Doodlebug

Doodlebug (pronounced dood-l-buhg)

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

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

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

(4) Any of various small, squat vehicles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A doodled Volkswagen “bug” on Drawn Inside.

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

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

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

Doodles on a rendering of Lindsay Lohan by Stable Diffusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1946 Brogan Doodlebug.

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

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

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

Exchequer

Exchequer (pronounced eks-chek-er or iks-chek-er)

(1) A treasury, as of a state or nation.

(2) The governmental department in charge of the public revenues (often initial capital letter).

(3) A now disestablished English office administering the royal revenues and determining all cases affecting them.

(4) An ancient English common-law court of civil jurisdiction in which cases affecting the revenues of the crown were tried, now merged in the King's Bench Division of the High Court.  It was usually styled as the Court of Exchequer.

(5) Informal slang for one’s personal finances.

1250-1300: From Middle English escheker and eschequier, borrowed from the Anglo-French escheker and eschekier, derived from the Old French eschequier and escheccheck (chessboard, counting table).  Source was the Medieval Latin scaccarium (chess board).  The meaning with which it’s now most associated (government finances), emerged under the Norman kings of England, the basis the design of the cloth (divided in squares), covering the tables on which accounts of revenue were reckoned with counters; these reminded all who saw them of a chess board and the name was adopted.  The English respelling with an -x- was because of the erroneous medieval belief that it originally was a Latin ex- word (the old alternative spelling exchecker is long obsolete).  The most common modern use is the UK office of Chancellor of the Exchequer, equivalent variously to finance ministers or treasurers in other systems.  Confusingly for those not political junkies, the UK's prime-minister is formerly styled First Lord of the Treasury and the Chancellor, the Second Lord.  Exchequer is a noun & verb; the noun plural is exchequers.  When used to refer to an established institution (such as the UK's department of treasury), it's correct to use an initial capital.

Court of Exchequer Chamber

Although its origins date from the fourteenth century, it was the statute of 1585 which established the Court of Exchequer Chamber in essentially the form it would remain until its abolition by the Judicature Acts of 1873-1875 when it was absorbed into the Queen’s Bench Division of the High Court.  Always an appellate court for common law civil actions, the court heard references from the King's Bench, the Court of Exchequer and, from 1830, directly rather than indirectly from the Court of Common Pleas.  It was a classic English appeal court in that it was constituted by four judges belonging to the two courts that had been uninvolved at first instance although, in matters of especial importance, twelve common law judges, four from each division below, sitting in Exchequer Chamber, might be asked to determine a point of law, the matter being referred by the court hearing the case rather than the parties.  Appeals from its judgments were, by leave, to the House of Lords but, because the Exchequer Chamber was regarded as a specialist and authoritative body, this was rare before the nineteenth century and rules of judgment by the Chamber were considered definitive statements of the law.

Court of Exchequer (1808) by William Henry Pyne (1769-1843).

Most appeals to the chamber were from the Exchequer of Pleas or Court of Exchequer, a court which dealt with matters of equity and expanded in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries because the doing business in the Court of Chancery was a slow and expensive business.  In the manner of the evolution of the English courts, the Exchequer's jurisdiction, at various times, was common law, equity, or both, the prevailing trend being for discretionary areas of its jurisdiction to expand.  By the nineteenth century, Exchequer and Chancery enjoyed similar jurisdictions and with the Judicature Acts, the Exchequer was formally dissolved as a judicial body by an Order in Council of 16 December 1880.

The style of cloth spread across the tables of the courts of Exchequer has proved durable in fashion, the bold pattern working especially well with stark color contrasts, white with black, red, purple or navy blue the most popular combinations.  The gingham Macy midi dress (left) is a classic example but Lindsay Lohan (right) demonstrates how the look can be achieved using one’s own skin, using a Black Pash shirt & Alaia skirt combo (the t-strap sandals were by Miu Miu but an opportunity was missed by not adding a sympathetic clutch purse), The World's First Fabulous Fund Fair in aid of The Naked Heart Foundation, The Roundhouse, London, February 2015.

Blackwing

Blackwing (pronounced blak-wing)

(1) In zoology (mostly ornithology, entomology & ichthyology), a widely used descriptor of birds, insects, certain water-dwellers and the odd bat.

(2) As Blackwing 602, a pencil with a cult following, manufactured by the Eberhard Faber between 1934-1988, by Faber-Castell 1988 to 1994 and by Sanford 1994-1998.  A visually (though not technically) similar pencil has since 2012 been produced by Palomino.

(3) A high-performance V8 engine manufactured by the Cadillac division of General Motors (GM) between 2018-2020.  Cadillac continues to use Blackwing name for the some of its sedans.

1100s (originally of birds, first informally, later in formal taxonomy): The construct was black + wing.  Black (In the sense of the “color”) was from the Middle English blak, black & blake, from the Old English blæc (black, dark (also "ink”)), from the Proto-West Germanic blak, from the Proto-Germanic blakaz (burnt (and related to the Dutch blaken (to burn)), from the Low German blak & black (blackness, black paint, (black) ink), from the Old High German blah (black), which may be from the primitive Indo-European bhleg- (to burn, shine).  The forms may be compared with the Latin flagrāre (to burn), the Ancient Greek φλόξ (phlóx) (flame) and Sanskrit भर्ग (bharga) (radiance).  Black in this context was “a color” lacking hue and brightness, one which absorbs light without reflecting any of the rays composing it.  In the narrow technical sense, black is an absolute (absorbing light without reflecting any of the rays composing it) but in general use, as a descriptor or color, expressions of graduation or tincture are used, thus the comparative is blacker and the superlative blackest.  The usual synonyms are ebony, sable, inky, sooty, dusky & dark while the antonym is white.  Wing (in the sense used in “flight”) was from the twelfth century Middle English winge & wenge, from the Old Norse vængr (wing of a flying animal, wing of a building), from the Proto-Germanic wēingijaz, from the primitive Indo-European hweh- (to blow (thus the link with “wind”)).  It was cognate with the Old Danish wingæ (wing), the Norwegian & Swedish vinge (wing), the Old Norse vǣngr and the Icelandic vængur (wing).  It replaced the native Middle English fither, from the Old English fiþre, from the Proto-Germanic fiþriją (which merged with the Middle English fether (from the Old English feþer, from the Proto-Germanic feþrō)).  The original use was of birds but this quickly extended to things where a left-right distinction was useful such as architecture, sport and military formations (later extended to organizational structures in air forces).  Blackwing is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is blackwings.  In commercial use, as a registered trademark, an initial capital is used.

Quite why Cadillac (the premium brand of General Motors (GM) since 1909) chose the seemingly improbable “Blackwing” as a name for an engine and later the premium, high-performance versions (the V-Series) of its sedans (a now rare body-style in North America) is said to date to the very origin of the brand, more than a century earlier.  It was to recall the stylized black birds which appeared on the corporate crest first in 1902 (although not widely used until 2005 and trademarked in 1906).  That escutcheon was adopted as a tribute to the French explorer (some are less generous in their descriptions) Antoine Laumet de La Mothe, sieur de Cadillac (1658-1730) who in 1701 founded the settlement which became the city of Detroit.

Evolution of the Cadillac Crest: Antoine Laumet's original (and dubious) family crest (top left), A early Cadillac from 1905 (top centre), from a 1960 Coupe DeVille (top right), with the restored laurel wreath on the unfortunate vinyl roof of a 1968's Eldorado (bottom left), a post 2014 version without couronne & merelettes (bottom centre) and the current versions (bottom right), the black & white edition an illuminated badge created to mark the transition to electric propulsion; it's currently available as an option on petrol vehicles.  The illuminated grill badge was a trick long used by the English manufacturer Wolseley (1901-1975). 

Although of bourgeois origin and having departed France surreptitiously after “some unpleasantness”, shortly after arriving in the new world, Antoine Laumet re-invented himself, adopting a title of nobility named after the town of Cadillac in south-west France and in some histories, it wasn’t unusual for him to claim some vague descent from the royal line, a story common among many of Europe’s aristocratic families and his “family crest” was wholly his own invention.  Such things were possible then.  The Cadillac company modified the crest but retained the most distinctive elements: (1) The couronne (crown (from the Old French corone, from the Latin corōna, from the Ancient Greek κορώνη (korṓnē)) symbolized the six ancient courts of France; (2) The pearls (which appeared in various numbers on both the family & corporate versions) signified a family descended from the royal counts of Toulouse; (3) The shield denoted the military traditions of a noble family, the “warrior symbol” one of the most commonly used in heraldry while (4) The black birds were known as merlettes (an adaptation of the martin), mythical small birds without beaks or feet and never touching the ground, always in flight; they represent a constant striving for excellence, and when presented as a trio, referenced the Holy Trinity and thus a family’s adherence to Christianity.  The merelettes appeared often on the standards flown by knights during the late Medieval Christian Crusades staged to recapture the Holy Land but they didn’t disappear from the Cadillac crest in deference to sensibilities in the Middle East (a market of increasing value to GM).  Like the crown, the black birds were removed in 2000 as a part of a modernization exercise, the aim to achieve something “sharper and sleeker”, the more angular look of the new “Art and Science” philosophy of design.  “Art and Science” was from the class of slogans campaign directors of corporations and political parties adore because they mean nothing in particular while sounding like they must mean something.

A Cadillac Escalade driven by Lindsay Lohan receiving a parking infringement notice (US$70) for obstructing access to a fire hydrant, Los Angeles, September 2011.  The crest’s laurel wreath would remain until 2014 but the merelettes had been removed a decade earlier.

Prestige by association: the badge of the 1971 HQ Holden Statesman de Ville.

Cadillac over the years made may detail changes to the corporate crest and structurally, the most significant addition came in 1963 when an almost enclosing laurel wreath returned (it had been there in 1902 but was gone by 1908, returning for a run between 1916-1925) and it proved the most enduring design thus far, maintained until 2014.  It clearly had some cross-cultural appeal because in 1971 Holden (GM’s now defunct Australian outpost) made a point of issuing a press release informing the country “special permission” had been received from Detroit for them to borrow the wreath to surround the Holden crest on their new HQ Statesman de Ville, a car so special that nowhere on the thing did the word “Holden” appear, the same marketing trick Toyota would three decades on apply to the Lexus.  What has remained constant throughout are the core colors and, according to Cadillac, black against gold symbolizes riches and wisdom; red means boldness and prowess in action; silver denotes purity, virtue, plenty and charity while blue stand for knightly valor.  Behind the and crest, the background is platinum (a high-value metal) and the whole combination is said to have been influenced by Piet Mondrian (1872–1944), a Dutch artist noted for his work with color and geometric shapes.

The elegant black-winged Damselfly, one of dozens of insects, birds, aquatic creatures and the odd bat known as the “black-winged” something.  One of some 150 species of Calopterygidae, the taxonomic name is Calopteryx maculata and the stylish little mosquito muncher is commonly found in North America, its other common name the ebony jewelwing.

Cadillac Blackwing V8.  It was a genuinely impressive piece of engineering but according to Road & Track magazine, Cadillac booked a US$16 million dollar loss against the project.    

Cadillac’s all aluminium Blackwing V8 was designed with an AMG-like specification which would once have seemed exotic to Cadillac owners.  Built in a single basic configuration, it featured a displacement of 4.2 litres (256 cubic inches), double overhead camshafts (DOHC), four valves per cylinder, cross-bolted main bearings and twin, intercooled turbochargers mounted in a “hot-V” arrangement (atop the block, between the cylinder banks) a layout which delivers improved responsiveness but, as BMW found, can bring its own problems.  Intended always to be exclusive to Cadillac’s lines (recalling GM’s divisional structure in happier times) it was in production less than two years because the collapse in demand for the models for which it was intended doomed its future; it was too expensive to produce to be used in other cars.  The early indications had however been hopeful, the initial run of 275 over-subscribed, a slightly detuned version accordingly rushed into production to meet demand.  In 2020, the Blackwood V8 was cancelled.

2025 Cadillac CT5-V Blackwing.

Repurposed, Blackwing however lives on at Cadillac, the company in 2021 appending applying the name to exclusive variants of its CT range sedans.  The CT5-V Blackwing is the last survivor of what once was a well-inhabited niche and although clearly an anachronism, demand still exists and although Cadillac has admitted this will be their last V8-powered sedan, in announcing the 2025 range they’ve made it clear the last days will be memorable.  In a nod to history, the company chose Le Mans in France to reveal details of the 2025 V-Series Blackwing “Special Editions”, honoring the “Le Monstre” and “Petit Pataud” Cadillacs which contested the 1950 24 hour endurance classic.  Each of those was a one-off (one especially so) but in 2025 there will be 101 copies of the Blackwing Le Monstre and 50 of the Petit Patauds.  The two are visually similar, the exteriors finished in Magnus Metal Frost matte paint, accented by Stormhawk Blue Carbon Fiber and Royal Blue brake callipers, the blue theme extened to the interior fittings.  Mechanically, the two are essentially stock, the Petit Pataud based on the CT4-V Blackwing powered by a twin-turbo 3.6 liter (223 cubic inch) V6 while the more alluring Le Monstre includes a supercharged 6.2-liter (376 cubic inch) V8.  For those who care about such things, although Mercedes-Benz AMG once offered rear-wheel-drive (RWD) 6.2 litre V8s, the Batwing offers the chance to enjoy the experience with a manual gearbox, something the Germans never did.  The Blackwings are also much cheaper and have about them an appealing brutishness, a quality Stuttgart’s engineers felt compelled to gloss a little.

2025 Cadillac CT5-V Blackwing.  Compared with some of the atmospheric interiors in the Cadillacs of old, the Blackwing is disappointingly close to what one finds in a Chevrolet but for a number of reasons, creating something which is both attractive and lawful is not as easy as once it was.  For many, the sight of the stick-shift and a clutch pedal means all is forgiven.

In something which would for most of the second half of the twentieth century have seemed improbable or unthinkable, it’s now possible to buy a Cadillac with a manual gearbox and a clutch pedal but not a Ferrari so configured.  Ferrari by 1976 had begun to flirt with automatic transmissions in their road cars (GM’s famously robust Turbo-Hydramatic 400) but until 2004, Cadillac hadn’t needed clutch pedal assemblies on the assembly lines since the last 1953 Series 75 (among the Cadillac crowd the Cimarron (1982-1988) is never spoken of except in the phrase “the unpleasantness of 1982”).  However, by the early twenty-first century, the market for the cars Cadillac had perfected was shrinking fast so, noting the success of Mercedes-AMG and the M-Series BMWs, Cadillac entered the fray and the existence of the Chevrolet Corvette’s transmission in the corporate parts bin meant offering a manual gearbox was financially viable in a way it wasn’t for the Germans.  In the same decade, advances in hydraulics and electronics meant the earlier inefficiencies and technical disadvantages attached to automatic transmissions had been overcome to the point where no Ferrari with a manual transmission, however expertly driven, could match their performance and customers agreed, sales of manual cars dwindling until a swansong when the Ferrari California was released in 2008 with expectations some 5-10% of buyers would opt for a clutch pedal.  However between then and late 2011, a mere three were ordered (some sources say two or five but the factory insists it was three).  Ever since, for Maranello, it’s been automatics (technically “automated manual transmission”) all the way and that wasn’t anything dictatorial; had customer demand existed at a sustainable level, the factory would have continued to supply manual transmissions.  The rarity has however created collectables; on the rare occasions a rare manual version of a usually automatic Ferrari is offered at auction, it attracts attracts a premium and there's now an after-market converting Ferraris to open gate manuals.  It's said to cost up to US$40,000 depending on the model and, predictably, the most highly regarded are those converted using "verified factory parts".  The Cadillac Blackwing offers the nostalgic experience from the factory although the engineers admit there is a slight performance penalty, buyers choosing the manual purely for the pleasure of driving.

Living up to the name: The 1950 Cadillac Le Monstre.

The two cars Cadillacs which in 1950 raced at Le Mans were mechanically similar but visually, could have been from different planets.  The more conventional Petit Pataud was a Series 61 coupe with only minor modification and it gained its nickname (the translation “clumsy puppy” best captures the spirit) because to the French it looked like a lumbering thing but, as its performance in the race would attest, Cadillac’s new 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8 (which would grow to 429 cubic inches (7.0 litres) before it wqs retired in 1967) meant it was faster than it looked.  Underneath the second entrant (Le Monstre obviously needing no translation but used in the sense of “monstrosity” rather than “large”) there was also a Series 61 but the body had been replaced by something more obviously aerodynamic although few, then or now would call it “conventionally attractive”.  Although Le Monstre’s seemed very much in the tradition of the “cucumber-shaped” Mercedes-Benz SSKL which had won the 1932 race at Berlin’s unique AVUS circuit, the lines were the result of testing a 1/12 scale wooden model in a wind-tunnel used usually to optimize crop dusters and other slow-flying airplanes.  Presumably that explains the resemblance to a section of an airplane’s wing (a shape designed to encourage lift), something which would have been an issue had higher speeds been attained but even on the long (6 km (3.7 mile)) Mulsanne Straight, there was in 1950 enough power only to achieve around 210 km/h (130) mph although as a drag-reduction exercise it must have contributed to the 22 km/h (13 mph) advantage it enjoyed over Petit Pataud, something Le Monstre’s additional horsepower alone could not have done and, remarkably, even with the minimalist aluminium skin it wasn’t much lighter than the standard-bodied coupe because this was no monocoque; the Cadillac’s chassis was retained and a tube-frame added to support the panels and provide the necessary torsional stiffness.

Le Monstre's 331 cubic inch V8 with its unusual (and possibly unique) five-carburetor induction system.

Some of the additional horsepower came from the novel induction system.  Le Monstre’s V8 was configured with five carburettors, the idea being that by use of progressive throttle-linkages, when ultimate performance wasn’t required the car would run on a single (central) carburettor, the other four summoned on demand and in endurance racing, improved fuel economy can be more valuable than additional power.  That’s essentially how most four-barrel carburettors worked, two venturi usually providing the feed with all four opened only at full throttle and Detroit would later refine the model by applying “méthode Le Monstre” to the triple carburettor systems many used between 1957-1971.  As far as is known, the only time a manufacturer flirted with the idea of a five carburetor engine was Rover which in the early 1960s was experimenting with a 2.5 (153 cubic inch) litre inline five cylinder which was an enlargement of their 2.0 litre (122 cubic inch) four.  Fuel-injection was the obvious solution but the systems then were prohibitively expensive (for the market segment Rover was targeting) so the prototypes ended up with two carburettors feeding three cylinders and one the other two, an arrangement as difficult to keep in tune as it sounds.  Rover’s purchase of the aluminium 3.5 litre (214 cubic inch) V8 abandoned by General Motors (GM) meant the project was abandoned and whatever the cylinder count, mass-produced fuel injection later made any configuration possible.  Five carburettors wasn’t actually the highest count seen in the pre fuel-injection era, Ferrari and Lamborghini both using six (done also by motorcycle manufacturers such as Honda and Benelli) and Moto-Guzzi in the 1950s fielded a 500 cm³ Grand-Prix bike with the memorable component count of 8 cylinders, 4 camshafts, 16 valves & 8 carburetors.  The early prototypes of Daimler’s exquisite V8s (1959-1969) were also built with eight carburettors because the original design was base on a motorcycle power-plant, the reason why they were planned originally as air-cooled units.

Le Monstre ahead of Petit Pataud, Le Mans, 1950.  At the fall of the checkered flag, the positions were reversed. 

Motor racing is an unpredictable business and, despite all the effort lavished on Le Monstre, in the 1950 Le Mans 24 hour, it was the less ambitious Petit Pataud which did better, finishing a creditable tenth, the much modified roadster coming eleventh having lost may laps while being dug from the sand after an unfortunate excursion from the track.  Still, the results proved the power and reliability of Cadillac’s V8 and Europe took note: over the next quarter century a whole ecosystem would emerge, crafting high-priced trans-Atlantic hybrids which combined elegant European coachwork with cheap, powerful US V8s, the lucrative fun lasting until the first oil crisis.

Perfection in a pencil: The Eberhard Faber Blackwing 602.  They were not cylindrical so, like a "carpenter's pencil", were less prone to rolling onto the floor.  

The Blackwing 602 remains fondly remembered by those who admire the perfect simplicity of the pencil.  Produced in the shape of a square ferrule (both pleasant to hold in one’s hand and less susceptible to rolling off the desk), it used a soft, dark graphite blend which required less pressure (the manufacturer claimed half but it’s not clear if this was science or “mere puffery”) to put what was wanted on paper.  To casual users, this may not sound significant but for those for whom pencilling was a full-time task (notably writers and artists), the advantages were considerable and the advertising claim “Half the Pressure, Twice the Speed” must have convinced one target market because the Blackwing 602 was a favourite of stenographers (a profession one of the early victims of the technological changes which have emerged in the wake of the transistor & microprocessor).  The Blackwing 602 was manufactured by Eberhard Faber between 1934-1988, by Faber-Castell (1988-1994) and by Sanford (1994-1998).  In 2012, after buying rights to the name, Palomino being production of a visually similar Blackwing but they didn’t quite replicate the graphite’s recipe.  Original Blackwing 602s are now a collectable and in perfect condition are advertised between US$50-100 although there was one recent outlier sale which benefited from a celebrity provenance.

Pencil porn.

Doyle’s in New York on 18 June 2024 conducted an auction of some items from the estate of US composer and lyricist Stephen Sondheim (1930–2021), attracting dealers, collectors & Sondheim devotees.  There was Lot 275: (Three blue boxes printed with "Eberhard Faber/Blackwing/Feathery-Smooth Pencils, two of the boxes complete with 12 pencils, one with 8 only (together 32 pencils).  Some wear to the boxes and drying of the erasers”, listed with a pre-sale estimate of US$600-800.  The hammer fell at US$6,400 against a pre-sale estimate of US$600-800.  That’s US$200.00 per pencil, indicating the value of a celebrity connection but whoever set the pre-sale estimate (US$18.75-25.00 per pencil) clearly didn’t check eBay.

Pellucid

Pellucid (pronounced puh-loo-sid)

(1) Allowing the maximum passage of light, as glass; transparent; translucent; non-opaque.

(2) Clear; limpid.

(3) In fashion, a see through fabric or a garment made of such (used loosely also of many which are semi-opaque and thus technically subpellucid).

(4) Easily recognized or seen through; apparent, obvious (archaic).

(5) By extension, of music or some other sound: not discordant or harsh; clear and pure-sounding (technical use only in composition, academic study or criticism).

(6) Figuratively, clear in meaning, expression, or style; not obscure.

(7) Figuratively, of a person, able to think and understand clearly; not confused, perspicacious (now rare).

(8) In anatomy, as "zona pellucida" (the plural: zonae pellucidae or zonæ pellucidæ), a glycoprotein membrane surrounding the plasma membrane of an oocyte.

1610-1620: A learned borrowing from the Latin pellūcidus, a variant of perlūcidus (transparent, pellucid; very bright, radiant; very understandable), from perlūcēre (to shine through), the construct being per- (as a prefix, “through; throughout; completely, thoroughly”), from the primitive Indo-European root per- (forward, hence “through”) + lūcēre or lūcidus (clear; full of light, bright, shining (and figuratively “easily understood, clear, lucid”)), from lūceō (to shine; to become visible, show through (and figuratively “to be apparent, conspicuous, or evident”)).  The construct of the Latin lucidus was understood as lux (light), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European lewk- (bright; to see; to shine) + -idus (the suffix forming adjectives conveying the sense “tending towards”).  The construct in English may thus be understood as pe(r) +-l- + lucid (see through).  The (now rare) noun was derived from the adjective.  In technical use, the preferred word to convey the idea of “somewhat pellucid; tending toward pellucidness” appears to be subpellucid (along with the derived subpellucidly & subpellucidness, all sometimes hyphenated) rather than semi-pellucid, quasi-pellucid, or other possibilities.  The comparative is “more pellucid” and the superlative “most pellucid”).  Pellucid is a noun & adjective, pellucidness & pellucidity are nouns and pellucidly is an adverb; the noun plural is pellucids.  Pellucid and its derivatives are good words and should be used, just not by lawyers.

The pellucid water of Flathead Lake, Montana USA.

“These wells were filled with water, and with a blue light, celestial in its loveliness,—a light ethereal and pellucid.” (Over the Rocky Mountains to Alaska (1914) by Charles Warren Stoddard (1843-1909)).  In literary and poetic use, one will sometimes find “pellucid waters” but the word seem too obscure for advertizing copy-writers who, seeking pellucidity, prefer “crystal clear” although the once uncommon “azure” seems to have become sufficient familiar for the bays of the Mediterranean or Caribbean to be called “azure blue waters”.

Lindsay Lohan in swimsuit with subpellucid V-cut panel; clutch purse by Chanel and wearing Lanvin Classic Garnet ballet flats, Los Angeles, August 2012.

Although there are a few which are designed to be eye-catching, the extensive use the industry makes of pellucid (see-through) fabrics mostly is barely noticed because typically the application is either (1) only subpellucid, (2) covering non-sexualized body-parts such as arms or (3) as an overlay designed to highlight or subtly alter the color or texture of the fabric with which what lies beneath is made.  One intriguing tradition exploiting a fabric’s quality of pellucidly which has endured despite the unpromising origin is the bride’s wedding veil.  Historically, the idea of the veil was to conceal the bride’s appearance from the groom until the priest had pronounced the couple man & wife, thereby having joined together in the name of God what “let no man tear asunder”.  The functional advantage was as a precaution against a groom finding grounds for rejecting his betrothed in those once not uncommon cases where the ceremony was the first time the two had met, the arrangements having been hammered out by the often distant families, sometimes years in advance.  The point at which the bride was unveiled and the priest spoke the words: “You may now kiss the bride” which, in the cases of arranged marriages, actually meant: “You’re stuck with her mate; good luck.”  Even in times gone by however, most brides and grooms were well known to each other (“known” sometimes in the Biblical sense, thus the need for sometimes hastily arranged marriages) but the veil became a popular part of a bride’s ensemble and still they’re sometimes used.

In most parts of the English-speaking world, in recent decades there have been attempts to ensue “plain English” is used in legislation and legal documents.  It’s an admirable goal for many reasons but perhaps the most obvious is a contribution to increased compliance with laws, simply because pellucidness in wording would decrease the risk of unintentional breaches of law and legal obligations, at least some of which are the consequences of misunderstanding; as an example, a word like pellucid should not appear in legal documents because it is little-known and rare.  Using sentences plain in meaning and unambiguous even to those without legal training improves communication which increases information, thereby reducing the need for interpreters (lawyers), thereby decreasing the costs associated with the administration and application of legislation and other legal documents.  Those fond of conspiracy theories like to find in the difficult language a sort of job-creation programme for lawyers but it was really a product of the power of precedent, the phrases and terms of law, many still in their original Latin, having gained a certainty of meaning and thus maintained for generation after generation.  Language itself also had some inertia, the idea of a “legal style” of writing soon entrenched as “correct” and maintained by law schools and practitioners.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in Court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

The matter for a long had attracted the interest of reformers in the law and parliaments but began to coalesce as a movement in the post-war years and this may at least have been influenced by the extent to which the increasing volume of laws passed by modern states were starting to intrude on the lives of more citizens, most of whom historically had little direct contact with legislation unless they came to the attention of the police.  In 1950, when sitting as a Lord of Appeal, the English judge Lord Radcliffe (1899–1977) observed what as early as 1913 had come to be called “legalese” had become: “…a sort of hieratic language… by which the priests incant the commandments.  I seem to see the ordinary citizen today standing before the law like the laity in a medieval church: at the far end the lights glow, the priestly figures move to and fro, but it is in an unknown tongue that the great mysteries of right and wrong are proclaimed.”  He concluded by asking: “...what willing allegiance can a man owe to a canon of obligation which is not even conceived in such a form as to be understood?”

It was a reasonable question, even if phrased in a way many would find as arcane as the object of his Lordship’s critique it wasn’t until the 1970s that law reform commissions and others began to circulate discussion papers and proposals  The rationale was encapsulated in one fragment in the decision handed down by Lord Donaldson (1920–2005; Master of the Rolls 1982-1992) in Merkur Island Shipping Corp v Laughton [1983]1 All ER 334: “The efficacy and maintenance of the rule of law, which is the foundation of any parliamentary democracy, has at least two prerequisites.  First people must understand that it is in their interests, as well as in that of the community as a whole, that they should live their lives in accordance with the rules and all the rules.  Second they must know what those rules are.”  In the 1990s, reform of language began to happen at scale and there was in this an element of technological determinism, the digitization of legislation and codes meaning texts ancient and modern began to appear on the screens of word processors, making modernization a simpler process.