Inquire & Enquire

Inquire (pronounced in-kwahyuhr)

(1) To seek information by questioning; to ask.

(2) To make an investigation (usually followed by into).

(3) To seek (obsolete).

(4) To question (a person) (obsolete).

1250–1300: From the Middle English enqueren & anqueren (to ask (a question), ask about, ask for (specific information); learn or find out by asking, seek information or knowledge; to conduct a legal or official investigation (into an alleged offense)), from the Latin inquīrere (to seek for), replacing the Middle English enqueren, from the Old French enquerre, also from Latin.  The construct in Latin was from in- (into) + quaerere (to seek).  The prefix -in is quirky because it can act either to negate or intensify.  The general rule is that when prepended to a noun or adjective, it reinforces the quality signified and when prepended to an adjective, it negates the meaning, the latter mostly in words borrowed from French.  The Latin prefix in- was from the Proto-Italic en-, from the primitive Indo-European n̥- (not), the zero-grade form of the negative particle ne (not) and was akin to ne-, nē & nī.  In Modern English it is from the Middle English in-, from Old English in- (in, into), from the Proto-Germanic in, from the primitive Indo-European en.  Inquiry & inquirer are nouns, inquiring is a noun, verb & adjective, inquires is a verb, inquirable & inquisitive are adjective and inquiringly is an adverb; the noun plural is inquiries.  The verb inquireth is listed by most as archaic and forms such as reinquired & reinquiring have been coined as needed.

So the in- in inquire is not related to in- (not), also a common prefix in Latin and this created a tradition of confusion which persists to this day.  In Ancient Rome, impressus could mean "pressed" or "unpressed; inaudire meant "to hear" but inauditus meant "unheard of; invocatus was "uncalled, uninvited," but invocare was "to call, appeal to".  In Late Latin investigabilis could mean "that may be searched into" or "that cannot be searched into”.  English picked up the confusion and it’s not merely a linguistic quirk because mixing up the meaning of inflammable could have ghastly consequences.  Fortunately, some of the duplicity has died out: Implume, noted from the 1610s meant "to feather," but implumed (from a decade or more earlier meant "unfeathered".  Impliable could be held to mean "capable of being implied" (1865) or "inflexible" (1734).  Impartible in the seventeenth century simultaneously could mean "incapable of being divided" or "capable of being imparted" and, surprisingly, impassionate can mean "free from passion" or "strongly stirred by passion" (used wrongly that certainly could have inintended consequences).  The adjective inanimate was generally understood to indicate "lifeless" but John Donne (1572–1631), when using inanimate as a verb meant "infuse with life or vigor." Irruption is "a breaking in" but irruptible is "unbreakable".

In addition to improve "use to one's profit", Middle English also had the fifteenth century verb improve meaning "to disprove".  To inculpate is "to accuse," but inculpable means "not culpable, free from blame".  Infestive (a creation of the 1560s, from infest) originally meant "troublesome, annoying" but by the 1620s meant "not festive".  Bafflingly, in Middle English, inflexible could mean both "incapable of being bent" or "capable of being swayed or moved".  During the seventeenth century, informed could mean "current in information" formed, animated" or "unformed, formless", an unhelpful situation the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) described as “an awkward use".  Just a bizarre was that in the mid-sixteenth century inhabited meant "dwelt in" yet within half-a-century was being used to describe "uninhabited".  Some dictionaries insist the adjectives unenquired & unenquiring really exist but there’s scant evidence of use.  A noted derivation with some history is inquisitor.  Synonyms and words with a similar sense include examine, inspect, interrogate, investigate, analyze, catechize, explore, grill, hit, knock, probe, check, prospect, pry, query, question, roast, scrutinize, search, seek & sift.

Enquire (pronounced en-kwahyuhr)

A variant form of inquire

Circa 1300: From the Middle English enqueren & anqueren, (to ask (a question), to ask about, to ask for (specific information); learn or find out by asking, seek information or knowledge; to conduct a legal or official investigation (into an alleged offense)), from the Old French enquerre (to ask, inquire about) (which persists in Modern French as enquérir) and directly from the Medieval Latin inquīrere (to seek for).  As long ago as the fourteenth century the spelling of the English word was changed following the Latin model, but, in the annoying way that happens sometimes in English, the half-Latinized enquire persists and some people have even invented “rules” about when it should be used instead of inquire.   Sensibly, the Americans ignore these suggestions and use inquire for all purposes.  In Old French the Latin in- often became en- and such was the influence on Middle English that the form spread and although English developed a strong tendency to revert to the Latin in-, this wasn’t universal, thus pairs such as enquire/inquire which is why there must always be some sympathy for those learning the language.  There was a native form, which in West Saxon usually appeared as on- (as in the Old English onliehtan (to enlighten)) and some of those verbs survived into Middle English (such as inwrite (to inscribe)) but all are said now to be long extinct.

Enquire or inquire?

Lindsay Lohan says the spelling is "inquiry" so that must be right.

The English word was re-spelled as early as the fourteenth century on the Latin model but the half-Latinized "enquire" has never wholly gone away.  Outside of North America, it's not unknown to come across documents where "inquire" & "enquire" both appear, not in tribute to a particular "rule" of use but just because it hasn't been noticed; it's probably most associated with documents which are partially the product of chunks of texts being "cut and paste".  In the US, where the enquire vs inquire "problem" doesn’t exist because inquire is universal, this must seem a strange and pointless squabble because hearing a sentence like "She enquired when the Court of Inquiry was to hold its hearings" would unambiguously be understood and if written down, there could be no confusion if the spelling forms were to appear in either order.  So,  some hold it would be a fine idea if the rest of the English-speaking world followed the sensible lead of the Americans and stuck to "inquire" but history suggests that’s not going to happen and some suggestions for a convention of use have been offered:

(1) Enquire & enquiry are "formal" words to convey the sense of "ask" whereas inquire & inquiry are used to describe some structured form of investigation (such as a "Court of Inquiry").

(2) Enquire is to be used in informal writing and inquire in formal text.

Neither of those suggestions seem to make as much sense as adopting the US spelling and probably just adds a needless layer to a simple word; enquire and inquire mean the same thing: to ask, to seek information, or to investigate. One is therefore unnecessary and enquire should be retired, simply on the basis the Americans already have and there’s lots of them.  Those who resist should follow the one golden rule which is consistency: whatever convention of use is adopted, exclusively it should be used. 

The ultimate court of inquiry, the Spanish Inquisition and the DDF

The Spanish Inquisition, conducting their inquiries.

The Tribunal del Santo Oficio de la Inquisición (Tribunal of the Holy Office of the Inquisition), known famously as the Inquisición española (Spanish Inquisition) was created in 1478 by the Roman Catholic Monarchs, King Ferdinand II (1452–1516; king of Aragon 1479-1516, king of Castile 1475-1504 (as Ferdinand V)) and Queen Isabella I (1451–1504; queen of Castile 1474-1504, queen of Aragon 1479-1504), its remit the enforcement of orthodox Church doctrine in their kingdoms.  Ostensibly established to combat heresy in Spain (though eventually its remit extended throughout the Spanish Empire), the real purpose was to consolidate the power of the monarchy of the newly unified Spanish kingdom.  Its methods were famously brutish and although many records were lost, it's thought close to two hundred-thousand individuals came to the attention of the Inquisition and as many as five-thousand may have been killed; during the tenure of Castilian Dominican friar Tomás de Torquemada (1420–1498), the first grand inquisitor, it's believed some two-thousand were burned at the stake.  Suppressed first by Joseph-Napoléon Bonaparte (1768–1844; king of Naples (1806–1808) and king of Spain (1808–1813)) in 1808, it was restored by Ferdinand VII (1784–1833; king of Spain 1808 & 1813-1830) in 1814, suppressed in 1820, and restored in 1823.  It was finally abolished in 1834 by the Spanish queen regent María Cristina de Borbón (Maria Christina of the Two Sicilies 1806–1878; queen consort of Spain from 1829-1833 and regent of the Kingdom 1833-1840).  Historians have noted that although the Spanish Inquisition didn't last into the twentieth century, there were more than echoes of its methods & techniques witnessed (on both sides) during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939).  

Rome certainly understood the need to enforce doctrine and punish heretics but they wanted control of the processes, aware even then some of the excesses were proving to be counter-productive and the imperative was to create a body under the direct jurisdiction of the Holy See.  Formed in 1542, was emerged was an institution which in recent years has had a few instances of what in commerce (and increasingly by governments too) is called "re-branding".  Originally named the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition, between 1908-1965 it was known as the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office before becoming Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), its best-known prefect (head) being the the German Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (1927–2022) who, after serving as Chief Inquisitor between 1982-2005) was elected pope as Benedict XVI, serving until his unusual (though not unprecedented) resignation in 2013 when he decided to be styled pope emeritus, living in a kind of papal granny flat in the Vatican until his death.  In 2022, the institution was re-named the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF) and despite it all, many continue to refer to it as "The Holy Office" (in public) or "The Inquisition" (in private).  There are now (even when under Cardinal Ratzinger as far as in known) no more torture chambers or burnings at the stake but the DDF remains a significant factional player in curia politics although Vatican watchers have detected a grudging softening in the DDF's expressions of doctrinal rigidity since the election of Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013). 

Artifice

Artifice (pronounced ahr-tuh-fis)

(1) A clever trick or stratagem; a cunning, crafty device or expedient; wile.

(2) Trickery; guile; a crafty but underhanded deception.

(3) Cunning; ingenuity; inventiveness; a trick played out as an ingenious, but artful, ruse.

(4) A skilful or artful contrivance or expedient.

(5) A strategic manoeuvre that uses some clever means to avoid detection or capture; a tactical move to gain advantage.

(6) To construct by means of technical skill or some specialised art (cited by many sources as archaic but still used and useful in this sense).

1525–1535: From the Middle English in the sense of “workmanship, the making of something by craft or skill”, from the fourteenth century Middle French artifice (skill, cunning), from the Old French from the Latin artificium (art, craft, skill, talent, craftsmanship; profession, trade, an employment) from artifex (genitive artificis) (artist, actor; craftsman, master (of a craft or trade); mastermind, schemer; one possessed of a specific skill), the construct being ars- (art; skill) + -fex (from facere (to make; to do)), from the primitive Indo-European root dhe (to set; to put).  As a suffix in Latin, -fex was used to represent a maker or producer.  Synonyms include subterfuge, deception, deceit and duplicity but there’s also an array of associative words such as gimmick, contrivance, duplicity, inventiveness, dodge, manoeuvre, play, scam, savvy, stratagem, machination, ploy, subterfuge, ruse, racket, tactic, expedient, device, wile and gambit.  The original meanings survive but have tended to have receded in use compared with the sense of “crafty; a device; trickery” which emerged in the 1650s.  Artifice is a noun & verb, artificer is a noun and artificing & artificed are verbs; the noun plural is artifices.

Some artifice involved: Pamela Anderson (b 1967), mostly real.

The adjective artificial dates from the late fourteenth century in the sense of “something not natural or spontaneous”, from the Old French artificial, from the Latin artificialis “of or belonging to art”, again from artificium.  The adverb artificially (by art or human skill and contrivance) dates from the early fifteenth century while the noun artificiality (appearance of art; insincerity) emerged in the 1760s, the earlier form was artificialness, documented in the 1590s; the Middle English artificy survived until the early fifteenth century.  In English, the earliest use seems to be the phrase “artificial day” (that part of the day from sunrise to sunset (as opposed to the “natural” days 24 hours)).   The early fifteenth century idea of something artificial being something The meaning “made by man, contrived by human skill and labor” was the basis of the morphing in the 1700s to “anything made in imitation of, or as a substitute for, what is natural, whether real (light, tears) or not (teeth, flowers).  The third sense (these all still running in parallel) of “full of affectation, insincere” was in use by the 1590s, the subtlety different “fictitious, assumed, not genuine” by the 1640s.  So the use depends on context: when people no peak of artificial intelligence, the implication is of “a machine which can emulate and improve upon human thought processes” and not “fake intelligence” which means something else, although, given some of the dubious results which have been provided by the early implementations of generative AI, it’s clear some fake intelligence has been produced.

The Artifice.

Founded in 2009 and based in Sweden, the Artifice is an English-language on-line magazine focusing on popular culture topics such as film, manga, anime, television, comics, on-line gaming and such.  It's a most interesting venture because the model is a platform available to anyone writing in English, submissions vetted by an editorial panel which provides criticism and suggests improvements, those published subsequently invited to contribute to the editorial process.  It's an intriguing collaborative approach, something really practical in the on-line environment and vaguely analogous with open-source software, the difference being Artifice's authors provide their content as a finished product, not something intended for others to modify and distribute though doubtlessly that happens.

The abbreviation AI is now familiar because of the sudden rise in interest in packaged generative artificial intelligence, prompted by the availability of products such as ChatGPT, ClickUp or the still embryonic extensions which bolt a version onto Google’s & Microsoft’s web browsers (Chrome and Bing respectively); Collins Dictionary named “AI” their “word of the Year 2023”, noting the sudden spike of interest in the topic wasn’t reflected in an increase on-line of the use of the words “artificial” or “intelligence” because both in general use and as a search term, “AI” had become ubiquitous.  Artificial intelligence (the science and engineering of making intelligent machines) was coined in 1956 but the abbreviation came into use only in 1971.  Since 1894, within various parts of veterinary science and livestock management, AI had been used to refer to “artificial insemination”, a mechanical form of introducing semen where required.  Most associated with cattle, when some artificiality was introduced to human reproduction, the term “in vitro fertilisation” (IVF) was preferred although it is a very different process in which fertilisation is achieved by combining an egg with sperm in vitro (from the Latin, translated literally as “in the glass”, hence the memorable (if misleading) early phrase “test-tube baby.  Because “in vitro” has become so common in English it’s probably assimilated and thus (in this context) no longer italicized.  In this it’s similar to something like the even more common de facto which, because assimilated for most purposes, is not italicized except when used in the context of legal proceedings, a nod to its status as Latin legal language.

Beware of imitations: Bees can’t be fooled but humans need a guide.

Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) "table talk", his meandering discussions (often monologues) over meals or other informal gatherings were notoriously repetitive and quite a strain for his regular audience to sit through.  Some of the topics were predicable but one subject often mentioned was artificial honey, his interest in the concocted stuff apparently because he was provided with much of the sticky syrup in his rations while serving in the Imperial German Army (1871–1919) during World War I (1914-1918).  His sweet tooth was well-documented and whether or not it was his influence, the substance appeared in the list Ernährungsrichtlinie für die Verbrauchslenkung (Nutrition guidelines for consumption control), published in the March 1939 edition Zeitschrift für Spiritusindustrie (Spirit Industry Magazine), the presence of artificial honey and milk powder indicating the regime's multi-pronged approach to food security (although they also sponsored research on fat made from coal which sounds less tempting).  Of late, artificial honey has become controversial in a number of jurisdictions, not because of concerns about the safety of the product but because it is sometimes represented as “natural honey”.

Duplicity

Duplicity (pronounced doo-plis-i-tee or dyoo-plis-i-tee)

(1) Deceitfulness in speech or conduct, as by speaking or acting in two different ways to different people concerning the same matter; double-dealing.

(2) An act or instance of such deceitfulness.

(3) In law, the act or fact of including two or more offenses in one count, or charge, as part of an indictment, thus violating the requirement that each count contain only a single offense.

1400–1450: From the Late Middle English, from the Old French duplicite, from the Late Latin duplicitatem (nominative duplicitas (doubleness)).  Technically, the word wa borrowed from Latin duplicāre (double), present active infinitive of duplicō and the Medieval Latin duplicitās differed with ite replacing itās.  The notion is of being "double" in one's conduct ultimately is derived from the Ancient Greek diploos (treacherous, double-minded) which translates literally as "twofold, double".  Related in Medieval Latin was ambiguity, noun of quality from duplex, genitive (duplicis (two-fold)).

Duplicity good and bad

Because such conduct is inherent to human interaction, there are many words either similar in meaning or a synonym of duplicity.  Duplicity is the form of deceitfulness that leads one to give two impressions, either or both of which may be false.  Deceit is the quality that prompts intentional concealment or perversion of truth for the purpose of misleading.  The quality of guile leads to craftiness in the use of deceit; one uses guile and trickery to attain one's ends. Hypocrisy is the pretence of possessing virtuous qualities such as sincerity, goodness or devotion.  Fraud refers usually to the practice of subtle deceit or duplicity by which one may derive benefit at another's expense.  Trickery is the quality that leads to the use of tricks and habitual deception.  In modern English usage, the most common sense of duplicity is “deceitfulness.”  The roots of this meaning are in the initial dupl from the Latin duplex (twofold, or double).  We do seem a duplicitous lot.

Alexander Haig (1924–2010; US Secretary of State 1981-1982) & Ronald Reagan (1911–2004; US President 1981-1989) (left) and Lord Carrington (1919–2018; UK Foreign Secretary 1979-1982) & Margaret Thatcher (1925–2013; UK Prime Minister 1979-1990) (right).

To accuse someone duplicity is usually to allege or suggest something negative, the idea that someone has acted in a manner perhaps not dishonest but certainly misleading or dishonorable.  However there are fields of endeavor where the successfully duplicitous are often admired and the most Machiavellian can be held in awe.  In international relations, it’s true in the upper reaches of diplomacy.

Duplicity, art and science: Haig and Carrington, the White House, 26 February 1981.

More than General Colin Powell (b 1937; US Secretary of State 2001-2005) and more even than General Dwight Eisenhower (1890–1969; US President 1953-1961), General Alexander Haig (1924-2010) was an exemplar of that uniquely Washington DC creature, the political soldier, whose career shuttled between the military, diplomacy and politics.  After a meeting in 1981, Haig was heard to remark the UK Foreign Secretary, Lord Carrington, was a "duplicitous bastard".  Beyond the beltway, that would be a disparaging comment, but, in the world of international diplomacy, it’s more an expression of admiration of professional skill.

Mean Girls (2004), a story of duplicity, low skulduggery, Machiavellian manipulation, lies & deceit.  As a morality tale, the message can be reduced to: “Women would rather hear brilliant lies than honest truths”.

Inflammable & Flammable

Inflammable (pronounced in-flam-uh-buhl)

(1) Easily set on fire; combustible; incendiary, combustible, inflammable, burnable, ignitable (recommended only for figurative use).

(2) Easily aroused or excited, as to passion or anger; irascible; fiery; volatile, choleric.

1595–1605: From the Medieval Latin inflammābilis, the construct being the Classical Latin inflammā(re) (to set on fire) + -bilis (from the Proto-Italic -ðlis, from the primitive Indo-European i-stem form -dhli- of -dhlom (instrumental suffix).  Akin to –bulum, the suffix -bilis is added to a verb to form an adjectival noun of relationship to that verb (indicating a capacity or worth of being acted upon).  The construct of the Classical Latin inflammare (to set on fire) was -in (in, on) + flamma (flame).  As an indication of shifts in use, the verb inflame & noun inflammation are now most commonly used in clinical medicine to describe swellings, a site especially "reddish" often called "angry".  Inflammable is a noun & adjective, inflammation, inflammableness & inflammasome & inflammability are nouns, inflammatory is an adjective and inflammably is an adverb; the noun plural is inflammables. 

Flammable (pronounced flam-uh-buhl)

Easily set on fire; combustible; incendiary, combustible, inflammable, burnable, ignitable (technically a back-formation from inflammable).

1805–1815: From the Classical Latin flammā(re) (to set on fire) + -ble (the Latin suffix forming adjectives and means “capable or worthy of”).  Flammable is an adjective, flammability is a noun and flammably is an adverb; the noun plural is flammabilities.

Google ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure): Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Need for standardization

Flammable and inflammable came to the same thing.  English, a mongrel vacuum-cleaner of a language, has many anomalies born of the haphazard adoption of words from other tongues but the interchangeability of flammable and inflammable is unfortunate because of the use in signs to warn people of potentially fatal danger.

Using flammable and inflammable to mean the same thing is confusing and at least potentially dangerous and the recommended use is flammable (things prone to catching fire) and non-flammable (things not).  To add another layer of meaning less language-dependent, borrowing from semiotics, danger should be indicated with red, safety with green.

In- often is used as a prefix with adjectives and nouns to indicate the opposite of the word it precedes (eg inaction, indecisive, inexpensive etc).  Given that, it would seem reasonable to assume inflammable is the opposite of flammable and the reason for the potentially deadly duplication is historic.  Inflammable actually pre-dates flammable, the word derived from the Latin verb inflammare (to set on fire), this verb also the origin of the modern meaning “to swell or to provoke angry feelings”, hence the link between setting something on fire and rousing strong feelings in someone.  So, at a time when Latin was more influential, inflammable made sense.  However, as the pull of Latin receded, words with in- (as a negative prefix) became a bigger part of the lexicon and the confusion was created; by early in the 1800s, flammable increasingly came to be used and in the next century, as the use and storage of flammable substances grew, use was widespread.  The modern convention is (or should be) to use flammable literally (to refer to things which catch fire) and inflammable figuratively (to describe the arousal of passions, the swelling of tissue etc.  Surprisingly, the rules applying to warning signs have yet to adopt this standardization.

The Mean Girls (2004) Burn Book (left) and Lindsay Lohan burning an “inflammatory” tabloid magazine, Lindsay Lohan: The Obsession, GQ Magazine, October 2006.

Uses figurative and literal: In Mean Girls, the Burn Book gained its notoriety from being packed with inflammatory comments.  Lindsay Lohan in 2006 picked up the concept in a photo-shoot by Terry Richardson (b 1965) for GQ (Gentlemen's Quarterly) magazine.  Titled Lindsay Lohan: The Obsession, the theme was her as a case-study of the way “tabloid publications” handled celebrity culture, the joke being a magazine with “inflammatory content about her” being literally set aflame, the glossy paper of course being flammable.  It’s appears a consensus in the “media studies” crew that this aspect of “tabloid culture” peaked in the first dozen-odd years of the twenty-first century, the reasons for that including (1) the period having an exceptionally large cast of suitable subjects, (2) smart phones with HD (high-definition) cameras becoming consumer items meaning potential content proliferated (ie what once would not have been photographed now became available to editors as low cost images) and (3) social media sites not having attained critical mass, all factors which at the time enabled the lower-end glossies to flourish.  Of course, what's not certain is the math of the "cause & effect".  Was what at the time seemed an "exceptionally large cast of suitable subjects" a fluke of history which encouraged the taking of photographs and their subsequent publication or did the growth in number of down-market glossies mean more "celebrities" had to be "manufactured" to provide the content?   

1972 Ford Ranchero 500 (left) and a circa 1972 Ford Pinto (right).

“Hot Rod Flames” first became popular when the West Coast hot rod community began adding them to their modified machines.  Rendered usually in red, orange and yellow to emulate actual flames, in the decades since they’ve appeared in many colors, sometimes in hues which would never be seen in nature and they’re now a commodity with templates and adhesives widely available; the motif was also picked up by the tattoo community.  Traditionally, when applied to a hot rod or other modified vehicle, the placement of the lick of the flames was quasi-realistic in that the effect was intended to be that of a flaming car in motion.  One widely circulated image however was of a Ford Pinto (1970-1980) with the flames travelling “the other way”: from the back towards the passengers.  The artwork was a sardonic comment on the Pinto’s reputation for bursting aflame if struck from behind by another vehicle, the allegation being Pintos were unusually flammable (the media tended to prefer the more dramatic “explosive”) in such cases because of the placement of the gas (petrol) tank and design of the fuel system.  In truth the Pinto’s susceptibility probably was little different from that of many other vehicles with a similar layout but what gained the modest machine notoriety was the discovery of “inflammatory” comments in internal corporate memoranda in which executives discussed the relative costs of rectifying the problem compared with the likely costs of legal settlements compensating incinerated victims and their families.

Combustibles magazine (4 December, 1972).

The troubling duplicity of meaning was explored by the editors of Combustibles magazine in their edition of 4 December, 1972.  There never was a Combustibles magazine (which may suggest a gap in the market for the entrepreneurial) but an archive of the (factitious) covers is maintained in the Lillian Virginia Mountweazel Research Collection.  Ms Mountweasel (1942-1973) was a creation of Karen Tweedy-Holmes (b 1942), then an editor at the New Columbia Encyclopedia who, for the publication's 1975 edition, needed a bogus entry to be inserted as a "copyright trap", the idea being that were the "facts" included to appear in any other publication, they'd obviously been plagiarized because the sad tale of Ms Mountweazel's life and demise appeared nowhere else.  The entry read: “Mountweazel, Lillian Virginia, 1942–1973, American photographer, b. Bangs, Ohio.  Turning from fountain design to photography in 1963, Mountweazel produced her celebrated portraits of the South Sierra Miwok in 1964.  She was awarded government grants to make a series of photo-essays of unusual subject matter, including New York City buses, the cemeteries of Paris and rural American mailboxes.  The last group was exhibited extensively abroad and published as Flags Up! (1972).  Mountweazel died at 31 in an explosion while on assignment for Combustibles magazine.”  That same year, writing in The New Yorker, Henry Alford (b 1962) suggested "mountweasel" as a term to be used for copyright traps and dictionaries agreed; to this day it remains the preferred generic form and for this purpose, (unlike when used of the doomed heroine), mountweasel is used without an initial capital.

Combustibles magazine (Special Issue, 4 June, 1973).

Impressed by Ms Tweedy-Holmes' (there can have been few finer names for a lexicographer) creation, the curators of the Lillian Virginia Mountweazel Research Collection fleshed-out the tale of the life and death of the tragic American fountain designer turned photographer, most noted for her Flags Up! project, a commissioned series of images of the mailboxes of rural America.  Her other assignments included “The Cemeteries of Paris”, “The Whimsical History of Fireworks” and “Disturbing Revelations” about Nazi rocket scientist Wernher von Braun (1912–1977) who in 1945 had been employed by the US government, suddenly rather more interested in the missiles the German could help them build rather than his wartime use of slave labor.  A darker side also was revealed: Flags Up!, although promoted as the USPS (US Postal Service) using “captivating imagery” to demonstrate how the new ZIP codes enhanced “the efficiency and modernization of the postal system”, actually was funded by the CCF (Congress for Cultural Freedom), a CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) “front organization” used during the Cold War to produce anti-Soviet propaganda.  The “messaging” in Flags Up! was to show the way freedom of thought and the expression of ideas was allowed freely to flow between Americans, however remote they might be.  Of course, also included is the “special issue” of Combustibles (4 June, 1973) in which was announced the death the previous day of Ms Mountweazel, killed in the crash of a Soviet Tupolev Tu-144 SST (supersonic transport) passenger airliner during the 1973 Paris Air Show at Le Bourget Airport.  In the accident, all six crew members died along with eight in the nearby village of Goussainville, Val-d'Oise where Ms Mountweasel had been researching “the negative health effects of sound pollution in communities near major international airports.”  After her death, photojournalism scholar Pierre Menard, acknowledged Ms Mountweazel as “one of the most important in the world of pyromaniac publishing.”  Pierre Menard was also factitious, the name borrowed from Pierre Menard, autor del Quijote (Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote (1939)), a short story by the Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986).

Sinister

Sinister (pronounced sin-uh-ster)

(1) Threatening or portending evil, harm, or trouble; ominous.

(2) Bad, evil, base, or wicked; fell; treacherous, especially in some mysterious way.

(3) Unfortunate; disastrous; unfavorable.

(4) Of or on the left side; left-handed (mostly archaic except as a literary device).

(5) In heraldry, noting the side of an escutcheon or achievement of arms that is to the left of the bearer (as opposed to dexter), ie from the bearer's point of view and therefore on the spectator's right.

(6) Wrong, as springing from indirection or obliquity; perverse; dishonest (obsolete).

1375-1425: From the Middle English sinistre (unlucky), from the Old French sinistra (left), from the Latin sinestra (left hand) from the Proto-Italic senisteros, of unknown origin, but possibly from a euphemism from the same primitive Indo-European root as the Sanskrit सनीयान् (sanīyān) (more useful, more advantageous) with the contrastive or comparative suffix -ter, (as in the Latin dexter (on the right-hand)) familiar in the modern “dexterity”.  Sinister is an adjective, sinisterly is an adverb and sinisterness is a noun.  Unlike some other adjectives applied to people, such as exquisite, sinister never evolved into a self-definitional noun.  The alternative spelling sinistre is long obsolete but those for whom historical authenticity matters should note sinister was once accented on the middle syllable by poets including Shakespeare, Milton and Dryden.

Evolution of Sinister

The now universal meanings (evil and such), emerged in the late fifteenth century, a sense inherited from the fourteenth century Old French senestre & sinistre (contrary, false; unfavorable; to the left) picked up directly from the Classical Latin sinestra (left, on the left side (opposite of dexter)).  Sinister had been used in heraldry from the 1560s to indicate "left, to the left" and left in heraldry indicated illegitimacy and in that it preserves the literal sense from Latin of "on or from the left side".  In zoology, the botanists in 1856 created the adjective sinistrorse a word to describe the direction of spiral structures in nature, from Latin sinistrorsus (toward the left side) the construct being sinist- (left) + versus (turned), past participle of vertere (to turn), from the primitive Indo-European root wer- (to turn, bend).  In the scientific literature it was paired with dextrorse but a broader adoption was doomed by confusion; it was never agreed what was the correct point of view to reckon the leftward or rightward spiraling.  

Peter Dutton (b 1970; Liberal-National Party MP for Dickson (Queensland, Australia) since 2001).  Sometimes, a sinister look is just a matter of chance, there being nothing sinister about Mr Dutton (although he has never denied being a Freemason).

The former Research Institute For Experimental Medicine, Berlin, Germany.  Built for the purpose of housing live animal testing facilities, and until 2003 known as the Central Animal Laboratories of the Free University of Berlin, its common name among Berliners (long known for their sardonic humor) the Mäusebunker (Mouse Bunker). 

Those working in visual media, photographers, cinematographers and painters use tricks of lighting and angle to convey a sense of the sinister, even buildings and landscapes, carefully framed, can invoke the feeling.  Although it can be because of a structure's historical associations, when a building is described as "sinister" it's a thing usually of subjective perception, induced often by a a dark, eerie, or foreboding appearance. There are a number of elements which may be involved:

(1) The architectural style, lighting and choice of materials can contribute to a perception of sinisterness, buildings in the Gothic or Brutalist tradition with their sharp angles, heaviness and use of slabs of dark stone noted for this.

(2) A notorious historical context can impart a meaning which transcends the actual architecture.  Buildings known to be associated with dark historical events or periods in history can gain a reputation as being sinister.  Places once the sites of suffering, torture or death gain this reputation such as the Lubyanka Building in Moscow.  Although an inoffensive Neo-Baroque structure in yellow brick, for most of its life it's been the home of one branch or other of the Russian internal agency, most famously the KGB.

(3) The surrounding environment can make an otherwise charming building seem mysterious and threatening.  Some will find a building standing alone in an isolated area or surrounded by dark and overgrown vegetation can provoke feeling of unease.

Lindsay Lohan as she would appear if left-handed, signing photographs with Sharpie (as recommended by Pippa Middleton), Rachael Ray Show, New York City, January 2019 (digitally mirrored image).  As a general principle, pink is not associated with sinisterness (although crooked Hillary Clinton in pink pantsuit would be most sinister).

A quirk from antiquity is that in matters of religion, to Romans sinister meant auspicious whereas for Greeks it meant inauspicious.  The curious duplicity arose because the Latin word was used in augury in the sense of "unlucky; unfavorable" a natural inheritance because omens, especially the flight of birds seen on the left hand were regarded as portending misfortune thus sinister acquired a sense of "harmful, adverse".  This was from the influence of Greek, reflecting the early Hellenic practice of facing north when observing omens.  In genuine Roman auspices, the augurs faced south so the left was thought good and favorable.  The Romans were a superstitious lot but seem to have managed this strange dichotomy of meaning without difficulty, sinister suggesting something bad except in the temple when it meant something good.

The salute associated with the Nazi regime (1933-1945) has long been regarded as something sinister or worse.  The pantsuit wasn't thought sinister until it became emblematic of crooked Hillary Clinton.