Zephyr

Zephyr (pronounced zef-uhr (U) or zef-er (non-U))

(1) A gentle, mild breeze, considered the most pleasant of winds.

(2) By extension, any of various things of fine, light quality (fabric, yarn etc), most often applied to wool.

(3) In the mythology of Antiquity, the usual (Westernised) spelling of Ζεφυρος (Zéphuros or Zéphyros), the Greek and Roman god of the west wind, son of Eos & Astraeus and brother of Boreas; the Roman name was Zephyrus, Favonius.

(4) As a literary device, the west wind personified which should be used with an initial capital letter.

(5) In the mythology of Antiquity, as Zephyrette, a daughter of Aeolus; a tiny female spirit of the wind. 

(6) A model name used on cars of variable distinction produced by the Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo) and sold under the Ford, Mercury & Lincoln brands.

(7) A type of soft confectionery made by whipping fruit and berry purée (mostly apple purée) with sugar and egg whites, to which is added a gelling agent such as pectin, carrageenan, agar, or gelatine.  Often called zefir, the use was a semantic loan from the Russian зефи́р (zefír). 

Circa 1350: From the Middle English zeferus & zephirus, from the Old English zefferus, from the Latin zephyrus, from the Ancient Greek Ζέφυρος (Zéphuros or Zéphyros) (the west wind), probably from the Greek root zophos (the west, the dark region, darkness, gloom).  The Latin Zephyrus was the source also of zéphire (French), zefiro (Spanish) and zeffiro (Italian).  The feminine form zephyrette (capitalised and not) is rare and the alternative spellings were zephir & zefir, the latter (in the context of food) still current.  The casual use in meteorology dates from circa 1600 and the meaning has shifted from the classical (something warm, mild and occidental) to now be any gentle breeze or waft where the wish is to suggest a wind not strong and certainly not a gust, gale, cyclone, blast, typhoon or tempest.  Zephyr is a noun & verb, zephyred is a verb & adjective, zephyring is a verb and zephyrous, zephyrlike & zephyrean are adjectives; the noun plural is zephyrs.  The adverb zephyrously is non-standard.

Cupid and Psyche (1907) by Edvard Munch (1863–1944).

In Greek mythology, Ζεφυρος (transliterated as Zéphuros or Zéphyros) was the god of the west wind, one of the four seasonal Anemoi (wind-gods), the others being his brothers Notus (god of the south wind), Eurus (god of the east wind) and Boreas (god of the east wind).  The Greek myths offer many variations of the life of Zephyrus, the offspring of Astraeus & Eos in some versions and of Gaia in other stories while there were many wives, depending on the story in which he was featured.  Despite that, he’s also sometimes referred to as the “god of the gay”, based on the famous tale of Zephyrus & Hyakinthos (Hyacinthus or Hyacinth).  Hyacinth was a Spartan youth, an alluring prince renowned for his beauty and athleticism and he caught the eye of both of both Zephyrus and Apollo (the god of sun and light) and the two competed fiercely for the boy’s affections.  It was Apollo whose charms proved more attractive which left Zephyrus devastated and in despair.  One day, Zephyrus chanced upon the sight of Apollo and Hyacinth in a meadow, throwing a discus and, blind with anger, sent a great gust of wind at the happy couple, causing the discus to strike Hyacinth forcefully in the head, inflicting a mortal injury.  Stricken with grief, as Hyacinth lay dying in his arms, Apollo transformed the blood trickling to the soil into the hyacinth (larkspur), flower which would forever bloom in memory of his lost, beautiful boy. Enraged, Apollo sought vengeance but Zephyrus was protected by Eros, the god of love, on what seems the rather technical legal point of the intervention of Zephyrus being an act of love.  There was however a price to be paid for this protection, Zephyrus now pledged to serve Eros for eternity and the indebted god of the west wind soon received his first task.  There are other tales of how Cupid and Psyche came to marry but in this one, with uncharacteristic clumsiness, Cupid accidently shot himself with one of his own arrows of love while gazing upon the nymph Psyche and it was Zephyrus who kidnapped her, delivering his abducted prize to Cupid to be his bride.

Chloris and Zephyr (1875) by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905), Musee des Beau-Arts of the Musées Mulhouse Sud Alsace.

Zephyros was in classical art most often depicted as a handsome, winged youth and a large number of surviving Greek vases are painted with unlabeled figures of a winged god embracing a youth and these are usually identified as Zephyros and Hyakinthos although, some historians detecting detail differences list a number of them as being of Eros (the god of Love) with a symbolic youth.  Although sometimes rendered as a winged god clothed in a green robe and crowned with a wreath of flowers, in Greco-Roman mosaics, Zephyros appears usually in the guise of spring personified, carrying a basket of unripened fruit.  In some stories, he is reported to be the husband of Iris, the goddess of the rainbow and Hera’s messenger and in others, Podarge the harpy (also known as Celano) is mentioned as the wife of Zephyrus but in most of the myths he was married to Chloris.  Chloris by most accounts was an Oceanid nymph and in the tradition of Boreas & Orithyia and Cupid and Psyche, Zephyrus made Chloris his wife by abduction, making her the goddess of flowers, for she was the Greek equivalent of Flora and, living with her husband, enjoyed a life of perpetual spring.

Standardized wind: The Beaufort wind force scale

With strategically placed palms, Lindsay Lohan resists a zephyr's efforts to induce a wardrobe malfunction, MTV Movie Awards, Los Angeles, 2008 (left) which may be C&Ced (compared & contrasted) with the stronger breeze (probably 3-4 on the Beaufort Scale) disrupting the modern art installation that is Donald Trump's (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) hair (right).

Beaufort Wind Scale, circa 1865.

The Beaufort wind force scale was devised because the British Admiralty was accumulating much data about prevailing weather conditions at spots around the planet where the Royal Navy sailed and it was noticed there was some variation in way different observers would describe the wind conditions.  In the age of sail, wind strength frequency and direction was critical to commerce and warfare and indeed survival so the navy needed to information to be as accurate an consistent as possible but in the pre-electronic age the data came from human observation, even mechanical devices not usually in use.  What Royal Navy Captain (later Rear Admiral) Sir Francis Beaufort 1774–1857) early in nineteenth century noticed was that a sailor brought up in a blustery place like the Scottish highlands was apt to understate the strength of winds while those from calmer places were more impressed by even a moderate breeze, little more than what a hardy Scots sold salt would call a zephyr.  Accordingly, he developed a scale which was refined until formally adopted by the Admiralty during the 1930s after he’d been appointed Hydrographer of the Navy.  The initial draft reflected the functional purpose, the lowest rating describing the sort of gentle zephyr which was just enough to enable a ship's captain slowly to manoeuvre while the highest was of the gale-force winds which would shred the sails.  As sails gave way to steam, the scale was further refined by referencing the effect of wind upon the sea rather than sails and it was adopted also by those working in shore-based meteorological stations.  In recent years, categories up to 17 have been added to describe the phenomena described variously as hurricanes, typhoons & cyclones.

The National Biscuit Company's Zephyrettes, circa 1915.

In the mythology of Antiquity, Zephyrette was a daughter of Aeolus and a tiny female spirit of the wind.  That the nymph's name was early in the twentieth century appropriated by the National Biscuit Company (1898–1971, Nabisco (1971–1985) & RJR Nabisco (1985–1999) and now a subsidiary of Mondelēz International) to describe a light, crisp cracker, recommended to be used for hors d'oeuvres might outrage feminists studying denotation and connotation in structural linguistics and the more they delve, the greater will be the outrage.  Mostly, the word "zephyr" now is used by novelists and poets because while indicative of the force of a wind, it's not defined and is thus not a formal measure so what's a zephyr in one poem might be something more or less in another.  In other texts, such inconsistencies might be a problem but for the few thousand souls on the planet who still read poetry, it's all part of the charm.

For good & bad: FoMoCo's Zephyrs

Lincoln Zephyr V12, 267 cubic inches (4.4 litre).  It was the last of the American V12s.

In the inter-war era, the finest of the big American cars, the Cadillacs, Lincolns, Packards and Duesenbergs, offered craftsmanship the equal of anything made in Europe and engineering which was often more innovative.  The 1930s however were difficult times and by mid-decade, sales of the big K-Series Lincolns, the KA (385 cubic inch (6.3 litre) V8) and KB (448 cubic inch (6.3 litre) V12) were falling.  Ford responded by designing a smaller, lighter Lincoln range to bridge the gap between the most expensive Ford and the lower-priced K-Series Lincolns, the intention originally to power it with an enlarged version of the familiar Ford V8 but family scion Edsel Ford (1893–1943; president of the Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo), 1919-1943), decided instead to develop a V12, wanting both a point of differentiation and a link to K-Series which had gained for Lincoln a formidable reputation for power and durability.  Develop may however be the wrong word, the new engine really a reconfiguration of the familiar Ford V8, the advantage in that approach being it was cheaper than an entirely new engine, the drawback the compromises and flaws of the existing unit were carries over and in some aspects, due to the larger size and greater internal friction, exaggerated.

Lincoln Zephyr V12, 292 cubic inches (4.8 litre).

The V12 however was not just V8 with four additional pistons, the block cast with a vee-angle of 75^o rather than the eight’s 90^o, a compromise between compactness and the space required for a central intake manifold and the unusual porting arrangement for the exhaust gases.  The ideal configuration for a V12 is 60^o and without staggered throws on the crankshaft, the 75^o angle yielded uneven firing impulses, although, being a relatively slow and low-revving unit, the engine was felt acceptably smooth.  The cylinder banks used the traditional staggered arrangement, permitting the con-rods to ride side-by-side on the crank and retained the Ford V-8’s 3.75 inch (90.7 mm) stroke but used a small bore of just 2.75 inches (69.75 mm), then the smallest of any American car then in production, yielding a displacement of 267 cubic inches (4.4 litres), a lower capacity than many of the straight-eights and V8s then on the market.

1941 Lincoln Zephyr Coupe in Darian Blue.

Because the exhaust system was routed through the block to four ports on each side of the engine, cooling was from the beginning the problem it had been on the Ford V8 but on a larger scale.  Although the cooling system had an apparently impressive six (US) gallon (22.7 litre) capacity, it quickly became clear this could, under certain conditions, be marginal and the radiator grill was soon extended to increase airflow.  Nor was lubrication initially satisfactory, the original oil pump found to be unable to maintain pressure when wear developed on the curfaces of the many bearings; it was replaced with one that could move an additional gallon (3.79 litre) a minute.  Most problems were resolved during the first year of production and the market responded to the cylinder count, competitive price and styling; after struggling to sell not even 4000 of the big KAs in 1935, Lincoln produced nearly 18,000 Zephyrs in 1936, sales growing to over 25,000 the following year.  Production between 1942-1946 would be interrupted by the war but by the time the last was built in 1948, by which time it had been enlarged to 292 cubic inches (4.8 litre (there was in 1946, briefly, a 306 cubic inch (5.0 litre) version) over 200,000 had been made, making it the most successful of the American V12s.  It was an impressive number, more than matching the 161,583 Jaguar built over a quarter of a century (1971-1997) and only Daimler-Benz has made more, their count including both those used in Mercedes-Benz cars and the the DB-60x inverted V12 aero-engines famous for their wartime service with the Luftwaffe and the Mercedes-Benz T80, built for an assault in 1940 on the LSR (Land Speed Record).  Unfortunately, other assaults staged by the Third Reich (1939-1945) meant the run never happened but the T80 is on permanent exhibition in the factory's museum in Stuttgart so viewers can ponder Herr Professor Ferdinand Porsche's (1875–1951) pre-war slide-rule calculations of a speed of 650 km/h (404 mph) (not the 750 km/h (466 mph) sometimes cited).

1939 Lincoln-Zephyr Three Window Coupe (Model Code H-72, 2500 of which were made out of the Zephyr’s 1939 production count of 21,000).  It was listed as a six-seater but the configuration was untypical of the era, the front seat a bench with split backrests, allowing access to the rear where, unusually, there were two sideways-facing stools.  In conjunction with the sloping roofline, it was less than ideal for adults and although the term “3+2” was never used, that’s probably the best description.  The H-72 Three Window Coupe listed at US$1,320, the cheapest of the six variants in the 1939 Zephyr range.

It may sound strange that in a country still recovering from the Great Depression Ford would introduce a V12 but the famous “Flathead” Ford V8 was released in 1932 when economic conditions were at their worst; people still bought cars.  The V12 was also different in that although a configuration today thought of as exotic or restricted to “top of the line” models, for Lincoln the Zephyr was a lower-priced, mid-size luxury car to bridge a gap in the corporate line-up.  Nor was the V12 a “cost no object” project, the design using the Flathead’s principle elements and while inaccurate at the engineering level to suggest it was the “Ford V8 with four cylinders added” the concept was exactly that and if the schematics are placed side-by-side, the familial relationship is obvious.  Introduced in November 1935 (as a 1936 model), the styling of the Lincoln Zephyr attracted more favourable comment than Chrysler’s Airflows (1934-1937), an earlier venture into advanced aerodynamics (then known as “streamlining”) and the name had been chosen to emphasize the wind-cheating qualities of the modernist look.  With a raked windscreen and integrated fenders, it certainly looked slippery and tests in modern wind tunnels have confirmed it indeed had a lower CD (drag coefficient) than the Airflows which looked something like unfinished prototypes; the public never warmed to the Airflows, however accomplished the engineering was acknowledged to be.  By contrast, the Zephyrs managed to cloak the functional efficiency in sleek lines with pleasing art deco touches; subsequently, New York’s MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) acknowledged it as “the first successfully streamlined car in America”.  So much did the style and small V12 capture the headlines it was hardly remarked upon that with a unitary body, the Zephyr was the first Ford-made passenger vehicle with an all-steel roof, the method of construction delivering the required strength at a lighter weight, something which enabled the use of an engine of relatively modest displacement.

The American Home Front 1941-1942 (2006) by Alistair Cooke (1908-2004),  The cover illustration was of him filling up the Zephyr's V12, Pasadena, California, 1942.

In 1942, just after the US had entered the war (thereby legitimizing the term “World War II” (1939-1945)) the expatriate (the apocope “expat” not in general use until the 1950s when Graham Greene's (1904-1991) novel The Quiet American (1955) appears to have given it a boost) UK-born US journalist Alistair Cooke began a trip taking from Washington DC and back, via Virginia, Florida, Texas, California, Washington state and 26 other states, purchasing for the project a 1936 Lincoln Zephyr V12, his other vital accessories five re-tread tyres (with the Japanese occupation of Malaya, rubber was in short supply and tyres hard to find), a gas (petrol) ration coupon book and credentials from his employer, the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation).  It was a journalist’s project to “discover” how the onset of war had changed the lives of non-combatant Americans “on the home front” and his observations would provide him a resource for reporting for years to come.  Taking photographs on his travels, he’d always planned to use the material for a book but, as a working journalist during the biggest event in history, it was always something done “on the side” and by the time he’d completed a final draft it was 1945 and with the war nearly over, he abandoned the project, assuming the moment for publication had passed.  It wasn’t until two years after his death that The American Home Front 1941-1942 (2006) was released, the boxed manuscript having been unearthed in the back of a closet, under a pile of his old papers.

Cooke had a journalist’s eye and the text was interesting as a collection of unedited observations of the nation’s culture, written in the language of the time.  In the introduction Cooke stated: “I wanted to see what the war had done to the people, to the towns I might go through, to some jobs and crops, to stretches of landscape I loved and had seen at peace; and to let the significance fall where it might.”  During his journey, he interviewed many of the “ordinary Americans” then traditionally neglected by history (except when dealt with en masse), not avoiding contentious issues such as anti-Semitism and racism but also painted word-pictures of the country through which he was passing, never neglecting to describe the natural environment, most of it unfamiliar to an Englishman who’d spent most of his time in the US in cities on the east and west coasts.  As a footnote, although the Zephyr’s V12 engine has always been notorious for the deficiencies in its cooling system, at no time during the journey did Cooke note the car overheating so either the radiator and plumbing did the job or he thought the occasional boil-over so unremarkable he made no remark. 

1969 Ford (UK) Zephyr Zodiac Mark IV.

Lincoln ceased to use the Zephyr name after 1942, subsequent V12 cars advertised simply as Lincolns, distinguished in name only by the coachwork.  The Zephyr badge was in 1950 revived by Ford of England for their line of mainstream family cars, augmented after 1953 by an up-market version called the Zodiac, noted for its bling.  The first three generations (1950-1966) were well-regarded (the Mark III (1962-1966) in most ways a superior car to the contemporary US Ford Falcon) and enjoyed success in both the home and export markets but the Mark IV (1966-1972), despite a tantalizingly advanced specification and offering a lot of interior space and external metal for the money, proved so ghastly the name was retired when the range was replaced with something (the Mark 1 Granada (1972-1977)) which was on paper less ambitious but was, on the road, much superior.  Not having suffered the tainted Mark IV Zephyrs, Ford felt it safe to recycle the Zephyr name in the US, firstly on the bland Mercury clone (1978-1983) of the (US) Ford Fairmont and finally, for two seasons (2005-2006), on an undistinguished Lincoln which with some haste was re-branded "MKZ".  On either side of the Atlantic, there have been no Zephyrs since and it does seem strange that the "Zodiac" name has never been re-used because it offers at least twelve thematic possibilities for sub-models or "special editions".

 

1962 Ford Galaxie 500/XL Sunliner Convertible 390 (left), 1967 Ford Zodiac Executive (centre) and 1974 Leyland P76 V8 Executive (right). 

The Mark IV Zodiac's wheel covers (the design concept known as "starburst") had first been seen in the US on the 1962 Ford Galaxie and for Detroit's colonial outposts the use of components, years after they'd been discontinued in the US, was common.  In Australia, for the Fairlane and LTD, Ford at various times used the wheel covers introduced on the 1969 & 1970 Thunderbird (replacing the former with something flatter after owners reported vulnerability to damage from curbsides so either Australians were less competent at parking or the guttering designs used by cities was different) and some were still being fitted as late as 1982.  At least that was within the corporate family.  in 1973, Leyland Australia clearly so liked what ended up on the Zodiac they pinched the idea for the ill-fated P76 (1973-1976).  God punishes those who violate his seventh commandment but in fairness to Leyland (even in retrospect they need all the help they can get), the "starburst" motif had long been popular for wheelcovers, hubcaps (there is a difference) and aluminum wheels.

Starburst sea anemone (left), Kelsey-Hayes cast aluminum wheel for 1967 C2 Chevrolet Corvette (centre), the five-stud (option code N89) version unique to the 1967 range, replacing the knock off version (option code P48, 1963-1966) which had to be retired when US regulators passed rules restricting the use of the centre-lock, knock-off hubs.  To conceal the five studs, there was a "centre cap" (ie a hubcap in the classic sense) in the style of the wheel and these colloquially are known as "starbursts" (right).  The Corvette's wheels were manufactured by Western Wheel Corporation (a division of Kelsey-Hayes).

Ferrari 275 GTB with Campagnolo magnesium-alloy “starburst” wheels: Series I (short-nose) & Series II (long-nose).

While there have been many “starburst” wheels, among the most admired were the 14×6.5″ Campagnolo magnesium-alloy items (part number 40366) fitted as standard equipment on the “short nose” Ferrari 275 GTBs.  All these starbursts used splined centre-lock (the so-called “knock-off”) hubs although each also has eight bolts, used to attach the chrome “dress rings”.  Fitting the Campagnolo wheels as standard equipment was a harbinger of what was to come for within a decade the traditional wire wheels would be extinct on Ferraris (and just about everything else) although the lovely spoked remained available as a factory option, Pirelli 205VR14 Cinturato CN72 tyres fitted regardless of which was chosen.  It was close to the end of an era and the twelve 275 GTB/Cs (Gran Turismo Berlinetta / Competizione) were the last Ferraris built for racing to use the classic Borrani wire wheels.  Such had been the advances in tyre technology that by 1966 the grip generated transferred stresses so acute that in extreme conditions the spokes could break, a tendency exacerbated by the wheels’ additional width (7 inch front 7½ rear); there were accidents.  Accordingly, the two 275 GTB/Cs built as road cars were factory-fitted with aluminum-alloy wheels although the Borranis continued to be made available for the later and much heavier 365 GTB/4 (Daytona, 1968-1973) and 365 GTC/4 (1971-1972), the factory cautioning they were suitable only for road use.  As well as the 20-odd competition 275 GTBs (in three distinct series), the factory produced 442 as road cars: 236 Series I (short-nose) & 206 Series II (long-nose).

1967 Ferrari 275 GTB/4 with the later 15×7″ Campagnolo "10" magnesium-alloy wheels (part number 40384, Left) and 1967 Ferrari 275 GTB/4 N.A.R.T. Spider with 72 spoke 15×7″ Borrani wire wheels (part number RW 4039, right).

All powered by the (Colombo) 3.3 litre (201 cubic inch) V12, the 275 GTB and its derivatives were in production between 1964-1968 in an array of configurations including single (SOHC) and double overhead camshaft (DOHC) versions with three or six carburettors, bodies in steel or lightweight aluminium and there was even a run of roadsters (somewhat imposed on the factory by the US NART (North American Racing Team) operation) which, confusingly, were named 275 GTB/4 NART Spiders and used different coachwork to the regular production 275 GTS spiders.  The term “short nose” was applied retrospectively after 1966 when Series II 275 GTB was introduced.  Although including many cosmetic and mechanical changes, the most obvious difference was the noticeably lower and longer nose section, something done to improve aerodynamic efficiency and improve high-speed stability, a quality which had proved dubious on the Series I.  It was a time when aerodynamics was beginning to be taken seriously by Ferrari (even wind-tunnels were used) and the factory already had some experience in automotive rhinoplasty (the procedure better known as a “nose job”).

Ferrari 250 LM in "long nose" (left) and "short nose" (right) forms.  When the 250 LM won the 1965 Le Mans 24 Hour endurance classic, it was the last car to win fitted with wire wheels.

Again in the quest for aerodynamic advantage and high-speed stability, Ferrari’s first mid-engined sports car, the 250 LM (1963-1965), benefited from a nose job, the revised bodywork fashioned by coachbuilder Piero Drogo (1926–1973) who had formed the Modena-based Carrozzeria Sports Cars to service the ecosystem of sports cars that congregated in the region.  There was an urban myth the Drogo nose was created so an “FIA standard size suitcase” could be carried (to convince the regulatory body it was a car for road and track rather than a pure racing machine) but it was really was purely for aerodynamic advantage.  Although even then the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the FIA; the International Automobile Federation) was beginning to gain its reputation as world sport's dopiest regulatory body, while it did insist sports cars carry a spare tyre, they never defined “luggage” or insisted a trunk (boot) or frunk be of an adequate size to accommodate some.  The nose job idea however caught on and in Detroit it would later be taken to extremes.  The modifications Ford in 1969 applied to their Torino Talladega (and the companion Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II) were modest (perceptible to most only if parked beside a standard version of each model) though remarkably effective but the era of what became known as the “aero cars” is most associated with the 1969 Dodge Daytona and 1970 Plymouth Superbird, each with a different implementation of a (very) high rear wing and (very) extended nosecone, the product of research by Chrysler’s recently shuttered missile division, the engineers available because the era of détente was dawning and with agreements looming to limit the arsenals of strategic weapons maintained by US and Soviet Union, they had been designated SNLR (services no longer required).  Geopolitics being what was (and remains), that would change.

The ultimate nose job: 1969 Dodge Daytona (left), based on the 1969 Dodge Charger 500 (right).

As a noun & verb, “starburst” widely has been used in slang and commerce but its origin is owed to astronomers of the 1830s and in the field it’s been used variously to describe (1) a violent explosion, or the pattern (likened to the shape of a star) supposed to be made by such an explosion and (2) a region of space or period of time (distinct concepts for this purpose) with an untypically or unexpectedly high rate of star formation.  In SF (science fiction), starbursts can be more exotic still and have described machines from light-speed propulsion engines to truly horrid doomsday weapons.  In typography, a starburst is a symbol similar in shape to an asterisk, but with either or both additional or extended rays and it’s used for a brand of fruit-flavored confectionery, the name implying the taste “explodes” in the mouth as one chews or sucks.  In corporate use, starburst is slang for the breaking up of a company (or unit of a company) into a number of distinct operations and in software it was in the early 1980s used as the brand name of an application suite (based around the Wordstar word-processor) which was (along with Electric Office) one of the first “office suites”, the model Microsoft would later adopt for its “Office” product which bundled, Word, Excel, the dreaded PowerPoint and such.  It was the name of a British made-portable surface-to-air missile (MANPADS) produced in the late twentieth century, in botany it’s a tropical flowering plant (Clerodendrum quadriloculare), the term applied also to a species of sea anemone in the family Actiniidae and, in human anatomy, certain cell types (based on their appearance).  In photography, the “starburst effect” refers to the diffraction spikes which radiate from sources of bright light.

 

2006 Lincoln Zephyr.

 

Available only in 2005-2006 before it was “refreshed” and renamed MKZ (2007-2012), the Lincoln Zephyr picked up its styling cues from a concept car displayed at the 2004 New York International Auto Show although with the lines tempered for production-line reality.  In a sign of the times, it replaced the rear wheel drive (RWD), V6 & V8 powered LS sedan (2000-2006, with one model sharing showrooms with the Zephyr for its final year) which had been well-reviewed in press reports but never succeeded as a challenger to the BMW 5-Series and Mercedes-Benz E-Class.  The twenty-first century Zephyr wasn’t a “bad” car in the sense the word is attached to the English Mark IV Zephyr & Zodiac but it was bland and built on the Mazda CD3 front wheel drive (FWD) platform which provided the underpinnings for also the Mazda 6, Ford Fusion and Mercury Milan; despite Lincoln’s efforts, had it not had the badges, most would have assumed the Zephyr was a fancy Ford or a Mercury, so closely did it resemble both.  Struggling to find some point of differentiation, journalists always mentioned the wood trim in the interior was “real timber”, quoting with approval from the document in the press-pack: “Ebony or maple wood inserts”.  Even that wasn't enough to persuade many it was worth some US$30,000, a US$6000-odd premium over the substantially similar Mercury Milan Premier V6.  It did though undercut by US$4000 what a basic V6 LS has cost the year before so the price of entry to Lincoln ownership became less but that also brought the usual marketing conundrum: “Lowering the price increases sales but tarnishes the perception of the brand as a prestige product”.

1980 Mercury Zephyr Station Wagon.

There was also the name.  The original Lincoln Zephyr had existed only between 1935-1942 and, except a as niche among collectors, had long ago faded from public consciousness, the same phenomenon which made the choice of “Maybach” by Mercedes-Benz so curious; Toyota’s decision to create “Lexus” was a much better idea and perhaps an indication Japanese MBAs were better informed than German MBAs.  For 2007 the Zephyr was renamed MKX and even that “naming strategy” (now an MBA fixation) may not within the corporation been well-communicated because initial suggestions for pronunciation included “Mark 10” & “Mark X”, picking up on the (actually quite muddled) history of Lincoln's “Mark” cars which, off & on, existed between 1956-1998 (although the label was in 2006-2007 revived for a pick-up truck(!)).  Neither caught on and before long, like everyone else, company executives were saying “em-kay-zee”.  The “Mark” moniker would have been tempting because, as the “Zephyr affair” demonstrated, despite a history stretching back to 1917, the only Lincoln brand names with any traction in the public imagination are “Continental” and “Mark something”.  When MKZ production ended in 2012, the demise wasn’t so much unlamented as unnoticed.

1969 Continental Mark III by Lincoln: it might have been called "Zephyr".

So after 2006 Ford nowhere in the world made anything called a Zephyr but the name was on the list considered for what became the Continental Mark III (1969-1971), conceived originally (and accurately) as “a Thunderbird with a Rolls-Royce grill”).  The Mark III was most pleasing for Ford because it was concocted more with gorp (the term “bling” not then current) than engineering effort and, made using commerce’s most prized formula (low cost of production; high price) it was a most profitable line.  In the mid-1960s while the planning was underway, the other names considered included (1) Zermatt (a ski resort town in the Swiss Alps where combustion-engine cars are now banned), (2) Exeter (a popular locality name on both sides of the Atlantic), (3) Allegro (used in 1963 & 1967 for Ford concept cars and the unfortunate Austin Allegro (1973-1982) was years away the name was not yet tainted) and (4) Lancelot (one of the Knights of the Round Table in Arthurian legend and the secret lover Guinevere, wife of his friend, King Arthur).

Badminton

Badminton (pronounced bad-min-tn)

(1) A racquet sport played on a rectangular (at competitive level, always indoor) two players or two pairs of players equipped with light rackets used to volley a shuttlecock over the high net dividing the court in half.

(2) A drink made with a mix of claret, soda water and sugar (also as badminton cup).

(3) A small village and civil parish in the south-west English county of Gloucestershire (initial upper case).

(4) A community in the Glyncoed area, Blaenau Gwent county borough, Wales, UK.

(4) Among the young of Hong Kong, a euphemism for sexual congress.

1873-1874: The game was named after Badminton House, the country seat of the dukes of Beaufort in Gloucestershire (now associated with the annual Badminton horse trials).  The derived terms include badminton court, badminton racquet and badminton ball.  The locality name was from the Old English Badimyncgtun (estate of (a man called) Baduhelm), which deconstructs as the personal name Bad (possibly also found in the Frankish Badon) + helm (from the Old English helma (helm, tiller)+ -ing (from the Middle English -ing, from the Old English –ing & -ung (in the sense of the modern -ing, as a suffix forming nouns from verbs), from the Proto-West Germanic –ingu & -ungu, from the Proto-Germanic –ingō & -ungō. It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian -enge, the West Frisian –ing, the Dutch –ing, The Low German –ing & -ink, the German –ung, the Swedish -ing and the Icelandic –ing; All the cognate forms were used for the same purpose as the English -ing)).+ -tun (used here to refer to “a place”).  Among players in England, the sport is sometimes referred to with the slang “badders”.  Badminton & badmintonist are nouns; the noun plural is plural badmintons.

Badminton racquets (racket in US use) use the same design as tennis racquets but are of lighter construction and not as tightly strung.

Games using shuttlecocks (the designs having variations but all using deliberately “anti-aerodynamic” properties to dissipate the energy carried in flight) are known to have been played for at least centuries across Eurasia, the attractions including the game not putting a premium on physicality (women at comparatively little disadvantage because the effect of fluid dynamics on the shuttlecock negated much of the power of inherently stronger men) and there being no need for a truly flat, prepared surface.  The recognizably modern game of badminton evolved in the early-mid nineteenth century and was something of a cult under the Raj, played by expatriate British officers of the Indian Army, both the polo crown and those unable to afford the upkeep of ponies.  It was a variant of the earlier games “shuttlecock” and “battledore” (battledore an older term for “racquet”).  The history of the sport’s early days is murky and it’s not clear if the first games in England really were played at Badminton House, the Duke of Beaufort’s country estate in 1873-1874 but it seems it was from then the game spread.  The apparently inexplicable “badminton ball” (the game played with a shuttlecock) is accounted for by the fame once being played using a soft, woolen ball and called “ball badminton”.

Among the first players at Badminton House were soldiers returning from their service under the Raj and just as they took English habits and practices to India (for good and bad), upon returning they brought much from the Orient, including their sport.  Under the Raj, it had been played outdoors and when it was wet or windy, the woollen ball was often used but the principle was essentially the same as the modern game except nets weren’t always used and there was sometimes no concept of a defined “court”, the parameters established by the players’ reach and capacity to return the shot from wherever the ball or shuttlecock was placed; what was constant was that if the shot hit the opponent’s ground, the point was won.

Standard dimensions of shuttlecocks used in officially sanctioned competitions.

Under the Raj, the game was known also as Poona or Poonah, named after the garrison town of Poona (named thus in 1857 and changed to Pune in 1978 as part of the process which restored the historic names of Chenni (Madras until 1996), Mumbai (Bombay until 1996) etc).  It was in Poona where some of the most devoted players were stationed and there were several layers of competition taken as seriously as polo tournaments; when these offers returned to England, badminton clubs were soon established (mostly in the south).  The so called “Pune Rules” (of which there were variations reflecting the regimental origins of the clubs) were maintained until 1887 when the recently confederated Badminton Association of England (BAE) codified a standard set which differ little from those of the modern game.  The All England Open Badminton Championships for gentlemen's doubles, ladies' doubles, and mixed doubles were first played in 1899 while singles competitions debuted in 1900 and an England–Ireland championship match was held in 1904.  It first appeared in the Olympic Games as an “exhibition sport” at Munich (1972) and has been in the regular programme since Seoul (1988), the medal table dominated overwhelmingly by the PRC (People’s Republic of China); only players from the PRC and Indonesia have every won Olympic gold.

Like many aspects of the English language, euphemisms evolve or appear under all sorts of influences.  Some come from popular culture (wardrobe malfunction) and some are an attempt deliberately to deceive (misspoke) while others are a “curated creation” although not all succeed; Gretchen in Mean Girls (2004) never quite managed to make “fetch” happen.  Sometime, they can appear as that bugbear of governments: the “unintended consequence”.  In August 2024, the Hong Kong Education Bureau published a 70-page sex education document which, inter-alia, advised teen-aged Hong Kongers to delay romantic relationships and “set limits on intimacy with the opposite gender” (intra-gender intimacy wasn’t mentioned, presumably not because it’s regarded as desirable but because the bureau though it unmentionable).  Helpfully, the document included worksheets (with tick-boxes) for adolescents and guidance for the teachers helping to educate them on coping with sexual fantasies and the consequences of “acting on impulses”.  Easily the most imaginative tactic the bureau advocated as part of its “abstinence strategy” was that young folk should repress their teen-age sexual urges with “a game of badminton”, a suggestion which drew criticism from experts and lawmakers and derision from the public.  Nobody suggested playing badminton was a bad idea but the consensus was that advocating it as an alternative behaviour for two horny teen-agers was “overly simplistic and unrealistic”, the most common critique being the bureau was “out of touch”, a phrase not infrequently directed towards the Hong Kong government generally.

Some also questioned whether a 70 page booklet was the ideal information delivery platform for the TLDR (too long, didn’t read) generation, brought up on TikTok’s short, digestible chunks.  Still, there was certainly much information and helpful tips including a compulsory form for couples in a “love relationship” which contained a list of the parameters they could use to “set limits to their intimacy” and informed them these matters involved four key subjects: (1) the relationship between love and sex, (2) the importance of boundaries, (3) how to cope with sexual fantasies and impulses and (4) the horrible consequences and were one to act upon these impulses.  The conclusion was strong” “Lovers who are unable to cope with the consequences of premarital sex, such as unwed marital pregnancy, legal consequences and emotional distress, should firmly refuse to have sex before marriage.”  Sex can of course be transactional and even contractual and in that spirit students were urged to “fill in and sign a commitment form to set limits on intimacy” and to help with what young folk could find a difficult clause to draft, the bureau suggested: “It is normal for people to have sexual fantasies and desires, but we must recognise that we are the masters of our desires and should think twice before acting, and control our desires instead of being controlled by them.”  Signing that would presumably “kill the moment” and the bureau assured its readers this would control their sexual impulses in certain ways so they could promise to develop “self-discipline, self-control, and resistance to pornography”.

Nor were external influences neglected, the bureau counselling adolescents that a way to suppress their “natural sexual impulses” was to avoid media and publications which “that might arouse them”, recommending instead they “exercise and indulge in distractions” which will help divert their attention away from “undesirable activities”.  As everyone knows, badminton is both good exercise and a desirable activity.  Not only the sometimes decadent media was seen as a threat; there was also the matter of one’s peers and one scenario the bureau described was coming upon “a young couple in a park” exchanging caresses, the correct reaction to which was to avoid temptation by “leaving the scene immediately” or instead “enjoying the sight of flowers and trees in the park”.  Of greater relevance perhaps was the way to handle the situation were a young man to find himself alone with his girlfriend while “studying at home”: “Leave the scene immediately; go out to play badminton together in a sports hall.”  There was also sartorial advice for your scholars, the students to dress appropriately and avoid wearing “sexy clothing” that could lead to “visual stimulation.”  Any ayatollah would agree with that, wondering only why it took the Hong Kong government so long to point it out.  Whether the new guidelines will be result in behavioral changes remains to be seen but the document certainly stimulated responses from the meme-makers, one claiming the advocacy for badminton as a contraceptive proved just how out of touch was the Hong Kong government because it “obviously hasn’t caught up with the popularity of pickleball.”  However, the most obvious cultural contribution was linguistic, phrases like: “want to try out my badminton racquet?” and “let’s play badminton” suggested as the latest euphemism for acts of illicit sex.

“Fetch” never quite happened: Regina George (Rachel McAdams (b 1978)) shuts down Gretchen Wieners (Lacey Chabert (b 1982)), Mean Girls (2004).  Thanks to the government of Hong Kong, “Badminton” may yet happen.

In fairness to the Hong Kong government, it’s not unique in its ineptitude in talking to the young about sex.  Their messaging was however at least clear and unambiguous unlike that in the Australian government’s infamous “milkshake” advertising campaign in 2021.  That was about the matter of “consent to have sex”, a matter of some significance given the frequency of it being the central contested issue in many rape cases so it was an important thing to discuss but unfortunately, all that was agreed was it was embarrassingly dumbed-down and a puerile attempt at humor.  Within days the milkshake video was withdrawn from the Aus$3.7 million campaign.  About the same time the mystifying milkshake video was making children laugh, Mick Fuller (b 1968; commissioner of the New South Wales (NSW) Police Force 2017-2022) proved one didn’t have to be a boomer to be out of touch with the early twenty-first century.  Mr Fuller, noting no doubt the fondness the young folk showed towards their smartphones, suggested an app would be answer, as it seems to be to just about every other problem (“there’s an app for that”).  Deconstructed, that would seem to require both parties logging into the app (hopefully having it already installed) and in some way authorizing sexual activity with the other.  For security reasons, 2FA (two-factor authentication) would obviously be a necessity so it would be doable, only delaying rather than killing the moment.  Still, it didn’t sound like something which would soar to the top of App Store charts and while Mr Fuller argued such a tool could be used “to keep matters out of the justice system”, he did concede it might be a “ “terrible” suggestion and “the worst idea I have all year.”.

The Badminton Cup cocktail

Ingredients

Strips of peel from a ½ cucumber
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons of superfine sugar
Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
One 750-ml bottle dry red wine (ideally a Bordeaux (Claret))
16 ounces chilled soda water
Ice, preferably 1 large block

Instructions

(1) In a small punch bowl, combine the cucumber peel, sugar and nutmeg.
(2) Add wine, stirring until the sugar dissolves.
(3) Refrigerate until chilled (will typically take some two hours).
(4) Stir in the soda water, add ice and serve.

The Badminton Beltie Cocktail

The Badminton cup is a classic summer cocktail designed to refresh on a hot day.  However, English summers, though now noticeably hotter than in decades past, can be unpredictable and there will be cold days.  In such weather, the Badminton beltie is a better choice than a badminton cup, the sour fruitiness of the raspberry whisky said to combine with the sweet smoothness of the spiced rum to create a “belter of a drink”.  It was created during the unseasonably cold and wet week of the 2023 Badminton Horse Trials.

Ingredients

2 measures spiced rum liqueur (20%)
2 measures raspberry whisky liqueur (18%)
Crushed Ice

Instructions

(1) Half fill a rocks or tumbler glass with crushed ice
(2) Add measures of spiced rum liqueur & raspberry whisky liqueur.
(3) Gently muddle the mix.
(4) Garnish with two slices of fresh lime.

Bonk

Bonk (pronounced bongk)

(1) A bump on the head (usually not severe).

(2) To hit, strike, collide etc; any minor collision or blow.

(3) In slang, a brief intimacy between two people, usually with a suggestion of infidelity; often modified with the adjective quick and only ever used where the act is consensual (less common in North America).

(4) In sports medicine, a condition of sudden, severe fatigue in an endurance sports event, typically induced by glycogen depletion (also in the phrase “hit the wall”).

(5) In snowboarding, to hit something with the front of the board, especially in midair.

(6) In zoology, an animal call resembling "bonk" (such as the call of the pobblebonk (any of various Australian frogs of the genus Limnodynastes)).

1931: A creation of Modern English, the origin remains uncertain but most suspect it was likely imitative of sounds of impact (like bong, bump, bounce or bang) and thus onomatopoetic.  As a slang term for an affaire de coeur, use was first noted in 1975 and has always, depending on context, carried an implication of something illicit or quickly done; purely recreational though always consensual.  The use in sports medicine describing the condition of glycogen depletion references a metaphorical impact as in “hitting the wall”, the first known use in 1952 in endurance sports medicine.  Bonkee, as a descriptor for a "woman of loose virtue", appears to have been a 2014 creation which never caught on which is a shame because there are all sorts of cases where the companion terms "bonker" & "bonkee" might have been handy .  The form "bonkers", referring to the deranged, dated from circa 1957 and was apparently unrelated to the earlier naval slang for “drunk” but alluded rather to what could be the the consequence of a “bonk on the head”.  The third-person singular simple present is bonks, the present participle, bonking and the simple past and past participle, bonked.  Bonk & bonking are nouns & verbs, bonker is a noun, bonky is an adjective, bonked is a verb and bonkers is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is bonks.

Bonkers: "Last Call" 2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon 170 in "plum crazy" (one of the retro colors which reprised those used by Chrysler in the "psychedelic era" of the late 1960s).  Some 3300 were produced (one of the many batches in Dodges "Last Call" programme), many of which soon were advertised for sale at well above the MRRP (manufacturer's retail price) and many are believed to have been placed in long-term storage.  The yellow plastic fittings were installed to prevent damage during shipping to dealers.  The factory didn't envisage them becoming consumer items so they were described, prosaically, as “splitter guards” but leaving them attached after purchase became a cult and some cars were even retro-fitted, despite dealers cautioning the pieces weren't specifically molded to ensure a perfect fit so dirt and moisture were prone to being trapped in the gaps and this could scuff the paint.  They were referred to also as “damage guards” and “scuff guards” but the more imaginative dubbed them “underwires” and this is believed the first time that term entered the large lexicon of automotive slang.

The Demon 170 was released as part of Dodge’s “Last Call” programme which marked the end of the corporation's run of high-performance V8s for passenger cars, a tradition dating from 1950 when the first 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) "Firepower" (soon to be fetishized as "Hemi") V8 debuted.  Offered in a bewildering array of configurations in a process which was something like Nellie Melba's (1861-1931) "farewell" tours, the SRT Demon 170 was reckoned the most bonkers of a generally bonkers lot.  Rated at 1,025 hp (764 kW), the factory claimed it could accelerate from 0-60 mph (100 km/h) in 1.66 seconds with an elapsed time in the standing ¼ mile (402 metres for those who insist) of 8.91 seconds (terminal speed 151 mph (243 km/h)), setting the mark as the worlds quickest ever standard production car, a reasonable achievement for something weighing 4275 lbs (1939 kg).  By world standards it was also very cheap and on the basis of cost-breakdown vs performance, there was nothing like it on the planet.  In British (and other English-speaking regions although rare in the US) use, "bonkers" can and often is used in an entirely non-pejorative way to suggest something or someone verging on the irrational but in some way astonishing, admirable or inspiring.  Road cars with 600+ horsepower V8 & V12 engines are of course bonkers but we'll miss them when they're gone and it would seem the end is nigh.  Greta Thunberg (b 2003) has expressed no regret at the looming extinction of this species.  

Bonking Boris

Hand-turned fish bonkers on sale in Jaffray, a village in the south-western Canadian province of British Columbia (left) and the front page of The Sun (7 September 2018; right), a tabloid which rarely avoids an alluringly attractive alliterative alternative.  

The noun bonker describes (1) a short, blunt hardwood club used by fisherpersons efficiently to dispatch (ie bonking them dead) just-caught fish or (2) according to the Murdoch tabloid The Sun, the adulterous Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022).  A bonk by Boris or the club and a not wholly dissimilar outcome ensues; a one-time employer called bonking Boris "ineffably duplicitous" and the estranged (now former) Mrs Johnson presumably agreed.  At the time, the former prime minister had "a bit of previous" in extra-marital bonking and when this one was announced, it was with an alliterative flourish not seen since the headline “BORIS BACKS BREXIT”.  His resignation from Theresa May's (Lady May, b 1956; UK prime-minister 2016-2019) government was unrelated to bonking (as far as is known) and came, in July 2018, three days after a cabinet meeting at Chequers (the prime-minister's country house), where agreement was reached on Mrs May’s Brexit strategy, a document compromised by the need to make a nonsensical impossibility look like good policy.  That can be done but it requires rare skill to be in 10 Downing Street and it's been some time since that could be said. 

Freed by his resignation from the burdens of the Foreign Office, bonking Boris was clearly unconcerned at rumors his opponents in the party were assembling a dossier of some 4,000 words detailing his cheating ways, fondness for cocaine & failings of character and turned his attention to a campaign for the Tory leadership.  As wonderfully unpredictable as the politics of the time were fluid, nobody was quite sure whether he’d go into the inevitable election or second referendum as "leave" or "remain"; it would depend on this and that.  In the end, he remained a leaver and things worked out well, his election victory meaning that for one, brief, shining moment, the three world leaders with the best hair all had their own nuclear weapons at the same time.

Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025; left), Boris Johnson (centre) and Kim Jong-un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (Democratic Republic of Korea (North Korea)) since 2011; right).

Some hairstyles are more amenable than others to a quick post-bonk fix.  Kim Jong-un's cut is probably quite good and would bounce back from a bonk with little more than a run-through with the fingers although he may have in his entourage an army general as "designated carrier of the comb".  Donald Trump however would likely need both tools and product for a post-bonk fix, ideally performed by an expert hairdresser.  Mr Trump usually appears well-fixed unless disturbed by breezes higher than 2 on the Beaufort scale and all but the most perfunctory bonks probably are equal to at least 4 on the scale so it would have been interesting to see if Stormy Daniels (Stephanie Gregory, b 1979) lived up to her (stage) name although Mr Trump has denied that bonk ever happened.  Ms Daniels' testimony did include a mention of giving him a bonk on the butt with a rolled-up magazine (one with his picture on the cover!) and that at least had a ring of truth.  Mr Johnson's hair so often looks post-bonk that either his conquests are more frequent even than has been rumored or he orders a JBF with every cut.  One UK publication suggested exactly that, hinting his instruction was "not one hair in place".  That has the advantage for Mr Johnson in that it's a style essentially the same pre-bonk, mid-bonk and post-bonk and thus pricelessly ambiguous in that merely by looking at him, one couldn't tell if he was going to or coming from a bonk although, one assumes, whichever it was, a bonk would never be far from his mind.  Whatever the criticisms of Mr Johnson's premiership (and there were a few), it's to his eternal credit that in his resignation honours list Ms Kelly Jo Dodge (for 27 years the parliamentary hairdresser) was created a Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (MBE) for “parliamentary service”.  Over those decades, she can have faced few challenges more onerous than Mr Johnson’s hair yet never once failed to make it an extraordinary example in the (actually technically difficult) “not one hair in place” style known colloquially in her profession as the JBF.  Few honours have been so well deserved and more illustrious decorations have been pinned on many who have done less for the nation.

In being granted a gong Ms Dodge fared better than another parliamentary hairdresser.  Between 1950-1956, the speaker of the Australian House of Representatives (the lower house) was Archie Cameron (1895–1956) and in some aspects his ways seemed almost un-Australian: he didn’t drink, smoke, swear or gamble.  Not approving of anything to do with the turf, he ordered the removal from the wall of the Parliament House barber’s salon a print of racehorse Phar Lap (1926–1932, the thoroughbred which won the 1930 Melbourne Cup) and later served notice on the barber to quit the building, Cameron suspecting (on hard & fast grounds) he was a SP (starting price) bookie.  Before state-run T.A.B.s (Totalisator Agency Board) were in the 1960s established to regulate such activities, SP bookies were a popular (and convenient) way to undertake off course betting and, like Phar Lap, they were born in New Zealand, the first operating there in 1949.

While in some ways not stereotypically Australian, other parts of his character made Cameron a quintessential of the type.  Once, when displeased by one member’s conduct on the floor of the house, he demanded he bow to the chair and apologize.  Not satisfied with the response, he told the transgressor he needed to bow lower and when asked how low was required, replied: “How low can you go?”  As speaker he exercised great power over what went on in the building and insisted on dress standards being maintained although he didn’t adhere to his own rules, on hot days often wandering the corridors in shorts and a singlet; the parliamentary cleaning staff were said to resent the habit, fearing that visitors might mistake him for a cleaner and “damage their prestige”.

Official portrait of Speaker Cameron in the traditional horsehair wig and robes of office.  The wig was the one Dr HV Evatt (1894–1965; leader of opposition 1951-1960) had worn while a judge (1930-1940) of the High Court of Australia (HCA) and Cameron wasn’t best pleased about that but it had been presented to the parliament and no other was available so Cameron “contented himself by reflecting that ‘it was time some straight thinking was done under this wig’.”

Upon election in 1949, the prime-minister (Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; prime-minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) apparently shuddered at the thought of a “loose cannon” like Cameron in cabinet or on the backbench so appointed him speaker, despite being warned by the respected Frank Clifton Green (1890–1974; clerk of the House of Representatives (Australia) 1937-1955) that Cameron’s habit of being “…so consistently wrong with such complete conviction that he was right” made him “the worst possible choice” for the role.”  On hearing of his nomination, old Ben Chifley (1885–1951; prime minister of Australia 1945-1949) predicted “He’ll either be the best speaker ever or the worst”, concluding a few months later: “I think he’s turned out to be the bloody worst.”  Once installed, he made himself a fixture and one not easily dislodged.  Although it was in the Westminster system common for speaker to resign if a house voted a dissent from one of their rulings, Cameron suffered five successful motions of dissent against his rulings, one of them moved by the prime-minister himself.  As one member later recounted: “He just shrugged his shoulders and carried on.  He couldn’t care less whether the house supported him or not.  Archie liked being speaker and intended to keep the job.”  Keep it he did, dying in office in 1956.  Green summed him up as “…a queer mixture of generosity, prejudice and irresponsibility” and many noted the parliament became a more placid place after he quit the world.

Dame Jilly Cooper (1937–2025), in the 1980s, in fishnets.

Bonkbuster is a literary genre first defined in the late 1980s as meaning “novels with more emphasis on the sex than the romance and enjoying (ore expecting” best-seller status and like likelihood of adaptation in some form for the screen”.  The construct was bonk + (block)buster, the latter element used to describe highly successful book, films, albums etc.  In the literary genre Dame Jilly was the UK’s most accomplished author, something she attributed, at least in part to her “diligent research on the topic”.  Her novels were churning fantasies of smouldering glances, polo ponies, country houses and corporate back-stabbing, always with an undercurrent of infidelity, often in the green and pleasant land of the English countryside.  Before in 1975 she turned to fiction (albeit with much content drawn from he own active life), she’d spent years as a newspaper columnist where she’s offer practical advice to the modern women such as: “If you amuse a man in bed, he's not likely to bother about the mountain of dust underneath it.”  Although she always, accurately, described herself as “upper-middle class”, her novels tended up rather than down the class system and were studded with titles, money and privilege but the turn of phrase she’d honed within the tight word limits imposed on columnists never deserted her, a protagonist in one novel observing: “I don’t expect fidelity from my husbands, but I demand it from my lovers.”

A bandaged Lindsay Lohan waking dazed and confused after a bonk on the head in Falling for Christmas (2022; left) and on the move in Irish Wish (2024).   

In May 2021, Netflix & Lindsay Lohan executed what became a three movie deal, the first (Falling for Christmas) released in the northern winter of 2022, just in time for the season.  She played the protagonist, a pampered heiress who loses her memory after suffering a bonk on the head, waking up to a new life.  The second Netflix release opens in February 2024 and in Irish Wish, the plotline involves her spontaneously wishing for something, subsequently waking up to find the wish granted.  So it’s a variation on the theme of the first (though without the bonk on the head), the twist being in the theme of “be careful what you wish for”.

Bonking Barnaby and the bonk ban

Malcolm Turnbull (b 1954; prime-minister of Australia 2015-2018), a student of etymology, was as fond as those at The Sun of alliteration and when writing his memoir (A Bigger Picture (2020)) he included a short chapter entitled "Barnaby and the bonk ban".  As well as the events which lent the text it's title, the chapter was memorable for his inclusion of perhaps the most vivid thumbnail sketch of Barnaby Joyce (b 1967; thrice (between local difficulties) deputy prime minister of Australia 2016-2022) yet penned:

"Barnaby is a complex, intense, furious personality.  Red-faced, in full flight he gives the impression he's about to explode.  He's highly intelligent, often good-humoured but also has a dark and almost menacing side - not unlike Abbott (Tony Abbott (b 1957; prime-minister of Australia 2013-2015)) - that seems to indicate he wrestles with inner troubles and torments."

Mr Turnbull and Mr Joyce in parliament, House of Representatives, Canberra, ACT.

The substantive matter was the revelation in mid-2017 the press had become aware Mr Joyce (a married man with four daughters) was (1) conducting an affair with a member of his staff and (2) the young lady was with child.  Mr Turnbull recorded that when asked, Mr Joyce denied both "rumors", which does sound a lie but, in the narrow, technical sense, may have verged on "the not wholly implausible" on the basis that, as he pointed out in a later television interview, the question of paternity was at the time “...a bit of a grey area”.  Mr Joyce and his mistress later married and now have two children so all's well that end's well (at least for the adulterous couple) and Mr Turnbull didn't so much shut the gate after the horse had bolted as install inter-connecting doors between the stables.  His amendments to the Australian Ministerial Code of Conduct (an accommodating document very much in the spirit of Lord Castlereagh's (1769–1822; UK foreign secretary 1812-1822) critique of the Holy Alliance) banned ministers from bonking their staff which sounds uncontroversial but was silent on them bonking the staff of the minister in the office down the corridor.  So the net effect was probably positive in that staff having affairs with their ministerial boss would (through a rapid inter-departmental transfer), gain experience through cross-exposure to other portfolio areas although there's the obvious moral hazard they might be tempted to conduct trysts just to engineer a transfer in the hope of career advancement.  There are worse reasons for having an affair and a bonk for a new job seems a small price to pay; it's been done before. In a sense, Mr Joyce was a victim because when rugby union (and other codes) player Israel Folau (b 1989) in 2019 posted on social media a list of those God condemns to Hell which included “drunks, homosexuals, adulterers, liars, fornicators, thieves, atheists and idolaters”, while there was strident support for the gay community, despite the mention of “adulterers” and “drunks” being obviously and blatantly an attack on Mr Joyce's character, not a whisper was heard in his defence.

Bonk in progress, California State Polytechnic University, Humboldt, May 2024.

Bonk in the sense of “a blow to the head” was in May 2024 adapted for use in memes and other publicity tools associated with the protests staged on US university campuses demanding the institutions’ administrators divest from economic and other engagements with Israel and in support of the cause of the Palestinian people for (variously) statehood or freedom from repression.  The scenes were reminiscent of Vietnam War era protests but the emergence of the water-cooler jug as an icon of political dissent was an unexpected moment of levity.  The origin of that was a viral (“bonk, bonk, bonk”) video clip showing an unidentified protester at the California State Polytechnic University, Humboldt bonking a uniformed law-enforcement officer on the helmet with an empty jug (believed to be a capacity of 5 US gallons (19 litres)) of the type which sits atop a water cooler.

Although recalling the similarly alliterative “burn baby, burn” slogan chanted during the Watts race riots in Los Angeles in August 1965, the “bonk, bonk, bonk” was more a symbol of, if not exactly passive resistance, then certainly something short of actual violence although in a legal sense it would have been an instance of both assault and battery as well as other offences.  Around the country, stickers, posters and the inevitable T-shirts appeared within hours with slogans such as “Water Jug, Come and Take It” and “This machine bonks fascists”, a reference to the “THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS” message the left-wing US folk singer Woody Guthrie (1912–1967) wrote on his guitars.  Whether the water jug (bonking and not) will endure as a symbol of protest will depend, like many aspects of language, on whether it gains a sustained critical mass of use.

The "bonk, bonk, bonk" viral video.  In the conventional sense, the production values weren't high but that very quality of authenticity accounted for its viral success.