetry, such as in an expression like: (1) if A were true, (2) B would be expected. (3) If B is observed, (4) A thus might be true.  So the observation “the car is covered in raindrops” means the hypothesis “it must have rained” seems reasonable.

Dr Barrett was joking.

For reasons uncertain (though there's been much speculation), since the early 1960s there have been many claims of “alien abduction”.  Many theories exploring the phenomenon come from the mental health community and discuss the effects of dreams, false memory syndrome and such but of note is the trend emerged only after the “space race” had begun and tales of “flying saucers” had for some time been part of popular culture.  The fondness alien abductors clearly have for examining abductees with “anal probes” seems to have been identified only in the 1980s and the volume of published accounts must have encouraged the trend; the devices in this context became a staple of comedy routines.

Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes is most associated with deduction but at times used all three reasoning methods and the boundaries between them are not always rigid, one sometimes blurring into another because a deduction can be dependent on a prior induction or abduction.  In The Adventure of the Speckled Band (1892) there is a clear example of the deductive (general > specific > necessary conclusion) process.  In that short story, Holmes began with the premise a person cannot from the outside unlock a locked bedroom door if one does not have the key and because the victim’s door was locked from the inside and the only key was with them in the bedroom, the murderer must have entered by some other means (which turned out to be the ventilator).  In the novel A Study in Scarlet (1887), the example of the inductive method is illustrated by Holmes astonishing knowledge of the nature of the ashes left by cigars, the detective’s explanation being that by “repeated experiments”, his study of the material allowed him to identify vital characteristics, different tobaccos leaving different ashes.  From this emerged the general rule that ashes can identify the source tobacco and thus perhaps also the smoker.  In The Hound of the Baskervilles, although there are many examples of deduction, they ultimately are contingent upon one fundamental product of the inductive method: There is no such thing as the supernatural so there can be no spectral hound stalking the moors.  From this it follows there must be a mortal flesh & blood dog, albeit one large and frightening.  It’s the simplest explanation, even though one not certain until tested by the beast being hunted down and killed.

Blurb

Blurb (pronounced blurb)

(1) A brief promotional piece, almost always laudatory, used historically for books, latterly for about any product.

(2) To advertise or praise in the manner of a blurb.

1907: Coined by US graphic artist and humorist Gelett Burgess (1866–1951).  Blurbs are a specific type of advertisement, similar exercises in other contexts known also as “puff pieces”, “commendations” or “recommendations”.  The use of "puff" is thought based on the character "Mr Puff" in the burlesque satire The Critic: or, a Tragedy Rehearsed (1779) by the Anglo-Irish Whig playwright Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816).  Generally, blurbs contain elements designed to tempt a buyer which may include a précis (something less than a detailed summary), a mention of the style and a recommendation.  The term was originally invoked to mock the excessive praise printed on book jackets and was often parodied in a derisively imitative manner and is still sometimes critically used thus but it’s also now a neutral descriptor and an accepted part of the publishing industry.  Blurb is a noun & verb, blurbing & blurbed are verbs, blurbist is a noun and blurbish is an adjective; the noun plural is blurbs.

The blurb has apparently existed for some two-thousand–odd years but the word became well-known only after a publishing trade association dinner in 1907, Gelett Burgess displaying a dust jacket printed with the words “YES, this is a “BLURB”!”, featuring the (fictitious) Miss Belinda Blurb who was said to have been photographed “...in the act of blurbing”, Burgess adding that to blurb was “… to make a sound like a publisher…” and was “…a check drawn on fame, and it is seldom honoured”.  There are sources claiming the word was coined by US academic and literary critic Brander Matthews (1852–1929) in his essay American Character (1906) but Professor Matthews acknowledged the source genuinely was Burgess, writing in the New York Times (24 September 1922): “Now and again, in these columns I have had the occasion to employ the word “blurb”, a colourful and illuminating neologism which we owe to the verbal inventiveness of Mr Gelett Burgess”.

Burgess had released Are You a Bromide? in 1906 and while sales were encouraging, he suggested to his publishers (BW Huebsch) that each of the attendees and the upcoming industry dinner should receive a copy with a “special edition” dust cover.  For this, Burgess used the picture of a young lady who had appeared in an advertisement for dental services, snapped in the act of shouting.  It was at the time common for publishers to use pictures of attractive young ladies for book covers, even if the image was entirely unrelated to the tome’s content, the object being to attract a male readership.  Burgess dubbed his purloined model “Miss Belinda Blurb” and claimed she had been photographed “in the act of blurbing”; mid-blurb as it were.

Are you a Bromide? (Publisher's special edition, 1907).

The dust cover was headed with the words “YES, this is a “BLURB”! All the Other Publishers commit them. Why Shouldn’t We?” and knowing a blurb should not in moderation do what can be done in excess, went on to gush about the literary excellence of his book in rather the manner a used car salesman might extol the virtues of some clapped-out car in the corner of the yard.  His blurb concluded “This book is the Proud Purple Penultimate!”  The industry must have been inspired because the blurb has become entrenched, common in fiction and non-fiction alike and the use of the concept can be seen in film, television, social media and just about anywhere there’s a desire to temp a viewer.  Indeed, the whole idea of “clickbait” (something which tells enough to tantalize but not enough to satisfy without delving deeper) is a functional application of a blurb.  Depending on the source, the inspiration for the word came from either (1) the sound made by a book as it falls to the floor, (2) the sound of a bird chirping or (3) an amalgam of “burp” & “blather”.  The author left no clue.

In his book, Burgess innovated further, re-purposing the word "bromide".  In inorganic chemistry, a bromide is a binary compound of bromine and some other element or radical, the construct being brom- (an alternative form of bromo- (used preceding a vowel) which described a substance containing bromine (from the French brome, from the Ancient Greek βρῶμος (brômos) (stink)) + ide (the suffix used in chemistry to describe substances comprising two or more related compounds.  However, early in the twentieth century, Bromide was a trade name for a widely available medicine, taken as a sedative and in some cases prescribed to diminish “an excessive sexual appetite”.  It was the sedating aspect which Burgess picked up to describe someone tiresome and given to trite remarks, explaining “a bromide” was one “…who does his thinking by syndicate and goes with the crowd” and was thus boring and banal.  A bromine’s antonym was, he helpfully advised, a “sulphite”.  Unfortunately, while blurb flourished, bromide & sulphites as binary descriptors of the human condition have vanished from the vernacular.

Lindsay Lohan with body double during shooting for Irish Wish (Netflix, due for release in 2023).  The car is a Triumph TR4.

Nteflix's blurb for Irish Wish: Always a bridesmaid, never a bride — unless, of course, your best friend gets engaged to the love of your life, you make a spontaneous wish for true love, and then magically wake up as the bride-to-be.  That’s the supernatural, romantic pickle Lindsay Lohan (Mean Girls, The Parent Trap) finds herself in upcoming romantic comedy, Irish Wish.  Set in the rolling green moors of Ireland, the movie sees Lohan's Maddie learn her dreams for true love might not be what she imagined and that her soulmate may well be a different person than she originally expected. Apparently magic wishes are quite insightful.

Blurb Your Enthusiasm (2023, distributed by Simon & Schuster).

Louise Willder (b 1972) has for a quarter century been a copywriter for Penguin, in that time composing some 5000 blurbs, each a two-hundred-odd word piece which aims both to inform and tempt a purchase.  Her non-fiction debut Blurb Your Enthusiasm is not only a review of the classic blurbs (the good, the bad and the seriously demented) but also an analysis of the trends in the structure of blurbs and the subtle shifts in their emphasis although, over the centuries, the purpose seems not to have changed.  Ms Willder also documents the nuances of the blurb, the English tendency to understatement, the hyperbolic nature of Americans and the distaste the French evidently have of having to say anything which might disclose the blurb’s vulgar commercial purpose, tracing over time how changing attitudes and societal mores mean what’s now written of a nineteenth century classic is very different to when first it was published.  Inevitably too, there are the sexual politics of authorship and publishing and blurbs can reveal as much by the odd hint or what’s left unsaid than what actually appears on a dust cover.  Academics and reviewers have perhaps neglected the blurb because traditionally they've often been dismissed as mere advertising but, unless the author’s name or the subject matter is enough of a draw, even more than a cover illustration or title, it’s the blurb which can close the sale and collectively, they’re doubtlessly more widely read than reviews.  Blurb Your Enthusiasm is highly recommended.

Founded in New York City in 1924 by Richard L Simon (1899–1960) & Max Lincoln Schuster (1897–1970), Simon & Schuster was in 2023 acquired by private equity company KKR (Kohlberg Kravis Roberts & Co).

In 2025, there emerged an indication there was, at least in one corner of the publishing industry a push-back against what might be called the “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine” blurb with the  publisher of Simon & Schuster’s flagship imprint in the US announcing it will “no longer require authors to obtain blurbs for their books”.  Revealed in an essay in Publishers Weekly, it was explained that while Simon & Schuster never had “a formal mandatory policy” about the matter, a culture had evolved to make blurbs “tacitly expected” and the responsibility of harvesting them from famous writers, celebrities and such devolved upon authors, their agents & editors.  The publishing house rejected the notion the blurb “production line” is “what makes the book business so special: the collegiality of authors and their willingness to support one another”, arguing the very ubiquity of the things had become “…incredibly damaging to what should be the industry’s ultimate goal: producing books of the highest possible quality.”  Memorably, Simon & Schuster’s critique of “authors feeling obliged to write blurbs for their friends” was summed up in the phrase: “an incestuous and unmeritocratic literary ecosystem that often rewards connections over talent.”  Students of the blurb will of course be disappointed if this becomes a trend and among authors it must have been fun to cast an eye over new releases just to try to work out if one individual was no longer on speaking terms with another but more practically, others did observe that while blurbs may be of marginal interest to those browsing the shelves, it was understood booksellers could be influenced to increase their orders if a book seems “well-blurbed”.  However, even if Simon & Schuster are no longer giving authors a tacit “nudge”, it may be many remain prolific blurb writers because it's a very cheap way to keep one’s brand-recognition on the shelves and up to date.