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Showing posts sorted by date for query Dream. Sort by relevance Show all posts

Wednesday, April 15, 2026

Daughter

Daughter (pronounced daw-ter)

(1) A female child or person in relation to her parents.

(2) Any female descendant (now rare).

(3) A person said to be related to an institution as if by the ties binding daughter to parent (daughter of the church; Daughters of the American Revolution etc).

(4) Any female (archaic in the English-speaking world but used sometimes by some cultures to indicate some closeness of family relationship, rather as aunt & uncle are sometimes used in the West).

(5) Any institution or other thing personified as female and considered with respect to its origin (eg Australia is the daughter of the six colonies).

(6) In chemistry & physics (of a nuclide), an isotope formed by radioactive decay of another isotope.

(7) In biology, pertaining to a cell or other structure arising from division or replication (eg the daughter cell; daughter DNA).

(8) As daughterboard, IBM’s original descriptor for boards (now called piggyback boards, riser cards or mezzanine boards) which directly (usually by soldering) connect to motherboards (now called main or system-boards).

(9) In historical linguistics, as daughter language (known also as a descendant language), a language descended from another (its mother language) through genetic descent as opposed to a "sister language" which is one which also evolved from the proto- mother language but formed a separate branch.  The model is that of a tree where the mother language is the trunk and the branches the daughters and sisters (each of which can have their own daughters and sisters).  The image of the tree represents the diversification of languages from a root source.

(10) In fantasy writing, as merdaughter, a mermaid daughter.

(11) In slang, as “daughter of Sappho”, a lesbian.

Pre 950: From the Middle English goghter & doughter, from the Old English dohtor (female child considered with reference to her parents; daughter) from the Proto-West Germanic dohter, from the Proto-Germanic dokhter and the earlier dhutēr, from the primitive Indo-European dughtr, source also of the Sanskrit duhitā & duhitar-, the Avestan dugeda-, the Armenian dustr, the Old Church Slavonic dušti, the Lithuanian duktė and the Ancient Greek thygátēr & thugatēr).  The Proto-Germanic forms were the source also of the Old Saxon dohtar, the Old Norse dóttir, the Old Frisian and Dutch dochter, the Old High German tohter, the German Tochter and the Gothic dauhtar.  Daughter, daughterhood, daughtership & daughterling are nouns and daughterless, daughtered, daughterly & daughterlike are adjectives; the noun plural is daughters or daughtren (archaic).

Dutiful daughter: Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) with daughter Ivanka Trump (b 1981;  senior advisor in the first Trump administration 2017-2021) in an extended (stretch) Lincoln Continental limousine, New York City, circa 1992.

The common Indo-European word was lost in Celtic and Latin; the Latin filia (daughter) is the feminine form of filius (son), the most obvious connection in Modern English being young female horses: a filly is a beast under four and thus too young to be a mare and filly is still used as humorous and affectionate slang to refer to a lively girl or young woman.  The modern spelling evolved in the sixteenth century in southern England.  In late Old English, the form also emerged of a "woman viewed in some analogous relationship" (to her native country, church, culture etc and that use persists to this day) and from circa 1200 could be used to describe anything regarded as feminine.  Daughter-in-law is attested from the late fourteenth century.  The noun plural is daughters, the long archaic form being daughtren and the last surviving obsolete spelling was dafter.  The adjective daughterly (relating to or characteristic of a daughter) is technically neutral but has long denoted “dutiful (towards parents)”, the “dutiful daughter” a frequent reference in English literature, often to damn those judged insufficiently dutiful although in the English-speaking world there was never much of a tradition of "honor killing" as still practiced east of Suez; daughters who disappointed the family might variously be disinherited or ostracized but they were allowed to live.  As well as dutiful, daughters can be difficult and Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; POTUS 1901-1909) was once asked by some Republican Party apparatchiks to "control his daughter" (Alice Lee Roosevelt Longworth (1884–1980) who had a mind of her own).  He replied he "could be president of the United States or he could control Alice but he could not do both."  

The noun step-daughter was from the Old English stepdohtor, the formation aligned with the German Stieftochter.  Grand-daughter, like the related forms to describe recent ancestors and relations dates from 1610.  The noun god-daughter (female godchild, girl one sponsors at her baptism) was adopted in the mid-thirteenth century as a modification of the Old English goddohtor.  The noun filicide (action of killing a son or daughter) dates from the 1660s, the construct being the Latin filius/filia (son/daughter) + -cide (a killing), the meaning extended after 1823 to "one who kills a son or daughter", filicidal appearing shortly after.  Bathsheba was the Biblical wife of King David, mother of Solomon, from the Hebrew Bathshebha (literally "daughter of the oath" from bath (daughter)).

Lindsay Lohan: Confessions of a Broken Heart (Daughter to Father).

I wait for the postman to bring me a letter
I wait for the good Lord to make me feel better
And I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders
A family in crisis that only grows older

Why'd you have to go
Why'd you have to go
Why'd you have to go

Daughter to father, daughter to father
I am broken but I am hoping
Daughter to father, daughter to father
I am crying, a part of me is dying and
These are, these are
The confessions of a broken heart

And I wear all your old clothes; your polo sweater
I dream of another you the one who would never, never
Leave me alone to pick up the pieces
A daddy to hold me, that's what I needed

So why'd you have to go
Why'd you have to go
Why'd you have to go

Daughter to father, daughter to father
I don't know you, but I still want to
Daughter to father, daughter to father
Tell me the truth, did you ever love me'
Cause these are, these are
The confessions of a broken heart, of a broken heart

I love you
I love you
I love you
I, I love you

Daughter to father, daughter to father
I don't know you, but I still want to
Daughter to father, daughter to father
Tell me the truth, did you ever love me'
Did you ever love me?
These are
The confessions of a broken heart, oh yeah

And I wait for the postman to bring me a letter

Songwriters: Kara Dioguardi (b 1970), Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) & William Wells (b 1973).  Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music.  From the album A Little More Personal (Raw) (2005).

Kim Ju Ae, First Daughter of the DPRK

Donald Trump is by all accounts a good father and no doubt gave his daughters the odd tour of the hotels and real-estate developments which are the core of the family business but as daddy-daughter days go, they probably weren’t as much fun as those arranged for Kim Ju Ae (b circa 2013) by Kim Jong Un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011).  Like just about everything else done by the Supreme Leader, his daddy-daughter days are well-publicized by the KCNA (Korean Central News Agency) and Kim Ju Ae had been seen accompanying her father while inspecting nuclear warheads, watching ICBM (inter-continental ballistic missile) launches and reviewing military parades although the most recent highlight was of her driving a battle-tank on manoeuvres over a plain (she seemed to be having fun).  With an elaborate headquarters located at 1 Potonggang-dong in Pyongyang's Potonggang District) the KCNA may be the world's most productive state news agency and is the best source for new Kim Jong Un content.  Of course, Mr Trump is commander-in-chief of the world’s best-equipped military and, if so minded, could on next daddy-daughter day take his daughters tank-driving although their enthusiasm for such things may be restrained.

Daddy-daughter day.  DPRK postage stamp issued in 2018 to mark Kim Ju Ae’s presence at a military base where ICBMs were being displayed.  Like many young girls, Kim Ju Ae is much taken by the beauty of nuclear weapons.

Although not discussed by the KCNA, there has in the West been speculation Kim Ju Ae is being groomed to succeed Kim Jong Un as leader of the DPRK (and thus become Kim IV) should (God forbid) the Supreme Leader drop dead.  One important aspect of the succession would be the choice of title to be granted to Kim IV, not a minor matter in the DPRK where the personality cult of the leaders has so assiduously been cultivated.  The DPRK’s leadership titles are not arbitrary honorifics; they are components of the Suryŏng system, a carefully managed political theology blending Confucian familial hierarchy, Marxist terminology and quasi-religious veneration. Structurally, the key functional term is 령도자 / 지도자 (leader), the adjectives chosen to mark legitimacy, continuity, and distinction and thus far the nomenclature has included:

Kim Il Sung (Kim I): 위대한 수령 (Widaehan Suryŏng); “Great Leader, 1948-1994”.

Kim Jong Il (Kim II): 친애하는 지도자 (Chin’aehan Jidoja); “Dear Leader, 1994-2011”.

Kim Jong Un (Kim III):  최고령도자 (Ch’oe-go Ryŏngdoja); “Supreme Leader since 2011”.

Were Kim Ju Ae to be elevated as successor, it would be the first time since the formation of the DPRK in 1948 that the leadership would be held by a woman but on forums in the RoK (Republic of Korea (the "puppet state" of South Korea)), users seems to think this not significant and that it was at least possible the “Supreme Leader” epithet might be re-used, the argument being (1) “Supreme Leader” has become accepted as the apex designation, (2) institutional continuity would be maintained and (3) it would conform with the dynamics of 삼대세습 (三代世襲, samdae sesŭp), the construct being 삼대 (三代) (three generations) +세습 (世襲) (hereditary succession).  In Korea, the “three-generation hereditary succession” of the Kim dynasty is the Great Leader / Dear Leader / Supreme Leader sequence and for various reasons it’s unthinkable that the “Great Leader” title could be re-used because part of Kim gamily mystique (of which much has been manufactured) is that as the founder of the DPRK, Kim Il Sung is and must remain unique.

Daddy-daughter day.  KCNA official image of Kim Ju Ae’s driving a Cheonma-2 (M2024) third generation main battle tank, March, 2026.

Indeed, despite being three decades dead, Kim Il Sung remains president.  Kim Il-sung held an array of titles during his decades as the DPRK’s dictator, the proliferation not unusual in communist nations where the ruling party’s structures are maintained alongside the formal titles of state with which a nation maintains relations with the rest of the world.  In office for a remarkable 45 years, he was designated premier (head of government) between 1948-1972 and president 1972-1994.  Additionally, he was between 1949-1994 head of the WPK (Workers' Party of Korea) and in that role was styled successively as chairman (1949-1966) and general secretary (after 1966).  During his 45-year rule, there were ten POTUSs, six RoK presidents, nine British prime ministers and ten Australian prime ministers and his tenure in office spanned the era of the Soviet Union from its apotheosis under comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) to its collapse in 1991.

Daddy-daughter day. DPRK postage stamp issued in 2018 to mark Kim Ju Ae’s presence at a military base where ICBMs were being displayed.

Being dead however proved no obstacle to The Great Leader extending his presidency, the collective office Chuch'ejosŏnŭi yŏngwŏnhan suryŏng (Eternal leaders of Juche Korea) created in 2016 by the insertion of an enabling line in the preamble to the constitution.  What this amendment did was formalise the position of The Great Leader and his late son (The Dear Leader) as the “eternal leaders” of the DPRK and was said to be part of juche, the term used to describe the DPRK’s national philosophy, a synthesis of The Great Leader’s interpretation of (1) Korean tradition and (2) Marxist-Leninist theory.  It was an interesting legal move.  Constitutionally, the office of president was established only in 1972; prior to that the role of head of state had been purely ceremonial and held by respected party functionaries, all power exercised by The Great Leader in his capacity as premier and general secretary of the WPK.  However, merely by being president, The Great Leader vested the office with such prestige that upon his death in 1994, the position was left vacant, The Dear Leader not granted the title.  That nuance of succession for a while absorbed the interest of the DPRK watchers but attempts to invest the move with any significance abated as DPRK business, though in the more straitened circumstances of the post Soviet world, continued as usual.

The constitution was again revised in 1998.  Being a godless communist state, no fine theological points stood in the way of declaring The Great Leader the DPRK’s “Eternal President”, the latest addition to the preamble declaring: “Under the leadership of the Workers' Party of Korea, the Democratic People's Republic of Korea and the Korean people will hold the great leader Comrade Kim Il-sung in high esteem as the eternal President of the Republic.”  The constitution, as revised and promulgated after the death of The Dear Leader, again referred to The Great Leader as “Eternal President of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea” but in 2016 (The Dear Leader having been dead for an apparently decent duration), another amendment to the preamble changed the administrative nomenclature of executive eternity to “Eternal leaders of Juche Korea”, the honor now jointly held by the leaders great & dear.  It was another first for the Kims and the legal mechanism is expected to be replicated after the death of the Supreme Leader.

KCNA official photograph: Ri Sol-ju (b circa 1987; wife of Supreme Leader Kim Jong-un) (left), Kim Ju-ae (centre) and Kim Jong-un (right), undisclosed location, February 2023.

Although the dynastic model (Kim I, Kim II, Kim II) may appear to be that of a hereditary monarchy, the regime makes an ideological distinction between the DPRK and decadent practices elsewhere, the succession based on 백두혈통 (Paektu hyŏlt’ong) (Mount Paektu bloodline) with the legitimacy conferred not by “inheritance” but rather “revolutionary lineage”.  Sitting on the Chinese border, Mount Paektu is an active volcano and the highest peak on the Korean peninsula; as well as being important in ancient Korean mythology, it figures also in the legends of the Kims, Kim Il-sung said to have led a resistance against Japan's occupation of the peninsula from bases on Mount Paektu and it was there Kim Jong-il was born.  Now, with “three-generation hereditary succession” accomplished, in a sense, samdae sesŭp has been perfected and in South Korea (or “the puppet state to the south” as the KCNA puts it), the feeling the internal logic of henceforth maintaining a “Supreme Leader” would be compelling although that won’t stop some in the puppet state dubbing her “Supreme Leaderette”.

IBM: Mothers and daughters but not sisters

IBM PC-1 (1981).

IBM didn’t invent the motherboard.  It evolved into the form in which it became well-known in the early 1980s because advances in technology had reduced the size of certain components (CPU, memory etc) which used to be separate devices which were wired together to run as a unit.  When IBM released the original PC-1 in 1981, it was built around a motherboard which contained slots into which expansion boards could be plugged and various connectors with which compatible devices could be connected.  Given there were motherboards, IBM, in the innocent age of the 1980s, decided other peripheral components, those usually directly embedded through soldering to the motherboard, should be called daughterboards.  Quite how the nomenclature was chosen is either not known or IBM has suppressed the records and the fanciful notion that it’s because the early motherboards contained more female than male connections is just an industry myth.  In the literature, there’s also the odd reference to sisterboards though the name never caught on and "daughter-board" was sometime used to describe cards which plugged-into expansion cards but such devices were rare.  Obviously, if a server has two daughter-boards installed, there's no reason why they couldn't, in that configuration, be called “sister-boards” but that convention never evolved.

IBM PC-1 motherboard (1981), expansion slots at the top right; it seemed small at the time.

A daughterboard was a circuit board which extended the circuitry of the motherboard and, being soldered, was connected directly, unlike the inherently swappable expansion cards which plugged-in using the bus or other (most often serial, parallel or SCSI (small computer system interface)) interfaces.  Like a motherboard, daughterboards had sockets, pins, plugs and connectors to permit connection to other boards or other devices and have been both part of initial product releases and post-launch updates, the best known example of which were the MIDI (musical instrument digital interface) daughterboards used to add functionality to a sound card.  Except for the odd special build for someone really nerdy, modern PCs (personal computer) now rarely have daughterboards although they’re still seen on servers.

Daughterboard (left) and bored daughter (right):  1984 Apple Macintosh 128 KB motherboard with SCSI daughterboard (right) and additional RAM daughterboard (left).  In 1984, having a machine with 1 MB RAM was a way to impress people.  An obviously bored Chelsea Clinton (b 1980; FDOTUS 1993-2001) is pictured listening to crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) again explain why her never becoming POTUS was the fault of others, Clinton Global Initiative annual meeting, Hilton Hotel, Manhattan, New York City, 18 September, 2023.  Like us all, Chelsea had heard it many times before.

Even before the twenty-first century interest in gender and gendered pronouns, IBM had renamed everything in the corporation which could in anyway be thought sexist, racist etc.  By the late 1990s, although the term motherboard continued widely to be used, IBM had started calling them them variously main-boards or system-boards; daughterboards became piggyback or mezzanine boards.  Interestingly, as part of the linguistic sanitation, IBM started calling hard disk drives "hard files" which was either looking forward to solid-state storage or just one of those inexplicable things which happens when projects assume their own inertia; whatever the reason, "hard file" never caught on.  The terms male and female for connections (modeled on human anatomy and used in everything from plumbing to the space programme) were retained because their use was universal and convenient or mnemonic gender-neutral substitutes eluded even IBM's language police.  Male and female connectors may be about the only gender-loaded terms which will escape being labelled "micro-aggressions".

Saturday, March 28, 2026

Ultimatum

Ultimatum (pronounced uhl-tuh-mey-tuhm or uhl-tuh-mah-tuhm)

(1) A final, uncompromising demand or set of terms issued by a party to a dispute (used especially of governments and WAGs (wives & girlfriends)), the rejection of which may lead to a severance of relations, the imposition of sanctions, the use of force etc.

(2) A final proposal or statement of conditions; any final or peremptory demand, offer or proposal.

1731: From the New Latin, a specialized use of the Medieval Latin ultimatum (a final statement), noun use of neuter of Latin adjective ultimātus (last possible, final; ended, finished), past participle of ultimāre (to come to an end), from ultimus (extreme, last, furthest, farthest, final).  The Latin plural ultimata was used by the Romans as a noun in the sense of “what is farthest or most remote; the last, the end”.  In mid-1920s slang ultimatum described also “the buttocks” (a use which deserves to be revived).  In English, the plural form had an interesting trajectory.  Although the Anglo-Irish satirist & Anglican cleric Jonathan Swift (1667–1745) used “ultimatums”, that didn’t until the twentieth century convince the OED (Oxford English Dictionary) to displace ultimata as the recommended form.  In diplomacy (a world of “gray areas”), the comparative is “more ultimative”, the superlative “most ultimative”.  Ultimatum is a noun, ultimating & ultimated are verbs and ultimative is an adjective; the noun plural is ultimatums or ultimata. 

The first ultimatum would have been issued in prehistoric times and there have been many since.  History suggests a great many have been bluffs which can be a successful tactic if perceived as plausible but often the “bluff was called” and the ultimatum proved a hollow threat, thus the language of diplomacy including also the (sometimes darkly) satirical or humorous (1) penultimatum (plural penultimatums or penultimata) which describes a statement of terms or conditions made by one party to another, commonly expressed as an ultimatum in the hopes of compelling immediate compliance with demands, but that then is superseded by more negotiation instead of actual dire consequences and (2) antepenultimatum (plural antepenultimatums or antepenultimata) which describes a statement of terms or conditions made by one party to another, essentially a penultimatum, but even more tentative and more repeatedly abandoned in favour of subsequent ignominious compromises.  The trouble with unfulfilled ultimatums is that while rapidly they can lose their persuasive power (in a manner analogous with Aesop's Fable The boy who cried wolf), at some point a party issuing unenforced ultimatums may one day make good on their threats, the high stakes gambler Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) and the rather dim-witted Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) both in September 1939 genuinely surprised when the Anglo-French ultimatum guaranteeing the sovereignty of Poland was honoured, the previous back-downs no longer a guide.  Of course, six year later, Polish sovereignty was sacrificed to political necessity but a war which began with the RAF (Royal Air Force dropping leaflets politely asking the Germans to stop what they were doing and ended with the USAAF (US Army Air Force) dropping A-bombs of Japanese cities had many unintended consequences.

CD cover art for Lindsay Lohan's Spirit in the Dark (2008) album.

For centuries, the word “ultimatum” seems to have been avoided by poets, librettists and lyricists.  Ultimatum is a Latinate “formal” word so perhaps not well-suited to love songs but beyond the register and tone, those studying structural linguistics note the prosody: It’s a four-syllable word with a stress pattern (ul-TIM-a-tum) difficult to “fit into” common meters and melodic phrasing.  That said, while there’s a semantic narrowness, the idea of the ultimatum (a final demand backed by consequences) is hardly rare in opera and poetry but it tends to be described or implied rather than labelled with the specific word.  However, one niche was found in the definitely modern genre of rap, hip-hop and such and that’s attributed to the material putting a premium on conflict, violence and the technique of rhyming on the final syllable.  Undaunted however was Kara DioGuardi (b 1970) who included “ultimatum” in the opening verse of the Lindsay Lohan song Stay (2008).  Its inclusion is a genuine rarity.

Verse 1 of Stay (2008) Kara DioGuardi, sung by by Lindsay Lohan.

Baby, take your coat off and your shoes and just relax
Let your body sink into these arms, that's where it's at
I'll open up a bottle and slip into something else
I hope tonight's the night that all these walls are gonna melt
'Cause when we're out, you're sending me mixed signals all the time
You want me, but you don't just wanna lay it on the line
So baby, here's your ultimatum, are you in or out?
All you have to do is wanna turn this all around, and...

If it was for poets a challenge to splice “ultimatum” into the body of a work, without any discordance it could be used as a title and Philip Larkin (1922-1985) choose it for his first published poem which appeared in The Listener on 28 November, 1940:

Ultimatum (1940) by Philip Larkin.

But we must build our walls, for what we are
Necessitates it, and we must construct
The ship to navigate behind them, there.
Hopeless to ignore, helpless instruct
For any term of time beyond the years
That warn us of the need for emigration:
Exploded the ancient saying: Life is yours.
For on our island is no railway station,
There are no tickets for the Vale of Peace,
No docks where trading ships and seagulls pass.
Remember stories you read when a boy
- The shipwrecked sailor gaining safety by
His knife, treetrunk, and lianas - for now
You must escape, or perish saying no.

Unknown previously, “ultimatum” did occasionally appear in twentieth century poetry, a product probably of the big, multi-theatre wars and the use in modern and experimental poetry of language which borrowed from abstract or formal vocabularies.  While the terrible first half of the twentieth century gave poets plenty of scope to explore the concept (it was an age of ultimatums), in print, it was done almost without mention of the word.

The issuing of ultimatums has shaped a number of turning points in history; variously they have proved decisive, stabilizing or catastrophic.  Probably the most infamous was the “July Ultimatum”, served on Serbia by Austria-Hungary after a Serbian nationalist assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand (1863–1914; heir presumptive to the throne of the Austro-Hungarian Empire).  While such a procedure was orthodox politics, what was notable about what Vienna did in 1914 was to make demands it was certain Serbia would be unable to fulfil.  The Austrians hankered for war because they wanted permanently to put an end the “Serbian threat” and Berlin, anticipating a traditional, short, sharp, limited war of a few weeks, gave Vienna the infamous “German blank cheque” of support.  Belgrade accordingly turned to its traditional supporters in Moscow who agreed to offer military support; that came after the Kremlin had received confirmation from Paris that France would honor its treaty arrangement with Russia.  From all this came the outbreak of war in August 1914 by which time the British (for a variety of reasons) had become involved and by 1917 the US had become a belligerent; this was conflict which came to be called “The World War” before in the 1940s being renamed “World War I” (1914-1918).

Even in 1945, the phrase “unconditional surrender” (the origin an apparently chance remark (although subsequently he would cite a precedent from the US Civil War (1861-1865)) by Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, POTUS 1933-1945) at the Casablanca Conference (January 1943)) had been controversial because of the concern it had lengthened the war against Germany by dissuading (the probably chimerical) opposition forces within the country from staging a coup with a view to negotiating peace.  Despite that, at the Potsdam Conference (July-August 1945) the Allied powers (China, the UK & US, the Soviet Union not then at war with Japan) served Tokyo with the Potsdam Declaration demanding exactly that.  After the two A-bombs were dropped, the Japanese agreed to a surrender that fell a little short of being “unconditional” but the Americans decided to accept the offer, concluding having a “puppet emperor”.

Trump: The Art of the Deal (First Edition, 1987) by Donald J. Trump with Tony Schwartz.

One once improbable text in 2016 added to the reading lists of political analysts was Trump: The Art of the Deal (1987) by Donald J. Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) with Tony Schwartz (b 1952).  It’s a useful book because in it Mr Trump (or Mr Schwartz depending on one’s spin of choice) provided examples of negotiating techniques.  That book was about commerce, notably property deals, but it gave an insight into why Mr Trump later succeeded so well in reality TV, his understanding of the potency of mixing fact, threats, spectacle and blatant untruths underlining that second career.  He may not, while the book was being drafted, have been contemplating politics as a third career but he did find many of its techniques could be adapted to international diplomacy.  In that he proved an innovator but there are limitations to how well things translate.  One weapon in the arsenal is the ultimatum which can be used in real-estate deals with few consequences beyond the relatively few individuals concerned but in international relations, such things can have cascading global effects.

If within the White House there were any doubts the issuing of ultimatums might have consequences other than what was desired, the path of the conflict in the Middle East should have given them some interesting case studies.  What’s also interesting is whether in the White House the possible reactions to ultimatums were discussed prior to them being presented.  Giving the Ayatollahs 48 hours to reopen the Strait of Hormuz or face withering new airstrikes on Iran’s power generation infrastructure sounded decisive on Truth Social (which definitely is part of the modern calculation in such matters) but Tehran responded by threatening to target the energy and water desalination facilities in the neighboring Gulf states.  As threats go, it was a stark warning because those nations can rely on desalinated water for as much as 90% of their needs and have no practical alternative so it would have been an escalation with potentially devastating regional consequences.

Not a model easily translatable to Iran.  Nicolás Maduro (b 1962; President of Venezuela 2013-2026, right) and his lawyer Barry Pollack (b 1964, left), US Federal Court, Manhattan, New York City, March 2026, illustration by Jane Rosenberg (b 1949).

Accordingly, prior to the deadline, Mr Trump announced he’d “temporarily” called of the strikes, claiming that was induced not by Tehran’s counter-threat but by “productive” talks with “the right people”.  He didn’t descent to specifics (something not unusual in back channel diplomacy) but did add the talks had revealed “major points of agreement” and “they want very much to make a deal, we'd like to make a deal, too.  Apparently unimpressed, Iranian state media, claimed the president had backed down in the face of their threats and denied talks of any significance were taking place.  Again, in diplomacy of this kind, denials are standard procedure.  A few hours later, Mr Trump assured an audience the US was conducting “very, very good discussions” with Iran.  So it’s competing narratives and analysts made no attempt to try to work out how much truthfulness was coming from either side but more than one observed that if the president had realized he’d painted himself into a corner by delivering the ultimatum, revealing previously unannounced back-channel discussions was a quick and face-saving way to buy some time to hope plan A (missiles and bombs) works.  There was though from some sources the notion the mention of “the right people” may put in the mind of the regime the audacious kidnapping of Nicolás Maduro (b 1962; President of Venezuela 2013-2026), an operation made possible by the cooperation of “the right people” in Caracas.  Some suspicion of one’s colleagues might be understandable given the extraordinary success achieved in assassinating leading figures in the Iranian political establishment and the IRGC (Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps).

While it can be guaranteed US-Iran “talks” are taking place in some form, trying to predict the course of this conflict is difficult because there are relatively few models from the past which might provide something of indicative value.  Since the end of the Cold War, one endlessly repeated admonition issued by those in the Middle East to successive occupants of the White House has been not to do this or that because “you will open the gates of Hell”.  Many probably suspect that at some point in that last few years, those gates were at least pushed ajar but if things do escalate they could be torn from their hinges and the most worrying scenario is that US land forces will be deployed against Iran with the active cooperation of the Gulf States, something unthinkable as recently as a few weeks ago.  The theory supporting this is based on the notion that the attacks on Iran conducted over the past year have made irrevocable the Ayatollah’s determination to acquire an IND (independent nuclear deterrent), a quite rational response by any regime reviewing military matters since 1945.  Of course, ayatollahs with A-bombs would trigger a chain reaction because a number of states in the region would also demand their own IND with a genuinely autonomous launch capacity because, just as Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) felt compelled to acquire the capacity because he doubted “a US president would risk New York to save Paris” the same concerns would extend to the fate of Dubai and Riyadh.

The power behind the curtain: Ayatollah Mojtaba Khamenei (b 1969; Supreme Leader, Islamic Republic of Iran since 2026, left) looking at his father Grand Ayatollah Ali Khamenei (1939-2026; Supreme Leader, Islamic Republic of Iran 1989-2026).  Mojtaba Khamenei’s nickname is reputed to be “The power behind the robes”, an allusion to the power he exercised while his father was supreme leader (something like the role fulfilled by Lieutenant General Oskar von Hindenburg (1883–1960) while serving as ADC (aide-de-camp) Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg (1847–1934; President of Germany 1925-1934).

What Mr Trump has done is to abandon the “power realist” approach to dealing with the Islamic Republic.  As explained by its high priest (Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1973-1977)), the approach was an acknowledgment that “solving” some problems was either impossible or so dangerous to attempt that the preferred approach was endlessly to “manage” things, thereby either maintaining the problem at an acceptable level or allowing it, over time, to “solve itself”.  Mr Trump probably genuinely believes there is not a problem on the planet he can’t solve by “making a deal”, achieved by a combination of threats, inducements, spectacle and ultimatums.  In some fields, such optimism is a virtue but when dealing with Ayatollahs with a nuclear weapons programme and the dream of a global caliphate under their interpretation of Shi'i Islam, it’s at least potentially dangerous.  One can argue about whether the ayatollahs had, prior to the last two rounds of attack, already decided to develop a deliverable nuclear weapon but now there can be no doubt.  No US president before Mr Trump would have dared do what’s been done in the last twelve months but now he’s in the position of not daring to stop because nothing short of regime change can now make things better; all alternatives are worse.  On paper, given the regime’s internal contradictions and the widespread dissatisfaction among the population, there should be paths to regime change without a land invasion but the Ayatollahs and IRGC appear still to possess a formidable defensive apparatus.  As the missile exchanges continue, Mr Trump has announced a ten-day extension to the deadline to re-open the Strait of Hormuz.  Whether this will come to be regarded as ultimatum 1.1 or 2.0 will be one of the footnotes when the histories of this conflict are written.

Sunday, February 15, 2026

Targa

Targa (pronounced ta-gah)

(1) A model name trade-marked by Porsche AG in 1966.

(2) In casual use, a generic description of cars with a removable roof panel between the windscreen and a truncated roof structure ahead of the rear window.

1966 (in the context of the Porsche): From the Targa Florio race in Sicily, first run in 1906 and last staged in its classic form in 1973.  In many European languages, targa (or derivatives) existed and most were related to the Proto-Germanic targǭ (edge), from the primitive Indo-European dorg- (edge, seam), from the Old Norse targa (small round shield) and the Old High German zarga (edge, rim).  The modern Italian targa (plate, shingle; name-plate; number plate or license plate; plaque; signboard; target (derived from the rounded oval or rectangle shield used in medieval times)) was ultimately from the Frankish targa (shield).  In the Old English targa (a light shield) was also from the Proto-Germanic targǭ and was cognate with the Old Norse targa and the Old High German zarga (source of the German Zarge); it was the source of the Modern English target.  The Proto-Germanic targǭ dates from the twelfth century and “target” in the sense of “round object to be aimed at in shooting” emerged in the mid eighteenth century and was used originally in archery.  Targa is a noun; the noun plural is targas.

1974 Leyland P76 Targa Florio in Omega Navy, Aspen Green & Nutmeg (without the side graphics).  Like all P76s, the Targa Florio effortlessly could fit a a 44 (imperial) gallon (53 US gallon; 205 litre) in its trunk (boot) and while it's unlikely many buyers took advantage of this, it was an indication of the impressive capacity.  The reputed ability to handle fours sets of golf clubs was probably more of a selling point but unfortunately, as the P76's rapid demise might suggest, there just weren't that many golfers. 

Although, especially when fitted with the 4.4 litre (269 cubic inch) V8, it was in many ways at least as good as the competition, the Australian designed and built Leyland P76 is remembered as the Antipodean Edsel: a total failure.  It was doomed by poor build quality, indifferent dealer support and the misfortune of being a big (in local terms) car introduced just before the first oil shock hit and the world economy sunk into the severe recession which marked the end of the long, post war boom.  It vanished in 1975, taking with it Leyland Australia's manufacturing capacity but did have one quixotic moment of glory, setting the fastest time on Special Stage 8 of the 1974 London–Sahara–Munich World Cup Rally held on the historic Targa Florio course in Palermo, Sicily (in the rally, the P76 finished a creditable 13th).  The big V8 machine out-paced the field by several minutes and to mark the rare success, Leyland Australia built 488 "Targa Florio" versions.  Available in Omega Navy, Aspen Green or Nutmeg (a shade of brown which seemed to stalk the 1970s), the special build was mechanically identical to other V8 P76 Supers with automatic transmission but did include a sports steering wheel and aluminium road wheels, both intended for the abortive Force 7, a two-door version which was ungainly but did offer the functionality of a hatchback.  In a typical example of Leyland Australia's (and that of British Leyland generally) ineptitude, the Force 7 was being developed just as the other local manufacturers were in about to drop their larger two-doors, demand having dwindled after a brief vogue.  Only 10 of the 60-odd prototype Force 7V coupés survived the crusher but even had the range survived beyond 1974, success would have been improbable although the company should be commended for having intended to name the luxury version the Tour de Force (from the French and translated literally as "feat of strength"), the irony charming although En dépit de tout (In spite of everything) might better have capture the moment. 

Except for those which (usually) stick to numbers or alpha-numeric strings (Mercedes-Benz the classic example), coming up with a name for a car can be a tricky business, especially if someone objects.  In 1972, Ford of England was taken to court by Granada Television after choosing to call their new car a “Granada” though the judge gave the argument short shrift, pointing out (1) it was unlikely anyone would confuse a car with a TV channel and (2) neither the city nor the province of Granada in Spain’s Andalusia region had in 1956 complained when the name was adopted for the channel.  The suit was thrown out and the Ford Granada went on to such success the parent company in the US also used the name.

Spot the difference.  1966 Ford Mustang Fastback (left) and 1966 Ford T-5 Fastback (right).

In Cologne, Ford’s German outpost in 1964 had less success with names when trying to sell the Mustang in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany, 1949-1990)) because Krupp AG held (until December 31 1978) exclusive rights to the name which it used on a range of heavy trucks, some of which were built as fire engines.  A truck couldn't be confused with a Mustang although there might have been some snobby types among the French who claimed to see some resemblance.  That would have been in the tradition of Ettore Bugatti's (1881–1947) observation in 1928 the powerful, sturdy, eponymous machines of W. O. Bentley (1888–1971) were the “world’s fastest trucks” and it was a comparison between the brutishness of those 6½ litre (actually a 6.6 (403 cubic inch) straight-six monsters with the elegant delicacy of his 2.3 litre (138 cubic inch) straight-eights which stirred his thoughts.  The gulf in 1967 between a Mustang and something like the (conceptually, vaguely similar) Renault Caravelle (1958-1968, which never grew beyond 1.1 litres (68 cubic inch)) was perhaps not so wide but would, in some French imaginations, been vivid.  Ford’s legal advice apparently was that under FRG trademark law, Kreidler AG held the rights to use the “Mustang” name for “two-wheeled vehicles” (ie motor-cycles) while Krupp AG enjoyed the same for “four-wheeled vehicles”, the act making no distinction between passenger cars and heavy trucks.  From his tomb, W.O. Bentley may have felt vindicated.

Understandably, Ford’s legal advice was to settle rather than sue so negotiations began with Ford making clear to Krupp and Kreidler it wasn't seeking exclusivity of use in the FRG and was happy for Mustang trucks and motor-cycles to continue in production.  The two German concerns responded with an offer to “share” their rights for a one-off payment of US$10,000 (in 1965, on the US West Coast, the list price for a Porsche 911 was around US$6,500) which Ford declined.  Given trucks are sold on the basis of factors like price, functionality and cost of operation rather than an abstraction like the name, why the Krupp board didn't make an effort to take advantage of what would have been good (and free) publicity seems not to be publicly available but negotiations were at that point sundered and until 1979 Mustangs in the FRG were sold as the “T-5” or “T5”.  Almost identical to the US version but for the badges and a few pieces of “localization”, the re-designated Mustang was in the 1960s one of the most popular US cars sold in Europe, aided by the then attractive US$-Deutsche Mark exchange rate and its availability in military PX (Post Exchange) stores, service personnel able to buy at a discount and subsequently have the car shipped back to the US at no cost; the system was retained (of the 4,000-odd Mustangs sold outside North America in 2012, nearly one in four was through military channels).

The badges: As they appeared on the early (1964-1966) Mustangs in most of the world (left), the T-5 badge used on early Mustangs sold in Germany (centre) and the (non-hyphenated) T5 used in Germany between 1967 and 1979 when the last was sold.

Ford also had difficulties with the FRG registration authorities.  When first made available in 1964, the T-5 was actually a standard (US-specification) Mustang with the required parts in a “T-5 Kit”, supplied in boxes in the trunk (boot) and ready to be installed by the dealer.  That approach was in the US used for a number of purposes (notably high performance parts such as multiple carburetors and the requisite manifold) but the German authorities weren’t amused and insisted all this had to be done on a production-line, explaining why all but the earliest T-5s were produced in batches.  Visually, the changes which distinguished a T-5 from a Mustang were slight and included (1) wheel covers with a plain black centre. (2) the word “Mustang” being removed from horn ring & gas (petrol) cap, metric graduations on certain instruments (such as odometers & speedometers which measured kilometres rather than miles) and (3) a “T-5” badge replacing the “Mustang” script on the flanks.  Other than these cosmetic items, mechanical changes were limited to suspension settings (including adding the shock-tower cross-brace fitted to the Shelby GT350s) better to handle continental roads and the fitting of European-specification lighting.  Curiously, although Ford obviously didn’t make much effort when coming up with the “T-5” name (it was the project code during the Mustang's development in Detroit), it did create a “T-5” badge (part number C5ZZ-6325622A) to replace the “Mustang” script on the front fenders and it was thought necessary later to do a re-design, the new one (part number CZZ-16098C) dropping the hyphen and placing the centred characters vertically.  Apparently content, the new badge was used until 1978 when Krupp’s copyright expired and the Mustang’s badges became global.  As was common, there were also running changes, a dash bezel above the glove box (with the T5 designation) introduced during 1967 and continued the next year while the 1971 range received a new dash emblem which sat in the centre, above the radio and heater controls.  However, anyone driving or sitting in a T5, unless expert in such things or unusually observant, probably wouldn’t have noticed the car was in any way different from a Mustang of that vintage.  Although the records are in places sketchy (and occasionally contradictory), the consensus is between 1964-1973, some 3,500 T5s or T-5s were produced.

Scenes from Rote Sonne (1970, promotional poster, centre): A 1966 Ford T5 (left) and some of the cast (right) with a (circa 1966) Volkswagen Type 1 (Beetle).  Note the jackboots.

Directed by Rudolf Thome (b 1939), the plotline of Rote Sonne (Red Sun) revolves around four young Fräuleins (Peggy, Sylvie, Christine & Isolde) who have entered into a mortiferous pact to use their charms to lure men into their grasp as a prelude to murdering them.  Maybe the foursome had read Valerie Solanas's (1936-1988), S.C.U.M. Manifesto (1967) which, even today, is still about as terminal as feminism gets.  Although criticized as an example of the “pornography of violence” the film genuinely did fit into the contemporary feminist narratives of the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990), a place in which ripples from the street protests which swept Germany in 1968 were still being felt and it was in 1970 the terrorist collective Rote Armee Fraktion (Red Army Faction (RAF)) was formed; In the English-speaking world it’s better (if misleadingly) known as the Baader–Meinhof Gang.

Front page from the Krupp Mustang brochure (1958, left) announcing ...jetzt auch als Frontlenker (“...now also available as a forward control truck” (known in the US as the CoE (cab-over engine) configuration)) and two pages from the 1975 Ford T5 brochure (Ghia (upper right) and Mach 1 (lower right) versions).  The photography and text (in translation) in Ford’s T5 advertising followed the originals except that whereas the US agencies usually included people, for German eyes, there were only the cars.  The CoE configuration became popular because it allowed an increased load area while still complying with the maximum length limits set in many jurisdictions. 

Front cover of 1974 Ford T-5 brochure.  Unlike with the original Mustang which didn't have a bad angle”, photographers assigned the Mustang II needed carefully to choose the aspect because if snapped unsympathetically, it could look quite gawky.

The timing of the release of the Mustang II on 21 September, 1973 (for the 1974 season) proved exquisite because on 17 October, 1973 began the geopolitical ructions which three days later would trigger the announcement by OAPEC (Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) of a “total embargo” of sales of oil to the US and certain other countries.  What following from that came to be known first as the “1973 oil crisis” before being re-named “first oil shock” after not dissimilar troubles in 1979; one way or another, the world has since been adjusting to the change.  The Mustang II, lighter, smaller and notably more energy-efficient than its predecessor (which as late as 1971 had a 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 on the option list) was the right car for the time and proved a great success, despite the traditionalists being appalled at the engine choices being initially restricted to what were (compared with what had been and what would later return) rather anaemic four & six-cylinder units.

Ford T-5 brochure, the basic coupé (left) and the 3-Türer (three door) hatchback (right).  By 1974, the US manufacturers were using the word hardtop” more loosely than the when in the 1950s & 1960s it had been standardized to mean: “no B-pillar”.  Here, it seems to be used as a synonym of “two-door coupé” although by 1974, in the US, the term “pillared hardtop” had been coined to describe those vehicles with a B-pillar but no frames for the side windows.  The Mustang II used frameless side-windows so the use may have been a nod to that and it certainly wasn't to differentiate it from a (soft-top) convertible, that body style never offered on the model.      

On paper, the more modest dimensions and fuel consumption should have made the Mustang II more suited to the German market and Ford may have had high hopes (at least as high as homes got by the mid-1970s) but the appeal of the early Mustangs was the relatively compact (in US terms) size and the small-displacement (again, in US terms) V8s (260 & 289 cubic inch; 4.2 & 4.7 litre) making the car something of a “sweet spot” in what was a small but lucrative German niche.  In the 1960s, there was no European-made car quite like it, thus the small but devoted following enjoyed by the early T5s but the Mustang II used a template which was quasi-European and the most obvious comparison was with Ford’s own Capri II, built in Cologne and on any objective measure the Capri II was a better car than a Mustang II (T5), most Germans (an other Europeans) concluding while there were reasons to buy a Mustang, there were few to buy a Mustang II.  So good was the German Capri it was for years exported to the US where, sold by Mercury dealers, often it was the best-selling import, was withdrawn from sale after 1977 only because the strength of the Deutsch Mark (the FRG’s currency) against the US dollar rendered the project unviable.  Production numbers for the T-5s based on the Mustang II are disputed and it’s believed the total was “low three figures”, the appeal of the 1973-1978 T-5s not greatly enhanced by the addition in 1975 of an optional 4.9 litre (302 cubic inch) V8 which increased fuel consumption rather more than it improved performance.  As a footnote, Ford called the 4.9 a “5.0” to avoid confusion with their 300 cubic inch straight-six truck engine (which, like the 302, was a true 4.9).  Because the 300 wasn’t used in Australia, there the 302s (one of which was a unique “Cleveland 302”) were (after 1973 when the country switched to metric measures) badged 4.9 to provide greater market differentiation from the companion 5.8 (351) V8.

1964 Daimler (C-Specification) SP250 (née Dart) in London Metropolitan Police configuration.

The wire wheels are a later edition, all police SP250s supplied originally with steel wheels & "dog dish" hubcaps); many (non-police) SP250s have also subsequently been fitted with the wheels.  Scotland Yard purchased some 30 SP250s (all automatics) attracted by their 120+ mph (195 km/h) performance, allowing them to out-pace all but the fastest two and four-wheeled vehicles then on the road.  Police forces in Australia and New Zealand also adopted SP250s as highway patrol vehicles.

The Daimler SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the attractively alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast.  Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.  Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management also reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys.  The Dodge Dart didn't for long stay big, the name in 1964 re-used for a compact line although it was the generation made between 1967-1977 which was most successful and almost immediately Chrysler regretted the decision to cease production, the replacement range (the Dodge Aspen & Plymouth Volaré (1976-1980)) one of the industry's disasters.  The name was revived in 2012 for a new Dodge Dart, a small, front wheel drive (FWD) car which was inoffensive but dreary and lasted only until 2016.  The SP250 was less successful still, not even 3000 made between 1959-1964, something attributable to (1) the unfortunate styling, (2) the antiquated chassis, (3) the lack of development which meant there were basic flaws in the body engineering of the early versions and (4) the lack of interest by Jaguar which in 1960 had purchased Daimler, its interest in the manufacturing capacity acquired rather than the product range.  It was a shame because the SP250's exquisite 2.5 litre (155 cubic inch) V8 deserved better.  

Lindsay Lohan with Porsche 911 Targa 4 (997), West Hollywood, 2008.  The Targa was reportedly leased by her former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (b 1977).

Sometimes though, numbers could upset someone.  Even in the highly regulated EEC (European Economic Community, the origin of the European Union (EU)) of the 1960s, a company in most cases probably couldn’t claim exclusive rights to a three number sequence but Peugeot claimed exactly that when Porsche first showed their new 901 in 1963.  Asserting they possessed the sole right to sell in France car with a name constructed with three numbers if the middle digit was a zero, the French requested the Germans rename the thing.  It was the era of Franco-German cooperation and Porsche did just that, announcing the new name would be 911, a machine which went on to great things and sixty years on, remains on sale although, the lineage is obvious, only the odd nut & bolt is interchangeable between the two.  So all was well that ends well even if the French case still seems dubious because Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling in France cars labelled 200 or 300 (and would soon offer the 600). Anyway, this time, it was the project name (901) which was discarded (although it remained as the prefix on part-numbers) and surviving examples of the first 82 cars produced before the name was changed are now highly prized by collectors.

Sometimes however, the industry uses weird names for no obvious reason and some of the cars produced for the JDM (Japanese domestic market) are, to Western ears, truly bizarre though perhaps for a Japanese audience they’re compellingly cool.  Whatever might be the rationale, the Japanese manufacturers have give the world some memorable monikers including (1) from Honda the Vamios Hobio Pro & the That's, (2) from Mazda the Titan Dump, the Scrum Truck & the Bongo Brawny, (3) from Mitsubishi the Super Great, the eK-Classy, the Town Box, the Mirage Dingo Teddy Bear & the Homy Super Long, (4) from Suzuki the Solio Bandit & the Mighty Boy, (5) from Toyota the Royal Lounge Alphard, (6) from Subaru the Touring Bruce, (7) from Nissan the Big Thumb, the Elgrand Highway Star & the Cedric and (8) from Cony, the Guppy.

1964 Porsche 901 (left), 1968 Porsche 911L Targa (soft window) (centre) and 1969 Porsche 911S Targa (right)

Compared with that lot, Porsche deciding to call a car a Targa seems quite restrained.  Porsche borrowed the name from Targa Florio, the famous race in the hills of Sicily first run in 1906 and where Porsche in the 1950s had enjoyed some success.  Long, challenging and treacherous, it originally circumnavigated the island but the distance was gradually reduced until it was last run in its classic form in 1973 although in even more truncated form it lingered until 1977.  The construct of the name of the Targa Florio, the race in Italy from which Porsche borrowed the name, was Targa (in the sense of “plate” or “shield” + Florio, a tribute to Vincenzo Florio (1883-1959), a rich Sicilian businessman, automobile enthusiast and scion of a prominent family of industrialists and sportsmen; it was Vincenzo Florio who in 1906 founded the race.  Porsche won the race seven times between between 1963-1970 and took victory in 1973 in a 911 Carrera RSR, the car which in its street-legal (the Carrera RS) form remains among the most coveted of all the 911s and many replicas have been created.  Porsche didn't make any 1973 Carrera RS Targas; all were coupés.

1976 Porsche 914 2.0 with factory-fitted heckblende in Nepal Orange over black leatherette with orange & black plaid inserts.  All the mid-engined 914 built for public sale had a targa top although for use in competition the factory did a few with a fixed roof to gain additional rigidity.  The 914 was the first of a number of attempts by Porsche’s engineers to convince customers there were better configurations than the rear-engine layout used on the 911 & 912.  The customers continued to demand 911s and, the customer always being right, rear-engined 911s remain available to this day.  Porsche now offers front & mid-engined models so presumably honor is thought satisfied on both sides.

Lamborghini Miura Roadster in metallic blue over white leather.

The modern convention is to distinguish between a roadster (with a roof which wholly can be removed or folded back) and a targa (with a removable panel about the seats (a cat with left & right panels being a “T-top”)) but in what now seems a linguistic quirk, Lamborghini in 1968 displayed a (sort of) targa it called a Roadster.  It would be the only convertible Miura of any type the factory would build.  Although the P400 Miura's rolling chassis had generated much interest (and some scepticism from engineers who understood the implications of installing its mid-mounted V12 engine transversely) when displayed at the 1965 Turin Auto Show, when a pre-production prototype was used for the car’s debut at the Geneva show, it created as much of a sensation as the Jaguar E-Type (XKE, 1961-1974) arrival in the same city half-a-decade earlier.  The Miura is the spiritual ancestor of the “supercars” and “hypercars” of recent decades but while undeniably beautiful, at high-speed (it could exceed 170 mph (275 km/h)) the aerodynamic properties were dubious and the transverse engine induced handling quirks even experts found challenging to master.  Still, with close to 800 made over three series (P400, 1966-1968; P400 S, 1968-1971; P400 SV 1971-1973), it was a great success and the most desirable are now multi-million dollar machines.  It was quite an achievement for a concern which between 1948-1963 had built only well-regarded tractors and although the Miura wasn’t the company’s first car, it was the one which gained the marque the credibility to ranked with Ferrari and indeed greatly it influenced the mid-engined Ferraris and Maseratis of the 1970s as well as encouraging lower-cost imitators such as De Tomaso’s Mangusta (1967-1971).

Lamborghini Miura Roadster in metallic blue over white leather.

Perhaps counterintitutively the sensuous Miura was named after a breed of bull but it was one prized in bullfighting for its aggressive qualities so one can see the connection.  While a few claim to be cooks who helped stir the broth, the Miura’s lovely lines usually are credited to Marcello Gandini (1938–2024), a designer working at Giuseppe "Nuccio" Bertone’s (1914-1997) Turin-based Carrozzeria Bertone.  The one-off Miura roadster wasn’t exactly the first mid-engined coupé in a targa configuration, Ford building in 1965 five such GT40s (1964-1969) but these were pure racing cars and the first appeared a few weeks before Porsche in 1965 released the 911 Targa so it’s not surprising Ford dubbed the things “roadsters”.  The Fords were actually rolling test-beds for components and featured a number of differences from the more numerous coupés but nor was the Miura Roadster simply a coupé pulled from the assembly line and then de-roofed.  What Bertone did was a significant re-engineering, the roofline lowered by 30 mm (1¼ inches) with the rollover hoop lowered to reduce drag, the angle off the windscreen made more acute and the rear bodywork re-shaped with larger air-intakes for the V12, a more pronounced spoiler fitted to the rear deck, the tail-pipes re-routed and revised taillights were fitted.  Unseen were structural changes which reinforced the chassis, the box-section side members strengthened to compensate for the loss of rigidity created by removing the roof.  Inside, there were detail changes to the trim and switchgear.

Bertone’s Lamborghini Miura Roadster, Brussels Salon de L’Automobile, January 1968. Young ladies adorning exhibits were once a fixture at motor shows and this bevy was more fully clothed than many.

The reaction when the roadster was displayed at Brussels was little less enthusiastic than at Geneva two years earlier and dealers and the factory at once received enquiries about price and delivery dates.  Unfortunately, what the designers knew was that stunning though it looked, what the roofectomy had done was so compromise the structural rigidity that not even the strengthening done to the platform had been enough to make the Roadster a viable production car.  To achieve that, the whole shell would have had to be re-engineered and Lamborghini’s engineers knew that though achingly lovely, the shape and the transverse mounting of the V12 which made it possible were both flawed concepts and the future lay in longitudinally-positioned power-plants within an angular wedge.  Those conclusions would be rendered in physical form when the prototype Countach appeared at Geneva in 1971 and its lines can be seen still in twenty-first century Lamborghinis.

The ILZRO’s ZN 75 in iridescent green over tan leather.  The delightful “eyelashes” above the Miura's headlights unfortunately didn't appear on the P400 SV.

So the Roadster was destined to be a one-off curiosity but the show car subsequently had an interesting life.  In 1969 it was purchased by the New York-based ILZRO (International Lead Zinc Research Organization) which wanted something eye-catching with which to promote the use of the metals in automotive use.  Renamed ZN 75, it became a demonstration platform for zinc and lead applications in automotive engineering; it was repainted in an iridescent green, and various components were recast in zinc and lead-alloys, including trim, bumpers and even engine parts.  On the periodic table, the chemical element zinc has the symbol “Zn” while the “75” was a reference to 1975, the year the ILZRO and other industry groups were lobbying the regulators to set as the date by which new automotive materials and corrosion-resistance standards would become widespread.  The ILZRO’s campaign emphasis was on galvanization and anti-corrosion technologies, with the argument that by the mid-1970s, manufacturers would need extensively and more systematically to use zinc and such to meet with expectations of durability and comply with legislative dictate.  During the 1970s, was shown around North America, Europe, and Asia becoming one of the more widely seen Miuras and decades later, was restored to its original appearance.  Whether it even should be referred to as a targa is debatable because Bertone didn’t include a removable roof panel but over the years some Miuras have been converted to targas (with a removable panel) so the pedants can designate the original roadster as being “in the targa style”.   

1938 Packard 1605 Super Eight Sedanca de Ville by Barker.

The idea of a vehicle with a removable roof section over the driver is more ancient even than the Porsche 911.  Now, a “town car” is imagined as something small and increasingly powered in some Greta Thunberg (b 2003) approved way but in the US, what was sold as a “Town Car” used to be very big, very thirsty (for fossil fuels) and a prodigious emitter of greenhouse gasses.  The idea had begun in Europe as the coupé de ville, deconstructed as the French coupé (an elliptical form of carosse coupé (cut carriage)) and the past participle of couper (to cut) + de ville (French for “for town”).  So, it was, like the horse-drawn coupé carriage, a smaller conveyance for short-distance travel within cities, often just for two passengers who sat sometimes in an enclosed compartment and sometimes under a canopy while the driver was always exposed to the elements.  In the UK, the style was often advertised as the clarence carriage.  The coach-builders of the inter-war years created naming practices which were not consistent across the industry but did tend to be standardized within individual catalogues.  In the US, reflecting the horse-drawn tradition, the coupé de ville was Anglicized as coupe de ville and appeared as both “town brougham” and “town car”, distinguished by the enclosed passenger compartment (trimmed often in cloth) and the exposed driver who sat on more weather resistant leather upholstery.

1974 Lincoln Continental Town Car.  The big Lincolns of the 1970s are about as remote as can be imagined from the original idea of something small and agile for use in congested cities but Ford also called this body style the "pillared hardtop" so by then, linguistic traditions clearly meant little.

Dating from the 1920s, a variant term was “Sedanca de ville”, briefly used to describe a particular configuration for the roof but so attractive was the word it spread and soon there appeared were Sedancas and Sedanca coupés.  Like many designations in the industry, it soon ceased to carry an exact meaning beyond the front seats being open to the skies although by the 1920s there was usually a detachable or folding (even some sliding metal versions were built) roof and windscreens had become a universal fitting.  For a while, there probably was (unusually in an industry which often paid scant attention to the details of etymology) an understanding a Sedanca de ville was a larger vehicle than a Sedanca coupé but the former term became the more generally applied, always on the basis of the ability of the driver’s compartment to be open although it’s clear many of the vehicles were marketed towards owner-drivers rather than those with chauffeurs, that cohort having moved towards fully enclosed limousines.  It’s from the Sedanca tradition the US industry later picked up the idea of the “town car” although the association was vague and had nothing to do with an open driver’s cockpit; it was understood just as a model designation which somehow implied “prestige”.

1968 Triumph TR5 with “Surrey Top”.

Porsche had since the late 1940s been building roadsters and cabriolets but while the 911 (then known internally as Project 901) was under development, it was clear US regulators, in reaction to a sharply rising death toll on the nation’s highways, were developing some quite rigorous safety standards and a number of proposals had been circulated which threatened to outlaw the traditional convertible.  Thus the approach adopted which, drawing from the company’s experience in building race cars, essentially added a stylized roll-over bar which could accommodate a detachable roof-section over the passengers and a folding rear cover which included a Perspex screen (the solid rear glass would come later).  Actually, the concept wasn’t entirely novel, Triumph introducing something similar on their TR4 roadsters (1961-1967) although their design consisted of (1) a half-hard top with an integral roll-bar & fixed glass rear window and (2) two detachable (metal & vinyl) panels which sat above the passengers.  Customers universally (and still to this day) referred to this arrangement as the “Surrey Top” although Triumph insisted only the vinyl insert and its supporting frame was the “Surrey” while the rest of the parts collectively were the “Hard Top kit”.  The targaesque top was available on the TR5 (1967-1969), a de-tuned version of which was sold in North America as the TR250 with twin carburetors replacing the Lucas mechanical fuel-injection used in most other markets, the more exotic system then unable to comply with the new emission standards.

1953 Ford X-100 with roof panel retracted (left), the Quincunxed five carburetor apparatus atop the 317 cubic inch (5.2 litre) Lincoln Y-Block V8 (centre) and the built-in hydraulic jacking system in use (right).

However, long before Porsche told us there were Targa and a decade before even Triumph’s Surrey, Ford had displayed a two-seat “targa”.  In the years to come, things like the 1953 Ford X-100 would be called “concept cars” but that term didn’t then exist so Ford used the more familiar “dream car” and that does seem a more romantic way of putting it.  Reflecting the optimistic spirit of the early post-war years, the X-100 included a number of innovations including the use of radial-ply tyres, a built-in hydraulic jacking system, a rain-sensor which automatically would trigger an electric motor to close the sliding plexiglass roof panel, a built-in dictaphone, a telephone in the centre console and the convenience of heated seats and an electric shaver mounted in the glove compartment.  Some of the features became mainstream products, some not and while the “variable volume horn” wasn’t picked up by the industry, one did appear on the Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100; 1963-1981) although that was a rare supportive gesture.  It was also an age of imaginative labels and Ford called their quincunx induction system the “Multi-Plex”; while the engineering proved a cul-de-sac, the name did later get picked up by multi-screen suburban cinema complexes.  For the X-100, Ford used what was then a popular technique in the lunatic fringe of the burgeoning hot rod: an induction system using five carburettors in a Quincunx pattern.  Inherent difficulties and advances in engineering meant the fad didn’t last but the apparatus remins pleasing to those with a fondness of unusual aluminium castings and intricate mechanical linkages.  X-100 still exists and is displayed at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

1969 Mercury Marauder X-100.  In 1969, the blacked-out trunk (boot) lid and surrounds really was done by the factory.  During the administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), things were not drab and predictable.

In a number of quirky coincidences, the name X-100 seems to once have been an industry favourite because as well as the 1953 Ford “dream car”, it was the US Secret Service’s designation for the 1961 Lincoln Continental parade convertible in which John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated in Dallas, Texas.  One might have thought that macabre association might have been enough for the “X-100” tag to not again be used but, presumably because the Secret Service’s internal codes weren’t then general public knowledge, in 1969 Ford’s Mercury division released an X-100 as an up-market version of its second generation (1969-1970) Marauder.  Notionally, the X-100 was a “high performance” version but its 365 (gross) horsepower 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 was an option in lesser priced Marauders which meant the X-100, weighed down by the additional luxury fittings, was just a little slower than the cheaper models with the 429.  The market for “full-sized” high performance cars was anyway by 1969 in the final stages of terminal decline and although an encouraging 5635 were sold in 1969, sales the next year fell to 2646 and the X-100 was retired at the end of the 1970 and not replaced.  Most bizarre though was project X-100, a US$75 million (then a lot of what was at the time borrowed money) contract in 1943 awarded to Chrysler to design, machine and nickel-plate the inner surfaces of the cylindrical diffusers required to separate uranium isotopes.  Part of the Manhattan Project which built the world’s first atomic bombs, Chrysler built over 3,500 diffusers used at the plant in Oak Ridge, Tennessee and many were still in service as late as the 1980s.  Not until after the first A-bomb was used against Hiroshima in August 1945 did most of the X-100 project’s workers become aware of the use being made of the precision equipment they were producing.

Built by Ferrari: 1973 Dino 246 GTS with "chairs & flares" options.  The "GTS" stood for "Gran Tourismo Spider" but it was a true targa in the sense codified by Porsche.

The rhyming colloquialism “chairs and flares” (C&F to the Ferrari cognoscenti and these days the early Dinos are an accepted part of the family) is a reference to a pair of (separately available) options available on later production Dino 246s.  The options were (1) seats with inserts (sometimes in a contasting color) in the style used on the 365 GTB/4 (Daytona) & (2) wider Campagnolo Elektron wheels (which the factory only ever referred to by size) which necessitated flared wheel-arches.  In the early 1970s the factory wasn’t too punctilious in the keeping of records so it’s not known how many cars were originally built equipped with the wider (7½ x 14” vs 6½ x 14”) wheels but some privately maintained registers exist and on the basis of these it’s believed production was probably between 200-250 cars from a total run of 3569 (2,295 GT coupés & 1,274 GTS spiders (targa)).  They appear to have been most commonly ordered on UK & US market cars (although the numbers for Europe are described as “dubious” and thought an under-estimate; there are also an unknown number in other countries), the breakdown of verified production being:

246 GT: UK=22, Europe=5, US=5.
246 GTS: UK=21, Europe=2, US=91.

The “chairs and flares” cars are those which have both the Elektron option and the Daytona-style seats but because they were available separately, some were built with only one of the two, hence the existence of other slang terms in the Dino world including “Daytona package”, “Sebring spiders” and, in the UK, the brutish “big arches”.  In 1974, the Dino's option list (in US$) comprised:

Power windows: $270.00
Metallic paint: $270.00
Leather upholstery: $450.00
Daytona type central seat panels: $115.00
Air-conditioning: $770.00
14 x 7½ wheels & fender flares: $680.00
AM/FM/SW radio: $315.00
Electric antenna & speakers: $100.00

At a combined US$795.00, the C&F combo has proved a good investment, now adding significantly to the price of the anyway highly collectable Dino.  Although it's hard to estimate the added value because so many other factors influence calculation, all else being equal, the premium would seem to to be well over US$100,000.  Because it involves only wheels, upholstery and metal, the modifications are technically not difficult to emulate although the price of a modified vehicle will not match that of an original although unlike some of the more radical modifications to Ferraris (such as conversions to roadsters), creating a C&F out of a standard 246 seems not to lower its value.  These things are always relative; in 1974 the C&F option added 5.2% to the Dino GTS's list price and was just under a third the cost of a new small (in US terms a "sub-compact") car such as the Chevrolet Vega (1970-1977).

An enduring design: 2023 Porsche 911 Targa 4 (992).

Porsche didn’t complicate things, in 1966 offering the Targa as an alternative to the familiar coupé, then in series production since 1964.  Briefly, the company flirted with calling the car the 911 Flori but ultimately Targa was preferred and the appropriate trademarks were applied for in 1965, the factory apparently discovering targa in Italian means “number plate” or “license plate” only that year when the translators were working on international editions of the sales brochures.  The now familiar fixed, heated rear screen in safety glass was first offered in 1967 as an alternative to the one in fold-down plastic one and such was the demand it soon became the standard fitting.  The Targa carried over into the 911’s second and third generation being, re-designed for 1993 in a way that dispensed with the roll bar and it wouldn’t be until 2011 the familiar shape returned.

1970 Iso Grifo Targa (Series I, 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) Chevrolet V8, left) and 1971 Iso Grifo Can-Am Targa (Series II, 454 cubic inch (7.4 litre) Chevrolet V8, right).  The raised centre section on the hood (bonnet) of the big-block Grifos was known informally as the "penthouse"; it was required because the induction system sat higher than on the small-block cars.  Not all approved of the penthouse because they found it discordant with the otherwise flowing lines but its brutish functionalism seems a fitting tribute brute force beneath.

Among the small volume manufactures which in the post-war years found a lucrative niche in combining sensuous European coachwork with the cheap, powerful and robust American V8s, there was a focus on two-door coupés because (1) this was the example set by Ferrari and (2) there most demand in the segment clearly existed.  The ecosystem was sent extinct by the first oil shock of the early 1970s but in the era, some did offer convertibles and where not, there were specialists prepared to help.  There was though, the odd targa.  The achingly lovely Iso Grifo spyder (roadster) shown at the Geneva Motor Show in 1964 never reached production but in 1966, less than two years into the Grifo’s life (during which almost 100 had been made), the factory put a targa version on their stand at the Turin Motor Show.  It was only ever available to special order on a POA (price on application) basis and between then and the shuttering of the factory in 1974, only 17 were built, four of which were the Series II Can-Ams with the big-block Chevrolet V8.