Pitcher

Pitcher (pronounced pich-er)

(1) A jug-like container, usually with a handle and narrow-necked spout or lip, for holding and pouring liquids; historically of earthenware, they now can be made of many materials (glass, plastic, metal etc).

(2) In botany, a pitcher-like or flask-shaped organ or appendage of a plant or its leaves; any of the urn-shaped leaves of the pitcher plant.

(3) In zoology, one of the former genus Ascidium of simple ascidians (sea squirts).

(4) In the sport of golf, a club with an iron head the face of which has more slope than a mashie but less slope than a pitching niblick (known also as a seven iron). 

(5) In stone-masonry, a granite stone or sett used in paving (known also as a sett).

(6) An adaptation of a crowbar, used for digging (obsolete).

(7) In slang, a drug dealer (usually one at the lowest (street level) level of the supply chain).

(8) In slang (UK criminal class), one who is the final link in the chain (ie the one handing the notes) to the retailer etc) putting counterfeit currency into circulation (obsolete).

(9) In slang, a street vendor, a “fly-pitcher” being an illicit street trader (one operating without permission or a license).

(10) In publishing, film or music production etc, an individual who delivers the pitch (the proposal) to secure funding, publishing contract etc; by extension a person who advocates an idea, concept or plan).

(11) A person who throws, tosses, casts etc something.

(12) In the sports of baseball, softball & pesäpallo, the player who throws (ie pitches) the ball to the opposition’s batters.

(13) In the slang (originally US) of the (male) gay community, the “top” (the “dominant” (in the penetrator)) partner in a homosexual encounter between two men, the other being the “catcher” (ie the “bottom”) (the “pitcher-catcher” comparison from the sport of baseball).

1250–1300: From the Middle English picher, from the Old French bichier, pichier & pechier (small jug) (which endures in modern French as pichet), from the Late Latin &  Medieval Latin picārium, a variant of bicārium (beaker), possibly from bacarium & bacar or from the Ancient Greek βῖκος (bîkos).  The use in the sense of “throwing something emerged between 1700-1710, the construct being pitch + -er.  The noun pitch (in the sense of throw, toss, cast etc) was from the Middle English picchen & pycchen (to thrust in, fasten, settle), from the Old English piċċan, from the Proto-West Germanic pikkijan, a variant of the Proto-West Germanic pikkōn (to pick, peck), from which Middle English gained pikken & picken (to pick, pierce) and modern English, pick.  The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought most likely to have been borrowed from the Latin –ārius where, as a suffix, it was used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals.  In English, the –er suffix, when added to a verb, created an agent noun: the person or thing that doing the action indicated by the root verb.   The use in English was reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant -our), from the Latin -ātor & -tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  When appended to a noun, it created the noun denoting an occupation or describing the person whose occupation is the noun.  In botany, user have the pleasure of the adjective urceolate (comparative more urceolate, superlative most urceolate) meaning “having an urceolus (shaped like an urn), the word from the Latin urceolus (a little pitcher, more familiar as urceolatus), diminutive of urceus (any urn-shaped organ of a plant.).  Pitcher & pitcherful are nouns and pitcherlike & picchered are adjectives; the noun plural is pitchers.

Nepenthes holdenii, a tropical, meat-eating pitcher plant endemic in western Cambodia.  For carnivorous plants, the "pitcher" structure confers advantages in harvesting so the process of natural selection is ideal, the advantages conferred by the shape thus favored by natural selection.  

In idiomatic use a “little pitcher” was “a small child” and the phrase “little pitchers have big (sometimes “long”) ears” meant adults should exercise caution when talking in the presence of children because what is said may over overheard and understood or misunderstood (both, for different reasons, potentially leading to bad outcomes).  The “ears” in the phrase was an allusion to the ear-shaped handles common on pitchers used for serving liquids.  “Pitcher-bawd” was old sailor’s slang for an old or at least semi-retired prostitute (ie “past her best”) who worked in a tavern fetching pitchers of beer for patrons.  A “rinse-pitcher” was a notorious drunkard while the proverb “the pitcher goes so often to the well that it is broken at last” (expressed also as “the jug goes to the well until it breaks” meant “if even the best article is used often enough, eventually it will wear out or break down.

Even for those not convinced by the “language of Shakespeare and Milton” shtick, there are persuasive reasons to learn English.  That may not extend to the playwrights or lyric poets and in truth, most native English-speakers are probably acquainted with the works of William Shakespeare (1564–1616) and John Milton (1608–1674) only through filmed adaptations or the odd (sometimes misquoted or wrongly attributed) phrase but both remain a still influential part of the language’s lineage.  Students new to the tongue probably appreciate some of English’s structural simplicity and come to value the flexibility and wide vocabulary but what must mystify them is the way certain words (with the same pronunciation or spelling (or both)) can enjoy a multiplicity of meanings; indeed some words can appear in the same sentence with one instance meaning one thing and one another.  Apparently this does happen in other languages but in English the phenomenon is thought to be more frequent and the paradox is that despite the huge word count, there are many of these dualities (and beyond) of meaning.

Lindsay Lohan has of late proved a prolific pitcher of products including Pure Leaf Tea.

When being taught the word “pitch”, students surely must think the scope of meanings bizarre.  As a noun “pitch” can be (1) a surface (such as that upon which cricket or other games are played), (2) a relative point, position, or degree (such a “high pitch of excitement”), (3) the highest point or greatest height, (4) in music, speech, etc, “the degree of height or depth of a tone or of sound, depending upon the relative rapidity of the vibrations by which it is produced, (5) in acoustics, the apparent predominant frequency sounded by an acoustical source, (6) the act of throwing, tossing etc or the manner of so doing, (7) in nautical use the movement or forward plunge of a vessel, (8) the extent of the upward or downward inclination of a slope or the slope itself, (9) the advocacy of something for some purpose (often as “sales pitch”), (10) the specific location allotted to or assigned for some person, object or purpose, (11) in aeronautics, the nosing of an airplane or spacecraft up or down about a transverse axis or the distance a given propeller would advance in one revolution (hence there being “variable pitch” and “fixed pitch” propellers, (12) in the flight of rockets or missiles, either the motion due to pitching or the extent of the rotation of the longitudinal axis involved in pitching, (13) in geology, the inclination (from the horizontal) of a linear feature (as the axis of a fold or an ore-shoot) (also called “the plunge”, (14), in mechanical engineering, (14a) the distance between the corresponding surfaces of two adjacent gear teeth measured either along the pitch circle circular pitch or between perpendiculars to the root surfaces normal pitch; (14b) the ratio of the number of teeth in a gear or splined shaft to the pitch circle diameter (expressed in inches or fractions of an inch) or (14c) the distance between any two adjacent things in a series (as screw threads, rivets, holes drilled etc), (15) in carpet weaving) the weft-wise number of warp ends, usually determined in relation to 27 inches (686 mm), (16) in stone masonry, a true or even surface on a stone, (17) in typography, a unit of measurement indicating the number of characters to a horizontal inch, (18) in cards, an alternative name for “all fours” (known also as “high-low-jack”, “old sledge” & “seven-up”), (19) in golf (as a clipping of “pitch shot”), an approach (to the green) shot in which the ball is struck in a high arc, (20) any of various heavy dark viscious substances obtained as a residue from the distillation of tars (often as coal-tar pitch); any of various similar substances, such as asphalt, occurring as natural deposits; any of various similar substances obtained by distilling certain organic substances so that they are incompletely carbonized and (21) crude turpentine obtained as sap from pine trees.

A picture of Lindsay Lohan with pitcher of milk making a “dirty soda” during her pitch for PepsiCo's Pilk promotion.  It was recommended a pilk be enjoyed with a cookie (“biscuit” to those in certain places) but opinion remains divided on the combo.

Once students have begun to master how many forks and layers of meaning can co-exist in “pitch” & “pitcher”, they can then ponder the latter’s homophone: “picture”.  Although it also enjoys other meaning, the core understanding of “picture” is as a representation of anything or anyone and one can exist as a painting, a print, a photograph, a drawing etc with the only definitional constraint probably that it should be on a flat surface; anything beyond that a it becomes an “installation” or something else.  A “three-dimensional picture” remains a picture if the effect is achieved with multi-layer technology but if it becomes topographic beyond the thickness of the paint, it’s probably an installation, model or something else.  Picture was from the Middle English pycture, from the Old French picture, from the Latin pictūra (the art of painting, a painting), from pingō (I paint).  The pitcher vs picture thing is an example (like sealing vs ceiling”) of how words with different spellings and meanings yet the same pronunciation independently can evolve and there are also words with the same spelling and pronunciation meaning different (sometimes even opposite) things (consider “sanction”).

American Gothic (1930), oil on beaverboard by Grant Wood (1891-1942), Art Institute of Chicago.

One of the most discussed, analysed and parodied paintings in twentieth century US art, every aspect of element in American Gothic has likely appeared in at least one earnest thesis and the pitchfork has been held to be as highly symbolic as well an interesting compositional feature.  Structurally, the pitchfork’s vertical shaft functions as a formal echo of other vertical and pointed elements (the architecture and the upright rigidity of the subjects) with the tool’s three tines parallel with both the elongated Gothic window behind and the seams and patterns of the clothing.  The technique lends the work a geometric coherence.  Symbolically, the visual austerity hints at the qualities stereotypically associated with rural Protestant rectitude and obviously, a pitchfork is emblematic of the manual agricultural labor which fulfilled such a vital role in the pre-industrial US.  Tellingly, Wood painted the work just as the effects of the Great Depression were beginning to be felt, threatening rural self-sufficiency and traditional American farming life.  That’s why critics think it significant the farmer’s grip on the handle seems so assertively tight, holding, as it were, onto a way of life which suddenly felt vulnerable, the message one of defiance, the pitchfork a barrier between subjects and viewers.

The picture has always been regarded as a snapshot (however inaccurately) of world-view of those of the Midwestern agrarian population, conveying sternness, frugality, guardedness, moral vigilance, thrift and an abiding suspicion of outsiders, thus the imagining of the pitchfork as a symbolic weapon rather than an emblem of pastoral warmth.  This is not a sentimental piece as so many depictions of rural scenes have been and whether the artist intended American Gothic to be ironic, satirical or a homage has never been certain because Wood at times gave interviewers different hints so it’s there for viewers to make of it what they will but it’s not hard to interpret the pitchfork as the visual spine, both compositionally and symbolically.

Portrait of the Irish playwright and Nobel laureate in literature, George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950), oil on canvas by the Welsh artist Augustus John (1878–1961), Shaw's Corner, Hertfordshire.  In a long life, GBS pitched many things including Esperanto and, as one of the “useful idiots” (the crew contemptuously acknowledged by comrade Vladimir Lenin (1870–1924; head of government of Russia or Soviet Union 1917-1924)), the Soviet Union of comrade Joseph Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953).

In Modern English, as many as 175,000 words are thought to be “the core” (those in general, common use) while the count may be over 600,00 if historic, archaic forms are included and it’d go over a million if scientific and technical coinings were added.  There are of course reasons for this, the obvious one being English was a product of a long evolution with roots in Ancient Greek, Latin, French, various Germanic dialects and more and even when it (sort of) forked into something recognizably “English”, evolution was still often regional with spelling and meanings existing in parallel, centuries before mass-produced dictionaries emerged to begin the path towards standardization.  That messiness was avoided by the Esperantoists of the late nineteenth century who were able to craft their “international auxiliary language” freed from the constraints of existing use and thus achieve a lexicon characterized by words with exclusivity of meaning.  That sounds like it’d make it an attractive alternative to untidy English but English has the unique advantage of a global critical mass, something achieved by (1) the cultural imperialism first of the British Empire and later the United States and (2) being the “native” language of computing, the internet and all that.  Apart from the Greek, Latin and other sources, English proved linguistically a slut, because as explorers, soldiers, traders and colonialists spread globally (variously to explore, battle, trade, exploit, occupy etc), not only did they steal people, resources and land, shamelessly they also absorbed words from Africa, the Middle East and, most numerously, the Indian sub-continent during the British Raj.

This is a representation of “pitch black”.  Although used loosely to mean something like “very dark”, strictly speaking, “pitch black” should be used only to covey the idea of an “absence of light”, the allusion to tar, a black, oily, sticky, viscous substance, consisting mainly of hydrocarbons derived from organic materials such as wood, peat, or coal.

The terms “pitch black”, “pitch darkness” etc are a reference to the blackness of pitch in the sense of “tar” and in mineralogy, pitchblende is a naturally-occurring uranium oxide, a variety of the mineral uraninite.  As a verb, pitch can be used variously as “to pitch a tent” (ie erect one’s tent, that use based on an obsolete use of pitch to mean “firmly to fix (embed) in the ground”), “make a pitch for something” (suggest some course of action or try to sell something”), pitch (throw) a ball (most associated with baseball), cut a stone with a chisel.  In (now obsolete) historic military jargon, “to pitch” was “to arrange the field of battle” and although the term has fallen from use, the practice persists although few field commanders would now suggest the object is (as once did Field Marshal Lord Bernard Montgomery, 1887–1976) to make things “clean and tidy”.  Also now obsolete is the use of “to pitch” meaning “to settle down (in one place); to become established”; that had been based on the old use meaning “firmly to fix (embed) in the ground”.

Comrade Fidel Castro (1926–2016; prime-minister or president of Cuba 1959-2008, left) and Jimmy Carter (b 1924; POTUS 1977-1981), Estadio Latinoamericano (Latin American Stadium), Havana, Cuba, May 2002.  In Mr Carter's right hand is the baseball he's about to pitch.

In baseball, the “ceremonial first pitch” is a “symbolic pitch” (ie one with no consequence in the game) staged as a prelude to the game proper.  POTUESes and others have been among the celebrities engaged as “ceremonial pitchers” and some have proved more adept than others.  Jimmy Carter in 2002 made a private visit to Havana with the hope of improving relations between Cuba and the US, strained since the Cuban revolution in 1959.  In the short term, little that could be called substantive would be achieved but what would now be called “the optics” were good, comrade Castro inviting the former president to throw the ceremonial first pitch at a Cuban League All-Star Game in Havana's Estadio Latinoamericano.  Apparently, baseball fan comrade Castro personally provided training in “making the perfect pitch” but, just to be sure, Mr Carter also had a few sessions with his Secret Service detail, reportedly on the roof of his hotel.  On the night, he threw what was described as “a good pitch” and it was well received by the capacity crowd, the event in the history books as a rare example of diplomacia del beisbol (baseball diplomacy) and the sport does appear in the odd footnote in presidential histories.  On the opening day (13 April) of the 1964 MLB (Major League Baseball) season at Washington DC’s District of Columbia Stadium (now the Robert F. Kennedy Memorial Stadium), Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1969-1969) set the record for the most hot dogs eaten by a president on Opening Day, all four scoffed down in the approved manner (ie without resort to knife & fork).  The record still stands, something which must not have been brought to the attention of Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) because, if he knew, there would have been a post on Truth Social correcting the record by revealing he'd once eaten five.

Baseball has variants of the position of pitcher (the player who throws the ball to the opposition batter) including “non-pitcher” (team member who does not pitch and is thus obliged to bat, “relief pitcher” (a pitcher who takes the place of the “starting pitcher” (or another relief pitcher) in cases of injury, ineffectiveness, ejection from the game or fatigue, “switch pitcher” (a pitcher who play ambidextrously (pitches both right & left-handed), “setup pitcher” (a relief pitcher who pitches usually in the 8^th inning to maintain a lead, serving as the bridge to the closer in the 9^th, “middle relief pitcher” (MRP) (a relief pitcher who pitches usually the 5^th, 6^th or 7^th innings to bridge the gap between the starting pitcher and late-inning relievers (setup or closer pitchers) and “closer pitcher” (A specialist relief pitcher skilled in securing the final outs, typically in the 9^th inning, to protect a narrow lead or ear a “save”.

Cardigan

Cardigan (pronounced kahr-di-ghun)

(1) A usually collarless knitted sweater or jacket that opens down the front, usually with buttons (sometimes a zip); in some places also called a cardigan sweater or cardigan jacket.

(2) The larger variety of corgi, having a long tail.

1868: Adopted as the name for a close-fitting knitted woolen jacket or waistcoat, named after James Thomas Brudenell (1797-1868), seventh Earl of Cardigan, the English general who led the charge of the Light Brigade (1854) at Balaklava (Balaclava) during the Crimean War (1853-1856) although the fanciful account of him wearing such a garment during the charge is certainly apocryphal.  The place name Cardigan is an English variation of the Welsh Ceredigion, (literally “Ceredig's land”, named after an inhabitant of the fifth century).  Cardigans usually have buttons but zips are not unknown and there are modern (post-war) variations which have no buttons, hanging open by design and reaching sometimes to the knees.  These sometimes have a tie at the waist and the fashion industry usually lists them as robes but customers seem to continue to call them cardigans.  From its military origins, the term originally referred only to a knitted sleeveless vest, the use extending to more familiar garments only in the twentieth century.  Coco Chanel (1883-1971) popularized them for women, noting they could be worn, unlike a pullover, without messing the hair.  Cardigans were one of the first items to which Chanel added the influential weighted hems.  The most usual contraction is now cardi displacing the earlier cardie (cardy the rarely seen alternative). Cardigan is a noun and cardiganlike, cardiganless & cardiganed are adjectives; the noun plural is cardigans.

Lord Cardigan, engraved by D.J. Pound (1820-1894) from a photograph, published in The Drawing-Room of Eminent Personages, Volume 2 (London, 1860).  At the time, in the British Army, moustaches were then a thing which verged on the obligatory.

The cardigan claimed to have been modelled after the knitted wool waistcoat worn by British officers during the Crimean war but the origin of the design is contested, one story being it was an invention of Lord Cardigan, inspired by him noticing the tails of his coat had been accidentally burnt off in a fireplace although the more common version is it was simply a practical adaptation to keep soldiers warm in the depths of a Crimean winter.  So, although the fireplace story is romantic, it may be a military myth but may not be unique.  In the appendix of names to the Dairies of Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) (edited by Michael Davie (1924-2005) and published in 1976), it was noted the solicitor Edmund Sidney Pollock “E.S.P.” Haynes (1877–1949) “died after his shirt-tails caught alight while he stood in front of his bedroom gas fire.”  Whether that was the immediate cause of death or simply a contributing factor isn’t clear because other sources record his cause of death as “pneumonia”, in those days known to doctors as the “old man’s friend” because “it carried them off so quickly”.  Haynes had acted for Waugh in the 1930 divorce from his first wife (Evelyn Gardner (1903–1994), one of the original “Bright Young Things” of fashionable London in the 1920s); the troubled, unsatisfactory marriage endured barely two years and its sundering saddened those in society who had enjoyed being able to refer to the couple as “He-Evelyn & She-Evelyn”.  As was his habit with those he knew, Waugh used She-Evelyn as the model for the adulteress Brenda Last in his novel A Handful of Dust (1934); after the divorce, they would never meet again.

In some circles, the cardigan in the twenty-first century gained a new lease on life because the style made it ideal for use in the “curtain reveal” manner.  Actress Katie Holmes (b 1978) demonstrates the motif wearing a two-piece ensemble (cardigan with bra in the same cashmere knit; the latest variant of the twin set idea) from Khaite.

Although he made his living as a solicitor, Haynes interests were wide and he was a prolific author (of law, women's suffrage philosophy, politics and more) and one of the eccentric figures who once made English literature an interesting place.  At the professional level, his greatest contribution to the law was the effect his work in reforming the country’s then onerous divorce laws ultimately would yield but his career ended badly, in 1948 struck off the Solicitors' Rolls for a failure “properly to maintain books of accounts”.  Acknowledged as possessing a brilliant mind, his lifestyle in middle age became careless and it’s said his lunch “rarely would finish before four” and he had the unusual habit of maintaining “…at the end of his table a store of bottles jars and tins containing garlic, biscuits, sauces etc.”  Again, Waugh’s journalistic eye took all this in and Haynes inspired the vivid descriptions of the eating practices of boot family at Boot Magna Hall in the novel Scoop (1938).  The long lunches took their toll and he was later compelled to wear a sort of corset to lift and hold in suspension his sagging belly, the weight supported by stout shoulder straps, the construction imagined conceptually as a “large, single cup bra”.  Whether the consequent lack of mobility had anything to do with his shirt tails catching fire seems not anywhere mentioned but such a physique would not have assisted a recovery from consumption (pneumonia).  

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) in twinset cardigan, Los Angeles, January 2012.

Twinset is the term used when a cardigan is worn with a matching sleeveless or short-sleeved pullover sweater.  Historians note that although the twinset, attributed to both Coco Chanel and Elsa Schiaparelli (1890–1973), was a fashion innovation first seen during the 1920s, it didn’t achieve widespread popularity until the early post-war years.  The mildly disparaging term twinset and pearls references both the perceived social class and conservatism of those characterised as especially fond of the combination though it has been reclaimed and is now often worn without any sense of irony.  Fashion advisors note also that the classic mix of twinset and skirt can be leveraged with a simple multiplier effect: One set of the garments provides one outfit but if one buys two of each in suitability sympathetic colors, then six distinct combinations are produced while if another skirt and twinset is added, suddenly one's wardrobe contains eighteen outfits.  It's the joy of math.

Kendall Jenner (b 1995), Paris, March 2023.

Few motifs draw the fashionista's eye like asymmetry and in March 2023, model Kendall Jenner (b 1995) wore an all-gray ensemble which combined the functionality of a cardigan, dress, skirt & sweater.  Designed by Ann Demeulemeester (b 1959) and fashioned in a wool knit with a draped neckline and asymmetrical leg slit, it was worn with a pair of the Row’s Italian-made Lady Stretch Napa leather tall boots with relatively modest 2½” (65 mm) stiletto heels.  Despite the extent of the exposed skin, the cut means it possible still to wrap for warmth and, being a wool knit, it’s a remarkably practical garment.  Because of the relatively light construction, most would regard this still as a type of cardigan but, if made with heavier fabrics, something using the same concept would be classed a coatigan (a portmanteau word, the construct being coat +‎ (card)igan) which is a hybrid of a coat and a cardigan.  Predictably, there are definitional gray areas and, as a general principle, whatever term the manufacturer uses is accepted.

CONELRAD

CONELRAD (pronounced kon-ill-rad or kon-ill-rid)

As an acronym: CONtrol of ELectromagnetic RADiation, a Cold War era  system of emergency public broadcasting developed by the US in the mid 1950s.

Exclusive to the US, CONELRAD was a nationally standardized system of emergency public broadcasting (on the AM (amplitude modulation) medium-wave band at 640 & 1240 kHz) intended to operate in the event of enemy attack during the Cold War.  The original specifications for what emerged as CONELRAD was first discussed at the "Informal Government-Industry Technical Conference" (March, 1951) and later published by the FCC (Federal Communications Commission): "The primary plan for alerting broadcast stations that is currently being considered by the FCC Study Group is known as the Key Station System.  The arrangement requires certain telephone circuits (private wire or direct line to Toll Board) between the Air Defense Control Centers (ADCC) and specified radio stations to be known as Basic Key Stations & Relay Key Stations”.

Cold War PSA (public service announcement).

The essence of the system was each Basic Key Station upon receiving an alert or warning signal from the ADCC would, upon instruction, broadcast a predetermined message and also relay the message by telephone to all Relay Key Stations assigned to each Basic Key Station.  As a diversified network designed to be able to continue functioning even if various parts were destroyed, it was conceptually similar to a later US military project which would later evolve into the internet.  Intended to be simple, robust and able to reach as wide a possible audience in the shortest possible time, CONELRAD used simple protocols for alerting the public and other "downstream" stations, consisting of a sequence of shutting the station off for five seconds, returning to the air for five seconds, again shutting down for five seconds, and then transmitting a tone for 15 seconds.  Key stations would be alerted directly and all other broadcast stations would monitor a designated station in their area.

In the event of an attack on the US, all domestic television and FM (frequency modulation) radio stations were required immediately to cease broadcasting and upon alert, almost all AM stations shut down, those remaining on-air transmitting either on 640 or 1240 kHz.  No transmission would last more than a few minutes and upon one going “off-air” another would take over the frequency on a ”round robin” chain, this to confuse enemy aircraft which might be navigating using RDF (Radio Direction Finding), a technique first widely used in the early days of World War II (1939-1945).  In the US, all radio sets manufactured between 1953-1963 were required to have the two frequencies marked by the triangle-in-circle (CD Mark), the symbol of Civil Defense organizations.  In 1963, CONELRAD was replaced by the EBS (Emergency Broadcast System) which operated until 1997 when all responsibilities were assumed by the FCC.

Diet Coke product placement in Mean Girls (2004).  One of the clues in identifying product placement is that items carefully are placed so brand-names are always legible.

Product placement, a technique on marketing in which products are brands are “worked into” something like a film or television programmes, is now so ubiquitous (witness the frequent appearance in Mean Girls (2004) of Coca-Cola, Doritos, Cheetos, Dunkin' Donuts, Red Bull, Silk Milk, Taco Bell etc) that there are now internet sleuths gleefully who document each instance.  Frequently, the presence of a product is merely an example of “brand awareness” with no substantive effect on the plot (in most cases it’s of no significance whether the characters drive Fords or Buicks or drink Pepsi or Coca-Cola) although there have been some deemed morally or politically dubious and variously they’ve involved things like alcohol, tobacco or firearms or institutions like the US military.  Known also as “embedded marketing”, the technique is most associated with commercial cinema where the stuff is easy to interpolate but there have been examples even in literary fiction, the best known being The Bulgari Connection (2001) by Fay Weldon (1931-2023).  In that, in exchange for an undisclosed payment, the author was required to make a specified number of mentions of the Italian luxury goods house Bulgari (generously, greatly she exceeded the quota).  Of course, that’s an example which became notorious and it’s not known how many other “respectable” novelists have been subsidized this way.

Stromberg-Carlson radio (with CONELRAD settings arrowed in red) promoted as one of the many “plusses” in the ownership of one of the Ford Motor Company's new Edsels.  In Australia, the phrase “it seemed like a good idea at the time”  is known colloquially as the “streaker's defence”.

The companion technique is “product association”.  Here, a company seeks in some obvious way to be associated with someone or some institution and in every glossy magazine there will, in one form or another, be probably dozens of examples.  Usually, “product association” is contractual with the consideration (usually cash or some form of contra arrangement) flowing one way or the other but the technique can also be executed as a form of “ambush marketing” (a hotel hiring for a morning a number of Ferraris, Lamborghinis and such to park outside for a photo-shoot, thereby hoping the “prestige” of the brands will “rub off”, despite the manufacturers receiving not a peppercorn for their unwitting participation).  More conventionally, it’s a normal commercial transaction entered into on terms agreeable to both parties and, if thought mutually beneficial, it may be on the basis of NMA (no monetary action).  In the matter of Stromberg-Carlson (by then a division of General Dynamics, now famous for nuclear submarines, warplanes and such) advertising their satisfaction at their new “transistorized” radio with “Town-and-Country tuning” being “one of the outstanding plus features of America’s newest car, the exciting Edsel”, it would have seemed like a good idea at the time.  By all accounts the Stromberg-Carlson car radios were fine devices but exhorting customers to: “See and drive the Edsel – it’s wonderful!” would have done nothing to enhance the corporate image.  That is of course a risk with product association: just as positive image can rub off, if things go awry, there’s a risk of that spreading too.  As it was, the Edsel venture floundered within three seasons but Stromberg-Carlson wasn’t part of the collateral damage.

1958 Edsel Citation Convertible, a failure with a fine CONERAD transistorized radio by Stromberg-Carlson.

Formed in 1894 as a partnership between Swedish immigrants Alfred Stromberg (1861-1913) and Androv Carlson (1854-1925), Stromberg-Carlson was for much of the twentieth century one of the dominant US manufacturers and distributors of electronics and telecommunications equipment.  As is modern corporate practice, Stromberg-Carlson became absorbed into other concerns and has since been part of the swirl of M&A (mergers & acquisitions) activities but it remains active in the industry.  Between 1906-1907, Alfred Stromberg dissolved his interests in telecommunications and formed what would become the Stromberg Motor Devices Company and ultimately Stromberg Carburetors.  In the post-war years, Zenith-Stromberg carburetors were used on a variety of British cars but they became well-known in the US after being adopted in the late 1960s because the company had a product which was ideally suited to complying with the increasingly stringent US emission regulations, the trade-off being some loss of performance, particularly at higher engine speeds.  In something like the Jaguar E-Type (XKE; 1961-1971), the switch from triple SU carburetors to dual Zenith-Strombergs meant the high-speed response suffered but, even in those happier days, there weren't than many who with any frequency explored how the things performed above 125 mph (200 km/h).

Heptadecaphobia

Heptadecaphobia (pronounced hepp-tah-dech-ah-foh-bee-uh)

Fear of the number 17.

1700s: The construct was the Ancient Greek δεκαεπτά (dekaepta) (seventeen) + φόβος (phobos).  The alternative form is septadecaphobia, troubling some the purists because they regard it as a Greek-Latin mongrel, the construct being the Latin septem (seven) + deca, from the Latin decas (ten), from the Ancient Greek δεκάς (dekás) (ten) + the Ancient Greek φόβος) (phobos) (fear).  Heptadecaphobia deconstructs as hepta- “seven” + deca (ten) + phobos.  The suffix -phobia (fear of a specific thing; hate, dislike, or repression of a specific thing) was from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía) and was used to form nouns meaning fear of a specific thing (the idea of a hatred came later).  Heptadecaphobia, heptadecaphobist, heptadecaphobism, heptadecaphobiac and heptadecaphobe are nouns, heptadecaphobic is a noun & adjective and heptadecaphobically is an adverb; the common (sic) noun plural is heptadecaphobes and they should number 59 million-odd (the population of Italy).

Morphologically, “heptadecaphilliac” is possible but is clumsy and unnecessary, the standard noun agent (-phile) rendering it redundant and although used, not all approve of the suffix -phobiac because it’s a later hybrid formation from modern English and thus judged “less elegant”.  The opposite condition (a great fondness for 17) is the noun heptadecaphilia, those with the condition being Heptadecaphiles, the derived words following the conventions used with heptadecaphobia.  Whether any of the derived forms have much (or ever) been used beyond lists asserting they exist (which, except as abstractions, may be dubious) is unlikely but concerned Italians should note the noun heptadecaphobist would seem to imply doctrinal adherence rather than suffering the fear.  Still, it’s there if the need exists for precision in one’s behavioural descriptors.  Modern English constructions (like heptadecaphobia) built from Greek morphemes are neo-classical” compounds rather than a “proper” words from the Ancient Greek and while some amuse or appal the classicists, in practice, variations in suffix-use have long be tolerated.

In Classical Greek, the cardinal number 17 was ἑπτακαίδεκα (heptakaídeka; literally “seven-and-ten”) but the Ancients were as adept as us at clipping for convenience and the variant ἑπταδέκα (heptadéka; literally “seven-ten”) also exists in surviving texts.  The shorter element embedded in heptadecaphobia corresponds to heptadeca- (from ἑπταδέκα) and genuinely that is Classical Greek, although, on the basis of the count from what documents are extant, it was less common than ἑπτακαίδεκα. The latter-day hybridization was inevitable because, as far as in known, “seventeen” had not before been used as a combining stem in compounds.  In English, the convention in neoclassical formation tends the sequence: (1) take the cardinal form, (2) drop the inflection and (3) treat it as a stem, thus the construct heptadeca + phobia, familiar to structuralists in the more common triskaidekaphobia which uses the Greek tris-kai-deka (“three and ten”) despite in genuine Greek morphology, compounds being not usually directly from ἑπταδέκα as a bound stem.  It’s better to follow modern practice rather than try to conjure something “classically pure” because although one could argue heptakaidekaphobia (closer to ἑπτακαίδεκα) is a better tribute to Antiquity, as well as being historically unattested, it’s phonetically cumbersome which seems a worse linguistic sin.

Just because a “fear of a number” is listed somewhere as a “phobia” doesn’t mean the condition has much of a clinical history or even that a single case is to be found in the literature; many may have been coined just for linguistic fun and students in classics departments have been set assessment questions like “In Greek, construct the word meaning “fear of the number 71” (the correct answer being “hebdomekontahenophobia”).  Some are well documented such as tetraphobia (fear of 4) which is so prevalent in East Asia it compelled BMW to revise the release strategy of the “4 Series” cars and triskaidekaphobia (fear of 13) which has such a history in the West it’s common still for hotels not to have a 13^th floor or rooms which include “13”, something which in the pre-digital age was a charming quirk but when things were computerized added a needless complication.  The use of the actual number is important because in such a hotel the “14^th” floor is (in the architectural sense) of course the 13^th but there’s little to suggest there’s ever been resistance from guests being allocated room 1414.

Some number phobias are quite specific: Rooted in the folklore of Australian cricket is a supposed association of the number 87 with something bad (typically a batter (DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) means they're no longer "batsmen") being dismissed) although it seems purely anecdotal and more than one statistical analysis (cricket is all about numbers) has concluded there's nothing “of statistical significance” to be found and there’s little to suggest players take the matter seriously.  One English umpire famously had “a routine” associated with the score reaching a “repunit” (a portmanteau (or blended) word, the construct being re(eated) +‎ unit) (eg 111, 222, 333 etc) but that was more fetish than phobia.

No fear of 17: Lindsay Lohan appeared on the covers of a number of issues of Seventeen magazine.  Targeted at the female market (age rage 12-18), the US edition of Seventeen is now predominately an on-line publication, printed only as irregular "special, stand-alone issues" but a number of editions in India and the Far East continue in the traditional format. 

Other illustrative number phobias include oudenophobia (fear of 0), (trypophobia (fear of holes) said to sometimes be the companion condition), henophobia (fear of 1) (which compels sufferer to avoid being associated with “doing something once”, being the “first in the group” etc), heptaphobia (fear of 7) (cross-culturally, a number also with many positive associations), eikosiheptaphobia (fear of 27) (a pop-culture thing which arose in the early 1970s when a number of rock stars, at 27, died messy, drug-related deaths), tessarakontadyophobia (fear of 42) (which may have spiked in patients after the publication of Douglas Adams’ (1952–2001) Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992), enenekontenneaphobia (fear of 99) (thought not related to the Get Smart TV series of the 1960s), tetrakosioeikosiphobia (fear of 420) (the syndrome once restricted to weed-smokers in the US but long internationalized), the well-documented hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia (fear of 666), heftakosioitessarakontaheptaphobia (fear of 747) (though with the withdrawal from passenger service of the tough, reliable (four engines and made of metal) Boeing 747 and its replacement with twin-engined machines made increasingly with composites and packed with lithium-ion batteries, a more common fear may be “not flying on a 747”, most common among heftakosioitessarakontaheptaphiles).  Enniakosioihendecaphobia (fear of 911) was, in the US, probably a co-morbidity with tetrakosioeikosiphobia but it may also have afflicted also those with a bad experience of a pre-modern Porsche 911 (1963-) which, in inexpert hands, could behave as one would expect of a very powerful Volkswagen Beetle, the most acute cases manifesting as triskaidekaphobia (fear of 930, that number being the internal designation for the original 911 Turbo (1974-1989), the fastest of the breed, soon dubbed the "widow-maker").

Nongentiseptuagintatrestrillionsescentiquinquagintanovemmiliacentumtredecimdeciesoctingentivigintiquattuormiliatrecentiphobia (fear of 973,659,113,824,315) describes a the definitely rare condition and it's assumed that was word was coined by someone determined to prove it could be done. There’s also compustitusnumerophobia (fear of composite numbers), meganumerophobia (fear of large numbers), imparnumerophobia (fear of odd numbers), omalonumerophobia (fear of even numbers), piphobia (fear of pi), phiphobia (fear of the golden ratio), primonumerophobia (fear of prime numbers), paranumerophobia (fear of irrational numbers), neganumerophobia (fear of negative numbers) and decadisophobia (fear of decimals).  All such types are unrelated to arithmophobia (or numerophobia) which is the "fear of numbers, calculations & math", a syndrome common among students who "just don't get it" and there are many because those "good at math" and those not really are two separate populations; it's rare to be able to transform the latter into the former, a better solution being to send them to law school where many flourish, needing to master the arithmetic only of billing their time in six-minute increments (1/10th of an hour).  Having ten fingers and thumbs, most manage the calculations.  The marvellous Wiki Fandom site and The Phobia List are among the internet’s best curated collection of phobias.

The only one which debatably can’t exist is neonumerophobia (fear of new numbers) because, given the nature of infinity, there can be no “new numbers” although, subjectively, a number could be “new” to an individual so there may be a need.  Sceptical though mathematicians are likely to be, the notion of the “new number” ("zero" debatably the last) has (in various ways) been explored in fiction including by science fiction (SF or SciFi) author & engineer Robert A Heinlein (1907–1988) in The Number of the Beast (1980), written during his “later period”.  More challenging was Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by English schoolmaster & Anglican priest Edwin Abbott (1838–1926) which was published under the pseudonym “A Square”, the layer of irony in that choice revealed as the protagonist begins to explore dimensions beyond his two-dimensional world (in Victorian England).  Feminists note also Ursula K Le Guin’s (1929–2018) The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) in which was created an entirely new numerical system of “genderless" numbers”.  That would induce fear in a few.

Lindsay Lohan's cover of the song Edge of Seventeen appeared on the album A Little More Personal (2005).  Written by Stevie Nicks (b 1948), it appeared originally on her debut solo studio album Bella Donna (1981).

In entymology, there are insects with no fear of the number 17.  In the US, the so-called “periodical cicadas” (like those of the genus Magicicada) exist in a 17 year life cycle, something thought to confer a number of evolutionary advantages, all tied directly to the unique timing of their mass emergence: (1) The predator satiation strategy: The creatures emerge in massive numbers (in the billions), their sheer volume meaning it’s physically impossible for predators (both small mammals & birds) to eat enough of them to threaten the survival of the species. (2) Prime number cycles: Insects are presumed unaware of the nature of prime numbers but 17 is a prime number and there are also periodic cicadas with a 13 (also a prime) year cycle.  The 13 (Brood XIX) & 17-year (Brood X) periodic cicadas do sometimes emerge in the same season but, being prime numbers, it’s a rare event, the numbers' LCM (least common multiple) being 221 years; the last time the two cicadas emerged together was in 1868 and the next such event is thus expected in 2089.  The infrequency in overlap helps maintain the effectiveness of the predator avoidance strategies, the predators typically having shorter (2-year, 5-year etc) cycles which don’t synchronize with the cicadas' emergence, reducing chances a predator will evolve to specialize in feeding on periodical cicadas. (3) Avoidance of Climate Variability: By remaining underground for 17 years, historically, periodical cicadas avoided frequent climate changes or short-term ecological disasters like droughts or forest fires. The long underground nymph stage also allows them to feed consistently over many years and emerge when the environment is more favorable for reproduction.  Etymologists and biological statisticians are modelling scenarios under which various types of accelerated climate change are being studied to try to understand how the periodic cicadas (which evolved under “natural” climate change) may be affected. (4) Genetic Isolation: Historically, the unusually extended period between emergences has isolated different broods of cicadas, reducing interbreeding and promoting genetic diversity over time, helping to maintain healthy populations over multiple life-cycles.

No 17^th row: Alitalia B747-243B I-DEMP, Johannesburg International Airport, South Africa, 2001.

There are a variety of theories to account for the Italian superstition which had rendered 17 the national “unlucky number” but it does seem to be due primarily to a linguistic and symbolic association from ancient Rome.  The most accepted explanation is that in Roman numerals 17 is XVII which, anagrammatically, translates to VIXI (Latin for “I have lived” (the first-person singular perfect active indicative of vīvō (to live; to be alive)), understood in the vernacular as “my life is over” or, more brutally: “I am dead”.  It was something which appeared often on Roman tombstones, making an enduring record which ensured the superstition didn’t have to rely on collective memory or an oral tradition for inter-generational transfer.  That would have been ominous enough but Romans noted also that Osiris, the Egyptian god of, inter alia, life, death, the afterlife and resurrection, had died on the 17^th day of the month, 17 thus obviously a “death number” to the logical Roman mind and the worst 17^th days of the month were those which coincided with a full moon.  The cosmic coincidence was an intensifier in the same sense that in the English-speaking world the conjunction leading to a Friday falling on the 13^th makes the day seem threatening.  Thus, just as in some places hotels have neither 13^th floor or rooms containing “13”, in Italy it’s “17” which is avoided although not having a row 17 in its airliners didn’t save Alitalia (Società Aerea Italiana, the now-defunct national carrier) from its COVID-era demise.  Of course not labelling a row or floor “13” or “17” doesn’t mean a 13^th or 17^th something doesn’t exist, just that it’s called “14” or “18” so it’s the symbolic association which matters, not the physical reality.  Mashing up the numerical superstitions, that 17 is an “unlucky number” shouldn’t be surprising because it’s the sum of 13 + 4, the latter being the most dreaded number in much of East Asia, based on the pronunciation resembling “death” in both Chinese and Japanese.

In automotive manufacturing, there was nothing unusual about unique models being produced for the Italian domestic market, the most common trick being versions with engines displacing less than 2.0 litres to take advantage of the substantially lower tax regime imposed below that mark.  Thus Ferrari (1975-1981) and Lamborghini (1974-1977) made available 2.0 litre V8s (sold in RoW (rest of the world) markets variously in 2.5 & 3.0 litre displacements), Maserati a 2.0 V6 (usually a 3.0 in the Maserati Merak (1972-1983) although it appeared in 2.7 & 3.0 litre form in the intriguing but doomed Citroën SM (1970-1975)) and Mercedes-Benz created a number of one-off 2.0 litre models in the W124 range (1974-1977) exclusive to the Italian domestic market (although an unrelated series of 2.0 litre cars was also sold in India).  Others followed the trend although, the more expensive they were, the less appeal seemed to exist despite, in absolute terms, the saving increasing as the price rose.  Maserati offered a twin-turbo 2.0 in the aptly named BiTurbo, BMW did a one off 320is and Alfa Romeo produced a run of 2.0 V6s.

Lindsay Lohan, aged 17, Teen Choice Awards, Universal Amphitheatre, Universal City, California, 2 August 2003.

From an engineering point of view, most audacious doubtlessly was the 2.0 litre version of TVR's V8S (1991-1994).  Supplied usually with a 4.0 litre version of the versatile Rover V8, the capacity of the version for the Italian market was halved by de-stroking, the bore of 88.9 and stroke of 40.25 mm creating an outrageously oversquare bore/stroke ratio of 45.28 but, with the assistance of a supercharger, the quirky engine almost matched in power and torque the naturally aspirated original with twice the displacement; It was a classic example of the effectiveness of forced-aspiration although it did demand of drivers a different technique.  By comparison, the Formula One BRM H16’s (1966-1967) bore & stroke was 69.8 x 49.9 mm and it was so oversquare to reduce the frictional losses which would have been induced had a longer stroke been used with that many cylinders; its bore/stroke ration was 71.48 compared with the almost square BRM V16 designed in the 1940s, the latter able to be in that configuration because (1) it was supercharged and (2) being only 1.5 litres, the stroke was anyway physically short in absolute terms.  The 2.4 litre V8s used in Formula One between 2006-2013 had to have a maximum bore of 98 and stroke of 40 mm (bore/stroke ratio 40.81) and that’s an indication of the characteristics the 2.0 litre TVR V8S offered.  Disappointingly, it was an experience few Italians sought and only seven were built.

It was Suzuki which had more success with work-arounds to Rome’s tiresome regulations.  Their two-stroke, triple cylinder GT380 (1972-1980) motorcycle was for most of its existence made with an actual displacement of 371 cm³ but in 1975, the Italian government passed a law banning the importation of motor-cycles under 380 cm³ and weighing less than 170 kg.  Accordingly, the Japanese produced a “big bore” 380 exclusively for the Italian market displacing an actual 384 cm³.  The portly triple would never have run afoul of the weight limit but just to avoid any unpleasantness, the data plate riveted to the frame recorded a verified mass of 171 kg.  Honor apparently satisfied on both sides, the GT380 remained available in some places until 1980, outliving the Suzuki’s other two-strokes triples by three seasons.

US advertisement for the Renault 17 (1974), the name Gordini adopted as a "re-brand" of the top-of-the-range 17TS,  Gordini was a French sports car producer and tuning house, absorbed by Renault in 1968, the name from time-to-time used for high-performance variants of various Renault models.

One special change for the Italian market was a nod to the national heptadecaphobia, the car known in the rest of the world (RoW) as the Renault 17 (1971-1979) sold in Italy as the R177.  For the 17, Renault took the approach which had delivered great profits: use the underpinnings of mundane mass-produced family cars with a sexy new body draped atop.  Thus in the US the Ford Falcon (1959-1969) begat the Mustang (1964-) and in Europe Ford made the Capri (1968-1976) from the Cortina (1962-1982).  Opel’s swoopy GT (1968-1973) was (most improbably) underneath just the modest Kadett.  It wasn’t only the mass-market operators which used the technique because in the mid 1950s, Mercedes-Benz understood the appeal of the style of the 300 SL (W198, 1954-1957) was limited by the high price which was a product of the exotic engineering (the space-frame, gullwing doors, dry sump and the then novel MFI (mechanical fuel-injection)), the solution being to re-purpose the platform of the W120, the small, austere sedan which helped the company restore its fortunes in the post-war years before the Wirtschaftswunder (economic miracle) was celebrated in 1959 with the exuberance of the Heckflosse (tailfin) cars (1959-1968).  On the W120 platform was built the 190 SL (W121, 1955-1963), an elegant (it not especially rapid) little roadster which quickly became a trans-Atlantic favourite, particularly among what used to be called the “women’s market”.

Only in Italy: The Renault 177, exclusively for heptadecaphobes.

Using the same formula, the Renault 17 was built on the underpinnings of the Renault 12, a remarkably durable platform, introduced in 1969 and, in one form or another, manufactured or assembled in more than a dozen countries, the last not produced until 2006.  Like the Anglo-German Ford Capri, the 17 was relatively cheap to develop because so much was merely re-purposed but for a variety of reasons, it never managed to come close to match the sales of the wildly successful Ford, FWD (front wheel drive) not then accepted as something “sporty” and Renault's implementation on the 17 was never adaptable to the new understanding of the concept validated by FWD machines such as Volkswagen’s Golf GTi which would define the “hot hatch”.  Like most of the world, the Italians never warmed to the 17 but presumably the reception would have been even more muted had not, in deference to the national superstition about the number 17, the name been changed to “Renault 177”, the cheaper companion model continuing to use the RoW label: Renault 15.