Literal

Literal (pronounced lit-er-uhl)

(1) In accordance with, involving, or being the primary or strict meaning of the word or words; not figurative or metaphorical.

(2) Following the words of the original exactly.

(3) True to fact; not exaggerated; actual or factual; being actually such, without exaggeration or inaccuracy.

(4) Of, persons, tending to construe words in the strict sense or in an unimaginative way; matter-of-fact; prosaic.

(5) Of or relating to the letters of the alphabet (obsolete except for historic, technical or academic use); of or pertaining to the nature of letters.

(6) In language translation, as "literal translation", the precise meaning of a word or phrase as opposed to the actual meaning conveyed when used in another language.

(7) A typographical error, especially involving a single letter (in technical use only).

(8) In English (and other common law jurisdictions) law, one of the rules of statutory construction and interpretation (also called the plain meaning rule).

(9) In computer science, a notation for representing a fixed value in source code.

(10) In mathematics, containing or using coefficients and constants represented by letters.

1350-1400: From the Middle English from the Late Latin literalis & litteralis (of or belonging to letters or writing) from the Classical Latin litera & littera (letter, alphabetic sign; literature, books).  The meaning "taking words in their natural meaning" (originally in reference to Scripture and opposed to mystical or allegorical), is from the Old French literal (again borrowed from the Latin literalis & litteralis).  In English, the original late fourteenth meaning was "taking words in their natural meaning" and was used in reference to the understanding of text in Scripture, distinguishing certain passages from those held to be mystical or allegorical.  The meaning "of or pertaining to the letters of the alphabet " emerged in English only in the late fifteenth century although that was the meaning of the root from antiquity, a fork of that sense being " verbally exact, according to the letter of verbal expression, attested from the 1590s and it evolved in conjunction with “the primary sense of a word or passage”.  The phrase “literal-minded” which can be loaded with negative, neutral or positive connotations, is noted from 1791.  Literal is a noun & adjective, literalize is a verb, literalistic is an adjective, literalist, literalization & literalism are nouns and literally is an adverb; the noun plural is literals.

The meaning "concerned with letters and learning, learned, scholarly" was known since the mid-fifteenth century but survives now only literary criticism and the small number of universities still using “letters” in the description of degree programmes.  The Bachelor of Letters (BLitt or LittB) was derived from the Latin Baccalaureus Litterarum or Litterarum Baccalaureus and historically was a second undergraduate degree (as opposed to a Masters or other post-graduate course) which students pursued to study a specialized field or some aspect of something of particular interest.  Once common, these degrees are now rare in the English-speaking world.  It was between 1895-1977 offered by the University of Oxford and was undertaken by many Rhodes Scholars, sometimes as an adjunct course, but has now been replaced by the MLitt (Master of Letters) which has a minimal coursework component.  When the BLitt was still on the books, Oxford would sometimes confer it as a sort of consolation prize, offering DPhil candidates whose submission had proved inadequate the option of taking a BLitt if the prospect of re-writing their thesis held no appeal.  Among the dons supervising the candidates, the verb "to BLitt" emerged, the classic form being: “he was BLitt-ed you know".

Oxford BLitt in light-blue hood, circa 1907, prior to the reallocation of the shades of blue during the 1920s.

Oxford's colorful academic gowns are a footnote in the history of fashion although influences either way are difficult to detect.  The regulations of 1895 required the new BLitt and the BSc (Bachelor of Science) were to wear the same dress as the existing B.C.L (Bachelor of Civil Law) and the BM (Bachelor of Medicine) and if there was a difference between the blues used for the BCL and the BM in 1895, the implicit "respectively" (actually then its Latin equivalent) would seem to suggest the BLitt was to use the same color hood as the BCL and the BSc to use the shade of the BM and that's certainly how it appears on many contemporary depictions.  Although in the surviving record the hues of blue would in the following decades vary somewhat (and the colors were formerly re-allocated during the 1920s, the BLitt moving to a more vivid rendition of light-blue), the BLitt, BSc and BCL hoods tended always to be brighter and the BM darker.  Whether it was artistic license or an aesthetic nudge, one painter in 1927 mixed something much lighter for the BLitt, a shade more neutral and hinting at a French grey but no other artist seems to have followed.  By 1957, the BLitt and BSc gowns had returned to the colors of the 1895 decree while the BCL and BM were now in mid-blue and that remained unchanged until 1977 when the BLitt and BSc were superseded by masters’ degrees, the new MSc and MLitt given a blue hood lined with the grey of the DLitt & DSc.

Oxford BM in mid-blue hood, circa 1905.

Quite how much the work of the artist can be regarding as an accurate record of a color as it appeared is of course dubious, influenced as it is the painter’s eye, ambient light and the angle at which it was observed.  Even the descriptions used by the artists in their notes suggest there was either some variation over the years (and that would not be unexpected given the differences in the dying processes between manufacturers) or the terms for colors meant different things to different painters: The Oxford BMus hood was noted as blue (1882 & 1934), mauve (1920), lilac (1923, 1924, 1927, 1935 & 1957), dark lilac (1948) and dark purple (1926).  With improvements in photographic reproduction and the greater standardization in the industrial processes used in dying, the post-war photographic record is more reliable and lilac seems a good description for the BM and “light blue” for the BLitt.

In modern (social media) use, "literal" often is used as term of emphasis meaning something like "an exemplar of".  Although the purists will never approve, in that context, it may come to be regarded as a genuine additional meaning, although unlike a word like decimate, it wont be a meaning shift replacing the original.   

In March 2023, after the announcement of her daughter's pregnancy, Lindsay Lohan's mother (Dina Lohan (b 1962)) was quoted as saying: “I’m literally over the moon. I’m so happy, I can’t stop smiling”.  The proneness to exaggeration seems to be a family trait because Lindsay Lohan did once admit some of her youthful antics made her mother “hit the roof” which, hopefully, she didn't mean to be taken literally (although, who knows?).  The now seemingly endemic misuse of literal is not new, Henry Watson Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) noting errors in general use from as early as the 1820s and the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) has cited literary examples from the seventeenth century.  Interestingly, it appears objections emerged at scale only in the early twentieth century which does suggest an additional meaning may have existed or at least been evolving before the grammar Nazis imposed their censorious ways.  So endemic in English has the (mis)use become and genuine confusion so rare the pedants really should give up their carping; after all, some illustrious names have sinned:

Scrooge McDuck, literally "rolling in wealth" in his famous money bin. 

“…literally rolling in wealth…”: (Mark Twain (1835-1910), The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876)).  In fairness to Twain, it can be done.  While Donald Trump (as far as is known) does it only figuratively, Walt Disney (1901–1966) had Scrooge McDuck (created 1947) literally roll-around in the huge volumes of cash he stashed in his "money bin" (a reputed 3 cubic acres (257,440 m³; 772.321 megalitres)) but that wouldn't have been what Twain had in mind.

“The land literally flowed with milk and honey.”: (Louisa May Alcott (1832–1888), Little Women (1868-1869)).  That one may be at least a gray area because milk and honey do literally "flow" (though their varies viscosities mean the flow-rates do differ) and "the land" can be used in the sense of the country and its people rather than "the soil".   

“…Gatsby literally glowed” [after reuniting with Daisy at his house]: (F Scott Fitzgerald (1896–1940), The Great Gatsby (1925)).  Women (when pregnant or as new mothers) often are said "to be glowing" in the sense of their happiness being such it seems "to radiate" from them and this may be what Fitzgerald wished to suggest but even then it was untypical to apply the phrase to men.  However, at least debatably, some time ago, popular use reached the threshold where to describe a new mother as “glowing” could be regarded as literal because the word has become so vested with that sense.  Indeed, in January 2026, when announcing her long-standing feud with Lindsay Lohan had moved from a state of détente to a kind of entente cordiale, Paris Hilton (b 1981) told her audience: “We plan on getting the kids together.  I'm so happy for her.  She is glowing. We love being moms.”  So, that literalism of “glowing” has her imprimatur and, as is well-known, where Paris Hilton goes, the English language follows.  

The literal rule in statutory interpretation in the UK & Commonwealth

Statute law is that set in place by a body vested with appropriate authority (typically a legislature) and maintained in written form.  In providing rulings involving these laws, courts in the common-law world (although in the US the evolution has been a little different) have developed a number of principles of statutory interpretation, the most fundamental of which is “the literal rule” (sometimes called the “plain meaning rule”).  It’s the basis of all court decisions involving statues, the judge looking just to the words written down, relying on their literal meaning without any attempt to impute or interpret meaning.  The process should ensure laws are made exclusively by legislators alone; those elected for the purpose, the basis of the constitutional theory being that it’s this which grants laws their legitimacy and thus the consent of those upon they’re imposed.  However, an application of the literal rule can result in consequences which are nonsensical, immoral or unjust but the theory is that will induce the legislature to correct whatever error in drafting was the cause; it not being the task of the court to alter a duly passed law; the judiciary must interpret and not attempt to remedy the law.

A judge in 1980 observed the British constitution “…is firmly based upon the separation of powers; parliament makes the laws, the judiciary interpret them.  When Parliament legislates to remedy what the majority of its members at the time perceive to be a defect… the role of the judiciary is confined to ascertaining from the words that parliament has approved as expressing its intention what that intention was, and to giving effect to it. Where the meaning of the statutory words is plain and unambiguous it is not for the judges to invent fancied ambiguities as an excuse for failing to give effect to its plain meaning because they themselves consider that the consequences of doing so would be inexpedient, or even unjust or immoral.”  So a judge should not depart from the literal meaning of words even if the outcome is unjust.  If they do, the will of parliament is contradicted.

However, some things were so absurd even the most black-letter-law judges (of which there were not a few) could see the problem.  What emerged was “the golden rule”, the operation of which a judge in 1857 explained by saying the “…grammatical and ordinary sense of the words is to be adhered to unless that would lead to some absurdity or some repugnance or inconsistency with the rest of the instrument in which case the grammatical and ordinary sense of the words may be modified so as to avoid the absurdity and inconsistency, but no farther.”  The golden rule thus operates to avoid an absurdity which an application of the literal rule might produce.

The golden rule was though deliberately limited in scope, able to be used only in examples of absurdity so extreme it would be a greater absurdity not to rectify.  Thus “the mischief rule” which with judges exercised rather more discretion within four principles, first mentioned in 1584 at a time when much new legislation was beginning to emerge to supersede the old common law which had evolved over centuries of customary practice.  Given the novelty of codified national law replacing what previously been administered with differences between regions, the need for some debugging was not unexpected, hence the four principles of the mischief rule: (1) What was the common law before this law?, (2) What was the mischief and defect for which the common law did not provide and thus necessitate this law?, (3) What remedy for the mischief and defect is in this law”, & (4) The role of the judge is to make such construction as shall suppress the mischief and advance the remedy.  The rule was intended to determine what mischief a statute was intended to correct and interpret the statute justly to avoid any mischief.

The mischief rule closes loopholes in the law while allowing them to evolve in what may be a changing environment but does permit an element of the retrospective and depends on the opinion and prejudices of the judge: an obvious infringement on the separation of powers protected by the strict application of literal rule.  So it is a trade-off, the literal rule the basic tool of statutory interpretation which should be deviated from only in those exceptional cases where its application would create an absurdity or something manifestly unjust.  This the golden rule allows while the mischief rule extends judicial discretion, dangerously some have said, permitting the refinement of law at the cost of increasing the role of the judges, a group where views and prejudices do vary.  From all this has evolved the debate about judicial activism.

Colonel Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; VPOTUS 1901, POTUS 1901-1909) with the 1^st US Volunteer Cavalry and troopers of the 10th Cavalry after the capture of Kettle Hill during the Battle of San Juan Hill, July 1898.

Fought between April-August 1898, the Spanish–American War followed the warship USS Maine (an “armoured cruiser” best thought of as one of the smaller “pre-Dreadnought” battleships) in February blowing up and sinking while anchored in Cuba’s Havana Harbor; 261 of the ship’s complement of 355 were killed.  Based on the early reports and available evidence, the US Navy’s explosives experts suggested the blast appeared to have been caused by a spontaneous coal bunker fire but Roosevelt, then serving as Assistant Secretary of the Navy, pushed back, labelling that conclusion “premature” and insisted sabotage was possible, telling colleagues: “the Maine was sunk by an act of dirty treachery on the part of the Spaniards.”  That might have sounded strange to those who have read the press reports of courteous Spaniards having welcomed her arrival in Havana with the presentation to the captain of a case of Jerez sherry and William McKinley (1843–1901; US president 1897-1901) the next evening, hosting his first diplomatic dinner in the White House, having the Spanish minister sit next to him, despite almost a dozen other envoys enjoying precedence.  Roosevelt however had his war-paint on and he had the enthusiastic support of William Randolph Hearst’s (1863–1951) New York newspaper the Journal, something of the FoxNews of its day and an early example of “yellow journalism”.

Unconvinced after having learned the Maine had been “a floating bomb, its forecastle packed with gunpowder and its magazines laced with shortable wires”, McKinley ordered an investigation, saying: “I don’t propose to be swept off my feet by the catastrophe.  I have been through one war [the US Civil War 1861-1865] and I have seen the dead piled up, and I do not want to see another.”   He called for an investigation, which dragged on for months.  While McKinley’s enquiry percolated, Hearst had the Journal print fanciful diagrams showing how the Spanish “Infernal Machine” had hit the hull while Roosevelt, taking advantage of the temporary absence of the Secretary of the Navy, ordered the Pacific squadron to sea, put the European and South Atlantic stations on alert, demanded of Congress the immediate authorization of the unlimited recruitment of seamen and ordered large quantities of guns and ammunition.  By the time McKinley's investigation reported the cause of the sinking as an “external explosion”, Roosevelt and Hearst had honed public opinion and, the die cast, a reluctant McKinley took his country to war.

A stylized image of the explosion which sank the USS Maine, published in 1898 by Kurz and Allison (a Chicago-based publisher of chromolithographs), Nautical History Gallery and Museum.

In a move that would wholly be unfamiliar to bloodthirsty, non-combatant modern politicians who prefer to sit at a safe distance to watch other people’s children fight their wars, Roosevelt’s view was: “I have done all I could to bring on the war, because it is a just war, and the sooner we meet it the better.  Now that it has come, I have no business to ask others to do the fighting and stay home myself.”  He resigned from the administration and headed for Cuba with his “Rough Riders” (a collection of “cowboys, idealists. Veteran soldiers, Native Americans and adventurers”), assembled as the 1^st US Volunteer Cavalry, a formation John Hay (1838-1905; US Secretary of State 1898-1905) thought “ideally suited” to what be labelled a “splendid little war.”  Although brief, the conflict was of great significance because it was at this point the US became an imperial power, its defeat of Spain resulting in the acquisition of Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines, while Cuba would until 1902 remain a US protectorate.  By the late twentieth century a consensus had emerged that the explosion was most likely caused by an "internal event" and not a Spanish mine but much had since happened and "what's done is done and can't be undone".

The Rough Riders were one of several units formed ad hoc which were dissolved with the end of the war and while the notion of what were quasi-private militias operating in concert with regular forces may seem curious, before World War I (1914-1918) changed the public perception of war, for some men, the lure of combat still had a romantic aura.  While the contribution of the Rough Riders strategically was slight, it was real and it was the action of 1 July which became the war’s most famous engagement.  On that day, in a combined assault with regular army troops, Roosevelt on horseback led the Rough Riders in charges up Kettle Hill and San Juan Hill; there over a thousand casualties with some 200 killed.  He returned to the US as a national hero and in November 1898 was elected governor of New York before being "persuaded" to run as McKinley’s running mate on the Republican ticket for the 1900 presidential election.  Roosevelt would have been familiar with the nineteenth century there was a joke about two brothers: “One ran off to sea and the other became vice-president; neither were ever heard of again” and may have anticipated the view of John Nance Garner III (1868–1967, VPOTUS 1933-1941 so thus a reasonable judge of these things), that being VPOTUS was “...not worth a bucket of warm piss” (which is polite company usually is sanitized as “...bucket of warm spit”).  Accordingly, he was diffident about seeking the nomination which in his day was not thought a stepping stone to higher things.  That’s changed and a number of VPOTUSs have become POTUS; on a few occasions that has worked well but of late the record has not been encouraging, the presidencies of Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; VPOTUS 1961-1963, POTUS 1963-1968), Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961, POTUS 1969-1974), George H. W. Bush (George XLI, 1924-2018; VPOTUS 1981-1989, POTUS 1989-1993) and Joe Biden (b 1942; VPOTUS 2008-2017, POTUS 2021-2025) 1963-1968, all ending badly, in despair, disgrace, defeat and decrepitude respectively.  Roosevelt in 1900 told friends he’d rather “…be anything else, say, a professor of history” but finally decided he could make it a solid platform for a run for the presidency in 1904.

His path to the nomination for VPOTUS was made somewhat smoother by the party bosses in New York wanting him out because although popular with the voters, for the machine men used to running things, he was a loose cannon and one they’d sooner have sitting in an inconsequential office in Washington DC than making trouble in New York where he exercised real power.  Mark Hanna (1837-1904), the great Republican boss, called him “that damned cowboy” (which, in many ways, could be read literally) and Mark Twain disapproved, saying he was “clearly insane… and insanest upon war and its supreme glories.”  Hanna was of course aware of the danger for a VPOTUS is first in the line of succession and he’d tried to stop the nomination, imploring the delegates to “see reason”, telling them: “Don’t any of you realize that there’s only one life between that madman and the presidency?”  It was to no avail and in 1900 the McKinley/Roosevelt ticket prevailed, prompting Hanna to tell McKinley: “Your sacred duty for the next four years is to stay alive” and the president did his best but, through no fault of his own, was within months cut down by the gunfire of an anarchist and “that damned cowboy” was sworn in as Chief Magistrate of the United States.  In what must now seem an extraordinary example of judicial alacrity, within six weeks of McKinley’s death, the anarchist assassin had been tried, convicted and executed in New York’s Auburn Prison, dispatched by the New York State Electrician.

A full-page advertisement taken out by Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) in the New York Daily News (1 May 1989).  When he said "BRING BACK THE DEATH PENALTY", he meant it literally.

“New York State Electrician” really was the title of the state’s chief executioner and the title was derived from the use of the electric chair.  The first appointment was made in 1890 and despite New York staging its last execution in 1963, the position was not disestablished until the Nixon-era decision by the USSC (US Supreme Court) in Furman v. Georgia, 408 U.S. 238 (1972), which had the effect of imposing a national moratorium on the use of the death penalty until 1976 when it was held certain states successfully had re-written their statutes in conformity with the US constitution.  Intriguingly, between 1890-1963 the fee received by the State Electrician was never changed from the original US$150 (with a bonus US$50 paid for additional executions performed on the same day).  That was despite substantial inflation (and the related decrease in the purchasing power of the US$): By 1963, the equivalent value of 1890’s US$150 was calculated at US$504.40 and by 2026 the number was US$5,342.67.  Mr Trump ran his advertisement in four New York City newspapers at a total cost of US$85,000 so, had the New York State Electrician still be plying his specialized trade, what was paid to the papers would have covered some 567 executions but if the fee had been adjusted in line with inflation (the value of 1990’s US$150 by 1989 having risen to US$2,043.96), it would have paid for fewer than 42 to “get the chair”.

Movements in the value of the US$ (inflation & purchasing power), 1890-2026.

Roosevelt’s military exploits in what came to be called the Battle of San Juan Heights made him a national celebrity, a role he was well-equipped to exploit and when late in 1898 he's returned to the US, his mind turned to politics and his goal was the White House; for that he needed a stepping stone.  New York’s Republican Party establishment preferred to endorse candidates who were (1) sane and (2) dependent on the machine and thus compliant so were thus not enamoured with the leader of the Rough Riders but above all they needed someone likely to win an election, a quality Roosevelt appeared to possess, unlike the alternatives.  So, reluctantly, the New York Republicans adopted them as their candidate in the 1898 gubernatorial election and Roosevelt stormed into the campaign with the same enthusiasm he'd a few months earlier displayed on horseback while leading charges against the Spanish.  With a sense for publicity which never deserted him, he had Sergeant Buck Taylor (who’d charged with him in Cuba) speak at an election rally where he told the assembled crowd: “…and when it came to the great day he led us up San Juan Hill like sheep to the slaughter and so he will lead you.”  Roosevelt won the election, winning the popular vote 49.02% to 47.70% so clearly not too many New Yorkers took Sergeant Taylor’s words literally.

Corduroy

Corduroy (pronounced kawr-duh-roi)

(1) A cotton-filling pile fabric with lengthwise cords or ridges.

(2) In the plural as corduroys (or cords), trousers made from this fabric.

(3) Of, relating to, or resembling corduroy.

(4) A method of building an improvised road or causeway, constructed with logs laid together transversely (used by military forces, those operating in swampy ground areas etc); the result was described originally as “ribbed velvet” and when intended for sustained use, earth was thrown into the gaps and compacted, thus rendering a relatively smooth, stable surface.

(5) To form such a “road” by arranging logs transversely.

(6) In ski-run maintenance, a pattern on snow resulting from the use of a snow groomer to pack snow and improve skiing, snowboarding and snowmobile trail conditions (corduroy thought a good surface for skiing).

(7) In Irish slang, cheap, poor-quality whiskey (based on the idea on the fabric corduroy not being “smooth”).

1776: Of uncertain origin.  There’s no consensus among etymologists but the most support seems to be for the construct being cord +‎ duroy (one of a number of lightweight, worsted fabrics once widely produced and known collectively as “West of England Cloth”).  Cord (A long, thin, flexible length of twisted yarns (strands) of fiber) was from the late thirteenth century Middle English corde (a string or small rope composed of several strands twisted or woven together; bowstring, hangman's rope), from the Old French corde (rope, string, twist, cord), from the Latin chorda (string of a musical instrument, cat-gut), from the Doric Ancient Greek χορδά (khordá) (string of gut, the string of a lyre) and may be compared with the Ionic χορδή (khordḗ), from the primitive Indo-European ghere- (bowel; intestine).  The adjective cordless (of electrical devices or appliances working without a cord (ie powered by a battery) dates from 1905 and was augmented later by “wireless” which described radios so configured.  Cordless is still a useful word now that the meaning of “wireless” in the context of computing has become dominant.  The curious use of cord as “a unit of measurement for firewood, equal to 128 cubic feet (4 × 4 × 8 feet), composed of logs and/or split logs four feet long and none over eight inches diameter (and usually seen as a stack 4 feet high by 8 feet long)” dates from the 1610s and was so-called because it was measured with a cord of rope marked with the appropriate measures.

Lindsay Lohan as fashion influencer: In burnt red corduroy pants & nude platform pumps, Los Angeles, December 2011 (left) and leaving Phillippe Restaurant after dinner with Woody Allen (b 1935), New York, May 2012 (right).  It's said that before he met Lindsay Lohan, the film director had never worn corduroy trousers and he still prefers brown, seemingly unable to escape the 1970s when he was perhaps at his happiest.

Until well into the twentieth century, the old folk etymology was still being published which held the word was from the French corde du roi (cloth of the king”), which seems never to have be used in France, the correct term for “cloth of the king” being velours côtelé.  It’s not impossible there’s some link with cordesoy, from the French corde de soie (“rope of silk” or “silk-like fabric”) because that form is documented in an advertisement for clothing fabrics dating from 1756.  The spelling corderoy appears in commercial use in 1772 but the modern “corduroy” became the standard form in the 1780s.  The origin of duroy is obscure and the earliest known use (in print) of the word appeared in the early seventeenth century; it may be from the French du roi (of the king), a 1790 trade publication in France including the term duroi (a woolen fabric similar to tammy).  So, although the case for cord +‎ duroy seems compelling, etymologists note (1) duroy was fashioned from wool while corduroy was made with cotton and there’s no other history of the two words being associated, (2) grammatically, the compound should have been duroy-cord and (3) this does not account for the earlier corderoy.

None of that of course means cord +‎ duroy was not the source and many English words have been formed in murky ways.  There’s also the possibility of some link with the English surname Corderoy (although there is no evidence of a connection); the name was also spelt Corderey & Cordurey, the origin lying in the nickname for “a proud person” (of French origin, it meant “king’s heart”).  Some are more convinced by a suggestion made in 1910 by the English philologist Ernest Weekley (1865-1954) who speculated corduroy began life as folk-etymology for the trade-term common in the sixteenth century: colour de roy, from the French couleur de roi (king’s colour) which originally was a reference to both a cloth in the rich purple associated with the French kings and the color itself. Later, it came to signify a bright tawny colour and a cloth of this hue.  Corduroy as an adjective came into use after 1789 and the use to describe roads or causeways improvised by means of with logs laid together transversely (usually to provide wheeled vehicles passage over swampy ground) dates from the 1780s.  Corduroy is a noun, verb & adjective, corduroying & corduroyed are verbs and corduroylike is an adjective; the noun plural is corduroys.

1975 Mercedes-Benz 450 SEL 6.9 (V116, 1975-1980) trimmed in classic 1970s brown corduroy.

The top-of-the-range variant of the W116 (1972-1980 and the first formerly to be styled "S-class"), the 6.9 had been slated for release in 1974 but introduction was delayed a year because of the first "oil crisis".  It used a version of the 600's (W100, 1963-1981) M100 V8, enlarged from the 6.3 litre (386 cubic inch) unit used in the 300 SEL 6.3 (1967-1972) to 6.8 (417).  Unfortunately, uncertainty over the future of the oil supply (and the consequent effect on the world economy) meant the 7.4 litre (452 cubic inch) version of the V8 never left the drawing board.  Very few 6.9 sold outside of Europe were trimmed in cloth, leather almost universal in most markets.  

By the 1960s most Mercedes-Benz were being trimmed in their famously durable MB-Tex, a robust vinyl which was not only easy to maintain but closely resembled leather, lacking only the aroma (and third-party manufacturers soon made available aerosols for those who found the olfactory appeal too much to forgo).  However, leather and velour (of mohair in the most exclusive lines) were either standard or optional on more expensive models and when exported to first-world markets beyond Europe (such as North America or Australia), MB-Tex or leather was standard and the fabrics were available only by special order.  A notable exception was the Japanese market where buyers disliked the way their prized “car doilies” slid of the hide; they always preferred cloth.  The velour was certainly better suited to harsh northern European winters and testers would often comment on how invitingly comfortable were the seats trimmed in the fabric.  To add to the durability, the surfaces subject to the highest wear (ie those at the edges on which there was the most lateral movement during ingress and egress) used a corduroy finish (the centre panels also trimmed thus, just for symmetry).

A just completed corduroy road constructed by the Wehrmacht’s (German military, 1935-1945) Pioniertruppen (Pioneer troops, who performed similar duties to sappers or combat engineers in other armies), the photograph said to have been taken in 1942 in the Eastern Front’s Volkhov sector during the Continuation War (1941-1944 and known also as the Second Soviet–Finnish War).  Although labour-intensive, the attraction of the corduroy road was if the logs were conveniently to hand and manpower was available, functional roads could be built more quickly than any other method.  On the Eastern Front, the Wehrmacht usually had ready access to forests and prisoners who could be used as forced-labour so many corduroy roads were built and their need was anticipated by some of the staff who planned the invasion of Russia, well away two of the greatest threats they would face would be "Major Mud" and "General Winter".  Unfortunately for them, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) envisaged the campaign being successfully concluded before the winter of 1941-1942 and the German forces were equipped neither for the cold nor the impassable conditions. 

The corduroy road (a more recent name for the “log road” or “log track”) gained its name from the appearance; the logs arrayed in the perpendicular, thereby, when viewed at a distance, resembling the fabric.  Because in concept a corduroy road is essentially a deck or floor writ large, on a small (certainly domestic) scale such things doubtless existed thousands of years ago but in the sense of “major thoroughfares”, excavations suggest they’ve been in use since at least the eleventh century although it seems clear some were constructed atop existing pathways, presumably at times when the weather conditions rendered the surface impassable.  Timber of course can rot but certain types were very long-lasting and in some soils (especially the more acidic) the logs could retain their integrity for decades and, in the pre-motorized era, they were not subject to the heavy loads or high speeds which would come in the twentieth century.  For obvious reasons, many corduroy roads were constructed during wartime by military engineers and the term “corduroy road” is also used in slang to refer to a rutted-road in a poor state of repair.

Foxbat

Foxbat or fox-bat (pronounced foks-bat)

(1) As Foxbat, the NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization) reporting name for the Soviet-era MiG-25 (Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-25) high-altitude supersonic interceptor and reconnaissance aircraft.

(2) A common name for members of the Megachiroptera (the Pteropus (suborder Yinpterochiroptera), a genus of megabats), some of the largest bats in the world.

Fox is from the Middle English fox, from the Old English fox (fox), from the Proto-West Germanic fuhs, from the Proto-Germanic fuhsaz (fox), from the primitive Indo-European púḱsos (the tailed one), derive possibly from puḱ- (tail).  It was cognate with the Scots fox (fox), the West Frisian foks (fox), the Fering-Öömrang North Frisian foos, the Sölring and Heligoland fos, the Dutch vos (fox), the Low German vos (fox), the German Fuchs (fox), the Icelandic fóa (fox), the Tocharian B päkā (tail, chowrie), the Russian пух (pux) (down, fluff), the Sanskrit पुच्छ (púccha) (source of the Torwali پوش‎ (pūš) (fox) and the Hindi पूंछ (pūñch) (tai”).

Bat in the context of the animal was a dialectal variant (akin to the dialectal Swedish natt-batta) of the Middle English bake & balke, from the North Germanic. The Scandinavian forms were the Old Swedish natbakka, the Old Danish nathbakkæ (literally “night-flapper”) and the Old Norse leðrblaka (literally “leather-flapper”).  The Old English word for the animal was hreremus, from hreran (to shake) and it was known also as the rattle-mouse, an old dialectal word for "bat", attested from the late sixteenth century.  A more rare form, noted from the 1540s, was flitter-mouse (the variants were flinder-mouse & flicker-mouse) in imitation of the German fledermaus (bat) from the Old High German fledaron (to flutter).  In Middle English “bat” and “old bat” were used as a (derogatory) term to describe an old woman, perhaps a suggestion of witchcraft rather than a link to bat as "a prostitute who plies her trade by night".  It’s ancient slang and one etymologist noted the French equivalent hirondelle de nuit (night swallow) was "more poetic".  To “bat the eylids” is an Americanism from 1847, an extended of the earlier (1610s) meaning "flutter (the wings) as a hawk", a variant of bate.  Fox-bat is a noun; the noun plural is fox-bats.  When used of the MiG-25 (as "Foxbat", the NATO reporting name), it's a proper noun and thus used with an initial capital.

Fox-bat in flight.

The term fox-bat or flying fox, (genus Pteropus), covers some sixty-five bat species found on tropical islands from Madagascar to Australia and north through Indonesia and mainland Asia.  Most species are primarily nocturnal and are the largest bats, some attaining a wingspan of 5 feet (1.5 m) with an overall body length of some 16 inches (400 mm).  Zoologists list fox-bats as “Old World fruit bats” (family Pteropodidae) that roost in large numbers and eat fruit and are thus a potential pest, many countries restricting their importation.  Like nearly all Old World fruit bats, flying foxes use sight rather than echolocation, a physiological process for locating distant or invisible objects (such as prey) by means of sound waves reflected back to the emitter by the objects) to navigate, despite the largely nocturnal habit of most species.  In the database maintained by the International Union for Conservation of Nature and Natural Resources (IUCN), about half of all flying fox species are listed as suffering declining populations, 15 said to be vulnerable and 11 endangered. The fox-bats were previously classified in the suborder Megachiroptera, but most researchers now place them in the suborder Yinpterochiroptera, which also contains the superfamily Rhinolophoidea, a diverse group that includes horseshoe bats, trident bats, mouse-tailed bats, and others.

MiG-25 (Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-25).

Once the most controversial fighter in the skies, there was so much mystery surrounding the MiG-25 that US, British and NATO planners spent years spying on it with a mixture of awe and dread.  Conceived originally by Soviet designers to counter the threat posed by Boeing’s B-70 Valkyrie bomber, development continued even after the B70 project, rendered redundant by advances in missile technology, was cancelled.  First flown in 1964 and entering service in 1970, nearly 1200 were built and were operated by several nations as well as the USSR.  Able (still) to outrun any other fighter, only the US Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird was faster but fewer than three dozen of those were built and those were configured only for strategic reconnaissance.  When first the West became aware of the Foxbat, it caused quite a stir because, combining stunningly high speed with high altitude tolerance and a heavy weapons load, it did appear to be the long-feared platform which would render Soviet airspace immune from US penetration.  It was the threat the Foxbat was thought to pose which was influential in the direction pursued by US engineers when developing the McDonnell Douglas F15.

A brunette-phase Lindsay Lohan in MiG-25 Foxbat T-shirt, rendered by Vovsoft as pen drawing.

The Foxbat however never realized its apparently awesome implications. Because the original design brief was to produce a device which could combat the fast, high-flying B-70, many of the characteristics desirable in a short-range interceptor were neglected in the quest for something which could get very high, very quickly.  At that it was a breathtakingly successful but there were compromises, the fuel burn was epic and, with a very high take-off and landing speed, it could operate only from the longest runways.  Still, at what it was good at it was really good and its very presence meant the US had to plan any mission within range of a Foxbat, cognizant of the threat it was thought to present.  Unbeknown to the West, at lower altitudes it presented little threat and was no dog-fighter; it was essentially a dragster built for the skies, faster in a straight line than just about anything but really not good at turning.  Its design philosophy was essentially the same as the Lockheed F-104 Starfighter, a US supersonic interceptor which first flew in 1954 with over 2,500 built and supplied to many air forces, the last of which wasn’t retired from active service until 2004.  An uncompromising machine built for speed, pilots dubbed it the “winged missile” and that assessment was not unrelated to it later gaining the nickname “widow-maker”; those who flew the thing described the characteristics it exhibited in low speed turns as: “banking with intent to turn”.

It wasn’t until 1976 when a Soviet defector landed a new Foxbat in Japan in 1976 that US engineers were able to examine the airframe and draw an understanding of its capabilities.  What their analysis found was that the limitations in Soviet metallurgy and manufacturing techniques had resulted in a heavy airframe, one which really couldn’t maneuver at high speeds, and handled poorly at low altitudes. The surprisingly primitive radar was of limited effectiveness in conventional combat situations against enemy fighters, which, combined with the low altitude clumsiness meant that its drawbacks tended to outweigh the advantage it had in sheer speed at altitude, something which meant less to the US since missiles had replaced the B-70 strategic bomber (which never entered production).

In its rare combat outings, those advantages did however confer the occasional benefit.  In 1971, a Soviet Foxbat operating out of Egypt used its afterburners to sustain Mach 3 for an extended duration, enabling it to outrun three pursuing Israeli F4-Phantoms and one downed a US Navy F/A-18 Hornet during the first Gulf War (1991).  During the Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988), the Iraqi Air Force found them effective against old, slow machinery but sustained heavy losses when confronted with the Iran’s agile F-14 but most celebrated was probably the Foxbat’s success during the Gulf War in claiming both of the last two American aircraft lost in air-to-air combat.  Otherwise, the Foxbat has at low altitude proved vulnerable, the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) shooting down several in the war over Lebanon (1981) although they have of late been used, most improbably, in a ground attack role in the Syrian Civil War, the Syrian Arab Air Force, lacking a more appropriate platform, pressing the Foxbats into a ground support role, in at least one case using air-to-air missiles to attack ground targets.  The Soviet designers took note of the operating environment when developing the Foxbat’s successor, the MiG-31 (NATO reporting name Foxhound), a variant which sacrificed a little of the pure speed and climb-rate in order to produce a better all-round fighter.

Usually unrelated: 1957 Morris Minor Traveller (left) and 1960 Jaguar XK150 FHC (right).  Stations wagons with wood frames (real and fake) are in the US called "woodies" but the spelling "woody" also appears in UK use.  Although between 1968-1973, there were “badge-engineered” Versions of the Minor’s commercial derivatives sold as the Austin 6cwt & 8cwt Van & Pick up, all the “woodies” were Morris Travellers.

Although for the whole of the Jaguar XK150’s production run (1957-1961) the Morris Minor Traveller (1952-1973) was also being made in factories never more than between 20-60 odd miles (32-100 km) distant, so different in form and function were the two it’s rare they’re discussed in the same context.  One was powered by an engine which had five times won the Le Mans 24 hour endurance classic while the other was one of several commercially-oriented variants of a small, post-war economy car, introduced in the austere England of 1948.  The Traveller did however have charm and it was also authentic in its construction, the varnished ash genuinely structural, an exoskeleton which provided the strength while the panels behind were there just to keep out the rain.  By contrast, by the mid-1950s, the US manufacturers had abandoned the method and produced “woodies” with a combination of fibreglass (fake timber) and DI-NOC, (Diurno Nocturna, from the Spanish, literally “daytime-nighttime” and translated for marketing purposes as “beautiful day & night”) appliqué, an embossed vinyl or polyolefin material with a pressure-sensitive adhesive backing produced since the 1930s and perfected by Minnesota Mining & Manufacturing (3M).

In phased releases over 1957-1958, Jaguar made available the usual three versions of its XK sports car, the DHC (drophead coupé, a style which elsewhere was usually called a cabriolet or convertible) and FHC (fixed head coupé, ie coupé), later joined by the more minimalist OTS (open two-seater, a roadster) and the line was a link between flowing lines of the inter-war years and the new world, celebrated by the E-Type (1961-1974) which created such a sensation upon debut at the 1961 Geneva Motor Show.  One sometimes unappreciated connection between the XKs (XK120: 1948-1954, XK140: 1954-1957 & XK150: 1957-1961) and E-Type is neither was envisaged as the long-term model both became.  The XK120 had been shown at the 1948 London Motor show with the purpose of drawing attention to the new XK straight-six (which would serve in vehicles as diverse as racing cars, limousines and fire engines until 1992) but such was the public response it was added to the factory catalogue, the early models hurriedly built in aluminium to satisfy demand.  Later, Jaguar hadn't believed there would be a market for more than a few hundred E-Types so it was not designed in a way optimized for mass-production which was embarked upon only because demand was so high.  Many of the car's quirks and compromises remained part of the structure until the end of production more than a decade later.   

Minor modification: 1960 Jaguar XK150 3.4 Shooting Brake (“Foxbat”).

The Morris Minor Traveller was the last true woodie in production and is now a thing in the lower reaches of the collector market but there's one less available for fans because of a sacrifice to a project by industrial chemist and noted Jaguar enthusiast, the late Geoffrey Stevens, construction undertaken between 1975-1977. He wanted the Jaguar XK150 shooting brake the factory never made so blended an XK150 FHC with the rear compartment of a Morris Minor Traveller of similar vintage.  Mr Stevens in 1976 dubbed his creation “Foxbat” because, just as a MiG-25 landing in Japan was an event so unexpected it made headlines around the world, he suspected that in the circles he moved, a timber-framed XK150 shooting brake would be as much a surprise.  In that he proved correct and the unique shooting brake has been restored as a charming monument to English eccentricity, even the usually uncompromising originality police among the Jaguar community (mostly) fond of it.  In a nice touch (and typical of an engineer’s attention to detail), a “Foxbat” badge was hand-cut, matching the original Jaguar script.  Other than the hybrid coach-work, the XK150 is otherwise “matching-numbers” (chassis number S825106DN; engine number V7435-8).   

On the Wings of a Russian Foxbat: Deep Purple bootleg, 1977.

The origin of the term “bootlegging” dates from the late eighteenth century when it was used by British customs and excise officers to describe the trick smugglers used hiding valuables in their large sea-boots.  Since then, it’s been applied variously including (1) the distilling, transporting and selling of unlawful liquor (2) unlicensed copies of software and (3) unauthorized recordings of music and film.  In music, bootleg recordings began to appear in some volume in the 1960s and originally were often from live performances.  Often created from tapes of dubious quality with little or no editing, these bootlegs generally were tolerated by the industry because they tended to circulate among fans who anyway purchased the official product and were thought of just a form of free promotional material.  Later, when things became more organized and bootleggers began distributing replicas of official releases, the attitude changed and for decades the software industry fought ongoing battles against bootleg copies (which in some non-Western markets represented in excess of 90% of installations).

On the Wings of a Russian Foxbat, re-released (in re-mastered form with bonus tracks) in 1995 as Live in California, Long Beach Arena, 1976.

Taken from a performance by the English heavy metal band Deep Purple at the Long Beach Arena, Los Angeles on 27 February 1976, the bootleg On the Wings of a Russian Foxbat was released in 1977 and was another example of the effect on popular culture of the Soviet pilot’s defection.  The link with the event in Japan was that the quality of the band’s performance was unexpectedly good, their reputation at the time not good (they would break-up only weeks after the Long Beach show).  Additionally, the sound quality was outstanding (certainly by the usual bootleg standards), something not then easy to achieve in an outdoor venue with a raucous audience.  Curiously, the original On the Wings of a Russian Foxbat bootleg used for the cover art a picture of unsmiling soldiers from the PLA (People’s Liberation Army) from the Republic of China (then usually called “Red China” or “Communist China); presumably the bootleggers decided the star on the caps was “sufficiently Russian”.  In 1995, re-mastered, the recording (with a few bundled “extras”) was re-issued as an “official” release, the fate of many a bootleg with a cult-following.  With memories of the diplomatic incident in 1976 having faded, although On the Wings of a Russian Foxbat still appeared on the cover, the album was marketed as Live in California, Long Beach Arena, 1976.