Cheater

Cheater (pronounced chee-ter)

(1) A person who cheats.

(2) Specifically, an adulterer (although used in the same sense of infidelity generally, even when neither party is married). 

(3) A device or component used to evade detection of non-compliance with rules or regulations (such as the (Dieselgate) mechanical and electronic devices used by Volkswagen and others to cheat emissions testing programmes).  As a mechanical device a cheater is thus "a modifier" and the word is also often used as one.

(4) Slang (in the plural) for eyeglasses or spectacles (archaic).

(5) In mechanical repair, an improvised breaker bar made from a length of pipe and a wrench (spanner), used typically to free screws, bolts etc proving difficult to remove with a ratchet or wrench alone; any device created ad-hoc to perform a task not using the approved or designated tools.

1300-1350: From the Middle English cheater from cheat, from cheten, an aphetic variant of acheten & escheten, from the Old French eschetour, escheteur & escheoiter, from the noun; it displaced native Old English beswican.  The -er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, probably borrowed from the Latin -ārius.  The adoption was reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant was -our), from the Latin -(ā)tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  The suffix was added to a person or thing that does an action indicated by the root verb, thereby forming the agent noun.  The noun cheatery is now rare, existing only in old texts.  Escheat refers to the right of a government to take ownership of estate assets or unclaimed property, most often when an individual dies without making a will and with no heirs.  In common law, the theoretical basis of escheat was that (1) all property has a recognized owner and (2) if no claimants to ownership exists or can be identified, ownership reverts to the King (in modern terms the state).  However, in some circumstances escheat rights can also be granted when assets are held to be bona vacantia (unclaimed or lost property).  The original sense was of the "royal officer in charge of the king's escheats," and was a shortened form of escheater, agent noun from escheat.  The meaning “someone dishonest; a dishonest player at a game” emerged in the 1530s as the Middle English chetour, a variant of eschetour following the example of escheat +‎ -er which evolved in English in the modern form cheater (cheat + -er).  Cheater & cheatery are nouns; the noun plural is cheaters.

Cheater cars are a frequent sight on several social media platforms, posted presumably by impressed spectators rather than victims or perpetrators.  Techniques and artistry vary but there does seem to be a trend whereby the more expensive the car, the larger and more lurid will be the lettering.  Red, pink and fuchsia appear the colors of choice (the connotation perhaps "scarlet") except where the automotive canvas is some hue of red; those artists adorn mostly in black or white; the use of upper and lower case characters seems to vary.  Like many trends on social media, all may not be what it appears and it's believed some of the "cheater cars" posted are "fake", daubed just as click-bait.

Although the consequence of having violated the the Seventh Commandant, those suffering a "cheatered" care are in a sense "victims" so the following notes are provided as a courtesy to cheaters: If the philandering cheater is (obviously undeservingly) lucky, they’ll find the attack on their car has been symbolic rather than destructive in that the paint is water-based.  If so, if discovered soon after application, it may be possible for it to be dissolved and washed away without having to resort to strong chemicals.  Specialists recommend cleaning the car with just mild, soapy water (thereby removing anything abrasive) and then soaking microfiber towels in the same mix.  Place a wet towel over the affected area for 5-10 minutes (obviously more difficult with vertical surfaces so some improvisation may be demanded) and then gently wipe away the softened paint (do not scrub aggressively because some grit may be embedded; if possible use water spray from domestic garden hose).  If some time has elapsed and the paint fully has dried, usually it's safe to use a rubbing alcohol (such as Isopropyl); this should break down the latex or acrylic binder without harming the paint beneath.  Pour a small quantity of rubbing alcohol onto a clean microfiber cloth, hold on the paint for a few seconds and then gently rub with a circular motion.  Also potentially effective are the citrus-based solvents but these must be used with caution because they’re remarkably strong (left on some plastics, they can melt the surface!) so fluid should be tested on some small, hidden part of the vehicle (such under the hood (bonnet) or beneath carpets).  There are also dedicated clay-based lubricants (they come as conveniently sized bars) that can be “glided” across dampened paint to lift what’s atop without damaging the paint below.  The clay works on as similar basis to rubbing compounds and these may be necessary for any “stubborn spots”.  If the paint used is oil-based or something just as “sticky”, an expert should be consulted because aggressive solvents (industrial paint strippers, acetone, lacquer thinner etc) quickly can eat through to bare metal or whatever material was used for the bodywork.

An sinner's Audi: A Trotskyesque death by pick-axe, Burgas, Bulgaria, September 2005.  Press reports suggested this attack was a "business matter" but it could have been the work of a S5C-APC.

So that’s of paint which is bad enough.  However if one had cheated on a S5C (stage-five clinger, a breed always prone to using paint) who is also APC (actual psycho-chick), the consequences may be worse and S5C-APC may resort to fire-bombing car, attacking it with a baseball bat, slashing tyres or leaving a half-dozen pick-axes buried in the bodywork.  That may sound extreme but the S5C-APC can be exactly that and, after all, cheaters have only themselves to blame and all that can be recommended is following either (1) the Seventh Commandant (Thou shall not commit adultery) or (2) the unwritten eleventh (Thou shall not get caught).  As a technical point, it's acknowledged that suggesting all cheaters are men and all painters (or axe-wielders) are women is sexual stereotyping may be wrong but probably only to the extent almost all cheaters are men and almost all painters (or axe-wielders) are women.

Hell also hath no fury like a woman cheated upon.   

Because it sounds Shakespearian (a construct in literature), the (anyway incorrectly quoted) phrase “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” often is attributed to William Shakespeare (1564–1616).  That's thought plausible because it seems to be in "his voice" and in modern use, often about the only time the Middle English “hath” is seen is in some Shakespearian quote so the association sticks.  The real author however was Restoration playwright William Congreve (1670–1729) who coined the phrase for his 1697 play The Mourning Bride, the protagonist of which, although becoming a bit unhinged by the cruel path of doomed love, doesn’t resort to leporidaecide (bunny boiling).  Congreve’s line, “Heav'n has no rage, like love to hatred turn'd, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorn'd.” was good but actually was a more poetic rendition of a similar but less elegantly expressed version another playwright had used a year earlier.  The Mourning Bride is the source also of another fragment for which the bard is often given undeserved credit: “Music has charms to soothe a savage breast” although that’s often bowdlerized as “Music has charms to soothe a savage beast”.  Politicians notoriously are liars and cheaters, some even cheerfully admitting it (usually when safely in their well-provided for retirement) but in the privacy of their diaries, they're fond of happily (and usually waspishly) admitting it of others.  Although he has a deserved reputation for telling not only lies but big lies, no one has ever disputed Joseph Goebbels’ (1897–1945; Reich Minister of Propaganda 1933 to 1945) assessment of a fellow cabinet member, foreign minister Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Minister of Foreign Affairs 1938-1945) of whom he said “He bought his name, married his money and cheated his way into power”.  Goebbels was a serial adulterer and in his home town was known as "Die Ziege von Berlin" (the goat of Berlin). 

Volkswagen: Cheating as a science 

Guilty as sin.

Oliver Schmidt (b 1969; inmate number 09786-104 in US Federal, York Township, Michigan. right) received a seven year sentence for his involvement in the Volkswagen diesengate scandal.  Herr Schmidt (right) is pictured here receiving a Ward’s “Best Engine” award in 2015.  In US$ terms, dieselgate is thus far the most expensive of the many "gates".  In falsifying things so its diesel engines appeared to be less polluting than they were (certain particulates emitted at up to 40 times the volumes claimed with some 11 million "cheating" vehicles built) Volkswagen certainly gave cheating a bad name and, in addition to the hefty fines imposed in the US and EU (European Union (1993)), the multi-national aggregation which evolved from the EEC (European Economic Community), the Zollverein formed in 1957), in May 2022 the company announced an out-of-court settlement of Stg£193 million (US$242 million) with UK regulators, following the Aus$125 million (US$87 million) imposed by the PVA (Federal Court of Australia).  To date, Dieselgate has cost the company some US$34 billion with guilty verdicts handed down in criminal cases including two former Audi executives: head of engine development Wolfgang Hatz (b 1959) and lead diesel engineer Giovanni Pamio (b 1963) who were handed suspended jail sentences of 24 months and 21 months, respectively.  Hatz was fined €400,000 (US$437,000) and Pamio €50,000 (US$55,000).  All three were guilty as sin so the verdicts were unsurprising.  Volkswagen suffered greater consequences for having be "caught cheating" than did Pontiac in 1973 but that was a single vehicle submitted for testing so really was a case of "attempted cheating".

1971 Volkswagen Karmann Cheetah prototype.

Before they became the industry’s most notorious (although not only) cheats, Volkswagen flirted with the idea of producing a “Cheetah”; designed by Italy’s Italdesign and built by German coachbuilder Karmann, the Volkswagen Karmann Cheetah first appeared in March 1971 at the Geneva Motor Show.  Reflecting the view there were still developmental possibilities in the company’s long-running and highly successful platform used first for the Type 1 (Beetle, 1938-2003), the Cheetah was thought a way to wring one last drop from what had begun life in 1938 as an attempt by the Third Reich (1933-1945) to produce a "people's car".  Over the decades, the approach had yielded much success with the Beetle’s underpinnings yielding military applications and utility vehicles as well as the famous Type 2 (1949-1979, as Microbus, Kombi etc in a wide range of configurations and the lovely Karmann Ghia (in two series, Type 14: 1955–1974 & Type 34: 1961–1969) coupé and cabriolet.  Additionally, conventional (in the then current European style) coachwork had been used for the Type 3 models (1961-1973), built as two door sedans, (including a fastback) and station wagons, the market responding well to more spacious and modern bodies being placed atop the Beetle’s famously reliable and durable drive-train.

1980 Triumph TR8 (left) and Triumph Bullet design study (circa 1970, right).  The "wedge" design language is evident but the lines of the earlier Bullet design study  are even closer to those of the Cheetah; the Volkswagen didn't enter production but many wedges appeared in the 1970s & 1980s.  Like not a few ventures from the doomed British Leyland (1968-1986), as a successor to the highly regarded TR6 (1968-1976), the Triumph TR7 (1974-1972) should have been a success but corporate and governmental ineptitude saw it added to Leyland's large scrapheap.  The TR8 (1977-1982) transformed the TR7's dynamics by use of Rover's 3.5 litre (215 cubic inch) V8 but, as was emblematic of the corporation, just as the concept had been perfected, production ended.  There has been much analysis of the UK's motor industry in the 1970s and 1980s and while conditions (internal and external) often were "difficult", most published accounts conclude Leyland "deserved to fail".  

The idea of the Cheetah was a variation on the theme that had produced the Kombi, Karmann Ghia and such: a low-cost roadster suitable for mass production on existing assembly lines using a 1.6 litre version of the Beetle’s familiar flat-four engine, the power output of 50 HP judged “adequate” because of the light weight and slippery aerodynamics.  In a sign of the times, anticipating US regulations, not only were the front and rear sections designed to accommodate large bumpers but rather than a classic roadster, from Giorgetto Giugiaro's (b 1938) drawing board came a targa, the modernist wedge-shape then highly fashionable.  Because it was then anticipated the traditional convertible would in the US be outlawed, the there was a built-in roll-over bar, integrated into pillars designed to resemble a roadster’s detachable hardtop and the clever targa mechanism was the work of Karmann, the soft-top featuring a translucent sunroof panel above cockpit; it slid down the length of the top's sidebows, tucking neatly between the seats.  However, Volkswagen’s management were by the late 1960s not disconnected from reality and understood the days of mass-market machines with air-cooled rear-engines were coming to an end.  Although still a success, the writing was on the wall for the Beetle and the attempt to translate the concept into larger, four-door form had failed, the 411 (1968–1972) & 412 (1972–1974) ranges never coming close to meeting expectations.  By 1971, work was already advanced on what would be the template to carry the company into the next century (FWD (front wheel drive) with water cooled front-mounted engines) and that program would by 1974 begin to yield the new generations (Sirocco, Passat, Golf, Polo etc).

1972 publicity still for Fiat X1/9.  Because of the juxtaposition of (1) lime green paint and (2) a model in orange hot-pants, no knowledge of automotive history is required to date this photograph from the 1970s.

But the Cheetah seemed compelling because there was rear-engined, air-cooled hay to be made while the sun still shone and the formula (a small, economical, sports car able to be mass-produced at low cost by using components from high volume models) had long been a staple of the UK’s industry (MG, Triumph and Austin Healy all booking good profits through big export sales, especially to the lucrative US market.  On paper, the Cheetah thus made sense and although, (given the 50 HP) the name might have been at least optimistic, the Karmann Ghia sold well despite never having been a high performance car despite the glamorous lines (indeed, slightly heavier than a Beetle, acceleration suffered although the shape added a little to the modest top speed).  Anyway, the Triumph Spitfire’s pace hardly lived up to its illustrious name and the Cheetah was envisaged as something that would sell to those who valued the Beetle’s virtues (economy of operation, reliability, resale value) but would be drawn to its avant-garde looks; at a time when the phrase still could be used, it was a “lady’s car”.  As it was, the decision was taken not to proceed and not long after the debut in Geneva, the Cheetah faded into obscurity although Fiat would in 1972 release the similar-looking X1/9 using the same concept of parts-sharing although with contemporary engineering (water cooled, mid-engined, no swing axles) and it was a success, needing only minimal updates until production ended in 1989.  Volkswagen doubtlessly was right not to proceed with the Cheetah; the historic moment had passed.

Smokey Yunick: Cheating as an art  

Smokey Yunick’s 1966 Chevrolet Chevelle (1963-1977) #13 that some alleged was a 7:8 or 15:16 rendition, here aligned against a grid with a stock body.

In simpler, happier times, cheating could be an accepted part of the process and just something of a contest between poacher and gamekeeper.  In the 1960s, NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) racing in the US was a battle between scrutineers amending their rule-book as cheating was detected and teams scanning the same regulations looking for loopholes and anomalies.  The past master at this cheating was Henry "Smokey" Yunick (1923–2001), a World War II (1939-1945) bomber pilot whose ever-fertile imagination seemed never to lack an imaginative venture aimed at securing some advantage while remaining compliant with the letter of the law (at least according to his interpretation).  His cheats were legion but probably the most celebrated (and there were some who thought this one legitimate) concerned his interpretation of the term “fuel tank capacity”.  NASCAR's rulebook specified the maximum quantity of fuel a tank could hold but said nothing about the steel fuel line running from tank to engine so Mr Yunick replaced the modest ½ inch (12.5 mm) tube with one 11 feet (3.6 m) long and two inches (50 mm) wide, holding a reputed 5 (US) gallons (19 litres) of gas (petrol).  That was his high-tech approach.  Earlier he’d put an inflated basketball into an oversized tank before the car was inspected by scrutineers: when they filled the tank, it would appear to conform to regulations; these days it’d be called “inflategate”.  After passing inspection, Mr Ynuick would deflate the ball, pull it out and top-up his oversized tank for the race.  Pointing out there was nothing in the rules about basketballs didn’t help him but did lead to the rule about a maximum “fuel tank capacity”, hence the later 11 foot-long fuel line.

NASCAR's letter of approval.

Mr Yunick’s 1966 Chevrolet Chevelle was different from the stock models but by the mid 1960s, all NASCAR’s "stock" cars were, the days long gone when what were raced were essentially "stripped-out versions of showroom-stock cars".  The difference certainly was perceptible to the naked eye and an urban legend arose it was a 7:8 (some said 15:16) scale version.  The body’s external dimensions were however those of a stock Chevelle although the body was moved back three inches for better weight distribution, the floor was raised with the underside smoothed to improve the aerodynamics, the same reason the bumpers were flush-fitted to the fenders.  The first car passed inspection (after making the modifications decreed by NASCAR) and took pole position at the 1967 Daytona 500.  He built another imaginative Chevelle for the 1968 race but it never made it past inspection.  In 1990, Smokey Yunick was inducted into the International Motorsports Hall of Fame, a recognition as richly deserved as it was overdue.

The speedy cheetah

Singer and dancer Josephine Baker (1906–1975) with Chiquita, her pet cheetah.

A true homophone of cheater, cheetah (the plural cheetahs) wholly is unrelated.  Cheetahs are large cats (Acinonyx jubatus) of south-western Asia and Africa, resembling a leopard but noted for certain dog-like characteristics which is why they’re sometimes been trained for hunting game (deer, antelope etc) and they have even occasionally been fully domesticated as pets; they're said to be "affectionate and protective but never fully house trained".  Dating from the early eighteenth century, cheetah was from the Hindi चीता (cītā (leopard, panther), from the Sanskrit citraka (leopard) & citrakāya (tiger) the construct being चित्र (citra) (multicoloured; speckled) + काय (kāya) (body, thus “beast with a spotted body”).  The Sanskrit citra was akin to the Old High German haitar (bright), the German heiter and the Old Norse heiðr (bright) and ultimately was from the primitive Indo-European kit-ro-, from the root skai- (to shine, gleam, be bright).  Kāya ultimately was from the primitive Indo-European kwei- (to build, make).  The now archaic alternative spellings were cheetah & cheetah and historically, the creatures were known also as the guepard, hunting cat or hunting leopard.  Understandably, given their size and predatory nature, it’s not uncommon for cheetahs to be referred to as “big cats” but in zoological taxonomy, felinologists restrict the “big cat” classification to the genus Panthera (lions, tigers, leopards, snow leopards & jaguars) and one defining feature of the Panthera cats is their ability to roar, made possible by a specific structure in their larynx.  Lacking the anatomical feature, cheetahs can purr, chirp & hiss but not roar.

A female cheetah at speed.

According to Dr Anne Marie Helmenstine, computer modelling suggests a cheetah should be able (briefly) to attain a speed of 75 mph (120 km/h) although its hunting technique is to maintain an average of 40 mph (65 km/h), sprinting to the maximum only when making a kill.  Cheetahs have been verified as attaining 60 mph (96.5 km/h) and if required, the quick cats can go from 0-60 mph in 3 seconds (three strides), putting them in the class of the quickest Lamborghinis, Ferraris and such but they're sprinters with little endurance, able to sustain top speed for little more than a quarter-mile (400 metres).  Like engineering, nature imposes trade-offs and although pronghorn antelopes have been recorded running at a slightly slower 55 mph (88 km/h), they're able to sustain that for around a half-mile (800 metres) although 40 mph (70 km/h) can be maintained for several miles and their "natural cruising speed" of 30 mph is possible for as much as 20 miles (32 km) depending on the terrain and weather conditions.  The speed and endurance differentials between cheetahs and antelopes explains why the cat's tactic is to get as close as possible before closing for a kill; if the prey is not caught within 300-400 metres, it'll likely escape although, in the wild, not every encounter is one-on-one; a antelope seeking to outrun one cheetah runs the risk of running into the path of another.

Easily, cheetahs can out-sprint humans, the men’s world record for the 100 metre dash standing a 9.58 seconds, compared with an eleven year-old cheetah (in captivity) clocked at 5.95 and her top speed of 61 mph (98 km/h) remaining the highest verified.  For now, the cats remain quicker than even robots, the record at the 2026 World Humanoid Robot Games in Beijing set at 9.39 seconds but while the cheetah probably has reached its evolutionary peak, humanoid robots are still (in evolutionary terms) in an early stage of development so one going quicker then 5.95 may be just a question of whether resources are devoted to the quest; it does seem more likely the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) will direct companies to focus instead on making humanoid robots more "useful" such as for military purposes (neutralizing other machines or killing people).  So for now the pace of the cheetah remains impressive but it's still not the fastest creature on the planet.  In the ocean, Black Marlin have been clocked at 82 mph (132 km/h) while sailfish can for periods swim at 70 mph 110 km/h.  Land and sea creatures are how ever slow compared with birds, the “calculated maximum theoretical speed” of the “ideal Peregrine Falcon” being between 250-388 mph (400-625 km/h) depending on altitude (and thus air density) and while many are sceptical about that, Guinness World Records has accepted the bird’s speed being recorded at 242 mph (389 km/h) in a dive.  Despite that, there are ornithologists who doubt such a velocity has been reached and claim a top speed around 150 mph (240 km/h) is likely more realistic.  Still, that makes them the fastest known animal in the universe.

The Bill Thomas Cheetah

Cheetah cutaway, published in Sports Car Graphics, November, 1963.  Not many front-engined cars had space sufficient to for a usefully-sized frunk.

A contemporary of the Shelby American AC Cobra (1962-1967) and very much in the same vein, the Cheetah (1963-1966) was designed and constructed by California-based race car builder Bill Thomas (1921-2009).  As part of his work as an engineering consultant, Mr Thomas undertook projects for GM (General Motors), his focus on the somewhat clandestine motorsport activities of its Chevrolet division and he parlayed this influence into securing corporate support for the concept that became the Cheetah.  The support was practical in that it yielded most of the mechanical components needed for a prototype including a Chevrolet Corvette's 327 cubic inch (5.3 litre) V8 engine, Muncie four-speed gearbox, independent rear suspension and a miscellany of stuff from the GM parts bin.  It was obviously the pre-CAD (computer-aided-design) era but Mr Thomas didn’t trouble himself with drawing boards or blueprints, instead laying out the drive-train components on the floor of his workshop in what seemed to his practiced eye an ideal arrangement and, with white chalk, he then sketched on the concrete the outline of the chassis frame members.  At that point, a draftsman (with tape measure) was brought in and blueprints were rendered; remarkably, Mr Thomas with great success for decades used this novel design technique (don't try this at home, it needs a gifted engineer).  Once the chassis dimensions were finalized, a body was designed and it’s important to note the project was initially envisaged only as a “concept car”, built for the purpose of impressing GM and thus securing further contracts.  So, conceived as something to be admired rather than used for any serious purpose, it was only as construction continued Mr Thomas sort of “fell in love” with his creation and decided to use it in competition, something to which its low weight and prodigious power should have made it well-suited.  However, the compromises in chassis design which mattered not at all for a concept car meant some structural rigidity had been sacrificed and that was a quality essential in race cars; later rectification work would be required.  The first two Cheetahs were fabricated in aluminum (later models used GRP (glass reinforced plastic, better known as fibreglass) and one was sent to the Chevrolet Engineering Center for testing and evaluation.

1964 Cheetah with clamshell hood open.

The layout was not so much radical as extreme, the conventional F/R (front engine-rear drive) approach taken to a kind of logical conclusion with the engine located so far back the driver’s legs were alongside the block.  In the same way the “mid-engine” configuration was being defined as “engine behind the driver and in front of the rear axle line”, the Cheetah’s variation was “engine in front of driver and behind the front axle line”, already familiar in race cars and in a handful of exotic machines but in the early 1960s still.  As well as offering most of the weight-distribution and handling advantages offered by a mid-engine, the Cheetah’s layout avoided the complication of a transaxle but the drawbacks included inefficiencies in packaging (ie a cramped cockpit) and extraordinary heat-soak, the latter a familiar issue in an era when small, low volume coupés were fitted with large displacement US V8 engines, the elegant AC 428 “Fura” (1965-1973) an exemplar of the phenomenon.  When the Cheetah was tested prior to being used on the track, it was found to be prone to over-heating, largely because the body had been designed to look decorative and no vents had been installed to extract hot air from under the long hood.  That was addressed by the use of a larger radiator and the addition of various vents & ducts, along with a full-length belly pan, meaning subsequent versions lacked the visual purity of the original, the effect not dissimilar to the way the addition of this and that to provide for heat management meant the production versions of the Lamborghini Countach (1974-1978) lacked the sleek starkness of the original prototype, first shown at the 1971 Geneva Motor Show (attracting rather more attention that that other prototype wedge, the Volkswagen Karmann Cheetah).  Still, compared with how subsequent versions of the Countach (1978-1990) would be adorned, the elegance of the early run 160-odd of the LP400 Periscopios remains compelling.

1964 Cheetah, note the cut-outs and vents, subsequent additions to handle the heat generation.  As might be guessed, AC (air conditioning) was not on the option list.

The Cheetah’s dubious structural rigidity was a result of the original chassis being merely a quickly-assembled platform on which the striking body could be mounted to be admired but it was marginal for use even as a road car, let alone one subjected to the stresses of competition; even before testing it was anticipated substantial changes would have to be made.  Because so little triangulation had been incorporated in the original build, the chassis was susceptible flex as the loads imposed by lateral forces increased as high-speed curves were negotiated, meaning the suspension geometry changed, challenging even skilled drivers accustomed to rigid frames that guaranteed the point at which characteristics became frightening was at least predictable.  Additionally, for the testing, the Cheetah was provided with more power (perhaps not the car's most most obvious need) which exacerbated the alarming tendencies, including the rear suspension’s trailing arms bending, slighting altering (sometimes while at high speed!) the location of the wheels.  Adding gusseting and triangulation to the frame and redesigning the trailing arms ameliorated the worst of the characteristics but some vices were inherent in DNA so subsequently, some owners of Cheetahs, seduced by its many virtues, undertook what was essentially a re-engineering of the underpinnings; most of the many replicas and "continuation" editions differ significantly from the originals.  So it was flawed but it was an age of charismatic, imperfect machines and whatever the quirks, the Cheetah was powerful, light and clearly aerodynamic for in a straight line, few could match its pace; the name was chosen for a reason.

Unfortunately, the early 1960s were the end of an era in sports car racing because in addition to the regulatory body (the FIA (Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the International Automobile Federation) already on its descent to becoming world sport's dopiest regulatory body) changing the rules for the class for which the Cheetah was intended so that 1,000 rather than 100 would be required for homologation, in the top flight, the days of the classic front-engined roadsters and coupes in top-line competition were nearly done and the future lay with the rear-mid configuration.  Given all that, Chevrolet withdrew its support although small-scale production continued and some two-dozen were constructed before the last was built in 1965.  The survivors are now high-priced collectables and there have been dozens of replicas although in the twenty-first century, this cottage industry was stalled by a dispute over ownership to the intellectual property associated with the design.  Predictably, although the Cheetah wasn’t obviously a car in need of more power, some owners of the replicas have (commendably) concluded exactly that and fitted a variety of engines including big-block V8s while others have added forced aspiration (turbochargers or superchargers).  Fundamentally, what this approach meant was the “handle with care” injunction wisely applied to the original remained; just more so.

1929 Mercedes-Benz SSK (left) and 1964 Cheetah (right)

The distinctive lines of the Cheetah, its driver sitting over the rear wheels behind a long nose, recalled the pre-war roadsters that provided the model for most of the era’s grand prix cars, the motif lasting into 1960 when (in the unusual circumstances prevailing for Italian Grand Prix at Monza), a Ferrari secured one last win for the front-engined anachronisms.  The Mercedes-Benz SSKs (W06, 1928-1932) & SSKLs (WS06RS, 1931) were classic examples and among the last of the road cars able to win top-flight grand prix events.  The red example (above left) is a 1929 model SSK (one of 33 built) and although the hue is untypical of the breed, in fashion and on the highways, the interwar (1919-1939) years were more colourful that the impression left by the volume of monochrome and sepia images making up so much of the photographic record.  Interestingly, although Mercedes-Benz race cars are much associated with white (the racing color originally allocated to Germany) and silver (adopted by the factory racing team in the 1930s although in not quite the circumstances once claimed) there was a precedent for the use of red because that was the paint applied to the Mercedes Tipo Indy 2.0 used to win the 1924 Targa Florio (setting a race-record time which would stand for a decade), chosen because of the habit of the Sicilian crowds to pelt with rocks any car not painted in Italian Racing Red.  Not since 1920 had a non-Italian car won so it was a wise precaution.

1969 Pontiac Grand Prix Model J.  The name was opportunistic, the big Pontiac having as much in common with a grand prix as the Volkswagen Karmann Cheetah had with speed.

Such is the appeal to stylists of the “long nose” that over the years many have ignored the packaging inefficiencies its use imposes.  It was one of the most commented-upon aspects of the Jaguar E-type (1961-1974) and probably it’s rare for an analysis of that shape to have been written without the word “phallic” appearing at least once.  Even when the effect is not so exaggerated it can be effective, the third generation Pontiac Grand Prix (1969-1972) the last of the memorable designs to emerge from the golden years of GM’s PMD (Pontiac Motor Division) during the 1960s.  Intended to be evocative of the aspect ratios of machines such as the big Duesenbergs of inter-war years, PMD even purloined the “J” & “SJ” designations although with its apple-green straight-8 engines a Duesenberg really did need a long nose; under the hood of the exclusively V8-powered Grand Prix, there was much empty space.

Sublime to ridiculous 

Modified 1973 Volkswagen 1303 Super Beetle.

Nor was it just manufacturers with a fondness for the style.  In Canada, somebody with the requisite skills decided the “Cheetah look” was what a 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle really needed and while it’s obvious the body extensively has been modified, the distorted dimensions are deceptive because the (presumably unique) project sits on an unmodified chassis, the wheelbase unchanged.  Unfortunately or not, the opportunity was not taken to install up front a straight-8 or V16, the car still running the modest, rear-mounted, 1.6 litre (97 cubic inch) flat-4 fitted by the factory (ie underneath, it's the same specification as the abortive Karmann Cheetah prototype).  As well as the curved windscreen, the 1303 featured the 1302’s improved front suspension (an enhancement one tester claimed made it faster point-to-point than a 1963 Porsche 356), the design of which allowed the capacity of the frunk to be increased and this one will be more capacious still; given it’s now a two seater, luggage capacity should be adequate although the front bucket seats have been replaced with a full-width bench so three adults could be accommodated, BMIs (body mass index) and a willingness to rub shoulders permitting.  Because it’s on the same wheelbase, any increase in weight should be minimal and the handling (anyway improved by the revised suspension) presumably will be affected (for better or worse) only by the change in weight distribution.  That said, given the thing is now more tail-heavy, the Beetle's inherent tendency to oversteer (somewhat tamed by 1973) might be more apparent but with the power available, even if it behaves something like an early Porsche 930, should a situation drama occur, probably it'll be at a lower speed.

Ridiculous to absurd     

1980 Cadillac Eldorado “Valentino” by the unimaginatively named Conversions Incorporated, a Michigan-based customizing house (left) and 1981 Cadillac Eldorado "Regal Coach" by Florida's International Coach Works Company, a selling point the Rolls-Royceish “flying lady” hood ornament, said to make it a “real head turner” (right).  Heads can of course turn for reasons good and bad.

In the sometimes weird world that was the ecosystem of modified PLCs (personal luxury coupe) in the US of the 1970s and 1980s, the “long nose” style didn't exist in isolation.  It was one of a number of design elements part of the “neo-classical” movement that included also side-exit, flexible exhaust pipes (referencing the often supercharged pre-war machines (a la the Mercedes-Benz SSK but by the 1970s almost always fake), upright chrome-plated grills (Rolls-Royce the preferred inspiration), T-roof assemblies (a modern take on the old sedanca de ville coach-work), fake wire wheels and external spare tyres, the rear one in a "Continental kit" (a look that to this day refuses to die), the fender-mounted pair taking advantage of the eighteen-odd inches (460 mm) spliced between A-pillar and front wheel.  The spares used the space where sometimes sat the external exhaust pipes so it was a choice to be made by customers although some builders just left the expanse of sheet metal, emphasizing the elongation.  For all its foibles, the US is one of the most remarkable nations ever created and, having the the previous quarter century mastered nuclear fission & fusion, produced the Bill Thomas Cheetah and sent a dozen men to walk on the Moon, other Americans turned to doing this to Cadillac Eldorados.  It's a cliché to say "American has the best of everything and the worst of everything" but the phrase endures for good reason. 

Breakdown

Breakdown (pronounced breyk-doun)

(1) Of machines, a breaking down, wearing out, or sudden loss of ability to function efficiently; something, typically a vehicle or other machine that has experienced mechanical failure.

(2) In political science (of societies), economic collapse, societal fracturing etc.

(3) In mental or physical health, a form of collapse (figurative & literal), associated typically (1) with a sudden worsening of physical health (although that may be the culmination of long-existing issues) or (more commonly) mental stability, resulting in an inability to carry on normal activities; an instance of these manifestations.

(4) In relationships (personal or institutional), a fracturing of previous feelings or arrangements between parties; a failure of or within a relationship; often as a prelude to a “break-up”; a failure or loss of organization in a system.

(5) An analysis or classification of something; division into parts, categories, processes etc; a separation of a thing into components; decomposition, fragmentation.

(6) The detailed categorization, itemization or listing of the components of a thing (usually in printed or digital form).

(7) In biology & chemistry, the natural process of decomposition; specifically in chemistry, the breaking of chemical bonds within a compound to produce simpler compounds or elements; an instance of this.

(8) In physics, the sudden (sometimes damaging) transition of an electrical insulator to a conductor when subjected to a sufficiently strong voltage, caused by the partial or complete ionization of the insulator; an instance of this; also, the minimum voltage at which this occurs.  The classic example is an electric discharge passing through faulty insulation or other material used to separate circuits or passing between electrodes in a vacuum or gas-filled tube.

(9) In bodybuilding, gym routines etc, the “drop set” (a weight training technique).

(10) In veterinary use (equine medicine), injury to a horse's leg causing lameness; an instance of this.

(11) In rugby union, the short period of open play immediately after a tackle and before and during the ensuing ruck (and, to some extent, the maul). 

(12) In film, television (and such) production, a detailed description of a forthcoming project or screenplay which identifies all the required elements, such as the cast, costumes, equipment, props, special effects etc (separate from financing aspects likely also to involve multiple breakdowns, often on spreadsheets).

(13) In forestry, an act of splitting logs of wood using a large saw in a sawmill; the saw used or (rarely) the building in which the process is carried out (use of the term uncommon outside New Zealand.

(14) In music, a part of a piece of a composition that differs from other parts in that it features improvisation or is stripped down (played using fewer instruments or performed by a soloist).

(15) In music, a synonym of “percussion break” (a percussion-focused segment of a song, interpolated through cutting, mixing, and other techniques in order to create “rhythmic music”).

(16) In music, (especially the ominous-sounding sub-genres metalcore, grindcore, & deathcore (the distinction best explained by experts)), a section of a song, characterized by a lower tempo, greater “heaviness” and intensity of sound.

(17) In music, a loud, lively dance from folk traditions, historically conducted usually in a rural setting, most prevalent in the US, south of the Mason-Dixon Line; the terms  “hoedown” & “shindig” are related; a piece of music played for such an event, historically especially the rapid bluegrass tunes featuring the five-string banjo.

1832: The construct was break + down.  Break was From the Middle English breken, from the Old English brecan (to divide solid matter violently into parts or fragments; to injure, violate (a promise, undertaking etc.), destroy, curtail; to break into, rush into; to burst forth, spring out; to subdue, tame (the past tense of bræc & past participle of brocen), from the Proto-West Germanic brekan, from the Proto-Germanic brekanan (source also of the Old Frisian breka, the Dutch breken, the Old High German brehhan, the German brechen and the Gothic brikan), from the primitive Indo-European root bhreg- (to break).  There evolved strong linguistic links with brick, brake & breach.  The thirteen century past tense “brake” became archaic but the past participle “broken” endured, the shortened form “broke” in use by at least the mid 1300s and said by the OED (Oxford English Dictionary) to be “exceedingly common” during the eighteenth & nineteenth centuries.  The alternative form is the hyphenated break-down and in scientific use the two spellings can be applied for different purposes.  Breakdown is a noun; the noun plural is breakdowns.

Poster for Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1989).

The early nineteenth century use was in the sense of “a collapse, a falling apart”, and was of machinery or mechanical processes; the use in metal health (as “nervous breakdown”) documented in the medical literature since 1866 but clinical or oral use may have a longer history.  As a transitive verb, the phrase “break down” was in use by at least the late fourteenth century (in the sense “take down by breaking” while as an intransitive verb (“come down by breaking”), use seems to have emerged in the late 1820s.  As early as 1856 the use is attested in the sense of “to fail through incapacity, excess emotion etc” and this presumably influence the adoption a decade later in the context of discussing mental health (it was in the mid nineteenth century something recognizable as “psychiatry” (in the modern understanding) began to evolve.  The noun (specifically of machinery) was in use by at least 1838 while the meaning “an analysis in detail” emerged in US management jargon in the mid 1930s, based on the notion of “breaking a process into its component parts to permit better analysis of both the pieces and the whole” (an extension of the verbal phrase in use earlier in the decade in the sense of “analyze, classify”.  The American folk dance tradition of “a noisy, lively dance sometimes accompanied by singing” was documented by 1864 but historians suggest the musical form dated back decades and was recorded in writing only when witnesses from the North were documenting conditions in the South towards the end of the US Civil War (1861-1865).  Breakdown became a common element in formation (breakdown crane, breakdown lane, breakdown lorry, breakdown truck, breakdown point, breakdown voltage, climate breakdown, electrical breakdown, mental breakdown, nervous breakdown, organizational breakdown, structural breakdown, supply-chain breakdown etc.

World Rugby's Laws of Rugby Union (2026 edition).  Although the word “breakdown” is not used, the rules (14, 15 & 16) regulating the well-known concept are detailed on pages 68-80.

Because just about any object could be broken, “break” widely was adapted, even serving (of paper & fabric) a la the later senses of “cut”, “tear” or “divide” although in Old English the sense of a broken bone was always “brecan”.  The intransitive sense of “be or become separated into fragments or parts under action of some force” dates from the late twelfth century, extending within decades to “make a first and partial disclosure” while the idea of “lessen, impair” was current by the late 1400s.  The sense of in some way to “destroy continuity or completeness” was from at least the 1740s while in 1882 the phrase “to break” is recorded in reference to physical currency (ie convert large denomination banknotes or coins into smaller units of the same total value).  Although in principle rugby union remains a simple game (once with a four-page rule book), under the auspices of the wise men of the IRB (International Rugby Board, 1886-2014) and later the equally diligent men & women of World Rugby (since 2014), the core rule book is now a hefty 100-odd pages so while it remains simple (relatively speaking; it’s a game of “shapes” rather than “angles”) to play, it’s quite a challenge for referees and as an example, during a breakdown, one referee might find a half-dozen transgressions to penalize while another would “allow the game to flow”, the latter approach preferred by most spectators.  In those hundred pages, the word “breakdown” doesn’t appear but that aspect of the game is covered by rules 14 (Tackle), 15 (Ruck) & 16 (Maul).

The figurative sense of “breaking someone’s heart” (although in modern medicine it’s now acknowledged people can “die from (figuratively) broken heart”) was in use by the late 1300s and other such adaptations included “break bread together” (share food) (late 1300s); “break ground" (to dig or plough land for agricultural purposes) (1670s and by 1710 that literal use was extended figuratively to mean “begin to execute a plan”)."  To break the ice as to “overcome the feeling of restraint in a new acquaintanceship” and was from the late 1500s, the reference being to the “coldness" of encounters of strangers.  The familiar break wind (the sanitized form of “a fart”) was documented in the 1550s but, farts being more ancient, use could have predated that.  The also familiar “to break (something) out” could come from anywhere but was recorded in the 1890s as dock-worker’s slang describing freeing cargo prior to unloading.  The ironic theatrical good luck incantation “break a leg” was definitely in use early in the twentieth century and similar forms exist also in Italian & German.  According to some sources, in the seventeenth century it was used euphemistically (of a woman) to convey “to have a bastard child.”

Cup of char.  Under the Raj, the ritual of the "tea break" in the Indian Civil Service became codified (time span; size of cup according to the official's grade of employment).

The thirteenth century noun use (act of breaking, forcible disruption or separation) came from the verb but apparently not until the late 1500s was it customary to speak of “daybreak” or “break of day” but that notion was by the 1720s in use with the meaning “a sudden, marked transition from one course, place, or state to another”.  The first meal of the day (ie when one “breaks one’s overnight fasting)” was by the mid fifteenth century routinely called “breakfast”.  The sense of a “short interval between spells of work” began in schools in the 1860s and the concept came widely to be applied (sport, employment etc) and was sometimes codified in rigid forms (by the Indian Civil Service’s “tea break” in 1911 and the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) in broadcasting in 1940).  The meaning “stroke of luck” (widely used: “lucky break” or “give me a break”, “never give a sucker an even break” etc) is believed derived from billiards (a game in which the “opening break” (first shot) scatters the ordered balls and is attested from 1865).  The use in music began in the 1920s when jazz musicians began to refer to “improvised passages or solos” thus, the idea being something that was a “break” between structured sections.  The original dance form called “breakdown” (defined by the OED as “a riotous dance, in the style of the negroes”) was probably from some time in the nineteenth century but definitely was from south of the Mason-Dixon Line although element of the style probably can be identified in the folk traditions of many cultures.

Raygun Breaking.

Australian breakdancer (breaker) Dr Rachael “Raygun” Gunn (b 1987), during her much-discussed “highly original” performance at the 2024 Paris Summer Olympics.  Between 2020-2026, Dr Gunn was a lecturer in the Department of Media, Communications, Creative Arts, Language & Literature at Macquarie University Faculty of Arts, Sydney, Australia.  Her Ph.D thesis (2017) was titled Deterritorializing Gender in Sydney's Breakdancing Scene: A B-girl's Experience of B-boying in which she explored “The intersection of gender and Sydney's breaking culture”.  The Ph.D was in the (obviously wide) field “cultural studies” but after her appearance in Paris was publicized, on X (formerly known as Twitter) there was much comment about universities conferring “doctorates in break dancing” being a sign of decline in academic standards.   

The more modern “breakdance” seems to have begun in New York City in the 1970s; it was when DJs (disc jockey) played exclusively the “rhythmic break sections from pop-dance songs” and crowds danced accordingly, originally presumably impromptu but the discipline later evolved into choreographed structures.  If, upon entering a room, one sees breakdancing in progress, one’s comment to one’s companion should be: “We are among barbarians.”  Break dancing was included as a “sport” in the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris although the participants are said to prefer it be called “breaking” and the appearance in Paris is thought to have been an attempt to seek the younger demographic not attracted by the charms of “Olympic traditions” such as Greco-Roman wrestling.  The reaction was mixed and, at this time, Breaking is not on the schedules of either the 2028 (Los Angeles) or 2032 (Brisbane) games.   

Although “down” can be used also as a noun, verb, adjective & preposition, as an element in the noun “breakdown”, it operates as an adverbial particle.  What it does is modify the meaning of the verb “break” (in this sense “indicating separation or failure” to create the new noun.  In this context (in a descending direction, from a higher to a lower place, degree, or condition), the pre 1000 down was from the Middle English doun & doune (down), from the Old English dūne (down), an aphetic (loss of a word's initial unstressed vowel) form of adūne (down, downward), from the earlier ofdūne (down (literally “off the hill”), the construct being of- (of, off) + -dūn(e) (hill, mount, dune, down).  Influencing the development from directional phrases to prepositions were the Old Frisian adverb dene (down (literally “(to the) floor”)), the Middle Low German dāle (down, downwards (literally “(in/to the) dale/valley”) from which the German Low German gained dal (down).  The form was cognate with the Scots doon (down) and can be compared with the Saterland Frisian deel (down (literally “to/into the dale”)) and the West Frisian del (down).  The familiar meaning “in a descending direction, from a higher to a lower place, degree, or condition” was inherited from a late development in the Old English that produced a shortened form of the earlier ofdune.  While in general Germanic, this sense development of “hill" uniquely was English.  As a preposition used to mean “in a descending direction upon or along”, use dates from at least the late fourteenth century.  As an idiomatic form, the uses in English of “down” (both literal and figurative) are legion.

Satirical engraving LADIES! LADIES! Mystery of Modern Modesty, Fun magazine, 12 March, 1870.  At the time there was a national debate about the operation of the Matrimonial Causes Act (1857) and the Women's Property Act (1870).

The 1857 Act created a Court of Divorce and Matrimonial Causes and it was in many ways an advance in women’s rights in that it made divorce more accessible but there was an inherent unfairness (something perhaps not surprising in a law emerging from an all-male parliament).  While, as before, men could divorce their wives on the basis of adultery alone, a woman was compelled to prove not only her husband’s adultery but also an additional cause (one or more of cruelty, desertion, incest, rape, sodomy or bestiality).  It was a sexual double standard, the origins of which can be traced to Biblical scripture and reinforced in law the notion a woman's infidelity was inherently worse than that of a man.  Despite that hurdle, the acts did make things slightly better for women in that for the first time there was statutory protection ensuring a divorced woman’s future earnings and property were shielded from claims by an ex-spouse.  Gradually, other reforms further improved things but what didn’t change until the “no fault” principle to some degree civilized divorce proceedings was that the act made “break-ups after break-downs” into a spectator sport and there were tabloid newspapers with sometimes pages of coverage of the antics of the famous or the more salacious conduct by others.

Breakdownism is legal slang referencing the “no-fault” principle existing in many jurisdictions as grounds for divorce.  First becoming popular during the 1970s, it essentially created “divorce on demand”, a reform that has had far-reaching effects (both good and ill) and is thus far thought the “final state” of Western divorce law; certainly it’s an advance “contested” divorces (often highly entertaining matters for others than the parties whose infidelities were being publicized, sometimes with appropriate photographic evidence.  The classic “contested divorce” was a creature of the old Matrimonial Causes Act (1857); prior to that a “complete divorce” permitting remarriage almost always required a private Act of Parliament, a procedure expensive and highly public.  It was also time-consuming, demanding (1) proceedings in an ecclesiastical court seeking an order of separation, (2) in the case of a husband seeking divorce, a successful action for “criminal conversation” (damages against the adulterer) in a common-law court, (3) a correctly drafted private divorce bill introduced into the House of Commons (“first reading”), (4) debate(s) on the bill (“second reading”) that might see the matter (5) “referred to committee for consideration”, (5) a vote in on the bill (“third reading”) that, if passed would see the bill (proposed law) sent to “the other place” (House of Lords) for (6) three readings, possible committee stages and a vote.  If the bill survived all that, it became an act and upon (7) royal assent being granted (by a monarch or their representative (governor, governor-general etc) it was valid law and the divorce had happened.  The subsequent (8) “gazetting” (publication in the Government Gazette) was merely procedural.

So one really had to want a divorce and have the means to obtain one; given all that, it’s not surprising wives and husbands were sometimes murdered as a “work-around”.  One handy solution was however available to certain colonial administrators resident in places where the Islamic Sharia courts operated, applicants often finding the judges much more sympathetic to men wishing quickly to rid themselves of now unsatisfactory wives.  The concept of “breakdownism” ended most of the legal entertainment and the notion of “irreconcilable differences” became the standard expression cited as grounds for divorce.  Regrettably, the tale of one eighteenth century bishop “bribing or persuading" a parliamentary draftsman to insert in an innocuous (and thus not diligently scrutinized) bill the line: “the Bishop of xxx is declared divorced” appears to be apocryphal and may have begun as an illustrative example of the supremacy of parliament over sovereign & church before becoming a “legal legend”.  It probably is a good thing members of the House of Lords no longer debate whether or not to grant someone a divorce because that would at times have meant Lord Peter “Mandy” Mandelson (b 1953) having a vote and the thought of him opining on matters of the conduct and personal morality of others is something to ponder.  The term “meltdownism” is non-standard and used of those for whom “having meltdowns” seems a calling or who obviously “stage” them as a tactic.

Barnes Auto advertising, circa 1939.

In business before World War I (1914-1918) Barnes Auto operates a towing business in Brisbane, Australia, their trucks still adorned in striking blue and orange stripes.  Around 1937, the decision was taken to build a “streamlined breakdown lorry” and while designers in Europe and the US had for some years been applying aerodynamic techniques to heavy trucks, most were produced to improve average speeds and lower fuel consumption on (relatively) high-speed, long-distance routes.  Influenced by advances in aviation, streamlining since the 1920s increasingly had appeared on vehicles on both sides of the Atlantic, the best remembered the grand prix and LSR (land-speed record) machines but stylists (with and without wind-tunnel data), applied the techniques both to mass-market and expensive vehicles so trucks were a logical subject for study given the importance to operators of time and running costs.  Whether Barnes Auto’s 78 HP (horsepower) breakdown lorry, geared as it was to suit its purpose, would often have attained speeds at which the presumed aerodynamic advantages would have rendered either better performance or economy is dubious and the shape may have been more an art deco inspired “rolling advertisement” rather than a piece of functionalism but, if that was the case, it worked because it appears to be the only Brisbane “tow truck” of the era to have survived as a feature in the photographic record.  Certainly, compared with other trucks at the time on the road, the blue & orange striped machine must have been eye-catching.

Barnes' Breakdown Lorry fully loaded, three behind, one in front.

Lorry is of uncertain origin but thought most likely from the dialectal English lurry (to lug or pull about, to drag).  The use emerged in the early to mid-nineteenth century and was applied initially small carts or wagons (both hand propelled and horse-drawn), use quickly extending to the open carriages used on railroads to haul goods or commodities.  In much of the English-speaking world, from the early twentieth century, use transferred to motorized vehicles used for the same purpose and that made sense because the earliest powered lorries literally were the same “carriages” with an engine and drive-train added.  “Lorry” in that sense endures in some places in the old British Empire (notably in India & Pakistan where the linguistic inheritance of the Raj remains strong) but in many places (certainly North America), “truck” (and other specialized forms) became preferred.  Even in some places where use of “lorry” lingers, it's now often a sometimes rare niche word describing freight-vehicles larger than “pick-ups” but smaller than “trucks”.  In Australia and New Zealand, it's possible “lorry” may go extinct as those who grew up with the word age and die.

“Tugboat Annie”, waiting for a breakdown needing a tow, Mankato, Minnesota, US, 1937.

The coach-built body was created by (the still operating) Watt Brothers of Wolloongabba on a 1938 Dodge two-ton truck chassis, shortened, reinforced and converted to full forward control.  Although new to Brisbane, similar lines had been seen in US, notably on “Tugboat Annie”, built in Mankato, Minnesota and based on a 1937 International cabover tow truck; presumably such things provided the template followed by the Watts.  The 78 HP, six cylinder engine (one of the variants of Chrysler’s long-serving “flathead six, 1924-1963), was connected through a series of reduction gears via a double-faced clutch to a double jib hoist capable of a ten-ton lift with the lifting and trailing gear arranged so four vehicles simultaneously could be towed: three at the rear, one in front, an apparatus now unlikely much to impress Australian regulatory.  There doesn’t appear to be footage of the breakdown lorry on the move with four broken–down cars attached (three to the rear, one in front) but it would have required a driver with skill and experience, especially to handle the behaviour of the one ahead, the whole ensemble presumably acting like something centrally “hinged”.  On aspect that would have assisted in that was the outstanding visibility the styling afforded a driver, the extremities of the load being a critical thing to monitor.  Because of the four-vehicle capacity, an impressive 600 feet (183 metres) of wire rope was carried, the location of the connection-points on the towed vehicles an important factor in maintaining directional control while in movement.  The Breakdown Lorry served throughout World War II (1939-1945) and wasn’t replaced (by a conventionally styled, English-built, crew cab Dodge) until the mid 1950s.  Regrettably, Barnes proved unsentimental about retired equipment and once deemed obsolete, Breakdown Lorry was sent to a local rubbish dump, meaning an improbable piece of art deco history was lost but, because of the evidence in photographic archives, the distinctive lines attracted the model-makers, Autocult releasing one in 1:43 scale.

The Breakdown Lorry with Douglas DC-3, Brisbane International Airport, circa 1942 (colorized image).

In Australia, the DC-3 was operated by the RAAF (Royal Australian Air Force), Ansett Airlines, TAA (Trans Australia Airlines, ANA (Australian National Airways) and a myriad of smaller operators.  Produced mostly between 1936-1945, over 600 were built; robust, economical to operate and with an admirable safety record, it was for years a mainstay of civil aviation and General Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; POTUS 1953-1961), who often travelled in one while Supreme Commander Allied Expeditionary Forces (1943-1945), reckoned the DC-3 was one of the tools (others including the bazooka and Jeep) that made Allied victory in World War II possible by 1945.  The DC-3 in the photograph is "Kyilla" (registered as VH-UZJ), the first one imported into Australia (the invoiced cost Aus£41,000).  Delivered in November 1937, it flew with AoA (Airlines of Australia, an operator that in 1931 originally traded as NEA (New England Airlines) before in 1942 being absorbed by ANA).  Between 1939-1940, Kyilla was leased (“temporarily impressed” the wartime terminology) to the RAAF to cover a “delivery gap” and in 1943 it commenced regular service in ANA.

Autocult's 1:43 scale model.

Trucks in the era were anyway low-geared (in some jurisdictions, above a certain gross weight, maximum speeds as low as 30-40 mph (50-70 km/h) sometimes were imposed but the gearbox in the Barnes Breakdown Lorry had an unusually low ratio first-gear (a so-called “stump puller” of the type often seen in agricultural vehicles), enabling it to ascend even the steepest grades, allowing vehicles to be recovered from hilly terrain.  The apparatus used for the double jib hoist must have been intriguing to see and the mechanism, developed in-house by Barns was fine piece of engineering, combining intricacy with robustness while eschewing needless complexity.  In that it followed the maxim on design and problem-solving coined by German architect Professor Heinrich Tessenow (1876-1950): “The simplest form is not always the best, but the best is always simple.”  That was a refinement of novacula Occami (Occam's razor), a principle attributed to the English Franciscan friar, theologian & philosopher Guillelmus de Ockham (William of Ockham circa  1287–1347).  Occam’s razor (the idea one of “cutting away the unnecessary”) recommends searching for explanations constructed with the smallest possible set of elements; on that basis it was styled also as lex parsimoniae (law of parsimony), often glossed as Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitate (Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity).  Even today the mechanism on a tow truck is a fine example of Professor Tessnow’s maxim being applied with brutish efficiency although modern regulations mean something as intriguing as Barnes’ “four strand” arrangement can no longer be used.

One of the many curiosities in English is despite “up” & “down” being diametric opposites, “break down” and “break up” can mean the same thing.  In human relationships, it’s not uncommon for a “break-up” of a couple to follow a “break-down” in their relationship but when applied to physical objects, some are said to be “broken down” while others are “broken up”, despite the processes being conceptually much the same.  The apparent anomaly is explained by the history of the industries involved and conventions of English.  As a general principle, of objects, “break down” means “to dismantle something into its constituent parts or to reduce it to a simpler state”, meaning the term is used to emphasize fragmentation, destroying the integrity of something as a single object.  Despite that, the convention in the business of “shipbreaking” (literally “cutting apart” vessels and using the metal as “scrap”) is of being “broken up”.  The origin of shipbreaking dates from the nineteenth century when the iron and later steel that had come to be used for the structures was valued as scrap metal after a vessel’s economic life had ended.  This involved sometimes dozens of workers stripping fittings from hulls before progressively cutting or demolishing what remained, section by section, until nothing recognizably nautical remained.  In the industry and in news reports, even then the process routinely was referred to as “breaking up”. 

Putting up a final struggle: HMS Vanguard aground on the way to the wrecker's yard to be broken up, Portsmouth Harbour, England, 4 August, 1960.

Launched in 1946, Vanguard was the RN's (Royal Navy) last dreadnought and no nation has since commissioned a battleship.  In the space of a half-century, the battleship shifted from the most powerful military weapon on earth to a white elephant and despite use of the word “battleship” during Donald Trump's (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) recent mention that the USS Defiant would be the first of the new “Trump Class” of surface warships, the USN (US Navy) will not be launching any true “battleships”, the service having in 1992 struck from the list the last of the four Iowa Class ships commissioned between 1943-1944.

Obviously, shipbreaking, while in a sense a well-planned and careful “disassembly”, was an act of “total and final destruction”, the many pieces of metal sent to be “melted down” before being transformed into something else (not necessarily another ship).  That use of the term was different from the process undertaken by mechanics or technicians when “breaking down” a piece of equipment. Something done typically to effect repairs or maintenance, the emphasis very much on a carefully ordered process, disassembly most systematic because all or some of the components removed would need to be restored to their original positions when the thing was “put back together”.  So that’s how the conventions emerged: (1) “breaking up” a destructive process and (2) “breaking down a step in processes of repair, maintenance or upgrades.  Deconstructing the elements at the etymological level, there’s no reason why the terms couldn’t have been applied the other way round but, by patterns of use, the idiomatic forms became fixed.

A Lindsay Lohan “meltdown scene”, The Canyons (2013).

In the furnaces fed by the shipbreakers, to “melt down” was literally to bring scrap metal to its melting point, meaning it flowed like a liquid and could be cooled to form into shapes able to be re-used (plates, bars, beams etc).  In the post-war years, “meltdown” (first in this context recorded in 1963) ominously became familiar as the graphical encapsulation of what would happen to at least a large part of the core of a nuclear-reactor were the fuel elements subject to inadequate cooling.  The idea was the highly radioactive core would become so hot it would “melt down”, through the floor to the earth below.  Depending on the thickness of the facility’s concrete floor a core could in theory do exactly that but extending the idea to the popular description “China syndrome” was fanciful.  That idiom was based on the notion that if one (in Europe) kept digging a hole, eventually they’d dig “all the way to China” (“China” a synecdoche for “other side of the world”).  In many places the geography would have been dubious but so too the geology; even by 2026 the deepest hole ever dug remains Hole SG-3 (Kola Superdeep Borehole) in Russia’s Murmansk region.  Begun as a Soviet scientific project in 1970, by 1989 it achieved a vertical depth of 12.7 kilometres (7.6 miles) into the Earth's continental crust at which point the project had to be abandoned because temperatures at the drill bit had reached 180°C (356°F), much hotter than the expected 100°C (356°F).  At that level, rock becomes too soft successfully to drill.  Technically, the 12.7 km depth was a remarkable piece of applied engineering but to put the “China Syndrome” into perspective that’s around 0.2% of the way to the planet’s centre (the Earth's radius is some 6,371 kilometres (3959 miles)).

The “Elephant's Foot”, Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, Ukraine.  It came more to resemble a boot but when first identified, it was though to be more “pachydermish”.

So, in a nuclear meltdown, a core would have a long way to go and, in the most infamous example to date, the core didn’t get even to the Earth’s surface.  In April 1986, reactor 4 of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant (in Ukraine, then one of the constituent SSRs (Soviet Socialist Republic) of the Soviet Union (1922-1991)) exploded after a serious of procedural errors in what was, with the darkest irony, supposed to be a routine “safety test”.  When the heat of the core passed the “critical point of no return” the meltdown started, the core (a molten, toxic, lava-like mixture of uranium fuel, graphite, steel and concrete (“corium” in the jargon) melted through the bottom of the reactor vessel, flowing through pipes, corridors, and steam suppression pools inside the building.  The core did however stay completely within the facility’s basement levels (made from thick concrete) and it remains radioactive although it has now cooled to the point where it’s possible to stand relatively close without receiving a dangerous dose although, uranium being almost inert, if left undisturbed, when (10 billion years from now) our Sun expires (having “burned up” the fuel sustaining its nuclear fusion) some 25% of it will remain extant and the Elephant's Foot will be about as radioactive as its weight in bananas.  A banana contains Potassium-40 and is about as radioactive as a typical carrot or potato but other foods are more so, Brazil nuts by a factor of more than three.

Bruno Ganz’s “Hitler’s meltdown scene” in Downfall (2004).

In informal use, “meltdown” is used of sudden declines in stock prices or other undesirable “sharp market corrections” but the most popular use is of “dramatic performances” (of grief, rage, despair etc) consequent upon a sudden loss of control over one’s feelings or behavior.  Mothers will be familiar with meltdowns by their toddlers, typically over life-changing issues such as not getting an ice cream or the television being switched-off.  On screen, one of the most famous depictions of a meltdown was the performance of Swiss actor Bruno Ganz (1941-2019) as Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) in Downfall (2004), a study of the characters in the Führerbunker during the “last days of the Third Reich”.  The performance inspired an entire genre of “Hitler Rant Parodies”, the quality of which is “patchy”.  Hitler’s meltdown came during a military briefing after learning Waffen-SS (Armed SS) Obergruppenführer (general) Felix Steiner (1896–1966) had failed to assemble the forces to launch a relieving attack Hitler had ordered against the Red Army formations besieging Berlin.  That was by then militarily impossible but the unwelcome news induced in Hitler a legendary rant of several minutes during which he ranged against those he thought responsible for his predicament, notably the army’s officer corps and even the previously trusted SS.

The SS (ᛋᛋ in Armanen runes; Schutzstaffel (literally “protection squadron” but translated variously as “protection squad”, “security section" etc) was formed (under different names) in 1923 as a Nazi party squad to provide security at public meetings (then often rowdy and violet affairs) and was later re-purposed as a personal bodyguard for Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945).  The SS name was adopted in 1925 and during the Third Reich the institution evolved into a vast economic, industrial and military apparatus more than two million strong to the point where some historians (and contemporaries) regarded it as a kind of “state within a state”.  The Waffen-SS (armed SS (ie equipped with military-grade weapons)) existed on a small scale as early as 1933 before Hitler’s agreement was secured to create a formation at divisional strength and growth was gradual even after the outbreak of hostilities in 1939 and it was the invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941 which triggered the Waffen-SS’s expansion into a multi-national armoured force with over 900,000 men under arms.  As well as the SS’s role in the administration of the many concentration and extermination camps, the Waffen-SS was widely implicated in war crimes and crimes against humanity.  Towards the end of the meltdown, Hitler, with tears in his eyes, admitted the war was “lost”, something that was by then (or should have been) obvious to all in the bunker.  Although only two of those who witnessed the meltdown survived the war to tell the tale (Generaloberst (Colonel General) Alfred Jodl (1890–1946, chief of the OKW operations staff 1939-1945 and Generalfeldmarschall Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; chief of OKW 1938-1945)), such was the volume it was heard by many in an adjoining room and historians agree Ganz’s performance captured the moment.