Meconium

Meconium (pronounced mi-koh-nee-uhm)

(1) In medicine, the first fecal excretion of a newborn child, composed chiefly of bile, mucus, and epithelial cells; it accumulates in the fetal intestines, manifesting as dark green mucoid material.

(2) In zoology, a dark green mass, the contents of the fetal intestines during the later stages of mammalian gestation, that forms the first feces of the newborn

(3) In entomology, the fecal mass released at pupation by the larvae of some insects.

(4) The milky sap of the unripe seed pods of the opium poppy; crude opium, sometimes called opium juice.

(5) Slang for opium (obsolete).

1595–1605: From the New Latin, from Classical Latin mēcōnium (opium; excrement of a newborn child), from the Ancient Greek μηκώνιον (mēkṓnion) (poppy-juice; opium”), from μήκων (mḗkōn) (poppy).  The Ancient Greek mēkōnion & mēkōn may be related to the Old Church Slavonic maku & the German Mohn and many etymologists support this although it’s not impossible both are of pre-Greek origin, one noting the consensus among botanists that the opium poppy is of Mediterranean origin and the word may later have entered the primitive lndo-European at a later date.  The fecal discharge was so called by classical physicians for its resemblance to the pappy sap, the notion later adopted by entomologists and zoologists to describe the same phenomenon respectively in some insects and mammals.  In chemistry, meconin is an anhydride of meconinic acid (found in opium).  The adjective meconic was first documented in the sense of “pertaining to or derived from the poppy” in 1818 in reference to an acid obtained from opium, and the French meconine exists in the literature as an alternative to the English form meconin.  However, it’s noted meconic may long have been in oral use among physicians.  In Hellenic medicine, mēkōnion came to be used to describe an infant's first excrement because of similarity in colour to the sap of the opium poppy (mēkōn) that had long been so-named.  In human gestation (and of mammals generally & even some insects), a little of the substance called meconium collects lower in the intestines and is discharged at birth.  Meconium is a noun and meconic & meconial are adjectives and (perhaps thankfully), it seems there's no adverb; the noun plural is meconiums.

One charming linguistic coincidence is that the anagram of meconium (baby shit) is encomium, meaning, inter alia, “a formal speech delivering praise”, the connection between the two not unfamiliar to those who have heard many such insincere orations.  Economium was from the Latin encōmium (praise, eulogy), from the Ancient Greek ἐγκώμιον (enkṓmion) (laudatory ode, praise), from ἐγκώμιος (enkṓmios) (of or pertaining to the victor), from κῶμος (kômos), (festival, revel, ode).  One obstetrician nominated the Ferrari paint color Verde Medio Nijinsky (medium green Nijinsky (Italver)) as a fine way to illustrate to medical students the shade of green a healthy infant’s meconium should display.  A Ferrari so finished will be more pleasing than a photograph (and certainly a sample) of the real thing.

Lester Piggott in green, red & yellow silks, aboard Nijinsky, 1970.

The Ferrari factory named Verde Medio Nijinsky after Nijinsky (Nijinsky II, 1967–1992, by Northern Dancer out of Flaming Page), a Canadian-bred, Irish-trained thoroughbred.  In 1970, trained by Vincent O'Brien (1917-2009) and ridden by Lester Piggott (1935–2022), he was the twelfth winner of the English Triple Crown (run since 1853 and comprising (1) the 2,000 Guineas Stakes (run over 1 mile (1.6 km) at Newmarket, (2) the Derby (1 mile, 4 furlongs & 10 yards (2,423 m) at Epsom & the St Leger Stakes (1 mile, 6 furlongs & 132 yards (2,937 m) at Town Moor)).  No horse has since won the English Triple Crown and Aidan O'Brien (b 1969), who in 1996 took over Vincent O'Brien’s Ballydoyle stables, was not related to his predecessor.  The link between horse and factory paint chart was in the colors of the silks worn by the jockey; Piggott’s shade of green chosen for Verde Medio Nijinsky.  Ferrari during the 1960s offered almost thirty colors named after thoroughbreds, a few of the more lyrical being Bianco Tetratema (1.441.110), Grigio Ortello (2.443.813), Blu Caracalla (2.666.901), Blu Turchese Molvedo (2.443.632) & Verde Sea-Bird (2.665.902).

Major Count Francesco Baracca with his SPAD S-XIII (left), the prancing horse on the fuselage based of that on his family’s coat of arms (right).

The link between horses and the Cavallino Rampante ((little) prancing horse) escutcheon chosen by Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) for both the Scuderia Ferrari team and later the cars he would build lies in a meeting il Commendatore had with the mother of Major Count Francesco Baracca (1888–1918), Italy's top fighter ace of World War I (1914-1918).  The count had emblazoned on the side of his aircraft a horse rearing on its rear hooves, a stylized variation of that which appeared on his family’s coat of arms and in Italian heraldry the prancing horse was of some significance, dating from 1692 when it appeared on the standard of Victor Amadeus II (1666–1732; Duke of Savoy 1675-1730 & King of Piedmont-Sardinia 1720-1730) of Savoy’s Royal Piedmont cavalry regiment.  The horse on the fuselage originally was red, the black version appearing on one of the count’s surviving fighters following his death in aerial combat.  A myth later arose Rolls-Royce had followed the precedent, switching the lettering on their radiator emblem from red to black to mark the death in 1933 of Sir Henry Royce (1863-1933) but although usually red, Rolls-Royce often had used black and other colors; the change in 1933 was aesthetic rather than romantic, the feeling that a dark hue would better suit the colors owners tended to choose for the coach-work and Sir Henry had endorsed the decision well before his death.  It was mere coincidence he died the same year as the change.

Alfa Romeo 8C Monza, Spa Francorchamps, Belgium, 1932.

Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) and Giulio Ramponi (1902–1986) in June 1923 won the first Grand Prix at the Savio Circuit in Ravenna, driving an Alfa Romeo RL-Targa Florio.  As part of the ceremony following the race, Count Enrco Baracca (1855-1936), father of the aviator, "entrusted" Ferrari with the image of the prancing horse to carry on the memory of his late son, later introducing him to the pilot’s mother, Countess Paolina Baracca.  It was the countess who suggested adding the symbol to his cars, assuring him it would bring good luck.  Alfa-Romeo’s corporate policies prevented an immediate use of the prancing horse but, in 1929, Enzo Ferrari created Auto Avio Costruzioni (later to become Scuderia Ferrari) as a separate racing team although one still affiliated with Alfa Romeo and permission finally was received for the symbol to adorn the cars.  On that very day in 1932, fielding a pair of Alfa-Romeo 8C Monzas at Belgium’s Spa Francorchamps, the scuderia was again victorious, vindicating the faith the countess had shown and the prancing horse continued to be displayed until 1939 when Ferrari began his own car-making operation.  Squabbles and the war intervened but in 1947, Ferrari displayed the 125S (1.5 litre (91 cubic inch) Colombo V12, thus 125 cm³ per cylinder, the origin of the factory’s original convention for model names) with the equine logo, although subtly modified, the tail now upturned (al la the Baracca coat of arms) the beast more sinuous and the background the canary yellow of Modena where il Commendatore had based his operation.  The prancing horse has adorned every Ferrari since.

1972 Ferrari 365 GTC/4 (left) in Verde Medio Nijinsky over beige leather (left) and Ferrari 365 GTB/4 Coupé (right) in Rosso Corsa (Racing Red) over tan leather (right).

Although one of the minor classics of the era, the 365 GTC/4 lives still in the shadow of the illustrious 365 GTB/4 with which, mechanically, it shares much.  The GTB/4 picked up the nickname “Daytona”, an opportunistic association given 1-2-3 finish in the 1967 24 Hours of Daytona involved three entirely different Ferraris while the GTC/4 enjoyed only the less complementary recognition of being labeled by some il gobbone (the hunchback) or quello alla banana (the banana one).  It was an unfair slight and under the anyway elegant skin the GTC/4 shared much with & GTB/4, the engine of the former differing mainly in lacking the dry-sump lubrication and the use of six twin-choke side-draft Weber carburetors rather than the down-drafts, this permitting a lower hood (bonnet) line.  Revisions to the cylinder heads allowed the GTC/4's V12 to be tuned to deliver torque across a broader range rather than the focus on top-end power that made the GTB/4 so intoxicating.  One quirk in the specification of the Daytona was, unusually for a front-engined car, it used a rear-mounted transaxle to provide optimal weight distribution, reflecting the quest for as close to perfect a weight-distribution as was possible with the front-engine configuration. 

Runner-up & winner, 2015 Miss Universe Contest.  Ariadna María Gutiérrez Arévalo (b 1993), Miss Colombia 2014 & first runner-up (left) and Pia Alonzo Wurtzbach (b 1989), Miss Philippines 2015 & Miss Universe 2015 (right).  

Criticizing the GTC/4 because it doesn’t quite have the visceral appeal of the GTB/4 seems rather like casually dismissing the model who managed only to be runner-up to Miss Universe.  The two cars anyway, despite sharing a platform with the same wheelbase and track, were intended for different purposes, the GTB/4 a high performance road car able, with relatively few modifications, to be competitive in racing whereas the GTC/4 was a grand tourer, even offering occasional rear seating for two (short or uncomplaining) people.  One footnote in the history of the marque is the GTC/4 was the last Ferrari offered with the lovely Borrani triple-laced wire wheels; some GTB/4s had them fitted by the factory and a few more were added by dealers but the factory advised that with increasing weight, tyres with much superior grip and higher speeds, they were, which subject to extreme loadings, no longer strong enough and the cast aluminum units should be fitted for use in environments without speed restrictions such as race tracks or certain de-restricted public roads (then seen mostly in the Middle East, the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany, 1949-1990), Montana & Nevada in the US and Australia's Northern Territory & outback NSW (New South Wales)).  A Ferrari in Verde Medio Nijinsky is a rarity but does illustrate how well colors other than the dominant red can suit the lines; a Ferrari in white or navy blue can be a revelation.

Verde Medio Nijinsky is a neglected color: 1972 Ferrari 365 GTC/4 (left), a matching Lindsay Lohan (centre), rendered with generative AI (artificial intelligence) as “The Incredible Hulk” by Stable Diffusion (centre) and 1974 Dino 246 GTS (right); Ferrari finished only three Dino 246s in Verde Medio Nijinsky and it's one of those colors greatly affected by the light in which it stands, something photographers must account for although modern digital post-production techniques have now made possible the emulate the outdoors inside and vice versa.

Whatever color she wore, Cinderella was a hard act to follow.  As a design, the still much-neglected GTC/4 really should be compared with the other big 2+2 coupés of the era (exotic and otherwise) rather than the Daytona; whatever the extent of the mechanical similarity, the GTB/4 was a thing of a certain time and place that both allowed and dictated something more uncompromising in what proved an "end-of-an-era" moment.  Still stunning the GTB/4 was the evolutionary apex of its species; it can't be improved upon but the GTC/4 was no ugly sister and when contemplating quello alla banana, one might reflect on the sexiness of the fruit.  The Daytona’s shark-like lines and extreme nature have such an allure it’s the front-engined V12 Ferrari of the era collectors have always sought; despite between 1968-1973 production running to 1406 (1284 coupés & 122 Spyders (roadsters), it typically now sells for several times the price of a 364 GTC/4 in equivalent condition, 505 of which left the line between 1971-1972.  The market is neither right nor wrong, the market is the market and the customer is always right.

Cover of Candy-O (1979) by The Cars (left) and the photograph on which the cover-art was based (right).

Years after production ended, the 365 GTC/4 did earn an unusual place in the history of pop culture when a line-art rendering of one appeared on the cover of Candy-O, the second album by US rock band The Cars (formed 1976).  The artwork was created by Peruvian-American painter of pin-ups Alberto Vargas (1896–1982) who, as well as being acknowledged as the definitive exponent of what came to be called “cheesecake girls”, was between 1956-1958, a judge for the Miss Universe beauty contest.  Mr Vargas came out of retirement for the commission, enticed apparently by a niece who was a fan of the music, something with which he was at the time wholly unacquainted.  The artist’s technique required a photograph on which an image could be based so a photo-shoot was arranged at a nearby Ferrari dealership which, perhaps surprisingly, agreed to have the statuesque, stiletto clad model sprawl over the hood of a 365 GTC/4 then on the lot.  There’s no record of damage to the Rosso Nearco paint so all's well that ends well.  Nearco (1935–1957) was a famous Italian thoroughbred and the factory paint code was 2.664.032; it was a subtly-metallic shade of red rather darker than the classic Rosso Corsa.

Candy Moore adorning Ferrari 365 GTC/4 in Rosso Nearco, Candy-O photo shoot session, Beverly Hills, Los Angeles, 1979.  This was the pre-digital era and photographers used physical film stock although the highly flammable celluloid had by then been replaced by acetate-based “safety film”.

The model in the photo shoot (a substitute after the original had second thoughts upon seeing the scantiness of the outfit) was Candy Moore (who later appeared in the movie Lunch Wagon (1981)) but the name was a coincidence, the album’s title (and sixth track on side one of the original release) locked in long before the shoot.  As is usually the case with photo-shoots, many images were taken and one of the determining factors in the choice was its compositional suitability for use on the 12.375 inch (314.3 mm) square format of album art, the one selected among the last on the roll.  Mr Vargas, being a cheesecake artist, of course used a little licence in his interpretation and (with all due respect to the lovely Ms Moore) few would claim his enhancements don’t add to the appeal.  The other coincidence attached to the model’s name is she’s often confused with the actress Candace Lee Klaasen (b 1947) who worked under the stage name Candy Moore, appearing in well-known television series including Leave It to Beaver, and The Lucy Show.  Surprisingly, even the usually accurate IMDb (Internet Movie Database) once got the two mixed up; the entry has since been corrected.

Sketch

Sketch (pronounced skech)

(1) A simply or hastily executed drawing or painting, especially a preliminary one, giving the essential features without the details, later to be elaborated.

(2) A rough design, plan, or draft, as of a book.

(3) A brief or hasty outline of facts, occurrences etc.

(4) As thumbnail sketch, a piece of text which summaries someone or something.

(5) A short, usually descriptive, essay, history, or story.

(6) A short play or slight dramatic performance, as one forming part of a variety or vaudeville program; a short comedy routine (a skit).

(7) To make a sketch.

(8) To summarize, to set forth in a brief or general account.

(9) In metallurgy, to mark a piece of metal for cutting.

(10) In music, a short evocative instrumental piece, used especially with compositions for the piano.

(11) In the slang of the Irish criminal class, as “to keep (a) sketch), to maintain a lookout; to be vigilant; watch for something.

(12) In journalism, as parliamentary sketch, a newspaper article summarizing political events which attempts to make serious points in a lest than obviously serious manner (mostly UK).

(13) In category theory, a formal specification of a mathematical structure or a data type described in terms of a graph and diagrams (and cones (and cocones)) on it. It can be implemented by means of “models” (functors) which are graph homomorphisms from the formal specification to categories such that the diagrams become commutative, the cones become limiting (ie products) and the cocones become colimiting (ie sums).

1660–1670: From the Dutch schets (noun), from the Italian schizzo, from the Latin schedium (extemporaneous poem), noun use of neuter of schedius (extempore; hastily made), from the Ancient Greek σχέδιος (skhédios) (made suddenly, off-hand, unprepared), from σχεδόν (skhedón) (near, nearby), from ἔχω (ékhō) (I hold).  The German Skizze, the French esquisse & the Spanish esquicio are also from the Italian schizzo.  Sketch,  sketcher, sketchist & sketchiness are nouns, verb & adjective, sketching is a noun & verb, sketched is a verb, sketchlike, sketchy, sketchier, sketchiest & sketchable are adjectives, and sketchily & sketchingly are adverbs; the noun plural is sketches.  When a sketcher (or sketchist) sketches their sketches, they appear often in a sketchbook.

Six photographs of Lindsay Lohan, rendered in software as pencil sketches.

Sketch became a verb in the 1660s in the sense of “present the essential facts of" and was derived from the earlier noun. This idea of a sketch as a “brief account” by 1789 had enlarged to a "short play or performance, usually comic", still maintaining the connection from art as something less than full-scale, the reference to comedy suggesting something slight rather than a serious work.  The sketch-book was first recorded in 1820.  That sense extended beyond text to art and design from 1725 when it came also to mean "draw, portray in outline and partial shading", firstly to describe simple drawings, referring later to preparatory work for more elaborate creations.  The adjective sketchy is noted from 1805, describing art “having the form or character of a sketch".  The colloquial sense of "unsubstantial, imperfect, flimsy" is from 1878, possibly to convey the sense of something "unfinished".  Adumbrate (faint sketch, imperfect representation), actually pre-dates sketch, noted first in the 1550s.  It was from the Latin adumbrationem (nominative adumbratio) (a sketch in shadow, sketch, outline).  The meaning "to overshadow" is from the 1660s at which time emerged the derived forms adumbrated and adumbrating and related forms are adumbration (noun), adumbrative (adjective) and adumbratively (adverb).

Sketches by “Boz,” Illustrative of Every-day Life and Every-day People by Charles Dickens (1812-1870), illustrated by George Cruikshank (1792–1878).

Charles Dickens' first book, Sketches by “Boz” was a collection of 56 short pieces, originally published in various newspapers and other periodicals between 1833-1836. They were re-issued in a two-volume set in 1836 with a single edition appearing in 1839.  Very different from the work with which Dickens most is associated, the theme of 56 sketches was the people and scenes of London (the built environment best understood also as a “character” in the narratives.  Divided into four sections (Our Parish, Scenes, Characters & Tales), the first three contained non-narrative pen-portraits while the final wholly was fictional.  In Sketches by “Boz”, there are passages which constitute classic “thumbnail sketches” (in literature, concise, vivid descriptions (classically in a single paragraph of no more than a few sentences) that captures the fundamental essence, appearance, or personality of a character, setting or scene).  The term was a borrowing from the visual arts, where a thumbnail sketch was a quickly composed, rough drawing to map out an idea, the notion being it looked “sketchy enough to have been drawn by the artist's thumb”.  In both graphics and text, the shared definition was an entire concept rendered by the depiction of its most recognizable and striking elements with no extraneous detail.

The sketch (a short, often topical comedic performance) quickly became a staple of television variety shows and such productions have (thankfully) declined in number, the format is still used.  In literary theory, there are two basic categories of sketch: (1) a short prose piece (perhaps between one to two thousand words) which tends to be of the descriptive kind once most associated with newspapers and magazines (and still often appearing in the latter).  In newspapers, one notable survivor is the “parliamentary sketch” in which some (often anecdotal) “color” is added to political reporting.  A feature of British political journalism since the 1700s when the reporting of the antics of politicians was more restricted (to avoid the truth being told about the lies they told, that strategy seen still in the laws of defamation in some jurisdictions), many of the early parliamentary sketches used pseudonyms for those described and the art of a fine sketch writer was providing just enough for the well-informed reader to “read between the lines”.  In literary use, because of the nature of the form, stylistically some sketches could overlap with the short story and there's is little point attempting to be prescriptive about where one ends and the other begins; the classic example of a sketch was Charles Dickens's Sketches by "Boz", a series of sketches of life and manners.  (2) A brief dramatic piece of the kind one might find in a revue or as a curtain raiser or as part of some other kind of theatrical entertainment, exemplars being Harold Pinter's (1930-2008) Request Stop, Last to Go & Special Offer, performed in the revue Pieces of Eight, which opened at the Apollo Theatre, London, in September 1959.  For better or worse, ambitious monologists including Ruth Draper (1884-1956) and Joyce Grenville (1910-1979) extended the concept of the sketch into a particular dramatic form described as "a kind of monodrama".  Nor were sketches dependent on oral delivery, the solo mime artist Marcel Marceau (1923-2007) sometimes referring to his performances as un sketch dramatique (a dramatic sketch).

Sketches of Spain

Although not yet regarded as the landmark in jazz it would come to be in the decades which followed its release in 1959, even in 1960 Miles Davis’s (1926-1991) Kind of Blue had already created among some aficionados an expectation; realising it was something special, this was what they hoped would be the definitive Davis style and they were anxious for more.  The next release however, wasn’t indicative of what was to come, Workin' with the Miles Davis Quintet (1960 Cat# Prestige P-7166) was the third of four albums assembled from sessions recorded long before the Kind of Blue sessions and released to fulfil contractual obligations to the independent label Prestige.  Although some purists were pleased, after Kind of Blue, the music seemed old-fashioned.

Miles Davis, Kind of Blue, (1959, Columbia, Cat# CS 8163).

Davis had enjoyed considerable success in the 1950s but, needing the distribution and promotional network of a major label to reach a wider audience, he’d signed with Colombia (CBS internationally).  The early Colombia releases had been well received but it was the sixth, Kind of Blue, which made him a star beyond the world of jazz, the album selling in volumes unprecedented in the genre; to date, over four million copies are said to have been shipped.  Davis had been innovative before, his performance at the 1954 Newport Jazz Festival defining what had come to be called “hard bop” (a flavor of jazz influenced by other forms, especially rhythm and blues) but the appeal extended little beyond already established audiences.  What made Kind of Blue so significant was that Davis effectively invented modal jazz which shifted the technique from one where the players worked within a set chord progression to soloists creating melodies using modes which could be deployed alone or in multiples.  Musicians explain the significance of this as a movement to the horizontal (the scale) rather than the traditional vertical (the chord).  In the somewhat insular world of jazz, that would anyway have been interesting but the sound captivated those beyond and was a landmark in what would come to be known as musical fusion, the cross-fertilisation of sound and technique.  Among composers, fusion was nothing new but Kind of Blue realised its implications in a tight, seductive package.

Miles Davis, Sketches of Spain, (1959, Columbia, Cat# CS 8271).

Sketches of Spain too was a fusion but it was different to what had come before and was no attempt to be "Kind of Blue II".  For one thing, the sound was big, recorded in the famously cavernous converted church in Manhattan which for decades was Colombia’s recording studio.  Lined with old timber and with a ceiling which stretched 100 feet (30 m) high, technicians called it the “temple of sound” because of the extraordinary acoustic properties.  The ensemble too was big, a necessity because this time the fusion was with the orchestral, the long opening track an arrangement by Davis and Gil Evans (1912-1988) of the adagio movement of Joaquín Rodrigo’s (1901-1999) guitar concerto, Concierto de Aranjuez  (1939).  Such was the extent of the fusion there were traditionalists who doubted Sketches of Spain could still be called jazz; they saluted the virtuosity but seemed to miss the sometimes arcane complexities in construction inaccessible except to the knowing few.

Miles Davis, Bitches Brew (1970, CBS, Cat# S 66236).

The wider world however was entranced and technical progress needs also to be noted.  Colombia had recorded Davis before in the then still novel stereo but even fans acknowledged the mono pressings remained superior and it wasn’t until 1960, after extensive testing and the refinement of equipment that the technique had been perfected.  Sketches of Spain was lush or austere as the moment demanded, listeners new to stereo especially enchanted at being able to hear the sounds hanging in a three-dimensional space, each instrument a distinct object in time and place.  Nobody asked for mono after that.  Influential as it was, to Davis, Sketches of Spain was just another phase.  Ten years later, noting the increasingly sparse audiences in jazz clubs and aware a new generation had different sensibilities, Davis would fuse with other, more recent traditions and Bitches Brew would cast his shadow over a new decade.  A footnote to the change of direction Bitches Brew flagged came with the release of material from Davis's performance at the Isle of Wight Festival (1970) which included, inter alia, a 17 minute passage substantially from the album.  Noting the discursiveness, producers from Columbia contacted Davis and asked him what the piece should be titled.  "Call it anything" he told them, repeating the answer he'd given to the musicians at the Festival who had asked him what he was about to play.  Liking that, Colombia's literalists included the track Call it Anything when the album The First Great Rock Festivals of the Seventies (1971) was released.   

Scum

Scum (pronounced skuhm)

(1) A film or layer of foul or extraneous matter that forms on the surface of a liquid as a result of natural processes such as the greenish film of algae and similar vegetation on the surface of a stagnant pond.

(2) A layer of impure matter that forms on the surface of a liquid as the result of boiling or fermentation.

(3) As disparaging slang, a person though low, worthless, or evil (often as “scumbag” or “scumbucket”.

(4) Such persons collectively (often as “scum of the earth”).

(5) An alternative name for scoria, the slag or dross that remains after the smelting of metal from an ore.

1200–1250: From the Middle English scume, derived from the Middle Dutch schūme (foam, froth) cognate with German schaum, ultimately of Germanic origin, drawn from the Old High German scūm and Old French escume.  In Old Norse word was skum, thought derived from the primitive root (s)keu (to cover, conceal).  By the early fourteen century, the word scummer (shallow ladle for removing scum) had emerged in Middle Dutch, a borrowing from the Proto-Germanic skuma, the sense deteriorated from "thin layer atop liquid" to "film of dirt," then just "dirt" and from this use is derived the modern skim.  The meaning "lowest class of humanity" is from the 1580s; the familiar phrase “scum of the earth” from 1712.  In modern use, the English is scum, the French écume, the Spanish escuma, the Italian schiuma and the Dutch schuim.  Scum is a noun & verb, scumbag, scumbaggery, scumbagginess & scumbucket are nouns, and scumlike, scummy & scumbaggy are adjectives; the noun plural is scums.

Rendezvous: New Zealand-born cartoonist David Low's (1891-1963) famous take on the 1939 German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact.

The document usually is called the Nazi-Soviet Pact or Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact because it was signed by comrade Vyacheslav Molotov (1890–1986; Soviet foreign minister 1939-1949 & 1953-1956) and Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945).  To illustrate the pact's cynical nature, Low depicted Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945, left) exchanging artificial pleasantries with comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953, right) both knowing it was only a matter of time before their nations would be at war.  Although Low at the time couldn't have known it, comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) was not unaware of public opinion and when presented with the pact's draft text, decided the rather flowery preamble extoling German-Soviet friendship was just too absurd, telling the visiting delegation that "...after years of pouring buckets of shit over each-other...", it'd be more convincing were the document to be as formal as possible.  Sensational as news of the pact was in 1939, what became more notorious still was the appended "secret protocol" which defined the line of delineation by which Poland would be "carved-up" between Germany and the USSR after the German invasion.  Because of geography and demographic reality, the line on the map was remarkably close to the Curzon Line, first proposed in 1919 by Lord Curzon (1859–1925; Viceroy of India 1899-1905 & UK Foreign Secretary 1919-1924) as the border between Soviet Russia and a reconstituted Poland.

Cautiously, comrade Stalin waited a couple of weeks to ensure the German victory was secure before sending the Red Army over the border, an act the Poles would remember as "a stab in the back".  The defense counsel at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) obtained a copy of the secret protocol and attempted to have it introduced as evidence but the judges denied the motion, the compromise being it could be referred to but the contents could not be discussed.  The irony of two Soviet judges dealing with the charges of a conspiracy to wage aggressive war (Count 1) and waging aggressive war (Count 2) when knowledge of the secret protocol (a conspiracy to invade Poland) was afoot attracted much comment.  One unmoved by the perception of cynicism was comrade Stalin for whom all politics was realpolitik.  At the Yalta Conference in February 1945, during the difficult negotiations over Polish borders, Molotov habitually would refer to “the Curzon Line” and the UK foreign secretary, Anthony Eden (1897–1977; thrice UK foreign secretary & prime minister 1955-1957), in a not untypically bitchy barb, observed the more common practice was to call it “the Molotov-Ribbentrop line”.  “Call it whatever you like” replied Stalin, “we still think it's fair and just”.  Rarely did comrade Stalin much care to conceal the nature of the regime he crafted in his own image.      

 

The Society for Cutting Up Men: The S.C.U.M. Manifesto

S.C.U.M. Manifesto (post shooting, 1968 paperback Edition).

Although celebrated in popular culture as the summer of love, not everyone shared the hippie vibe in 1967.  The S.C.U.M. Manifesto was a radical feminist position paper by Valerie Solanas (1936-1988), self-published in 1967 with a commercial print-run a year later.  Although lacking robust theoretical underpinnings and criticized widely within the movement, it remains both feminism’s purest and most uncompromising work and an enduring landmark in the history of anarchist publishing.  In the abstract, S.C.U.M. suggested little more than the parlous state of the word being the fault of men, it was the task of women to repair the damage and this could be undertaken only if men were exterminated from planet Earth.  The internal logic was perfect.

As well as the Society for Cutting Up Men, Acronym Finder’s list of the use of SCUM as an acronym includes (1) Subculture Urban Marketing, (2) Santa Clara United Methodist, (3) Sensitive Caring Urban Male (though being one of those wouldn’t save them and they’re as likely (after ordering their Venti Iced Caramel Macchiato with almond milk and an extra shot of espresso) as a (4) Self-Centered Urban Male to get Solanas’ “six-inch blade” between the ribs), (5) Southern California Unified Malacologists (malacology is the study of molluscs), (6) South Coast United Motorcyclist and (7) Socialist Cover-Up Media (how Fox News and those in the MAGA (Make America Great Again) cult think of the “fake news media).

The use of Scum as an acronym for Society for Cutting Up Men existed in printed form from 1967 (though not in the manifesto’s text) although Solanas later denied the connection, adding that S.C.U.M. never existed as an organization and was just “…a literary device”.  The latter does appear true, S.C.U.M. never having a structure or membership, operating more as Solanas’ catchy marketing label for her views; dubbing it a literary device might seem pretentious but, given her world-view, descending to the mercantile would have felt grubby.  That said, when selling the original manifesto, women were charged US$1, men US$2.  While perhaps not as elegant an opening passage as a Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778) might have penned, Solanas’ words were certainly succinct.  "Life in this society being, at best, an utter bore and no aspect of society being at all relevant to women, there remains to civic-minded, responsible, thrill-seeking females only to overthrow the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete automation and eliminate the male sex.”  Ominously, “If S.C.U.M. ever strikes” she added, “it will be in the dark with a six-inch blade.”  No ambiguity there, men would know what to expect.

On set, 1967, Andy Warhol (1928-1987) & Nico (1938-1988).

Author and work were still little-known outside anarchist circles when, on 3 June 1968, Solanas attempted to murder pop-artist Andy Warhol, firing three shots, one finding the target.  The year 1968 was in the US a time of violence and tumult but amid it all, the celebrity connection and the bizarre circumstances ensured this one crime would attract widespread coverage.  Valerie Solanas with her two guns had entered Mr Warhol’s sixth-floor office at 33 Union Square West convinced he was intent on stealing the manuscript of the play Up Your Ass she’d repeatedly tried to persuade him to produce.  Warhol and his staff had reviewed the work and decided it simply wasn’t very good (Warhol giving the the back-handed compliment of it being "well-typed") but because he’d “misplaced” the manuscript (it was later discovered in a trunk) Solanas concluded that was just a trick and he was going to steal what she thought of as her brilliant play, claiming it as her own.  Although she’d for some time hovered around the fringes of the Warhol “Factory”, she seems not to have had much success as an advocate.  Her S.C.U.M. Manifesto envisioned a world without men which was at the time heady stuff with a certain mid-1960s appeal but Warhol also declined her offer to become a member of the Scum’s “Men’s Auxiliary” (a group for men sufficiently sympathetic to Scum’s aims to begin “working diligently to eliminate themselves.”)  As offers go, it really wasn't compelling.

New York Daily News, 4 June 1968.

Not best pleased by the headline, “Actress Shoots Andy Warhol”, Solanas demanded a retraction claiming that she was "a writer, not an actress."  The paper had based the headline on her appearance in Warhol's films I, a Man (1967) and Bike Boy (1967).  Warhol later admitted he'd cast her in I, a Man (for which she received a US$25 fee) in the hope she'd stop nagging him about the play she'd written.  She never complained about anything else the press wrote about her but apparently the label "actress" was beyond the pale.

Solanas’ state of mind about the fate of her intellectual property can be explained by it being no secret Warhol was inclined to “use” (the words “borrow”, “appropriate” “steal” also often used but “sample” was not yet a thing) and rebrand it all as “his art”.  For weeks leading up to the attempt on his life, repeatedly she’d called his office with first requests and then demands about her manuscript, culminating with threats at which point Warhol stopped taking her calls; the next call she made was in person and she shot him and an art gallery owner with who he was discussing an exhibition (he (as collateral damage) received minor injuries); Warhol was declared dead but paramedics arrived to stabilize him.  Calmly, Solanas left the building and several hours later, approached a policeman in Times Square, handed over her two guns and told him: “He had too much control over my life.”  Unsurprisingly, a judge ordered a psychiatric evaluation and she received a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia but despite this, she was found competent to stand trial and pleaded guilty to “reckless assault with intent to harm”; sentenced to three years incarceration (including time served) in the Matteawan Hospital for the Criminally Insane (1892-1977); she was released late in 1971.  Solanas never renounced the S.C.U.M. manifesto nor lost faith in its capacity to change the world but her her mental health continued to decline and reports indicate she became increasingly paranoid and unstable. She spent her last years in a single-occupancy welfare hotel in San Francisco, where, alone, she died in 1988, the official cause of death listed as "pneumonia".  

  

A (fake) montage of Lindsay Lohan as Andy Warhol (1928–1987) might have rendered.  Ms Lohan was not yet 12 months old when Warhol died (the start of her modeling career still two years off) but had he lived another two decades he'd almost certainly have painted her.

Ms Solanas' infamy lasted beyond fifteen minutes and one unintended consequence of her act was the S.C.U.M. Manifesto finally finding a commercial publisher, thus becoming what is publishing is known as succès de scandale (a work which owes its success or very existence to some notoriety or scandalous element).  In certain feminist and anarchist circles she remains a cult figure although, it takes some intellectual gymnastics to trace a lineal path from her manifesto to the work of even the more radical of the later-wave feminists such as Andrea Dworkin (1946-2005), Susan Brownmiller (b 1935) or Catharine MacKinnon (b 1946).  Solanas to this day still is usually described as a “feminist” or “radical feminist” but, given the implication of the manifesto, it would seem more accurate to label her a misandrist (one who exhibits a hatred of or a prejudice against men), a world view which attracts many because, to be fair, there are any number of reasons to hate men.  Although one suspects among women the "all men are bastards" school of thought is ancient, the noun "misandry" was a late nineteenth century formation, the construct being mis- (in the sense of “hatred”) +‎ -andry (men), by analogy with the more commonly used misogyny (hatred of or a prejudice against women); the inspiration was the Ancient Greek μισανδρία (misandría), the construct being μισέω (miséō) (hate) + ἀνήρ (anḗr) (man).

Cause and effect: The (attempted) murder weapon (Beretta M1935 automatic in .32ACP, left) and Warhol's post-operative torso (right).

Warhol required surgery to his spleen, stomach, liver, esophagus and lungs; the damage he suffered to a range of internal organs not uncommon among those shot at close range; the bullet ricocheted off a rib, accounting for the lateral trajectory.  Although the Beretta M1935 automatic (in .32ACP) she used is not regarded as a “big calibre” (the .32 listed by most as a “small bore”), a single shot from one, especially at close-range, can be lethal and an wound from even a smaller load (like the .22 she was also carrying) can be fatal.  In the context of handguns, a “big calibre” load usually is defined as one with a diameter of .40 inches (10mm) or larger and of those there are many including .44, .45 & .50 although “magnum” versions of smaller bore ammunition (.22, .357 etc) can match many larger loads in “stopping power”.  Interviewed later, Warhol reflected: “Before I was shot [June, 1968], I always thought that I was more half-there than all-there - I always suspected that I was watching TV instead of living life. People sometimes say that the way things happen in the movies is unreal, but actually it’s the way things happen to you in life that’s unreal. The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it’s like watching television - you don’t feel anything. Right when I was being shot and ever since, I knew that I was watching television. The channels switch, but it’s all television.”

Gun (1982), synthetic polymer paint and silkscreen ink on canvas by Andy Warhol.

Artistically, the shooting had consequences.  Warhol became more guarded, abandoning projects like filmmaking which required so much contact with people and stopping the production of controversial art which might attract more murderous types and focusing on business, in 1969 founding what in 1969 became Interview magazine.  Although there had in his previous output been evidence of an interest in death and violence, after the shooting, often he would visited the theme of death, painting a series of skulls and one of guns, a weapon with which he now had an intensely personal connection.  He was certainly not unaware what happened that day in June 1968 was a turning point in his life, some twenty years later noting in his diary: “I said that I wasn’t creative since I was shot, because after that I stopped seeing creepy people.”