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Friday, October 2, 2026

Ghost

Ghost (pronounced gohst)

(1) The soul of a dead person, a disembodied spirit imagined, usually as a vague, shadowy or evanescent form, as wandering among or haunting living persons.

(2) A mere shadow or semblance; a trace; a remote possibility; a faint trace or possibility of something.

(3) A spiritual being; the principle of life; soul; spirit (sometimes initial capital letter).

(4) A secondary image, especially one appearing on a television screen as a white shadow, caused by poor or double reception or by a defect in the receiver (also called ghosting).

(5) In photography, a faint secondary or out-of-focus image in a photographic print or negative resulting from reflections within the camera lens (also called ghost image).

(6) In optics, a series of false spectral lines produced by a diffraction grating with unevenly spaced lines.

(7) In metalworking, a streak appearing on a freshly machined piece of steel containing impurities.

(8) In pathology, a red blood cell having no hemoglobin.

(9) In tax-avoidance and other frauds, a fictitious employee, business etc, fabricated especially for the purpose of manipulating funds.

(10) In literature (especially quasi-literature), as ghost-write, to write a book, speech etc for another without attribution (distinct from the trade of the acknowledged ghostwriter).

(11) In engraving, to lighten the background of a photograph before engraving.

(12) In informal use (often associated with social media), suddenly to end all contact with a person without explanation, especially a romantic relationship; abruptly to leave a social event or gathering without saying goodbye.

(13) In digital technology, to remove comments, threads, or other digital content from a website or online forum without informing the poster, keeping them hidden from the public but still visible to the poster.

(14) In bibliography, as ghost edition, an entry recorded in a bibliography of which no actual proof exists.

Pre 900: From the Middle English gost, gast & goost (breath; good or bad spirit, angel, demon; person, man, human being", in Biblical use "soul, spirit, life”), from the Old English gāst (breath, soul, spirit, ghost, being), related to the Old High German gaist & geist (spirit) and the Sanskrit hēda (fury, anger).  The Proto-West Germanic gaist was derived from the Proto-Germanic gaistaz (ghost, spirit, (source also of the Old Saxon gest, the Old Frisian jest, the Middle Dutch gheest, the Dutch geest & the German Geist (spirit, ghost))), from the primitive Indo-European ǵhéysd-os, from ǵhéysd- (anger, agitation) and was cognate with the Scots ghaist (ghost), the Saterland Frisian Gäist (spirit), the West Frisian geast (spirit), the Dutch geest (spirit, mind, ghost), the German Geist (spirit, mind, intellect), the Swedish gast (ghost), the Sanskrit हेड (héḍa), (anger, hatred) and the Persian زشت‎ (zešt) (ugly, hateful, disgusting).  There’s no documentary evidence but the ultimate root is conjectured to be the primitive Indo-European gheis-, used in forming words involving the notions of excitement, amazement, or fear (source also of Sanskrit hedah (wrath), the Avestan zaesha- (horrible, frightful), the Gothic usgaisjan and the Old English gæstan (to frighten).  Ghost is a noun & verb (and used imaginatively as an adjective), ghoster is a noun, ghostly & ghosty are adjectives, ghosting is a noun & verb and ghosted is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is ghosts.

Ghost is the English representative of West Germanic words for "supernatural being" and in Christian writings in Old English it was used to render the Latin spiritus, a sense preserved by the early translators of the Bible in “Holy Ghost”.  The sense of a "disembodied spirit of a dead person", especially imagined as wandering among the living or haunting them, is attested from the late fourteenth century, a meaning-shift which returned the word to what was its probable prehistoric sense.  Most Indo-European words for "soul or spirit" also double with reference to supernatural spirits.  Many have also a base sense of "appearance" (the Greek phantasma; the French spectre; the Polish widmo, from Old Church Slavonic videti (to see), the Old English scin, the Old High German giskin (originally "appearance, apparition”), related to the Old English scinan & the Old High German skinan (to shine)).  Other concepts exist, including the French revenant (literally "returning" (from the other world)), the Old Norse aptr-ganga, (literally "back-comer") & the Breton bugelnoz (literally "night-child”).  The Latin manes (spirits of the dead) was probably a euphemism.

The gh- spelling appeared early in the fifteenth century in Caxton, influenced by Flemish and Middle Dutch gheest, but was rare in English before mid-1500s.  The sense of a "slight suggestion, mere shadow or semblance" (as in ghost image, ghost of a chance etc) is noted from the 1610s; the sense of "one who secretly does work for another" is from 1884 and ghost-write was a 1922 back-formation from the earlier (1919) ghost-writing.  The American Indian ghost dance was first noted in 1890, ghost town is from 1908, ghost story dates from 1811, the now less common ghost-word (apparent word or false form in a manuscript due to a blunder) is from 1886.  The “ghost in the machine” was English philosopher Gilbert Ryle's (1900-1976) 1949 description of René Descartes's (1596-1650) mind-body dualism and the phrase "to give up the ghost" (to die or prepare to die) was well-known in the Old English version; one of the many way folk avoid words like "death" or "die".  Synonyms include phantom, devil, demon, soul, shadow, spectre, vision, vampire, apparition, revenant, appearance, haunt, visitor, shade, spook, poltergeist, phantasm, wraith, daemon & manes.  There are a surprising number of uses of ghost, ghosted, ghosting etc said to be associated modern or internet slang covering fields as diverse as linguistic techniques and the art & science of smoking weed, the latter a rich vein of coinings.  However, the most commonly used describes someone with whom one has been in contact suddenly stops responding, disappearing, as it were, like a ghost.  This can happen in conjunction with unfriending etc but can be an act in isolation.  After becoming one of a number of Australian prime ministers (figuratively) defenestrated by their party before the voters got their chance, Malcolm Turnbull (b 1954; prime minister of Australia 2015-2018) left parliament and decried similarly deposed leaders who chose to stay as "miserable ghosts", a breed with a long tradition in many parliaments.   

Ghostwriters

Art of the Deal by Donald J Trump with Tony Schwartz (1987).  If the Nobel Committee can't bring themselves to confer on President Trump the Peace Prize, they could perhaps make him the Literature Laureate.  He would think that equally deserved.

Ghostwriters (also as ghost-writer) are professional writers hired to create content (books, columns, posts or any other (traditionally) text-focused item), the authorship of which ultimately will be credited to another although ghostwriters can be acknowledged as “co-authors” or (more commonly), receive credit in the form of having their name appear on the cover with a preceding “with”.  That latter approach of course implies some form of collaborative authorship and a famous example is Donald Trump’s (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) The Art of the Deal (1987), published as “by Donald J. Trump with Tony Schwartz” [b 1952].  The Art of the Deal is said to be competently written and for those in the business of the ruthless pursuit of deals it’s apparently an invaluable manual, Mr Trump in one interview saying perhaps the most important passages those advising (1) most deals don’t come off and (2) it’s better to walk away from what appears a bad deal than to close it in the hope it can be made to work.  Had than counsel been followed, there’d likely have been rather fewer corporate collapses than have been suffered since it was published; there’s good reasons why The Art of the Deal stayed at number 1 on The New York Times Best Seller list for three months and was a on the list for a year odd.

One day, there may be Lindsay Lohan: The autobiography.  Hopefully, there will be competing "authorized" and "unauthorized" editions.

So what does “By X with Y” usually imply?  The conventional view is it means “Y” is likely to have composed much of the text, based on interviews with “X”, their previous statements or other things they may have written.  It’s the most common approach in the biographies of sports stars that appear in the run-up to Christmas or father’s day; those books often sell well although whether they’re so often read is uncertain.  By contrast, “By X and Y” should mean true co-authorship (though not necessarily on the basis of 50-50 contribution) whereas “X by Y” should be a pure biography (although that can be “authorized” with the cooperation of “X” or “unauthorized” with even “X’s” active opposition to publication).  The “with” category obviously is the most ambiguous and thus often the most useful for a subject, allowing them to bask in the praise of a work well-received yet provide a layer of “plausible deniability” if needed.  Ghostwriters are used for a number of reasons including constraints of time, a lack of interest in the project (though not the profits) or, typically, a lack of the necessary skill with the written word.  Ghostwriting contracts can vary but the focus typically includes terms of payment, non-disclosure of involvement, the notional author’s exercise of veto over all or some of the content and the rights to the finished work.  Mr Trump certainly acknowledged using a ghostwriter, as did Paris Hilton (b 1981) who in her 2023 memoir thanked the ghostwriter who: “helped me find my voice”.

Monsieur Sarközy (left) and his third wife (Italian supermodel Carla Bruni, b 1967, right) arrive at La Santé Prison, November 2025.  Ghostwritten or not, it's unfair to "judge a book by its cover" but 
Monsieur Sarközy always looked guilty of something.  

One who never needed help to "find his voice" was Nicolas Sarközy (b 1955; President of France 2007-2012) who even found symbolic ways to express his inner torments.  When, in October 2025, entering La Santé Prison in Montparnasse to begin a five-year sentence imposed for “criminal association” related to campaign financing (it was a conspiracy charge), as well as comfortable shoes and some nice warm jumpers, the former Le Président took a novel and made sure the assembled press pack knew it was a copy of Le Comte de Monte-Cristo (The Count of Monte Cristo, 1844-1946) by Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870)), one of literature’s great “tales of revenge”.  He's since been released pending an appeal hearing so he's got some time to plot and scheme his vengeance and decide upon whom it will first be visited.

It’s the disclosure of using a ghostwriter that is critical, even if the exact details of relative contributions to the text remain murky.  The French novelist and dramatist Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870) is best-known for Les Trois Mousquetaires (The Three Musketeers, 1844) and Le Comte de Monte-Cristo but, by his own reckoning, he published some 1,200 volumes, hiring a veritable corps of ghostwriters so the production of “his” works could proceed on an assembly-line basis (many famous painters did much the same, creating by the twentieth century a significant (and lucrative) industry of those in the "authentication" business).  His illegitimate son (Alexandre Dumas fils (1824–1895 (fils being French for “son”)) was also an author of note (best remembered for The Lady of the Camellias (1848 and Camille in English-language versions), adapted by Giuseppe Verdi (1813–1901) for his opera  La traviata (The Fallen Woman, 1853)) and when one day father and son met for lunch, Dumas the elder asked: ‘‘Have you read my new novel yet?”.  “No,” replied the younger man, “Have you?”

One ghostwriter not (explicitly) acknowledged was Theodore Chaikin "Ted" Sorensen (1928–2010; US lawyer, author & presidential adviser), now widely believed to have written the great bulk (and possibly all) of Profiles in Courage (1956), credited to John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; POTUS 1961-1963).  The slim volume displayed Sorensen’s fine touch with language but it was a slight work, a collection of eight, short biographical sketches describing acts of “bravery and integrity” by  DWM (dead white men who were now mostly forgotten US senators) and that it received the 1957 Pulitzer Prize for Biography was an indication more of the political sympathies of the selection committee than the work’s literary merit or historical significance.  Still, it was a minor contribution to history and Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017) accepted the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize, awarded apparently to express the Norwegian Nobel Committee’s gratitude he wasn’t George W Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; POTUS 2001-2009).  Even at the time the authorship of Profiles in Courage was controversial with some journalists openly accusing the then Senator Kennedy (Democrat-Massachusetts 1953-1960) of having done little more than put his name on the cover and accept a Pulitzer.  A fortnight after the award was announced, stories began to appear in the press casting doubt on the authorship and, within days, a check (cheque) was drawn against a Kennedy family trust in favour of Ted Sorensen for US$100,000-odd, a extraordinary sum wholly disproportionate to either the fee even well-paid ghostwriters would expect or the profits realised by Profiles in Courage.  Shamelessly (a Kennedy family trait), whether as a senator or POTUS, JFK would autograph copies of “his” book and personally hand them as gifts to visiting dignitaries.

Politicians of course have speechwriters and their contributions are usually well-publicized, some of the more-skilful (or more publicity-conscious) becoming minor celebrities, a thing sometimes resented by those for whom they write although, as a general principle, politicians are well-advised if they leave speech-writing to the pros.  During the 1969 election campaign, when discussing speechmaking, bizarrely, the idiosyncratic Sir John Gorton (1911-2002; prime minister of Australia 1968-1971), despite having at his finger-tips the entire resources of the Commonwealth government, complained that the leader of the Opposition’s (Gough Whitlam (1916–2014; Prime Minister of Australia 1972-1975) “…large staff—which I haven’t got—helps him.  You see, I have never delivered a speech that I haven’t written myself. I doubt very much if Mr Whitlam has ever delivered a speech he wrote himself.  I need some research assistance, some background speech notes and this is what [Mr Whitlam’s staff are] doing and that is all [they are] doing.”  When asked his reaction to Mr Gorton’s claim he wrote all his speeches himself, Mr Whitlam (who had spent the campaign lampooning Gorton’s frequent lapses into near incoherency) quipped: “That is one of the few prime ministerial statements of this election that I find credible.”

An artist's ghostly take on an unforgiving woman: Portrait of Lady Violet Bonham Carter (circa 1917), oil on canvas by Sir William Orpen (1878–1931).

It’s not only speeches that are written for politicians to deliver, much of that to which their signatures are appended the work of others including most correspondence and some ghostwriters manage to hone their style to emulate the distinctiveness of those for whom they labor.  Although he once claimed “Oh, I have not read a great deal”, Winston Churchill’s (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) literary output was prodigious, including even one novel (that proved great fun for Freudians interested in mother-son relationships) and yielded the 1953 Nobel Prize in Literature.  His style came to be called “Churchillian” and is recognizable (indeed, even in the 1930s it was thought old-fashioned) but it could also be replicated and, years after his death, it became more widely known his teams of “research assistants” genuinely were responsible for many first drafts and even the authorship of what were at the time described in terms like “rolling Churchillian phrases” but in fairness, in that he was not unique and he did review every word prior to publication, editing and polishing as required.  Sometimes the criticism of such practices can go too far.  When Lord Beaverbrook (Maxwell Aitken, 1879-1964), died, Churchill’s private secretary drafted a short message of condolence to be published in the next edition of The Times: “I am deeply grieved at the loss of my oldest and closest friend who severed his country and his causes valiantly and was the most loyal and devoted of comrades.”  As a message from an old man with not long to live to the memory of his friend of almost 60 years, it seemed not objectionable but an objection came from Lady Violet Bonham Carter, (1887–1969, daughter of Henry Asquith (1852–1928; UK prime minister 1908-1916)) who called the message “clearly political” and thus breaking his silence on such matters, a silence tacitly for some time erected due to his decline.  The secretary smoothed things over with her but she returned to the theme after seeing two messages sent in Churchill's name in support of the Conservative Party on the eve of the 1964 general election.  These she branded “forgeries”.  To this accusation the secretary responded with rather more ferocity, telling her: “I really do not think you should have used the word ‘forgery’ to me.  Sir Winston has had things drafted for him for many years, even when he was prime minister.  If they represent his views, and he signs them, they are not ‘forgeries’.”

C'était ça ou mourir (2026) by Thélyson Orélien.  How the Prix Goncourt's committee rules on this work may prove influential in the future of publishing.

That represents the current view of what's "drafting" rather than "forging" although it may take some time before texts created by generative AI (artificial intelligence) are granted the same approbation, a ghostwriter’s hand still human and, at least for a while, that still matters as one French committee recently concluded, removing from consideration for the 2026 Prix Goncourt (The Goncourt Prize) the novel C'était ça ou mourir (It Was Either That or Die, 2026) by Haitian-born Canadian novelist Thélyson Orélien (b 1988), the concerns being “plagiarism” and “the use of generative AI.”  Although Le prix Goncourt carries a merely symbolic purse of €10, it’s vested with genuine prestige and is associated with a spike in sales so is worth winning.  Monsieur Orélien denies the accusations and the matter is attracting attention because it’s a sign of things to come, literary prize committees among the many institutions that will need to formulate protocols to determine where legitimate use of AI (research, grammar checks, formatting etc) ends and concepts like plagiarism, appropriation and “non-authorship” begins.  It was the English philosopher Gilbert Ryle (1900–1976) who, in The Concept of Mind (1949), when discussing the notion of dualism explored by the French philosopher René Descartes (1596–1650), introduced the phrase “ghost in the machine” and that was better to illustrate for modern readers his critique of the Cartesian position of the mind being distinct from the body with physical and mental activities occurring “simultaneously but separately”.  Mind-body dualism had a long run in Western philosophy and can again be re-considered because we’ve come a long way and with generative AI, the "ghostwriter is now the machine" and these agents clearly have “opinions” so not only are they writing, increasingly, they are “deciding” what to write.  The problems confronting such committees seem insoluble so the fudge may be the creation of new literary prizes for AI generated works and there’s no reason why the committees and juries shouldn’t at least in part be made up of AI agents.

Holy Ghost vs Holy Spirit in Biblical Translation

Pentecostés (Pentecost, circa 1545), oil on canvas by Tiziano Vecelli (or Vecellio), (circa 1489-1576; known in English as Titian), basalica of Santa Maria della Salute, Venice.  The Christian holy day of Pentecost (celebrated 50 days after Easter Sunday) commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles and other followers of Jesus Christ while they were in Jerusalem celebrating the Feast of Weeks.

The Trinity is one of Christianity’s central doctrines, the unity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as three persons in the one Godhead.  One of the most important Christian affirmations about God, it’s rooted in the idea God came to meet Christians in a threefold figure: (1) as Creator, Lord of the history of salvation, Father, and Judge, as revealed in the Old Testament; (2) as the Lord who, in the incarnated figure of Jesus Christ, lived among human beings and was present in their midst as the “Resurrected One”; and (3) as the Holy Spirit, whom they experienced as the helper or intercessor in the power of the new life.  In the Roman Catholic Church, the Sign of the Cross is made in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  It’s a myth that prior to Vatican II (the Second Vatican Council 1962-1965), the Third Person of the Trinity was always referred to in English as the Holy Ghost and one of the council’s decisions was to replace this with Holy Spirit.  Although it’s true Pius XII (1876–1958, pope 1939-1958) authorized several bilingual rites that included Holy Spirit, this was merely procedural and a formalization of processes for the publishing of new editions of existing works. Well before the twentieth century, the shift to Holy Spirit had become almost universal in translation although use of the older form persisted because of the reverence for tradition among some congregations (if not always the clergy) and a fondness, particularly in the Anglican community, for earlier translations, especially the Book of Common Prayer (1549-1622) and the King James version of the Bible (KJV: 1611).

Pentecôte (Pentecost, 1732), oil on canvas by Jean Restout (1692–1768), Louvre Museum, Paris.

The change reflects the evolution of words but, as a matter of Christian theology, "Holy Ghost" and "Holy Spirit" mean exactly the same thing.  The early translators were influenced by ghost being of Germanic origin and, as the Old English gast inherited the original meaning “soul, life, breath, good or bad spirit, angel or demon”, they used gast to translate the Latin Spiritus: thus Holy Ghost.  Although the more modern sense of a disembodied dead person dates from the late fourteenth century, it long remained rare and when translating the Bible into English the scholars behind the KJV opted mostly to use Holy Ghost which enjoys 90 entries compared with seven for Holy Spirit (between translators it's thought there were only linguistic and not doctrinal differences).  Either as literature or theology, there’s nothing in the texts to suggest any difference of meaning between the two, the conclusion of biblical scholars being the choices were wholly arbitrary and probably an unintentional consequence of the KJV being translated from the Greek into English by different committees.  One committee translated hagion pneuma as Holy Spirit while the other preferred Holy Ghost and when the work of the two bodies was combined, the differences remained.  In English, the meaning shift of ghost was induced essentially by its adoption in literature and popular culture, the sense long universally understood to be that of the spectre of a deceased person or a demonic apparition, hardly an association the church found helpful.  It hasn’t wholly been replaced however, some editions of the Book of Common Prayer still are printed with the phrase “He may receive the benefits of absolution, together with ghostly counsel and advice, to the quieting of his conscience.”

Unrelated to etymological matters however, there is one fine theological point about the Trinity.  It took some time for the Patristic Fathers (the early Christian writers of the period generally considered to run from the end of New Testament times or end of the Apostolic Age (circa 100 AD) to either the Council of Chalcedon (451 AD) or the Second Council of Nicaea (787 AD)) to work out the Trinity was three persons, but one God.  The Old Testament foretold the visit to earthly life of the Messiah, but did not name him explicitly as Jesus, seeing the Holy Spirit as a manifestation of God, but did not see Him as a separate person of the one Godhead.  Despite the implications of that, at least since the still influential Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430), it’s never been an orthodox view the Old Testament should be thought incomplete.  Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022), always one to find a fine theological point, noted “Christians do not read the Old Testament for its own sake but always with Christ and through Christ, as a voyage to Truth through continuing Revelation.”

Rolls-Royce and Ghosts, ancient & modern

A century-odd apart: 1902 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost (left) and Paris Hilton's 2010 Rolls-Royce Ghost (right).

Although for model names Rolls-Royce has borrowed from the atlas (Corniche, Camargue), their most frequent source has been the spirit world (Ghost, Phantom, Wraith,  Spectre) and the Silver Ghost (1906-1926) was the car that cemented the company's reputation for quality.  Sometime during its life, it may well have deserved to be regarded "the best car in the world" and while that term a long ago ceased to be useful, Rolls-Royce have at times justified the tag "best-made cars in the world".  Some might have matched the quality of the fit and finish but it's doubtful many have ever done it better and such was the reputation the Silver Ghost quickly gained that the name (coined by the Autocar magazine and not the factory) overtook the line.  Originally, the Silver Ghost had been but one model in a range available on their standard (40/50 hp) chassis but the name so captured the public imagination that, eventually, the factory relented and when the first of the Phantom line was released in 1926, Silver Ghost for all the 40/50 cars it became.  Perhaps surprisingly, although in the subsequent century there were many uses of the "silver" element (Silver Wraith, Silver Dawn, Silver Cloud, Silver Shadow, Silver Spirit, Silver Spur & Silver Seraph), it wasn't until 2009 the "Ghost" name was revived and (since 2021 in its second generation), it remains in production, the line augmented in 2011 by the Ghost EWB (extended wheelbase).  Plenty of manufacturers have over the years listed LWB (long wheelbase) models but EWB was a genuinely novel abbreviation, the factory not commenting on whether LWB had become "a bit common" or it was just a piece of "product differentiation".      

RAF (Royal Air Force) Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost armored car, Iraq, circa 1936.

The Silver Ghost also had what may seem an improbable career as a military vehicle, the factory eventually building 120 armored cars on the chassis, a role to which it was well-suited because famously it was robust enough to survive the often rough roads throughout the British Empire.  Although the period of intended service on the Western Front during World War I (1914-1918) was shortened when the "war of movement" anticipated upon the outbreak of hostilities quickly gave way to effectively static trench warfare, the machines proved ideally suited to the conditions in the Middle East, the most famous the squadron used by T.E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia; 1888–1935) in battles against Ottoman forces during World War I.  What the British discovered was the tactics the Royal Navy honed at sea for 300-odd years could be applied to motorized operations across vast sandy stretches, detachments of armored cars able to be handled like squadrons of destroyers.  Lawrence remarked the Rolls-Royces were “more valuable than rubies” in desert combat and that he’d be content with one for the rest of his life were it to be supplied with tyres and petrol, the big, heavy Ghosts prone voraciously to chew through both.  In many parts of the empire, numbers of the armoured cars remained in service well into the 1930s (valued especially by the Raj in India) and the last was retired from service with the Irish Free State only in 1944, new tyres having become unobtainable.

Monday, August 31, 2026

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) As “doodlebugger”, a dowser (divining rod) or similar device supposedly useful in locating underground water, hydrocarbons, minerals etc.  By extension, the word was applied to geophysicists or geologists undertaking field work (especially oil prospecting or mineral exploration); they were said to be doodlebugging.

(5) In World War II (1939-1945) UK slang, the German cruise missile the V1, (Fs-103), also known informally 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.

(6) In US rural slang, as “doodlebug tractor”, a car or light truck converted into tractor used (usually for small-scale agriculture), first noted as a type during the Great Depression years of the 1930s.  During World War II, the improvisation continued because new tractors were in short supply because most production was allocated to the military. 

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

(8) Any of various small, squat vehicles (as both nickname and official designation).

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

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

(11) In informal use, an idiot (as used casually rather than in its once codified sense in mental health).

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

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 connection 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, the intention being to poke fun at their rebellious opponents; that didn't work out well.  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 (as 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.  The hyphenated doodle-bug has appeared and Urban Dictionary has the usual array of alternative, user-generated meanings.  Doodlebug, doodlebugging & doodlebugger are nouns; the noun plural is doodlebugs.

A doodled Volkswagen “bug” on Drawn Inside.

Bug dates from 1615–1625, the original use being 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) but 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 apparent sense (ie remove a bug, and thus synonymous with the modern “debug”), it doesn’t exist whereas forms such as the adjectives unbugged (not bugged) and unbuggable (not able to be bugged) are listed 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 nightmarish thought 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 influenza” pandemic.

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 ground, 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 as it once was codified 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” usuing more orthodox prospecting techniques.  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 (petrol) (in the US, it was the the pre-diesel era) and electricity; they were an attractive alternative for operators, being much cheaper to run than the combination of large locomotives & carriage cars, eminently suited to routes with lower passenger numbers.  The concept may be compared with the smaller (often propeller or turbo-prop) aircraft used for shuttle services or on regional & feeder routes where demand be sufficient to make viable the use of larger airliners.  Although the doodlebugs carried relatively 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 (truck) 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, smaller-scale farmers (then more prevalent than today) in the US no longer had the capital (or access to loan-capital) to purchase plant and equipment on the same scale as in more prosperous times but needed still to make their land productive, a essential tool being the tractor, one of modernity's many devices which greatly had increased the efficiency of agriculture.  New tractors being thus for many being unattainable, necessity compelled farmers 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 in the US always used 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 informal industry of the doodlebug end.

1946 Brogan Doodlebug (right) with 1942 Pontiac Torpedo (left).  In the US, some passenger car production continued in the first quarter of 1942. 

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 offering “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 socio-economic symbol of suburban American of the 1950s) and the delivery companies needed larger capacity.  As the Volkswagen Beetle (Type 1, 1938-2003) 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 (although various factors would see later revivals).  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 every day churning out thousands of “standard sized” cars.

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 or the sun was harsh).  It used a three wheeled chassis with the single wheel at the front, articulated so the vehicle could turn within its own length making parking easy, the thing barely 96 inches (2,440 mm) in length & 40 inches (1,020 mm) wide; weighing only some 442 lbs (200 kg), it was light enough for two strong men to pick it up and move it (a characteristic with both advantages and drawbacks).  Powered by either a single or twin-cylinder rear-mounted engine (both rated at a heady 10 HP (horsepower ), no gearbox was deemed necessary, thus no tiresome gear levers or clutch pedals intruded to confuse women drivers.   B&B claimed a fuel consumption up to 70 mpg (84 mpg in Imperial gallons) 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 was 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 (a configuration offering much better stability); it was no more successful and the company turned to golf carts and scooters; that proved 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; Nazi Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda 1933-1945) decided it was the V-1 (understood as “vengeance weapon 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.

V-1 falling on London, 13 June, 1944, the location identifiable by the roofline of the city’s courts of law.  Not until 29 March, 1945 did the UK suffer its last V-1 strike, that final doodlebug falling to ground in Datchworth, Hertfordshire.

Shot from a Fleet-Street roof-top air-raid warning observation post, the image captures a V-1 in profile during the final seconds of its descent.  Accurate enough only for the target to be “London”, this one fell on a side road off Drury Lane, the warhead’s explosion damaging several buildings including the offices of The Daily Herald newspaper.  Long associated with the British Labour Party (and the labor movement more generally) The Daily Herald was published between 1912-1964 (always as a daily except during World War I (1914-1918) when there was only a weekly edition) and for a time in the 1930s it was the newspaper with the world’s highest audited circulation, peaking at over two million with a readership several times that number.  Despite a number of changes in ownership and editorial focus, it was for all its existence very much an organ of the labour movement and broadly supportive (though not uncritical) of the Labour Party, something that didn’t change in 1964 when it was re-launched as The Sun.  The real change came in 1969 when the by then ailing title was bought by Rupert Murdoch (b 1931), after which it (and the tabloid market) was never quite the same.  The pre-internet state of the UK’s once vibrant newspaper business was summarised by an anonymous advertising copywriter whose thoughts appeared in the book Newspaper Money by economists Fred Hirsch (1931–1978) and David Gordon (b 1942):

The Times is read by the people who run the country.

The Guardian is read by the people who would like to run the country.

The Financial Times is read by the people who own the country.

The Daily Telegraph is read by the people who remember the country as it used to be.

The Daily Express is read by the people who think the country is still like that.

The Daily Mail is read by the wives of the men who run the country.

The Daily Mirror (which itself once tried to run the country) is read by the people who think they run the country.

The Morning Star is read by the people who would like another country to run the country.

The Sun-well, Murdoch has found a gap in the market - the oldest gap in the world.