Frango

Frango (pronounced fran-goh)

(1) A young chicken (rare in English and in Portuguese, literally “chicken”).

(2) Various chicken dishes (an un-adapted borrowing from the Portuguese).

(3) In football (soccer) (1) a goal resulting from a goalkeeper’s error and (2) the unfortunate goalkeeper.

(4) The trade name of a chocolate truffle, now sold in Macy's department stores. 

In English, “frango” is most used in the Portuguese sense of “chicken” (variously “a young chicken”, “chicken meat”, “chicken disk” etc) and was from the earlier Portuguese frângão of unknown origin.  In colloquial figurative use, a frango can be “a young boy” and presumably that’s an allusion to the use referring to “a young chicken”.  In football (soccer), it’s used (sometimes trans-nationally) of a goal resulting from an especially egregious mistake by the goalkeeper (often described in English by the more generalized “howler”.  In Brazil, where football teams are quasi-religious institutions, such a frango (also as frangueiro) is personalized to describe the goalkeeper who made the error and on-field blunders are not without lethal consequence in South America, the Colombian centre-back Andrés Escobar (1967–1994) murdered in the days after the 1994 FIFA World Cup, an event reported as a retribution for him having scored the own goal which contributed to Colombia's elimination from the tournament. Frango is a noun; the noun plural is frangos.

The Classical Latin verb frangō (to break, to shatter) (present infinitive frangere, perfect active frēgī, supine frāctum) which may have been from the primitive Indo-European bhreg- (to break) by not all etymologists agree because descendants have never been detected in Celtic or Germanic forks, thus the possibility it might be an organic Latin creation.  The synonyms were īnfringō, irrumpō, rumpō & violō.  As well as memorable art, architecture and learning, Ancient Rome was a world also of violence and conflict and there was much breaking of stuff, the us the figurative use of various forms of frangō to convey the idea of (1) to break, shatter (a promise, a treaty, someone's ideas (dreams, projects), someone's spirit), (2) to break up into pieces (a war from too many battles, a nation) and (3) to reduce, weaken (one's desires, a nation).

A frangō in the sense of the Classical Latin: Lindsay Lohan with broken left wrist (fractured in two places in an unfortunate fall at Milk Studios during New York Fashion Week) and 355 ml (12 fluid oz) can of Rehab energy drink, Los Angeles, September 2006.  The car is a 2006 Mercedes-Benz SL 65 AMG (R230; 2004-2011) which would later feature in the tabloids after a low-speed crash.  The R230 range (2001-2011) was unusual because of the quirk of the SL 550 (2006-2011), a designation used exclusively in the North American market, the RoW (rest of the world) cars retaining the SL 500 badge even though both used the 5.5 litre (333 cubic inch) V8 (M273).

The descendents from the Classical Latin frangō (to break, to shatter) included the Aromanian frãngu (to break, to destroy; to defeat), the Asturian frañer (to break; to smash) & francer (to smash), the English fract (to break; to violate (long obsolete)) & fracture ((1) an instance of breaking, a place where something has broken. (2) in medicine a break in a bone or cartilage and (3) in geology a fault or crack in a rock), the Friulian franzi (to break), the German Fraktur ((1) in medicine, a break in a bone & (2) a typeface) & Fraktion (2) in politics, a faction, a parliamentary grouping, (3) in chemistry, a fraction (in the sense of a component of a mixture), (4) a fraction (part of a whole) and (5) in the German-speaking populations of Switzerland, South Tyrol & Liechtenstein, a hamlet (adapted from the Italian frazione)), the Italian: frangere (1) to break (into pieces), (2) to press or crush (olives), (3) in figurative use and as a literary device, to transgress (a commandment, a convention of behavior etc), (4) in figurative use to weaken (someone's resistance, etc.) and (5) to break (of the sea) (archaic)), the Ladin franjer (to break into pieces), the Old Franco provençal fraindre (to break; significantly to damage), the Old & Middle French fraindre (significantly to damage), the Portuguese franzir (to frown (to form wrinkles in forehead)), the Romanian frânge (1) to break, smash, fracture & (2) in figurative use, to defeat) and frângere (breaking), the Old Spanish to break), and the Spanish frangir (to split; to divide).

Portuguese lasanha de frango (chicken lasagna).

In Portuguese restaurants, often heard is the phrase de vaca ou de frango? (beef or chicken?) and that’s because so many dishes offer the choice, much the same as in most of the world (though obviously not India).  In fast-food outlets, the standard verbal shorthand for “fried chicken” is “FF” which turns out to be one of the world’s most common two letter abbreviations, the reason being one “F” representing of English’s most unadapted linguistic exports.  One mystery for foreigners sampling Portuguese cuisine is: Why is chicken “frango” but chicken soup is “sopa de galinha?”  That’s because frango is used to mean “a young male chicken” while a galinha is an adult female.  Because galinha meat doesn’t possess the same tender quality as that of a frango, (the females bred and retained mostly for egg production), slaughtered galinhas traditionally were minced or shredded and used for dishes such as soups, thus: sopa de galinha (also as canja de galinha or the clipped caldo and in modern use, although rare, sopa de frango is not unknown).  That has changed as modern techniques of industrial farming have resulted in a vastly expanded supply of frango meat so, by volume, most sopa de galinha is now made using frangos (the birds killed young, typically between 3-4 months).  Frangos have white, drier, softer meat while that of the galinha is darker, less tender and juicer and the difference does attract chefs in who do sometimes offer a true sopa de galinha as a kind of “authentic peasant cuisine”.

There are also pintos (pintinhos in the diminutive) which are chicks only a few days old but these are no longer a part of mainstream Portuguese cuisine although galetos (chicks killed between at 3-4 weeks) are something of a delicacy, usually roasted.  The reproductive males (cocks or roosters in English use) are galos.  There is no tradition, anywhere in Europe, of eating the boiled, late-developing fertilized eggs (ie a bird in the early stages of development), a popular dish in the Philippines and one which seems to attract virulent disapprobation from many which culturally is interesting because often, the same critics happily will consume both the eggs and the birds yet express revulsion at even the sight of the intermediate stage.  Such attitudes are cultural constructs and may be anthropomorphic because there’s some resemblance to a human foetus.

Lindsay Lohan at Macy's and Teen People's Freaky Friday Mother/Daughter Fashion Show, Macy's Herald Square, New York City, August 2003.  It's hoped she had time for a Frango.

 Now sold in Macy’s Frangos are a chocolate truffle created in 1918 for sale in Frederick & Nelson department stores.  Although originally infused with mint, many variations ensued and they became popular when made available in the Marshall Field department stores which in 1929 acquired Frederick & Nelson although it’s probably their distribution by Macy's which remains best known.  Marshall Field's marketing sense was sound and they turned the Frango into something of a cult, producing them in large melting pots on the 13th floor of the flagship Marshall Field's store on State Street until 1999 when production was out-sourced to a third party manufacturer in Pennsylvania.  In the way of modern corporate life, the Frango has had many owners, a few changes in production method and packaging and some appearances in court cases over rights to the thing but it remains a fixture on Macy’s price lists, the trouble history reflected in the “Pacific Northwest version” being sold in Macy's Northwest locations in Washington, Idaho, Montana and Oregon while the “Seattle version” is available in Macy's Northwest establishments.  There are differences between the two and each has its champions but doubtless there are those who relish both.

A patent application (with a supporting trademark document) for the Frango was filed in 1918, the name a re-purposing of a frozen dessert sold in the up-market tea-room at Frederick & Nelson's department store in Seattle, Washington.  The surviving records suggest the “Seattle Frangos” were flavoured not with mint but with maple and orange but what remains uncertain is the origin of the name.  One theory is the construct was Fr(ederick’s) + (t)ango which is romantic but there are also reports employees were told, if asked, to respond it was from Fr(ederick) –an(d) Nelson Co(mpany) with the “c” switched to a “g” because the word “Franco” had a long established meaning.  Franco was a word-forming element meaning “French” or “the Franks”, from the Medieval Latin combining form Franci (the Franks), thus, by extension, “the French”.  Since the early eighteenth century it had been used when forming English phrases & compound words including “Franco-Spanish border” (national boundary between France & Spain), Francophile (characterized by excessive fondness of France and all things French (and thus its antonym Francophobe)) and Francophone (French speaking).

Hitler and Franco, photographed at their day-long meeting at Hendaye, on the Franco-Spanish border, 23 October 1940.  Within half a decade, Hitler would kill himself; still ruling Spain, Franco died peacefully in his bed, 35 years later.

Remarkably, the Frango truffles have been a part of two political controversies.  The first was a bit of a conspiracy theory, claiming the sweet treats were originally called “Franco Mints”, the name changed only after the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) in which the (notionally right-wing and ultimately victorious) Nationalist forces were led by Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975) and the explanation was that Marshall Field wanted to avoid adverse publicity.  Some tellings of the tale claim the change was made only after the Generalissimo’s meeting with Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) at Hendaye (on the Franco-Spanish border) on 23 October 1940.  Their discussions concerned Spain's participation in the War against the British but it proved most unsatisfactory for the Germans, the Führer declaring as he left that he'd rather have "three of four teeth pulled out" than have to again spend a day meet with the Caudillo.  Unlike Hitler, Franco was a professional soldier, thought war a hateful business best avoided and, more significantly, had a shrewd understanding of the military potential of the British Empire and the implications for the war of the wealth and industrial might of the United States.  The British were fortunate Franco took the view he did because had he agreed to afford the Wehrmacht (the German armed forces) the requested cooperation to enable them to seize control of Gibraltar, the Royal Navy might have lost control of the Mediterranean, endangering the vital supplies of oil from the Middle East, complicating passage to the Indian Ocean and beyond and transforming the strategic position in the whole hemisphere.  However, in the archives is the patent application form for “Frangos” dated 1 June 1918 and there has never been any evidence to support the notion “Franco” was ever used for the chocolate truffles.

Macy's Dark Mint Frangos.

The other political stoush (a late nineteenth century Antipodean slang meaning a "fight or small-scale brawl) came in 1999 when, after seventy years, production of Frangos was shifted from the famous melting pots on the thirteenth floor of Marshall Field's flagship State Street store to Gertrude Hawk Chocolates in Dunmore, Pennsylvania, the decision taken by the accountants at the Dayton-Hudson Corporation which had assumed control in 1990.  The rationale of this was logical, demand for Frangos having grown far beyond the capacity of the relatively small space in State Street to meet demand but it upset many locals, the populist response led Richard Daley (b 1942; mayor (Democratic Party) of Chicago Illinois 1989-2011), the son of his namesake father (1902–1976; mayor (Democratic Party) of Chicago, Illinois 1955-1976) who in 1968 simultaneously achieved national infamy and national celebrity (one’s politics dictating how one felt) in his handling of the police response to the violence which beset the 1968 Democratic National Convention held that year in the city.  The campaign to have the Frangos made instead by a Chicago-based chocolate house was briefly a thing but was ignored by Dayton-Hudson and predictably, whatever the lingering nostalgia for the melting pots, the pragmatic Mid-Westerners adjusted to the new reality and with much the same with the same enthusiasm were soon buying the imports from Pennsylvania.

Macy's Frango Mint Trios.

Remarkably, there appears to be a “Frango spot market”.  Although the increasing capacity of AI (artificial intelligence) has made the mechanics of “dynamic pricing” (a price responding in real-time to movements in demand), as long ago as the Christmas season in 2014, CBS News ran what they called the “Macy's State Street Store Frango Mint Price Tracker”, finding the truffle’s price was subject to fluctuations as varied over the holiday period as movements in the cost of gas (petrol).  On the evening of Thanksgiving, “early bird” shoppers could buy a 1 lb one-pound box of Frango mint “Meltaways” for US$11.99, the price jumping by the second week in December to US$14.99 although that still represented quite a nominal discount from the RRP (recommended retail price) of US$24.00.  Within days, the same box was again listed at US$11.99 and a survey of advertising from the previous season confirmed that in the weeks immediately after Christmas, the price had fallen to US$9.99.  It may be time for the Chicago Mercantile Exchange (CME) to open a market for Frango Futures (the latest “FF”!).

Doodlebug

Doodlebug (pronounced dood-l-buhg)

(1) In entomology the larva of an antlion (a group of some 2,000 species of insect in the neuropteran family Myrmeleontidae, the appellation “doodlebug” an allusion to the “doodle-like” marks they leave in the sand as tracks of their movement.

(2) In entomology (UK), a cockchafer (genus Melolontha).

(3) In entomology (US regional), a woodlouse.

(4) Any of various small, squat vehicles.

(5) A divining rod or similar device supposedly useful in locating underground water, oil, minerals etc.

(6) In World War II (1939-1945) UK slang, the German cruise missile the V1, (Fs-103, also known in formally as the “flying bomb” or “buzz bomb”, the latter an allusion to the distinctive sound made by the craft’s pulse-jet power-plant.  The slang began among RAF (Royal Air Force) personnel and later spread to the general population.

(7) In US rural slang, as “doodlebug tractor”, a car or light truck converted into tractor used for small-scale agriculture for a small farm during World War II.

(8) In informal use, a term of endearment (now rare).

(9) In informal use, a slackard (an archaic form of slacker) or time-waster (now rare).

(10) In informal, an idiot (the word used casually rather than in its once defined sense in mental health).

(11) In informal use, someone who habitually draws (or doodles) objects).

(12) Individual self-propelled train cars (obsolete).

(13) A device claimed to be able to locate oil deposits.

1865-1870: A coining in US English, the construct being doodle + bug, the first known use as a US dialectal form (south of the Mason-Dixon line) to describe certain beetles or larva.  Doodle dates from the early seventeenth century and was used to mean “a fool or simpleton”.  It was originally a dialectal form, from dudeldopp (simpleton) and influenced by dawdle (To spend time idly and unfruitfully; to waste time, pointlessly to linger, to move or walk lackadaisically; to “dilly-dally”), thus the later use of doodle to mean “a slackard (slacker) or time-waster”.  The German variants of the etymon included Dudeltopf, Dudentopf, Dudenkopf, Dude and Dödel (and there’s presumably some link with the German dudeln (to play the bagpipe)).  There is speculation the Americanism “dude” may have some link with doodle and the now internationalized (and sometimes gender-neutral) “dude” has in recent decades become one of slang’s more productive and variable forms.  The song Yankee Doodle long pre-dates the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783) but it was popularized in the era by being used as a marching song by British colonial troops and intended to poke fun at their rebellious opponents.  From this use was derived the verb of the early eighteenth century (to doodle), meaning “to swindle or to make a fool of”.  The predominant modern meaning (the drawings regarded usually as “small mindless sketches”) emerged in the 1930s either from this meaning or (s seems to have greater support), from the verb “to dawdle” which since the seventeenth century had been used to mean “wasting time; being lazy”.  In slang and idiomatic use, doodles uses are legion including “the penis” and any number of rhyming forms with meanings ranging from the very good to the very bad.

A doodled Volkswagen “bug” on Drawn Inside.

Bug dates from 1615–1625 and the original use was to describe insects, apparently as a variant of the earlier bugge (beetle), thought to be an alteration of the Middle English budde, from the Old English -budda (beetle) by etymologists are divided on whether the phrase “bug off” (please leave) is related to the undesired presence of insects or was of a distinct origin.  Bug, bugging & debug are nouns & verbs, bugged is a verb & adjective and buggy is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is bugs.  Although “unbug” makes structural sense (ie remove a bug, as opposed to the sense of “debug”), it doesn’t exist whereas forms such as the adjectives unbugged (not bugged) and unbuggable (not able to be bugged) are regarded as standard.  The array of compound forms meaning “someone obsessed with an idea, hobby etc) produced things like “shutterbug” (amateur photographer) & firebug (arsonist) seems first to have emerged in the mid nineteenth century.  The development of this into “a craze or obsession” is thought rapidly to have accelerated in the years just before World War I (1914-1918), again based on the notion of “bitten by the bug” or “caught the bug”, thus the idea of being infected with an unusual enthusiasm for something.  The use to mean a demon, evil spirit, spectre or hobgoblin was first recorded in the mid-fourteenth century and was a clipping of the Middle English bugge (scarecrow, demon, hobgoblin) or uncertain origin although it may have come from the Middle Welsh bwg (ghost; goblin (and linked to the Welsh bwgwl (threat (and earlier “fear”) and the Middle Irish bocanách (supernatural being).  There’s also speculation it may have come from the scary tales told to children which included the idea of a bugge (beetle) at a gigantic scale.  That would have been a fearsome sight and the idea remains fruitful to this day for artists and film-makers needing something frightening in the horror or SF (science fiction) genre.  The use in this sense is long obsolete although the related forms bugbear and bugaboo survive.  Dating from the 1570s, a bugbear was in folklore a kind of “large goblin”, used to inspire fear in children (both as a literary device & for purposes of parental control) and for adults it soon came to mean “a source of dread, resentment or irritation; in modern use it's an “ongoing problem”, a recurring obstacle or adversity or one’s pet peeve.  The obsolete form bugg dates from circa 1620 and was a reference to the troublesome bedbug, the construct a conflation of the middle English bugge (scarecrow, hobgoblin) and the Middle English budde (beetle).  The colloquial sense of “a microbe or germ” dates from 1919, the emergence linked to the misleadingly-named “Spanish flu” pandemic.  Doodlebug & doodlebugger are nouns and doodlebugging is a verb; the noun plural is doodlebugs.  The forms have sometimes been hyphenated.

A doodlebug (left) and his (or her) doodles in the sand (right).

That the word doodlebug has appeal is obvious because since the 1860s it has been re-purposed many time, often with the hint something “small but not cute”, that something understandable given the original creature so named (larva of an antlion) is not one of nature’s more charismatic creations.  Doodlebugs are squat little things which live mostly in loose sand where they create pit traps and genuinely are industrious creatures, their name earned not because they are idle time-wasters but because the tracks they leave in the sand are strikingly similar to the doodles people often wile away their time drawing.  The frankly unattractive ant leave their doodles behind because as they percolate over the sands, their big butts drag behind them, leaving the erratic trails.  So compelling is the name, it has been applied to a number of other, similar insects.  Another use is attributive from the link with the seventeenth century notion of a doodle being “a simpleton or time-waster”, extended later to “an idiot” (the word used casually rather than in its once defined sense in mental health); in the 1930s it came be used of those who incessantly sketch or draw stuff, the idea being they are squandering their time.  What they draw are called “doodles”, the source of the name for the artist.

Doodles on a rendering of Lindsay Lohan by Stable Diffusion.

The mid-twentieth century art (some of its practitioners claiming it was a science) of doodlebugging was practiced by doodlebuggers who used a method said to be not greatly different from the equally dubious technique of the water diviner.  All the evidence suggests there was a general scepticism of the claims that a bent rod waived about above the earth could be used to locate hydro-carbons and the use of “doodlebuging” to refer to the process was originally a slur but it became an affectionate name for those intrepid enough to trek into deserts seeking the “black gold”.  In the 1940s when the “profession” was first described, any reliable means of detecting sub-surface oil deposits simply didn’t exist (other than drilling a hole in the ground to see if it was there) and the early doodlebuggers were scam merchants.  The science did however advance (greatly spurred on by the demands of wartime) and when geologists came to be able to apply the modern machinery of seismic mapping and actually had success, they too were called doodlebuggers and happily adopted the name.

Texaco Doodlebug fuel tanker, one of eight built in 1934-1935 during the industry's "streamliner" era.  It was a time when art deco's lovely lines appeared in many fields of design. 

In the early twentieth century, a doodlebug was a self-propelled rail car, used on rail lines which were short in length and subject only to light traffic.  These were autonomous vehicles, powered both by gasoline (it was the pre-diesel era in the US) and electricity and were an economical alternative for operators, being much cheaper to run than the combination of large locomotives & carriage cars, eminently suited to lower passenger numbers.  The concept may be compared with the smaller (often propeller or turbo-prop) aircraft used on regional & feeder routes where the demand wouldn’t make the use of a larger airliner viable.  Although the doodlebugs carried relative few passengers, their operating costs were correspondingly lower so the PCpM (passenger cost per mile) was at least comparable with the full-sized locomotives.  While it may be a myth, the story is that one rail employee described the small, stumpy rail car as looking like a “potato bug” and (as English informal terms tend to do) this morphed into the more appealing doodlebug.

Some assembly required: a doodlebug tractor with hydraulic pump-driven crane, the agglomeration dating from circa 1934.

Although the mechanical specification of each tended to vary as things broke and were replaced with whatever fell conveniently to hand or could be purchased cheaply, when discovered it included a 1925 Chevrolet gasoline engine, Ford Model T firewall and steering, Ford Model A three-speed manual transmission, Ford Model TT rear end and AM General HMMWV rear wheels and tires.  The "mix & match" approach was typical of the genre and it's doubtful many were for long exactly alike.

A doodlebug could also be a DIY (do it yourself) tractor.  During the Great Depression of the 1930s, the smaller-scale farmers in the US no longer had the capital (or access to capital) to purchase plant and equipment on the same scale as in more prosperous times but they needed still to make their land productive and one of the modern tools which had transformed agriculture was the tractor.  New tractors being thus unattainable for many, necessity compelled many to turn to what was available and that was the stock of old cars and pickup trucks, now suddenly cheaper because the Depression had lowered demand for them as well.  With saws and welding kits, imaginative and inventive farmers would crop & chop and slice & dice until they had a vehicle which would do much of what a tractor could and according to the legends of the time, some actually out-performed the real thing because their custom design was optimized for a specific, intended purpose.  What made the modifications possible in the engineering sense was that it was a time when cars and pick-ups were almost always built with a separate chassis; the bodies could be removed and it was possible still to drive the things and it was on these basic platforms the “doodlebug” tractors were fashioned.  They were known also as “scrambolas”, “Friday night specials” and “hacksaw tractors” but it was “doodlebug” which really caught on and so popular was the practice that kits were soon advertised in mail-order catalogues (the Amazon of the day and a long tradition in the rural US).  Not until the post-war years when economic conditions improved and production of machinery for civilian use resumed at full-scale did the doodlebug industry end.

1946 Brogan Doodlebug (right) with 1942 Pontiac Torpedo (left).

Although now what’s most remembered about the US cars of the post-war era are the huge and extravagantly macropterous creations, there were more than two dozen manufacturers in the 1940s & 1950s which offered “micro-cars”, aimed at (1) female drivers, (2) inner-city delivery services and (3) urban drivers who wanted something convenient to manoeuvre and park.  The market however proved unresponsive and as the population shift to the suburbs accelerated, women wanted station wagons (in many ways the emblematic symbol of suburban American of the 1950s) and the delivery companies needed larger capacity.  As the VW Beetle and a few other niche players would prove during that decade’s “import boom”, Americans would buy smaller cars, just not micro-cars which even in Europe, where they were for a time successful, the segment didn’t survive to see the end of the 1960s.  But there was the Brogan Doodlebug, made by the B&B Specialty Company of Rossmoyne, Ohio and produced between 1946-1950 although that fewer than three dozen were sold hints at the level of demand at a time when Detroit’s mass-production lines were churning out thousands of “standard sized” car a day.

1946 Brogan Doodlebug.

Somewhat optimistically (though etymologically defensible) described as a “roadster”, the advertising for the Doodlebug exclusively featured women drivers and it certainly was in some ways ideal for urban use (except perhaps when raining, snowing, in cold weather, under harsh sun etc).  It used a three wheeled chassis with the single wheel at the front, articulated so the vehicle could turn within its own length so parking would have been easy, the thing barely 96 inches (2440 mm) in length & 40 inches (1020 mm) wide; weighing only some 442 lbs (200 kg), it was light enough for two strong men to pick it up and move it.  Powered by either a single or twin-cylinder rear-mounted engine (both rated at a heady 10 horsepower (7.5 kW)) no gearbox was deemed necessary thus no tiresome gear levers or clutch pedals were there to confuse women drivers and B&B claimed a fuel consumption up to 70 mpg (US gallon; 3.4 L/100 km) with a cruising speed of 45-50 mph (70-80 km/h).  All this for US$400 and remarkably, it seems it wasn’t until 1950 (after some 30 doodlebugs had been built over four years) the cost-accountants looked at the project and concluded B&B were losing about US$100 on each one sold.  A price-rise was ruled out so production ended and although B&B released the Broganette (an improved three-wheeler with the single wheel at the rear which provides much better stability), it was no more successful and the company turned to golf carts and scooters which proved much more lucrative.  B&B later earned a footnote in the history of motorsport as one of the pioneer go-kart manufacturers.

Annotated schematic of the V-1 (left) and a British Military Intelligence drawing (dated 16 June 1944, 3 days after the first V-1 attacks on London (right). 

First deployed in 1944 the German Vergeltungswaffen eins (“retaliatory weapon 1” or "reprisal weapon 1” and eventually known as the V-1) was the world’s first cruise missile.  One of the rare machines to use a pulse-jet, it emitted such a distinctive sound that those at whom it was aimed nicknamed it the “buzz-bomb” although it attracted other names including “flying bomb” and “doodlebug”.  In Germany, before Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897–1945; Reich Minister of Propaganda 1933-1945) decided it was the V-1, the official military code name was Fi 103 (The Fi stood for Fieseler, the original builder of the airframe and most famous for their classic Storch (Stork), short take-off & landing (STOL) aircraft) but there were also the code-names Maikäfer (maybug) & Kirschkern (cherry stone).  While the Allied defenses against the V-1 did improve over time, it was only the destruction of the launch sites and the occupation of territory within launch range that ceased the attacks.  Until then, the V-1 remained a highly effective terror weapon but, like the V-2 and so much of the German armaments effort, bureaucratic empire-building and political intrigue compromised the efficiency of the project.

Etiolate

Etiolate (pronounced ee-tee-uh-leyt)

(1) In botany, to cause a plant to whiten or grow pale by excluding light.

(2) To cause to become weakened or sickly; to remove vigor.

(3) To drain of color; to make pale and sickly-looking; to become pale or blanched.

(4) In literary theory (usually as “etiolated verse” or etiolated text”), to revise a text to remove fanciful or pretentious forms.

1791: The past participle of the seventeenth century French étioler (to blanch) and used to mean “to make pale, to remove a light source from plants during growth to induce them to form in a lighter hue”, presumed to be a derivative of a Norman French dialect form of with the appended -ate suffix.  The suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  The idea in French may have been derived from the notion of “to make the color of straw” or even literally “to become like straw” and it was used in a branch of horticulture to “turn a plant white by growing it in darkness”, the attraction of white being the association with “delicacy; purity” and it was a commercial approach in market gardens to create “high priced vegetables” and was from étiolé, past participle of the seventeenth century étioler (to blanch), probably from the Norman dialect étule (a stalk) and the Old French esteule (straw, field of stubble) from the Latin stupla from stipula (straw; stubble).  Etiolate is a verb & adjective, etiolation is a noun, etiolative is a noun & adjective, etiolated is a verb & adjective, etiolating is a verb and etiolatively is an adverb; the noun plural is etiolations.

In literary theory, “to etiolate” a text is to remove or revise the “purple passages” (known just as alliteratively also as “purple prose”).  In literature, purple passages are those sections of a text which are overly elaborate, flowery, or extravagant in style, often prioritizing ornate or decorative language and the use of needlessly long words, the meaning of which is often obscure.  Such writing is thought a literary self-indulgence or a mere pretentious display of knowledge; grandiose execution at the expense of clarity, the usual critique being “style over substance”.  The phrase is almost certainly derived from the historic use of the once rare and expensive purple dye being restricted (actually by statute or edict in some places) to royalty and even when availability became wider, the association with luxury & wealth continued.  The idea has long been a tool of critics, Roman lyric poet Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus, 65-8 BC) in his Ars Poetica (The Art of Poetry, 19 BC) referring disapprovingly to the purpureus… pannus (a purple piece of cloth), the irrelevant insertion of a grandiloquent or melodramatic passage into a work.  Horace thought this disruptive at best and absurd at worst and “purple passages” continues to be used to describe writing which is needlessly ornate, florid and usually discordantly incongruous.  Used almost always pejoratively (although there do seem to be some admirers), comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) might have called such flourishes “formalism”.  Amusingly, in an example of how idiomatic use in English must baffle those learning the language, “purple patch”, also once applied to such tortured text, would come to be used to describes any particular good period or performance (in any context), the use always wholly positive.

Pencil sketch (circa 1845) of Anne Brontë (1820–1849) by her sister Charlotte (1816–1855).

What is a purple passage is a cultural construct and in literature fashions change, some works regarded still regarded as “literary classics” written in a style which if release now would be thought absurd or a parody.  That’s because such judgments tend now to be made on the basis of the manner in which people “actually talk” and although that is highly variable and influenced by social class and regional traditions, in the age of modern media there is probably a broad (if not at the margins wholly accurate) understanding of the range and it’s to this literature need to adhere.  So, consider what Anne Brontë has the Reverend Michael Millward say in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (1848):

“But I have heard that, with some persons, temperance—that is, moderation—is almost impossible; and if abstinence be an evil (which some have doubted), no one will deny that excess is a greater. Some parents have entirely prohibited their children from tasting intoxicating liquors; but a parent’s authority cannot last for ever; children are naturally prone to hanker after forbidden things; and a child, in such a case, would be likely to have a strong curiosity to taste, and try the effect of what has been so lauded and enjoyed by others, so strictly forbidden to himself—which curiosity would generally be gratified on the first convenient opportunity; and the restraint once broken, serious consequences might ensue. I don’t pretend to be a judge of such matters, but it seems to me, that this plan of Mrs. Graham’s, as you describe it, Mrs. Markham, extraordinary as it may be, is not without its advantages; for here you see the child is delivered at once from temptation; he has no secret curiosity, no hankering desire; he is as well acquainted with the tempting liquors as he ever wishes to be; and is thoroughly disgusted with them, without having suffered from their effects.”

Once that text is etiolated, the parson is suggesting if one’s children are introduced to strong drink under parental supervision, they’ll be less likely to grow up as drunken philanders and sluts.  Did, in general discourse, even the most loquacious Church of England clergy of the 1840s talk in the way the author would have us believe or did novelists write in an elaborated, formalized style because that’s what their readers wanted?  It can’t be certain because there are only letters and no audio recordings; such transcripts as we have are from formal, set piece events like public addresses or debates in parliament which are hardly representative but on the basis of what was reported as the way “educated folk” spoke in court proceedings, it was with nothing like the prolixity of Ms Brontë’s reverend gentleman.  But that was the way fiction so often was written and the works of some who have contributed much to the canon must strike the modern reader as “artificially ornate” including John Milton (1608–1674), Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804–1864), Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849), Herman Melville (1819–1891) and Thomas Hardy (1840–1928).  Write now as they did now and expect to be accused of writing purple passages.

Beans, etiolated (left) and not (right).

For most of human history, the purpose in agriculture was to cultivate plants for optimal growth and productivity but in the eighteenth century the technique of deliberate etiolation emerged as a niche industry with specific goals.  What the gardeners did was at certain point in a plant’s development to deprive it of light while continuing to supply water and fertilizer.  What this cause was for the foliage to lose its natural color and tend towards being white, manifested usually in a “straw-like” coloring although some outcomes truly were white.  Additionally, many plants would grow with long, weak & slender stems, the elongation thought elegant compared with the thick, robust structures of those which remained exposed to natural light.  In biological terms, what the plants were doing was devoting all available energy to grow longer in the search for light, that essential element of photosynthesis, the process with which plants convert the energy from light (historically sunlight) into the chemical energy (notably sugars) used by their metabolism.

Delightfully etiolated: A stunningly pale Lindsay Lohan leaving the Byron & Tracey salon, Beverly Hills, California, September 2011.

Although the technique was used of seedlings which were started indoors or in a sheltered spot, encouraging early growth before being transplanted outside in the spring, etiolated plants were valued most for their aesthetic appeal, the association of white with not only delicacy & purity but also wealth because the pale complexion of the rich was a symbol of a privileged existence not spent toiling in the fields under the harsh sun which so darkened the skin of peasants.  Thus, etiolated plants, with their long, slender stems were prized for their visual appeal in gardens and floral arrangements while small, leafed vegetables in an unusually pale hue were prized by the chefs of the rich because they were so useful in making food into “plate art” a thing then as now and that such produce invariably lacked taste was just a price to be paid for the effect.  Of course etiolation tended to weaken plants so it was only ever a niche product for a high-priced market segment but, in controlled conditions, it did prove a useful technique in selective breeding for specific traits and it’s believed some of the long-stemmed plants still cultivated today are varieties which date for the era.

Natural selection means plants do tend to grow towards the light but many like also to grow vertically, something Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) had plenty of time to observe while serving in Berlin’s Spandau prison the twenty year sentence he was lucky to have been handed by the IMT (International Military Tribunal) in the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) for war crimes (Count three of the indictment) and crimes against humanity (Count 4).  In his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries) (1975)) he noted the mixed behaviour of the seeds he planted:

June 25, 1951: A month ago I planted peas, in groups of three, at depths of seven, fifteen, twenty-five, and forty centimeters, and watered them plentifully.  Today I undertake a cautious excavation. Even when the eye was down, the shoot turned in a sharp arc and grew vertically upward. None of the many shoots left the vertical by so much as a few degrees, not even those that germinated at a depth of forty centimeters.  Only one pea at a depth of twenty-five centimeters lost its sense of direction and grew into a confused snarl of thick threads.  In greenhouses, heating cables often keep the temperatures under the roots higher than on the surface.  So it cannot be the sun’s warmth.  A pine tree twenty meters tall growing by a shady cliff in the Black Forest does not grow toward the light, but vertically upward. Gravity, then?  It is particularly important for technology, which tries to achieve reactions similar to that of the pea, to investigate such guidance mechanisms.  New experiment.  I have dug a pit forty centimeters in depth.  At the bottom of it I lay out a row of alternating beans and peas. I close off the side toward the south with a pane of glass.  Then I fill in the pit with topsoil.  The arrangement is such that the surface of the soil is just as far from the seeds as the pane of glass.  Consequently warmth and light operate with equal intensity on both sides.  If growth is determined by one of these influences, the peas would have to grow toward the glass.  But I am still assuming that the plants have a tendency to oppose the pull of gravity.

August 22, 1951: Once again the peas have grown upward with amazing directional impulse, without reacting to the sunlight offered from the side.  Out of thirty peas, eleven have found the long way, forty centimeters, to the surface. Two peas gave up after they had grown twenty centimeters, and several others became impatient with this long distance for growing.  About eight centimeters under the surface of the soil they sent out side shoots with formed leaves.  But these peas, too, were disciplined enough to abandon these energy-consuming shoots after half a centimeter. What vital energy is displayed in these physical achievements, elaborating from a tiny round pea a tube one to one and a half millimeters in thickness and forty centimeters in length.  As I suspected, no such strong biological “instinct” can be ascribed to the beans. Out of six beans, only a single one tried to make its way to the surface, and it too gave up several centimeters before it reached its goal, while the others, obviously confused, sent shoots out in various directions from the seed.  What brings about such different behavior in such closely related plants?

Ballistic

Ballistic (pronounced buh-lis-tik)

(1) A projected object having its subsequent travel determined or describable by the laws of exterior ballistics, most used in denoting or relating to the flight of projectiles after the initial thrust has been exhausted, moving under their own momentum and subject to the external forces of gravity and the fluid dynamics of air resistance

(2) Of or relating to ballistics.

(3) In slang and idiomatic use, (as “go ballistic”, “went ballistic” etc), to become overwrought or irrational; to become enraged or frenziedly violent.  For those who need to be precise is describing such instances, the comparative is “more ballistic” and the superlative “most ballistic”.

(4) Of a measurement or measuring instrument, depending on a brief impulse or current that causes a movement related to the quantity to be measured

(5) Of materials, those able to resist damage (within defined parameters) by projectile weapons (ballistic nylon; ballistic steel etc), the best-know use of which is the “ballistics vest”.

(6) As “ballistics gel(atin)”, as substance which emulates the characteristics and behavior under stress of human or animal flesh (used for testing the effect of certain impacts, typically shells fired from firearms).

(7) As “ballistic podiatry”, industry slang for “the act of shooting oneself in the foot”, used also by military doctors to describe soldiers with such self-inflicted injuries.  The more general term for gunshot wounds is “ballistic trauma”

(8) In ethno-phonetics, as “ballistic syllable”, a phonemic distinction in certain Central American dialects, characterized by a quick, forceful release and a rapid crescendo to a peak of intensity early in the nucleus, followed by a rapid, un-controlled decrescendo with fade of voicing.

(9) As “ballistic parachute”, a parachute used in light aircraft and helicopters, ejected from its casing by a small explosion.

1765–1775: The construct was the Latin ballist(a) (a siege engine (ancient military machine) for throwing stones to break down fortifications), from the Ancient Greek βαλλίστρα (ballístra), from βάλλω (bállō) (I throw). +‎ -ic.  The -ic suffix was from the Middle English -ik, from the Old French -ique, from the Latin -icus, from the primitive Indo-European -kos & -ḱos, formed with the i-stem suffix -i- and the adjectival suffix -kos & -ḱos.  The form existed also in the Ancient Greek as -ικός (-ikós), in Sanskrit as -इक (-ika) and the Old Church Slavonic as -ъкъ (-ŭkŭ); A doublet of -y.  In European languages, adding -kos to noun stems carried the meaning "characteristic of, like, typical, pertaining to" while on adjectival stems it acted emphatically; in English it's always been used to form adjectives from nouns with the meaning “of or pertaining to”.  A precise technical use exists in physical chemistry where it's used to denote certain chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a higher oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ous; (eg sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  The modern use (of the big military rockets or missiles (those guided while under propulsion, but which fall freely to their point of impact (hopefully the intended target)) dates from 1949 although the technology pre-dated the label.  The term “ballistic missile” seems first to have appeared in 1954 and remains familiar in the “intercontinental ballistic missile” (ICBM).  The figurative use (“go ballistic”, “went ballistic”) to convey “an extreme reaction; to become irrationally angry” is said to have been in use only since 1981 which is surprising.  To “go thermo-nuclear” or “take the nuclear option” are companion phrases but the nuances do differ.  The noun ballistics (art of throwing large missiles; science of the motion of projectiles) seems first to have appeared in 1753 and was from the Latin ballist(a), from the Ancient Greek ballistes, from ballein (to throw, to throw so as to hit that at which the object is aimed (though used loosely also in the sense “to put, place, lay”)), from the primitive Indo-European root gwele- (to throw, reach).  In the technical jargon of the military and aerospace industries, the derived forms included (hyphenated and not) aeroballistic, antiballistic, astroballistic, ballistic coefficient, quasiballistic, semiballistic, subballistic, superballistic & thermoballistic.  In science and medicine, the forms include bioballistic, cardioballistic, electroballistic and neuroballistic.  Ballistic & ballistical are adjectives, ballisticity, ballistician & ballistics are nouns and ballistically is an adverb; the wonderful noun plural is ballisticies.

The basilisk was a class of large bore, heavy bronze cannons used during the late Middle Ages and in their time were a truly revolutionary weapon, able quickly to penetrate fortifications which in some cases had for centuries enabled attacks to be resisted.  Although there were tales of basilisks with a bores between 18-24 inches (460-610 mm), these were almost certainly a product of the ever-fertile medieval imagination and there’s no evidence any were built with a bore exceeding 5 inches (125 mm).  As a high-velocity weapon however, that was large enough for it to be highly effective, the 160 lb (72 kg) shot carrying a deadly amount of energy and able to kill personnel or destroy structures.  Because of the explosive energy needed to project the shot, the barrels of the larger basilicks could weigh as much as 4000 lb (1,800 kg); typically they were some 10 feet (3 m) in length but the more extraordinary, built as long-range devices, could be as long as 25 feet (7.6 m).  Despite the similarity in form, the name basilisk was unrelated to “ballistics” and came from the basilisk of mythology, a fire-breathing, venomous serpent able to kill and destroy, its glace alone deadly.  It was thus a two part allusion (1) the idea of “spitting fire” and (2) the thought the mere sight of an enemy’s big canons would be enough to scare an opponent into retreat.

As soon as it appeared in Europe, it was understood the nature of battlefields would change and the end of the era of the castle was nigh.  It was the deployment of the big cannons which led to the conquest of Constantinople (capital of the Byzantine Empire now Istanbul in the Republic of Türkiye) in 1453 after a 53 day siege; the city’s great walls which for centuries had protected it from assault were worn down by the cannon fire to the point where the defenders couldn’t repair the damage at the same rate as the destruction.  In an example of the way economics is a critical component of war, the Austrian cannon makers had offered the cannons to the Byzantines but the empire was in the throes of one of the fiscal crises which determined to outcomes of so many conflicts and had no money with which to make the purchase.  The practical Austrians then sold their basilisks to the attacking Ottoman army and the rest is history.  Despite such successes, the biggest of the basilisks became rare after the mid sixteenth century as military tactics evolved to counter their threat by becoming more mobile and the traditional siege of static targets became less decisive and smaller, more easily transported cannon, lighter and cheaper to produce, came to dominate artillery formations.

Queen Elizabeth's Pocket Pistol, Navy, Army and Air Force Institute Building, Dover Castle, Dover, Kent, England.

Queen Elizabeth's Pocket Pistol was a basilisk built in 1544 in Utrecht (in the modern-day Netherlands), the name derived from it being a presented to Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) as a for his daughter (the future Elizabeth I (1533–1603; Queen of England & Ireland 1558-1603) although the first known reference to it being called “Queen Elizabeth's Pocket Pistol” dates from 1767. Some 24 feet (7.3 m) in length and with a 4.75 inch (121 mm) bore, it was said to be able to launch a 10 lb (4.5 kg) ball almost 2000 yards (1.8 km) although as a typical scare tactic, the English made it known to the French and Spanish that its shots were heavier and able to reach seven miles (12 km).  Just to makes sure the point was understood, it was installed to guard the approaches to the cliffs of Dover.  Modern understandings of the physics of ballistics and the use of computer simulations have since suggested there may have been some exaggeration in even the claim of a 2000 yard range and it was likely little more than half that.  Such use of propaganda remains part of the military arsenal to this day.

It was fake news:  Responding to viral reports, the authoritative E!-News in April 2013 confirmed Lindsay Lohan did not "go ballistic" and attack her ex-assistant at a New York City club.  For some reason, far and wide, the fake news had been believed.

Despite the costs involved and the difficulties in maintaining and transporting big cannons, some militaries couldn’t resist them and predictably, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), who thought just about everything (buildings, tanks, trains, monuments, cars, battleships et al) should be bigger, oversaw some of the most massive artillery pieces ever built, often referred to by historians as “super heavy guns”.  The term is no exaggeration and the most striking example were the Schwerer Gustav and Dora.  With a bore of 31.5 inches (800 mm), the Schwerer Gustav and Dora apparatus weighed 1350 tons (1225 tonnes) and could fire a projectile as heavy as 7.1 tons (6.4 tonnes) some 29 miles (47 km).  Two were built, configured as “railway guns” and thus of most utility in highly developed areas where rail tracks lay conveniently close to the targets.  The original design brief from the army ordinance office required long-range device able to destroy heavily fortified targets and for that purpose, they could be effective.  However, each demands as crew of several thousand soldiers, technicians & mechanics with an extensive logistical support system in place to support their operation which could be fewer than one firing per day.  The Schwerer Gustav’s most successful deployment came during the siege of Sevastopol (1942).  Other big-bore weapons followed but success prove patchy, especially as allied control of the skies made the huge, hard to hid machines vulnerable to attack and even mounting them inside rock formations couldn’t resist the Royal Air Force’s (RAF) new, ground-penetrating bombs.

Schwerer Gustav being readied for a test firing, Rügenwalde, Germany, 19 March 1943, Hitler standing second from the right with Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) to his right.  Hitler referred to huge gun as “meine stählerne faust” (my steel fist) but it never fulfilled his high expectations and like many of the gigantic machines which so fascinated the Führer (who treated complaints about their ruinous cost as “tiresome”) it was a misallocation of scarce resources.

It was the development of modern ballistic rockets during World War II (1939-1945) which put an end to big guns (although the Iraqi army did make a quixotic attempt to resurrect the concept, something which involved having a British company “bust” UN (United Nations) sanctions by claiming their gun barrel components were “oil pipes”), the German’s A4 (V-2) rocket the world’s first true long-range ballistic missile. The V-2 represented a massive leap forward in both technology and military application and briefly it would touch “the edge of space” before beginning its ballistic trajectory, reaching altitudes of over 100 km (62 miles) before descending toward its target.  Everything in the field since has to some degree been an evolution of the V-2, the three previous landmarks being (1) the Chinese “Fire Arrows” of the early thirteenth century which were the most refined of the early gunpowder-filled rockets which followed a simple ballistic path, (2) the eighteenth century Indian Mysorean Rockets with the considerable advance of metal casings, the great range a shock to soldiers of the British Raj who had become accustomed to enjoying a technology advantage and (3) the British Congreve Rockets of the early nineteenth century, essentially a refinement of Mysorean enhanced by improved metallurgy and aerodynamics and made more effective still when combined with the well organized logistics of the British military.