Lollipop

Lollipop (pronounced lol-ee-pop)

(1) A (usually spherical or disc-shaped) piece of hard candy attached to the end of a small stick, held in the hand while the candy is sucked or licked (It was essentially a toffee-apple without the apple; a stick dipped in toffee and the older spelling used in the UK was lollypop (which exists still in modern commerce)).

(2) Something in a shape resembling the candy on a stick.

(3) In the UK, Ireland and the Commonwealth, as lollipop lady (and lollipop man), a school crossing attendant (based on the shape of the "stop/go" signs traditionally used and in the slang of children they're also "lollipoppers".

(4) In computer networking, a routing protocol using sequence numbering starting at a negative value, increasing until zero, at which point it switches indefinitely to cycle through a finite set of positive numbers.

(5) In the labeling of the Android operating system, v5.0 to 5.1.1.

(6) In motorsport, a circular sign on a long stick, used by a pit crew to covey messages to drivers (system still used despite advances in radio communication because (1) it's retained as a backup in case of system failure and (2) the messages can't electronically be monitored and done, with care, can be secret.

(7) In the slang of fashion and related photography, a term for very thin models whose heads thus appear disproportionately large.

(8) Figuratively, something sweet but unsubstantial (originally of literature).

(9) In the slang of musical criticism, a short, entertaining, but undemanding piece of classical music.

1784: A creation of Modern English of uncertain origin but the construct may be the obvious lolly + pop. Lolly was from the Northern English dialect loll (dangle the tongue) and pop was an alternative name for “slap”.  The alternative theory is it was borrowed from the Angloromani (literally "English Romani" and the language combining aspects of English and Romani), which was spoken by the Romani (gypsy, traveller, Roma etc) people in England, Ireland & Wales.  It was in the twentieth century displaced by English but traces remain in the variant English used by modern Roma.  The suggestion is of links with the Angloromani loli phabai (or lollipobbul (red or candy apple)), which was a blend from the Middle Indic lohita (from Sanskrit) and loha (red), drawn from reudh which had Indo-European roots. Among etymologists, the Angloromani connection has most support.  Originally, lollipop seems to have referred just to the boiled sweet (ie "stickless) with the meaning "hard candy on a stick" not noted until the 1920s while the figurative sense (something sweet but unsubstantial) was in use by at least 1849.  Used in the slang of catwalk photographers, the verb lollipopping (a stick-thin model walking down catwalk) and adjective lollipopish (a model close to thin enough to be a true "lollipop") are both non-standard.  Among the pill-poppers, there seems to be a consensus that post-rave, the best lollipops are lemon-flavored.  In commerce, the spelling varies including lollipop, lollypop, loli-pop, lollypopp and lolly-pop.  Lollipop & lollipopper are nouns and lollipoplike is an adjective; the noun plural is lollipops.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) enjoying a giant lollipop.

In classical music criticism, the term “lollipop” refers to short, appealing and often melodically charming pieces which were nevertheless judged as “lightweight in musical substance”.  Deployed often as “palate-cleansers” or encores, despite the opinions of many critics, composers, conductors and musicians, the bulk of the audience tended to enjoy them because in character they were often jaunty and playful, not something which endeared them to the earnest types who decided what deserved to be the canon of the “serious” repertoire in which complexity was valued above accessibility.  A well-known exponent the genre was Johann Strauss II (1825–1899) and his An der schönen blauen Donau, Op. 314 (On the Beautiful Blue Danube (better known in English as The Blue Danube (1866)) and Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka, Op. 214 (Chit-chat (1858)) are exemplars of his technique.  The reason the lollipops were and remain popular with general audiences (typically not trained in any aspect of music) is that they paid their money to be entertained by listening to something they could enjoy, not always the experience delivered by the composers who preferred “the experimental”, valuing originality over beauty; these were the “formalists” (as comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) once labeled comrade Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) and they may be compared with the modern generation of architects churning out ugly buildings because prizes in their profession are awarded on the basis of work being “new” rather than “attractive”.  Neither art deco nor mid-century modern buildings are in any way “lollipops” but the committees which award prizes in architecture probably think of them that way.

Britney Spears (b 1981) with lollipop, emerging from a session in a West Hollywood tanning salon, Los Angeles, October, 2022.

Many composers at least dabbled in lollipop production and some were memorable, French composer Claude Debussy’s (1862–1918) Clair de Lune (1890) hauntingly beautiful and demanding nothing more from a listener than to sit and let it wash over them; even comrade Stalin (who liked tunes he could hum) would have enjoyed it despite Debussy being French.  Others were specialists in the genre including: (1) the Austrian-American Friedrich "Fritz" Kreisler (1875–1962) who published a few of his compositions under wholly fictitious “old” names to lend them some “classic” respectability, (2) the English conductor Sir Thomas Beecham (1879–1961) who had a reputation among his peers for treating his music with about the same seriousness as he handled his many relationships with women and it was his encores and brief “concert fillers” which more than anything popularized use of “lollipop” in this context; he was also a practical impresario who noted what pleased the crowd and sometime constructed entire concerts with them, (3) Leopold Stokowski (1882–1977), a British conductor of Polish extraction noted for his arrangements of the works of Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750), pieces for which the appellation “lush” would have had to been coined had it not existed and (4) the Australian Percy Grainger (1882–1961) a man of not always conventional tastes & predilections who enjoyed and unusually close relationship with his mother although whether any of that in any way influenced his folk-inspired miniatures (quintessential lollipops) is a matter for debate.  What can’t be denied is that for the untrained, a hour or two of lollipop music will probably be enjoyed more than listening to the strains of stuff by Béla Bartók (1881-1945) or Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951), the composers the critics think would be good for us.

A pandemic-era Paris Hilton (b 1981) in face mask with Whirly Pop lollipop.  Always remove facemask before attempting to lick or suck lollipop.

How to make lemon lollipops

Among the pill-poppers (and there are a lot of them about), there seems, at least impressionistically, to be a consensus that post-rave, the best lollipops are lemon-flavored.  It’s thought lemon lollipops work best in this niche because the acidic content interacts with taste receptors enjoying a heightened sensitivity induced by the pills’ chemistry.  Ideally, pill-poppers should pre-purchase lemon lollypops and at all times carry a few (on the basis of the (Boy) Scout motto: “Be prepared”) but that’s not always possible because, there being so many pill-poppers, shops often are out of stock of the lemon flavor.

Lemon Lollipops.

This recipe is therefore provided as a courtesy to pill poppers and, having shelf-life of weeks, lollipops can be prepared in advance; except for those popping at a heroic level, a batch should last a week so users should add the task to their routine, scheduling it perhaps after church every Sunday.  Lollipop sticks and one or more (depending on production target) lollypop molds will be required and the volume of ingredients quoted here should yield 24 small or 10-12 large lollipops.  Sticks and molds are available at supermarkets and speciality stores as are the small cellophane bags (needed only if some or all are being stored).  The taste can be varied by (slightly) adjusting the volumes of sugar, citric acid & lemon oil and preferences will vary between pill-poppers who are encouraged to experiment.

Ingredients (lollipops)

1 cup (200 g) sugar
½ cup (120 ml) water
¼ cup (60 ml) light corn syrup
1¼ teaspoons citric acid
¾ teaspoon lemon oil
2-4 (according to preference) drops liquid yellow food coloring

Ingredients (sour powder)

½ cup (50 g) confectioners' sugar
2 teaspoons citric acid

Directions (lollipops)

(1) Coat lollipop molds with non-stick cooking spray.

(2) Place lollipop sticks in the molds.

(3) Combine the sugar, water, and corn syrup in a large, heavy saucepan and then bring mix to a boil over medium-high heat.

(4) Continue cooking until mixture reaches 300°F (150°C) which is the “hard-crack” stage.  Immediately remove saucepan from the heat.  The timing is critical so watch pot during cooking.

(5) Add citric acid, lemon oil and food coloring and stir to combine.  (Because of the acidic nature of the mix, don’t allow face to come too close to pot because fumes can irritate the eyes).

(6) Pour the mixture into a heatproof measuring container with spout (or a candy funnel (which every pill-popper should own)).

(7) Divide the mixture among prepared molds and leave lollipops to cool and harden.  After about 15 minutes, they should be ready to remove from mold (may take longer if temperature or humidity are high).

Directions (sour powder)

(1) Mix confectioners’ sugar and citric acid in bowl.

(2) Holding by stick, dip lollipops in mixture, coating entire surface.

(3) Lollipops may immediately be consumed but if being stored, wrap in cellophane bags and twist-tie.  Store lollipops in cool, dark, dry place (they'll remain in a “best by” state for about a month). 

Semaphore

Semaphore (pronounced sem-uh-fawr or sem-uh-fohr)

(1) A “line-of-sight” apparatus (mechanical, hand-held or activated and now even electronic) for conveying information by means of visual signals (typically flags or lights, the positions of which are changed as required).

(2) Any of various devices for signaling by changing the position of a light, flag or other identifiable indicator.  Historically, a common use of “semaphore” was as a noun adjunct (also called a noun modifier or attributive noun) including “semaphore flag”, “semaphore chart”, “semaphore operator etc.

(3) A codified system of signaling, especially a system by which a special flag is held in each hand and various positions of the arms denoting specific letters, numbers etc.  It remains part of Admiralty signals training.

(4) In biochemistry (as semaphoring), any of a class of proteins that assist growing axons to find an appropriate target and to form synapses.

(5) In biology (as semaphoront), an organism as seen in a specific time during its ontogeny or life cycle, as the object of identification or basis for systematics.

(6) In botany (as semaphore plant), a synonym for the telegraph plant (Codariocalyx motorius), a tropical Asian shrub, one of the few plants capable of rapid movement and so named because the jerking motions of the leaves recalled in observers the actions of the arms of Admiralty signallers and the name dates from the Raj.

(7) In programming, a bit, token, fragment of code, or some other mechanism which is used to restrict access to a shared function or device to a single process at a time, or to synchronize and coordinate events in different processes, the thread increments the semaphore to prevent other threads from entering the critical section at the same time.

(8) In figurative use (in human and animal behavior), certain non-verbal communications, used consciously and unconsciously, the concept often explored as a literary device.

(9) To signal (information) by means of semaphore

1814: From the French sémaphore, the construct being the Ancient Greek, σῆμα (sêma) (mark, sign, token) + the French -phore (from the Ancient Greek -φόρος (-phóros), the suffix indicating a bearer or carrier) and thus understood as “a bearer of signals”.  The Greek –phóros was from pherein (to carry), from the primitive Indo-European root bher- (to carry).  The verb was derived from the noun.  Semaphore is a noun & verb, semaphorist, semaphoront & semaphorin are nouns, semaphored is a verb, semaphoring is a verb & adjective, semaphoric & semaphorical are adjectives and semaphorically is an adverb; the noun plural is semaphores.  The noun semaphorism is non-standard but is used in behavioral linguistics to describe patterns of language used to convey meaning in a “coded” form which can be deconstructed for meaning only by sender and receiver.  The form semaphoreology seems not to exist but if anyone ever makes a discipline of the study of semaphore (academic careers have been built from more improbable origins), presumably there will be semaphoreologists.

Chart of the standard semaphore alphabet (top left), a pair of semaphore flags (bottom left) and Lindsay Lohan practicing her semaphore signaling moves (just in case, should the need arise); this is the letter “N”.

Semaphore flags are not always red and yellow, but the colors are close to a universal standard, especially in naval and international signalling.  There was no intrinsic meaning denoted by the use of red & yellow, the hues chosen for their contrast and visual clarity, something important in maritime environments or other outdoor locations when light could often be less than ideal although importantly, the contrast was sustained even in bright sunshine.  Because semaphore often was used for ship-to-to ship signalling, the colors had to be not only easily distinguishable at a distance but not be subject to “melting” or “blending”, a critical factor when used on moving vessels in often pitching conditions, the operator’s moving arms adding to the difficulties.  In naval and maritime semaphore systems, the ICS (International Code of Signals) standardized full-solid red and yellow for the flags but variants do exist (red, white, blue & black seem popular) and these can be created for specific conditions, for a particular cultural context or even as promotional items.

L-I-N-D-S-A-Y-space-L-O-H-A-N spelled-out in ICS (International Code of Signals) semaphore.  One can't tell when this knowledge will come in handy.

Early automobiles were sometimes fitted with mechanical semaphore signals to indicate a driver’s intention to change direction; these the British called “trafficators” (“flippers” in casual use) and they were still being fitted in the late 1950s, by which time they’d long been illuminated to glow a solid amber.  What the mechanical semaphores did was use the model of the extended human arm, used by riders or drivers in the horse-drawn age to signal their intentions to others and although obviously vulnerable to damage, the devices were at the time a good solution although the plastics used from the 1930s were prone to fading, diminishing the brightness.  When electronics advanced to the point where sequentially flashing turn indicators (“flashers”) cheaply could be mass-produced the age of the semaphore signal ended although they did for a while persist on trucks where they were attached to the exterior of the driver’s door and hand activated.

Hand-operated semaphore signal on driver's door of RHD (right-hand-drive) truck (left), an Austin A30 with electrically-activated semaphore indicating impending leftward change of direction (centre) and electrically-activated right-side semaphore on 1937 Rolls-Royce Phantom III Gurney Nutting Touring Limousine (right).

The A30 (1952-1956) was powered by an 803 cm³ (49 cubic inch) four cylinder engine while the Phantom III (1936-1939) was fitted with a 7338 cm³ (447 cubic inch) V12 (noted diarist Sir Henry “Chips” Channon (1897–1958) owned one) so the driving experience was very different but both used the same Lucas semaphore assembly.  Note the "BEWARE, TRAFFICATORS IN USE" notice in A30's rear window.  Because drivers are no longer attuned to look for the now archaic semaphores, some jurisdictions (while still allowing their operation), will permit road registration only if supplementary flashing indicators (now usually amber) are fitted.  In the 1960s many trafficator-equipped cars were modernized with flashers and it's now only collectors or restorers who prize the originality of the obsolete.

Low-emission Trabant (rated at 1 PP (pony-power)) with driver using semaphore signal to indicate intention to turn left, Barnim district, Bernau bei Berlin, GDR, 1981.

As late as the 1960s, in some places, trucks & vans still were being built with a hand-operated semaphore mounted on the driver’s door and specialized vehicles likely also to have an occupant on the passenger-side (such as fire-engines) sometimes had two.  If need be they could also be improvised, as in the low-tech “lollipop” sign being used in this image of a two-seater buggy, a vehicle crafted using the salvageable section of a Trabant which may have suffered frontal damage in a crash.  Trabants really could go fast enough to have damaging crashes and although not engineered with the “crumple zones” which were introduced in the West as a way of absorbing an impact’s energy before it reached the occupants, in their own way, crumple Trabants did.  In the GDR (German Democratic Republic, the old East Germany), the long-running (1957-1991) Trabant's bodywork was made with Duroplast, a composite thermosetting plastic (and a descendant of Bakelite).  It was a resin plastic reinforced with fibres (the GDR used waste from both cotton & wool processing) and was structurally similar to fibreglass although the urban myth Trabants were made from reinforced cardboard persists.  The first Trabants left the Saxony production line in November 1957, only weeks after the Soviet Union had startled the world (certainly those in Pentagon and such places) by launching Sputnik, the first man-made Earth satellite.  Launched into an elliptical low Earth orbit where it circulated for three months, it did nothing other than transmit radio pulses which, because of the flight path, could at various time be detected just about anywhere below.  Compared with what space programmes would become, it sounds now a modest achievement but at the time was a sensation and the event which triggered the “space race”.

Two comrades approaching their 1957 Trabant P50 in stylish korallenrot (coral red) over creme (cream).  Note the amber turn signals; Trabants were factory-fitted with flashers at a time Rolls-Royce and other manufacturers in the “advanced West” were still installing antiquated semaphores.

In the Eastern Bloc there weren’t many marketing departments but there was a vast propaganda apparatus and opportunistically, the name Trabant was derived from the Middle High German drabant (satellite; companion; foot soldier) which at the time was a positive association with the famous Sputnik but it later became emblematic of the economic and moral bankruptcy of the whole communist project: While by the fall of the Berlin Wall (1961-1989) Soviet satellites and related technologies greatly had advanced, the “Trubi” remained a little changed “1957 time capsule”.  Although much despised in the early 1990s in the aftermath of the break-up of the Soviet Union (1922-1991), opinions softened and the survivors of the more than three million produced (a greater volume than BMC's (British Motor Corporation) Mini (1959-2000)) gained a cult following.  More correctly, the marque gained a number of cult followings, some attracted by the “retro-cuteness”, some with genuine, Putinesque nostalgia for the old Soviet system and other with a variety of projects as varied as EV (electric vehicle) conversions, the installation of V8s for drag-racing and the re-purposing in many forms of competition.

Two comrades with their 1960 Trabant P50 in stylish two-tone pastellblau (pastel blue) over creme (cream) admiring the Leipzig Opera building, Saxony, circa 1961.

The Trubi is now a fixture in the lower reaches (a notch above the Austin Allegro) of the collector market.  The photograph of the horse-drawn Trubi, while not representative of the entire Eastern Bloc experience under communist rule, captures a sight which would not have been uncommon away from large urban centres (which could be grim enough).  Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1937-1977) said his abiding memory of Eastern Bloc cities was of “the smell of boiled cabbage and an unrelenting greyness.”  In fairness, English cooks probably inflicted worse on the noble cabbage than anything done behind the Iron Curtain but his sense of “greyness” was literal, the appalling air pollution of the GDR (its industrial base powered by burning lignite (from the Latin lignum (wood)) and other forms of low-grade, “dirty coal”), thus the griminess of the buildings.  Places like London similarly were affected and it was only after the 1952 “Great Smog of London” that the Clean Air Act (1956) became law, meaning air quality began slowly to improve.  That the photographs of the era look so drab is not because of the film stock; buildings literally were “dirty”.  Because of various other advances in health care, it’s difficult to quantify the contribution to reducing mortality achieved by reducing air pollution but few doubt it was significant.

Left & right semaphore signals (trafficators): Lucas part number SF80 for one’s Austin A30, Morris Minor or Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith.  In the 1950s, the price may have varied between resellers.

Although the grim realities of post-war economics meant standardization began to intrude, even in the 1950s Rolls-Royce made much of things being “bespoke” and while that was still true of some of the coach-work, what lay beneath the finely finished surface was often from the industry parts-bin and the semaphore turn signals the company fitted to the Silver Wraith (1946-1958) and Silver Dawn (1949-1955) was Lucas part number SF80, exactly the same component used by the humble Austin A30 and Morris Minor (1948-1971) where the functionality was identical.  Presumably, were one to buy the part from Rolls-Royce one would have been charged more (perhaps it was wrapped in more elaborate packaging) and that’s a well-understood industry phenomenon.  The internet has made it easier to trace such commonalities but in the 1980s there was a most useful publication which listed shared part-numbers which differed only in the prices charged, a switch for a Lamborghini which might retail for hundreds available from the Fiat parts counter (a busy place folklore suggests) for $12 while those aghast at the price quoted for a small linkage in a Triumph’s Stag’s induction system were pleased the same thing could be bought from a Ford dealer for a fraction of the cost.  Rolls-Royce fitted their last trafficator in 1958 and when Austin updated the A30 as the A35 (1956-1968) flashers were standard equipment, metal covering the apertures where once the semaphores had protruded while internally there was a panel concealing what had once been an access point for servicing.  The Morris Minor, the last of which wasn’t (in CKD (completely knocked down) form) assembled in New Zealand until 1974(!) switched from trafficators to flashers in 1961, the exterior and interior gaps concealed al la the A35.

Left-side semaphore on 1951 Volkswagen Type 1 (Beetle).

The Latin sēmaphorum (the alternative form was sēmaphoru) is thought to be a calque of the Italian semaforo (traffic light), again borrowed from the French sémaphore in the literal sense of “signaling system”.  The modern Italian for “traffic light” is semaforo although (usually for humorous effect) sēmaphorum is sometimes used as Contemporary Latin.  Traffic lights have for over a century regulated the flow of vehicles in urban areas but the first semaphore signal predated motorized transport, installed in London in 1868.  It was introduced not because it would perform the task better than the policemen then allocated but because it was cheaper and was an example of the by then common phenomenon of machines displacing human labor.  The early mechanical devices were pre-programmed and thus didn’t respond to the dynamics of the environment being controlled and that applied also to the early versions of the now familiar red-amber-green “traffic lights” which began to proliferate in the 1920s but by the 1950s there were sometime sensors (weight-sensitive points in the road) which could “trigger” a green light if the pre-set timing was creating a needless delay.  Even before the emergence of AI (artificial intelligence) in the modern sense of the term, implementations of AI had been refining the way traffic light systems regulated vehicular flow and in major cities (China apparently the most advanced), cameras, sensors, face and number plate recognition all interact to make traffic lights control the flow with an efficiency no human(s) could match.

ASMR semaphore porn: 1955 Austin A30.  ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response) describes the physical & psychological pleasure derived from specific stimuli (usually a sound).  For some, this can be the sight & sound of South Korean girls on TikTok eating noodles while for those fond of machines it can come from hearing semaphore turn-signals being raised and lowered.

Whether it was the early semaphore signals or the soon to be ubiquitous illumined red-amber-green lights, what the system relied on was compliance; inherently, lacking physical agency, a piece of colored glass can’t stop a car but that almost always is the effect of a “red light”.  In behaviorism, this was described as discriminative stimulus (SD) in that the red light culturally is understood as a universal cue signalling a punishment might follow any transgression (ie “running the red light”), thus the incentive to obey the signal and avoid negative consequences (crashing or being fined).  What SD does is control behavior through learned association.  The use of red comes from semiotics and the color is culturally assigned to “stop” as green is to “go”, these allocated by virtue of historical associations which long pre-date the technology in the same way semiotics are used (as red & blue) to denote “hot” & “cold” water when taps are labelled, meaning for travellers no knowledge of a local language is needed to work out which is which.  In the jargon, the red light is a “signifier” and the “signified” is stop.

Modern Mechanix magazine, January 1933.

Sir William Morris (1877-1963; later Lord Nuffield) held a number of troubling and even at the time unfashionable views and he’d been sceptical about producing the Morris Minor (1948-1971), describing the prototype as looking “like a poached egg”; in that he was right but the Minor proved a highly profitable, quarter century long success.  In the 1930s however, he did have the imaginative idea of adapting the by then familiar traffic light (in miniature form) to the automobile itself.  The concept was sound, Sir William’s proposed placement even anticipating the “eye level brake lights” of the 1980s and the inclusion of green in the code was interesting but the “mini traffic light” wasn’t taken up and lesson which should have been learned is that in the absence of legislation compelling change, the industry always will be most reluctant to invest and not until the 1960s would such mandates (for better and worse) begin to be imposed.

1947 Volvo P444 (1947-1958, left) and 2022 Volvo XC 40 (introduced 2017, right).  Volvo abandoned the semaphores years before the British but the designers clearly haven’t forgotten, the rear reflectors on the XC 40 using the shape.  Volvo replaced the semaphores with conventional flashers but not before the modernist Swedes had tried the odd inventive solution.

In idiomatic use, semaphore’s deployment tends to be metaphorical or humorous, the former used as a literary device, borrowed from behavioral psychology.  “To semaphore” can mean “wildly or exaggeratedly gesture” but can also convey the idea of a communication effected without explicitly stating something and that can either be as a form of “unspoken code” understood only between the interlocutors or something unconscious (often called body-language).  “Semaphoring a message” can thus be either a form of secret communication or something inferred from non-verbal clues.  Authors and poets are sometimes tempted to use “semaphore” metaphorically to describe emotional cues, especially across physical or emotional distance and one can imagine the dubious attraction for some of having “her sensuous lips silently semaphoring desire” or “her hungry eyes semaphored the truth”.  Among critics, the notion of “semaphoring” as one of the motifs of modernist literature was identified and TS Eliot’s (1888–1965) style in The Waste Land (1922) included coded fragments, often as disconnected voices and symbols, called by some an “emotional semaphore” while Samuel Beckett (1906-1989 and another Nobel laureate) was noted for having his characters exchange their feelings with repetitive gestures, signals and critically, silences, described variously as “gestural semaphore” or the “semaphoring of despair”.

Satellite

Satellite (pronounced sat-l-ahyt)

(1) In astronomy, celestial body orbiting around a planet or star; a moon.

(2) In geopolitics, as “satellite state”, a country under the domination or influence of another.

(3) Something (a county, sub-national state, office, building campus etc), under the jurisdiction, influence, or domination of another entity; Subordinate to another authority, outside power, or the like (also known as a “satellite operation”, “satellite campus”, “satellite workshop” etc).

(4) An attendant or follower of another person, often subservient or obsequious in manner; a follower, supporter, companion, associate; lackey, parasite, sycophant, toady, flunky; now used usually in the derogatory sense of “a henchman” although, applied neutrally, it can be used of someone’s retinue or entourage (and even the machinery of a motorcade).

(5) A man-made device orbiting a celestial body (the earth, a moon, or another planet etc) and transmitting scientific information or used for communication; among astronomers and others form whom the distinction matters, man-made devices are sometimes referred to as “artificial satellites” to distinguish them for natural satellites such as the Earth’s Moon.  The standard abbreviation is “sat” and the situation in which a satellite is hit by some object while in orbit (which at the velocities involved can be unfortunate) is called a “sat-hit”.

(6) As “derelict satellite”, a man-made device (including the spent upper-stages of rockets) in orbit around a celestial body which has ceased to function.

(7) In medicine, a short segment of a chromosome separated from the rest by a constriction, typically associated with the formation of a nucleolus.

(8) In biology, a colony of microorganisms whose growth in culture medium is enhanced by certain substances produced by another colony in its proximity.

(9) In formal grammar, a construct that takes various forms and may encode a path of movement, a change of state, or the grammatical aspect (highly technical descriptor no longer used in most texts).

(10) In television, as satellite TV, the transmission and reception of television broadcasts (and used also in narrowcasting) using satellites in low-earth orbit.

(11) In the military terminology of Antiquity, a guard or watchman.

(12) In entomology, as satellite moth, the Eupsilia transversa, a moth of the family Noctuidae.

1540-1550: From the fourteenth century Middle French satellite, from the Medieval Latin satellitem (accusative singular of satelles) (attendant upon a distinguished person or office-holder, companion, body-guard. courtier, accomplice, assistant), from the Latin satelles, from the Old Latin satro (enough, full) + leyt (to let go) and listed usually as akin to the English “follow” although the association is undocumented.  Although the Latin origin is generally accepted, etymologists have pondered a relationship with the Etruscan, either satnal (klein) (again linked to the English “follow”) or a compound of roots: satro- (full; enough) + leit- (to go) (the English “follow” constructed of similar roots).  Satellite is a noun, verb & adjective and satellitic & satellitious are adjectives; the noun plural is satellites.  Satellitious (pertaining to, or consisting of, satellites) is listed by most dictionaries as archaic but is probably the best form to use in a derogatory sense, best expressed in the comparative (more satellitious) or the superlative (most satellitious).

Lindsay Lohan promoting the Sick Note series, TV & Satellite Week magazine, 21-27 July 2018.

The adjectival use is applied as required and this has produced many related terms including satellite assembly (use of committees or deliberative bodies created by a superior authority), satellite broadcasting (in this context distinguished from transmissions using physical (point-to-point) cables or ground-based relays), satellite campus, satellite DNA (in genetics, an array in  tandem of repeating, non-coding DNA), satellite-framing (in linguistics, the use of a grammatical satellite to indicate a path of motion, a change of state or grammatical aspect (as opposed to a verb framing)), satellite navigation (the use of electronic positioning systems which use data from satellites (often now as “SatNav”)) and satellite station (either (1) as ground-base facility used for monitoring or administrating satellites or (2) a manned facility in orbit such as the ISS (International Space Station)), satellite telephone (telephony using satellites as a transmission vector)

Sputnik, 1957

Sputnik 1 blueprint, 1957.

The original sense in the 1540s was "a follower or attendant of a superior person" but this use was rare before the late eighteenth century and it seemed to have taken until the 1910s before it was applied in a derogatory manner to suggest "an accomplice or accessory in crime or other nefarious activity” although the Roman statesman Cicero (Marcus Tullius Cicero, 106-43 BC) often used the Latin form in this way.  In the seventeenth century, as telescopes became available, the idea was extended to what was then thought to be "a planet revolving about a larger one" on the notion of "an attendant", initially a reference to the moons of Jupiter.  In political theory, the “satellite state” was first described in 1800, coined by John Adams (1735-1826; US president 1797-1801) in a discussion about the United States and its relationships with the other nations of the Americas although in geopolitics the term is most identified with the “buffer states”, the members of the Warsaw Pact which were within Moscow’s sphere of influence.  The familiar modern meaning of a "man-made machine orbiting the Earth" actually dates (as scientific conjecture) from 1936, something realized (to the surprise of most) in 1957 when the USSR launched Sputnik 1.  Sputnik was from the Russian спу́тник (sputnik) (satellite (literally "travelling companion” and in this context a shortened form of sputnik zemlyi (travelling companion of the Earth), from the Old Church Slavonic supotiniku, the construct being the Russian so- (as “s-“ (with, together)) + пу́тник (pútnik) (traveller), from путь (put) (way, path, journey) (from the Old Church Slavonic poti, from the primitive Indo-European pent- (to tread, go)) + ник (-nik) (the agent suffix).

Soviet Sputnik postcard, 1957.

The launch of Sputnik shocked the American public which, in a milieu of jet aircraft, televisions and macropterous Cadillacs, had assumed their country was in all ways technologically superior to their Cold War enemy.  Launched into an elliptical low-Earth orbit, Sputnik was about twice the size of a football (soccer ball) and it orbited for some three more months before falling towards earth, the on-board batteries lasting long enough for it to broadcast radio pulses for the first three weeks, transmissions detectable almost anywhere on earth.  It sounds now a modest achievement but it needs to be regarded as something as significant as the Wright Flyer in 1903 travelling 200 feet (61 m), at an altitude of some 10 feet (3 m) and in the West the social and political impact was electrifying.  There were also linguistic ripples because, just as a generation later the Watergate scandal would trigger the –gate formations (which continue to this day), it wasn’t long before the –nik prefix (which had actually been a part of Yiddish word creation for at least a decade) gained popularity.  Laika, the doomed stray dog launched aboard Sputnik 2 in November 1957 was dubbed muttnik (although the claims it was the first living thing in space have since been disproved because "living" entities were both on board the Nazi V2 rockets (1944-1945) which often briefly entered the stratosphere and have long been present in the upper atmosphere where they’re ejected into space by natural atmospheric processes) while the early US satellites (quickly launched to display the nation’s scientific prowess) failed which gave the press the chance to coin kaputnik, blowupnik, dudnik, flopnik, pffftnik & stayputnik.

Sputnik 1's launch vehicle (left), the satellite as it orbited the earth (centre) and in expanded form (right. 

Although not a great surprise to either the White House or the better-informed in the Pentagon, the American public was shocked and both the popular and quality press depicted Sputnik’s success as evidence of Soviet technological superiority, stressing the military implications.    This trigged the space race and soon created the idea of the “missile gap” which would be of such significance in the 1960 presidential election and, although by the early 1960s the Pentagon knew the gap was illusory, the arms race continued and the count of missiles and warheads actually peaked in the early 1970s.  It also began a new era of military, technological, and scientific developments, leading most obviously to the moon landing in 1969 but research groups developed weapons such as the big inter-continental ballistic missiles (ICBMs) and missile defence systems as well as spy satellites.  Satellites were another step in the process of technology being deployed to improve communications.  When Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865; US president 1861-1865) was assassinated in 1865, the news didn’t reach Europe until the fastest ship crossed the Atlantic a fortnight later.  By the time of William McKinley's (1843–1901; US president 1897-1901) assassination in 1901, the news travelled around the world by undersea cables within minutes.  In 1963, while news of John Kennedy's (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) death was close to a global real-time event, those thousands of miles from the event had to wait sometimes 24 hours or more to view footage, delivered in canisters byu land' sea or air.  By 1981, when an attempt was made to take Ronald Reagan's (1911-life, television feeds around the planet were within minutes picking up live-feeds from satellites.

Two comrades with their 1960 Trabant P50 in stylish two-tone pastellblau (pastel blue) over creme (cream) admiring the Leipzig Opera building, Saxony, circa 1961 (left) and a 1990 Trabant 601 in a by then more typical beige (right).

In the GDR (German Democratic Republic, the old East Germany), the long-running (1957-1991) Trabant's bodywork was made with Duroplast, a composite thermosetting plastic (and a descendant of Bakelite).  It was a resin plastic reinforced with fibres (the GDR used waste from both cotton & wool processing) which structurally was similar to fibreglass although the urban myth Trabants were made from reinforced cardboard persists.  The first Trabants left the Saxony production line in November 1957, only weeks after the Soviet Union had startled the world by launching Sputnik and while the first man-made Earth satellite did nothing other than transmit radio pulses, the significance was that was something which had never before been done and, launched into an elliptical low Earth orbit where it circulated for three months, because of the flight path, the little sphere's "beeps" could at various times be detected just about anywhere below.  Compared with what space programmes would become, it sounds now a modest achievement but was at the time a sensation and the event which triggered the “space race”.

Two comrades approaching their 1957 Trabant P50 in stylish korallenrot (coral red) over creme (cream).  Note the amber turn signals; Trabants were factory-fitted with flashers at a time Rolls-Royce and other manufacturers in the “advanced West” were still installing antiquated semaphores.

In the Eastern Bloc there weren’t many marketing departments but there was a vast propaganda apparatus and opportunistically, the name Trabant was derived from the Middle High German drabant (satellite; companion; foot soldier) which at the time was a positive association with the famous Sputnik but it later became emblematic of the economic and moral bankruptcy of the whole communist project: While by the fall of the Berlin Wall (1961-1989) Soviet satellites and related technologies greatly had advanced, the “Trubi” remained a little changed “1957 time capsule”.  Although much despised in the early 1990s in the aftermath of the break-up of the Soviet Union (1922-1991), opinions softened and the survivors of the more than three million produced (a greater volume than BMC's (British Motor Corporation) Mini (1959-2000)) gained a cult following.  More correctly, the marque gained a number of cult followings, some attracted by the “retro-cuteness”, some with genuine, Putinesque nostalgia for the old Soviet system and other with a variety of projects as varied as EV (electric vehicle) conversions, the installation of V8s for drag-racing and the re-purposing in many forms of competition.  The Trubi is now a fixture in the lower reaches (a notch above the Austin Allegro) of the collector market.

Low-emission Trabant (rated at 1 PP (pony-power)) with driver using semaphore signal to indicate intention to turn left, Barnim district, Bernau bei, Berlin, GDR, 1981.

As late as the 1960s, in some places, trucks & vans still were being built with a hand-operated semaphore mounted on the driver’s door and specialized vehicles likely also to have an occupant on the passenger-side (such as fire-engines) sometimes had two.  If need be they could also be improvised, as in the low-tech “lollipop” sign being used in this image of a two-seater buggy, a vehicle crafted using the salvageable section of a Trabant which may have suffered frontal damage in a crash.  Trabants really could go fast enough to have damaging crashes and although not engineered with the “crumple zones” which were introduced in the West as a way of absorbing an impact’s energy before it reached the occupants, in their own way, crumple Trabants did.  The photograph of the horse-drawn Trubi, while not representative of the entire Eastern Bloc experience under communist rule, captures a sight which would not have been uncommon away from large urban centres (which could be grim enough).  Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1937-1977) said his abiding memory of Eastern Bloc cities was of “the smell of boiled cabbage and an unrelenting greyness.”  In fairness, English cooks probably inflicted worse on the noble cabbage than anything done behind the Iron Curtain but his sense of “greyness” was literal, the appalling air pollution of the GDR (its industrial base powered by burning lignite (from the Latin lignum (wood)) and other forms of low-grade, “dirty coal”), thus the griminess of the buildings.  Places like London similarly were affected and it was only after the 1952 “Great Smog of London” that the Clean Air Act (1956) became law, meaning air quality began slowly to improve.  That the photographs of the era look so drab was not because of the film stock; buildings literally were “dirty”.  Because of various other advances in health care, it’s difficult to quantify the contribution to reducing mortality achieved by reducing air pollution but few doubt it was significant.

The Plymouth Satellites

1967 Plymouth Satellite convertible.

Chrysler's Plymouth division introduced the Satellite on the corporation's intermediate ("B") platform in 1965 as the most expensive trim-option for the Belvedere line.  Offered initially only with two-door hardtop and convertible coach-work, the range of body-styles was later expanded to encompass four-door sedans and station wagons.  In a manner, typical of the way the industry applied their nomenclature as marketing devices to entice buyers, the Belvedere name was in 1970 retired while Satellite remained the standard designation until it too was dropped after 1974.

1970 Plymouth Road Runner, 440 6 Barrel.

Were it not for it being made available in 1966 with the 426 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Street Hemi V8, the Belvedere and Satellite would have been just another intermediate but with that option, it was transformed into a (slightly) detuned race-car which one could register for the road, something possible in those happier times.  The Street Hemi was an expensive option and relatively few were built but the demand for high-performance machinery was clear so in 1968, Plymouth released the Road Runner, complete with logos (licensed from the Warner Brothers film studio for US$50,000) and a “beep beep” horn which reputedly cost US$10,000 to develop.  The object was to deliver a high-performance machine at the lowest possible cost so the Road Runner used the basic (two-door, pillared) body shell and eschewed niceties like carpet or bucket seats, the only addition of note a tuned version of the 383 cubic inch (6.3 litre) V8 engine; for those who wanted more, the Street Hemi was optional.  Plymouth set what they thought were ambitious sales targets but demand was such production had to be doubled and the response encouraged the usual proliferation: a hardtop coupé and convertible soon rounding out the range.

1970 Plymouth Hemi Road Runner Superbird.

The option list later expanded to include the six-barrel version which used the of the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8, a much cheaper choice than the Street Hemi and one which (usually) displayed better manners on the street while offering similar performance until travelling well over 100 mph (160 km/h) although it couldn't match the Hemi’s sustained delivery of top-end power which, with the right gearing, would deliver a top speed in excess of 150 mph (240 km/h), something of little significance to most.  However, by the early 1970s sales were falling.  The still embryonic safety and emission legislation played a small part in this but overwhelmingly the cause was the extraordinary rise in insurance premiums being charged for the high-performance vehicles, something which disproportionately affected the very buyers at which the machines were targeted: single males aged 19-29.  However, the platform endured long enough to provide the basis for the Road Runner Superbird, a “homologation special” produced in limited numbers to qualify the frankly extreme aerodynamic modifications for use in competition.  At the time, the additions were too radical for some buyers with dealers unable to find buyers forced to convert the things back to standard specifications just to shift them from their lots.  They’re now prized collectables, the relatively few with the Street Hemi especially sought.

As a footnote, corporate stablemate Dodge called their six barrel 440s the "Six Pack" (which was a much snappier name) and in the UK this was in 1972 picked up by Jensen which was able to buy (at a bargain price) a tranche of the engines Chrysler had stored in a warehouse after US emission regulations rendered them unlawful for road-registered passenger vehicles.  Jensen called the model created the "Interceptor SP" but it proved an unfortunate experience for both company and customers for while the engine delivered a lift in performance, for a variety of reasons it was, in that configuration, not suitable for the car (or its target market) and a number had to be converted to use the standard Interceptor's single four barrel carburetor.  Its brief existence did though produce something for the automotive trivia buffs: While the accepted orthodoxy is "the factory never installed air-conditioning (AC) in any car fitted with the six barrel 440s or the Street Hemi", strictly speaking that applies only to "No Chrysler factory ever installed..." because Jensen did so equip the SP.  More exclusive still was the single Street Hemi-powered Hai built in 1970 by the much-missed Swiss boutique operation Monteverdi, also with AC. 

1971 Plymouth Hemi Road Runner.

The intermediate line was revised in 1971 using the then current corporate motif of “fuselage styling” and it was probably more aesthetically pleasing there than when applied to the full-sized cars which truly were gargantuan.  The 1971 Satellites used distinctly different bodies for the two and four-door models and while there were no more convertibles, the Street Hemi and Six-Barrel 440 enjoyed a swansong season although sales were low, the muscle car era almost at an end and although in late 1971 a reported seven 1972 Road Runners with the Six-Barrel option were built, 1971 really was the end of the line for both engines.