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

Monday, October 20, 2025

Etching

Etching (pronounced ech-ing)

(1) The art, act or process of making designs or pictures on a metal plate, glass etc, by the corrosive action of an acid instead of by a burin.

(2) An impression, as on paper, taken from an etched plate.

(3) The design so produced.

(4) A flat (usually metal) plate bearing such a design.

1625–1635: The construct was etch + -ing.  The verb etch was from the Dutch etsen (to engrave by eating away the surface of with acids), from the German ätzen (to etch), from the Old High German azzon (to cause to bite or feed), from the Proto-Germanic atjaną, causative of etaną (to eat), from the primitive Indo-European root ed- (to eat) (from these sources English gained “eat”).  The suffix –ing was from the Middle English -ing, from the Old English –ing & -ung (in the sense of the modern -ing, as a suffix forming nouns from verbs), from the Proto-West Germanic –ingu & -ungu, from the Proto-Germanic –ingō & -ungō. It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian -enge, the West Frisian –ing, the Dutch –ing, The Low German –ing & -ink, the German –ung, the Swedish -ing and the Icelandic –ing; All the cognate forms were used for the same purpose as the English -ing).  The “etching scribe” was a needle-sharp steel tool for incising into plates in etching and the production of dry points.  Etching is a noun & verb; the noun plural is etchings.

The noun was the present participle and gerund of etch (the verbal noun from the verb etch) and was used also in the sense of “the art of engraving”; by the 1760s, it was used also to mean “a print etc, made from an etched plate" and the plates themselves.  The term etching (to cut into a surface with an acid or other corrosive substance in order to make a pattern) is most associated with the creation of printing plates for the production of artistic works but the technique was used also as a way to render decorative patterns on metal.  In modern use, it’s also a term used in the making of circuit boards.  In idiomatic use (often as “etched in the memory”), it’s used of events, ideas etc which are especially memorable (for reasons good and ill) and as a slang word meaning “to sketch; quickly to draw”.  The Etch A Sketch drawing toy was introduced 1960 by Ohio Art Company; a kind of miniature plotter, it was a screen with two knobs which moved a stylus horizontally & vertically, displacing an aluminum powder to produce solid lines.  To delete the creation, the user physically shook the device which returned the powder to its original position, blanking the screen.

Rembrandt's Jan Asselyn, Painter (1646) (left) and Faust (circa 1652).  Rembrandt (Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606-1669)) wasn’t the most prolific etcher but remains among the most famous and his output provides an illustrative case-study in the evolution of his mastering of the technique, his early work really quite diffident compared with his later boldness.

What came to be known as etching gained the name from the Germanic family of words meaning “eat & “to eat”, the transferred sense an allusion to the acid which literally would “eat the metal”.   Etching is an intaglio (from the Italian intagliare (to engrave)) technique in printmaking, a term which includes methods such as hard and soft ground etching, engraving, dry-point, mezzotint and aquatint, all of which use an ink transferring process.  In this, a design is etched into a plate, the ink added over the whole surface plate before a scrim (historically starched cheesecloth) is used to force the ink into the etched areas and remove any excess.  Subsequently, the plate (along with dampened paper) is run through a press at high pressure, forcing the paper into etched areas containing the ink.  The earliest known signed and dated etching was created by Swiss Renaissance goldsmith Urs Graf (circa 1485-circa 1525) in 1513 and it’s from those who worked with gold that almost all forms of engraving are ultimately derived.

Lindsay Lohan, 1998, rendered in the style of etchings.

A phrase which was so beloved by comedy writers in the early-mid twentieth century that it became a cliché was “Want to come up and see my etchings?”, a euphemism for seduction.  Probably now a “stranded phrase”, the saying was based on some fragments of text in a novel by Horatio Alger Jr (1832–1899), a US author regarded as the first to formalize as genre fiction the “rags-to-riches” stories which had since the early days of the republic been the essence of the “American Dream” although it wasn’t until the twentieth century the term came into common use (often it’s now used ironically).

The practice of making etchings, woodcuts or engravings of famous paintings became popular, both artistically and commercially (which may for this purpose be much the same thing) in the late sixteenth century and developed over the next 250-odd years, an evolution tied closely to technological progress in printmaking and the materials available to artists.  The trend seems to have been accelerated by the spread in northern Europe (notably certain districts in Antwerp, Rome and Paris) of copperplate etching & engraving and while it may be dubious to draw conclusions from the works which have survived, the artists most re-produced clearly included Titian (Tiziano Vecellio, circa 1490-1576), Raphael (Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino, 1483–1520) and Michelangelo (Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni; 1475–1564), the most prolific in the business of reproductive engraving including the Dutch specialist Cornelis Cort (circa 1533–circa 1578 and known in Italy where he spent his final years as Cornelio Fiammingo) and the Flemish Sadeler family, scions of which operated in many European cities.

Melencolia I (Melancholy I (1514)), etching by the German painter & printmaker Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528).

By the seventeenth century, the practice was well established and an entrenched part of the art market, fulfilling some of the functions which would later be absorbed by photography and Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640), among others, employed in his studio engravers whose task was to reproduce his paintings for sale with those etchings available in a variety of sizes (and thus price-points so there’s little which is new in the structures of the modern art market).  Again, in the eighteenth century, technological determinism interplayed with public taste as techniques were refined to adapt the works to what wasn’t exactly a production line but certainly an arrangement which made possible larger and more rapid volumes with printing houses commissioning runs (which could be in the hundreds) of engravings following (faithfully and not) British and Continental paintings, advances in mezzotint meaning a greater tonal range had become possible, mimicking the light and shade of oil paintings.  In genteel homes, various institutions and even museums, it was entirely respectable to have hanging: “prints after the Old Masters”.

But as technology giveth, so can it taketh away and it was the late eighteenth century invention of lithography and, a few decades later photography, which triggered a decline in demand, the constantly improving quality of the new mediums gradually displacing reproductive etching in the marketplace although the tradition didn’t die as artists such as Francisco Goya (1746–1828), Eugène Delacroix (1798–1863) and Édouard Manet (1832–1883) maintained (or, in a sense, “revived”) etching as a creative rather than reproductive discipline and historians regards the early-mid nineteenth century as the era in which etching became a legitimate genre in art and not merely a means cheaply of distributing representations of existing works.

Self portrait: reflection (1996), etching by Lucian Freud (1922–2011).

Under modern copyright law, as a general principle, the selling of etchings of works still in copyright is not lawful without the permission from the holder of the rights and while details differ between jurisdictions, the basic rule of modern law (the Berne Convention, EU directives, national statutes) is that the sale (or even public display) of a reproduction or derivative work (the latter something which obviously follows without being an obvious duplicate of a copyrighted artwork) requires the consent of the copyright owner.  That protection tends in most jurisdictions to last 70 years after the death of the artist (the “life + 70” rule) and what matters is not that a reproduction is new (in the sense of the physical object) but that it is derivative because (1) to a high degree it emulates the composition, form(s), and expression of the original and (2) in appearance it to a high degree resembles a pre-existing, protected work.  Thus, if produced and offered for sale without permission, the object will infringe on the rights of whoever holds exclusive or delegated rights of reproduction or adaptation.  With exact or close replicas it’s not difficult for court to determine whether rights have been violated but at the margins, such as where works are “in the style of”, of “influenced by”, judgments are made on a case-by-case basis, the best publicized in recent years being those involving pop music.

The Lovers (circa 1528), etching by Parmigianino (Girolamo Francesco Maria Mazzola, 1503-1540) of the Italian Mannerist school.

All that means is one (usually) can sell reproductions of works by those dead for at least 70 years and even works “in their style” as long as there’s no attempt to misrepresent them as the product of their original artist’s hand.  There are in copyright exceptions such as “fair dealing” & “fair use” but their range is narrow and limited to fields such as criticism, review, education or satire and does not extend to normal commercial transactions.  Additionally, there’s a work-around in that if something is found to have been sufficiently “transformed”, it can be regarded as a new work but this exception tightly is policed and the threshold high.  Additionally, in recent years, as museums and galleries have put content on-line, what has emerged is the additional complication of such an institution hanging on its walls paintings long out of copyright yet asserting copyright on its commissioned photographs of those works.  That development must have delighted lawyers working in the lucrative field but the courts came to read-down the scope, most following the principles explained in an action before the US Federal District Court (Bridgeman Art Library v. Corel Corp., 36 F. Supp. 2d 191 (S.D.N.Y. 1999), which held (1) copyright in a photograph can in many cases exist but, (2) if a photograph is a “purely mechanical copy of a public-domain work” there usually no protection, even if the taking of the image required technical skill in lighting, angle selection and such.

Morphinomanes (Morphine Addicts, 1887), etching and and drypoint by French artist Albert Besnard (1849–1934).

There was still something for the lawyers because inherently there remained two separate layers of rights at play: (1) copyright (intellectual property) which belongs usually to the artist or their estate and (2) the property rights (ownership of the physical object) which are held by whomever may possess lawful title to the object (this may align with possession but not of necessity).  In other words a museum will likely own the paint & canvas yet not the copyright, something analogous with the discovery made by the few diligent souls who troubled themselves to read the small print they’d agreed to when installing software: in most cases one had lawful title to the physical media (diskette, CD, DVD etc) but often nothing more than a revocable licence to use a single instance of the software. It’s possible lawfully to produce and sell etchings of Goya (the artist having had the decency to drop dead more than 70 years ago) but one may not without permission reproduce or trace from a museum’s copyrighted photo of a Goya (and institutions sometimes maintain separate conditions of use for low and high-resolution images).  Even if one paints, draws or etches by hand, depending on this and that, a court can still hold there’s been a “substantial reproduction” of the composition, colour and such has been effected and thus there’s been an infringement of the underlying copyright.  So, the rules in this area are (1) proceed with caution if producing art not wholly original and (2) if a young lady is asked: “Want to come up and see my etchings?”, she should proceed with caution.

Saturday, September 27, 2025

Hellacious

Hellacious (pronounced he-ley-shuhs)

(1) Horrible, awful, hellish, agonizing

(2) Nasty, repellent.

(3) Formidably difficult.

(4) In slang, remarkable, astonishing, unbelievable, unusual.

1930s: US campus slang, the construct being from hell + -acious.  Hell dates from pre 900 and was from the Middle English Hell, from the Old English hel & hell (nether world, abode of the dead, infernal regions, place of torment for the wicked after death).  In the sense of “pour” it was cognate with the Old High German hella & hellia (source of the Modern German Hölle), the Icelandic hella (to pour), the Norwegian helle (to pour), the Swedish hälla (to pour), the Old Norse hel & hella and the Gothic halja.  It was related to the Old English helan (to cover, hide) and to hull.  The Old English gained hel & hell from the Proto-Germanic haljō (the underworld) & halija (one who covers up or hides something), the source also of the Old Frisian helle, the Old Saxon hellia, the Dutch hel, the Old Norse hel, the German Hölle & the Gothic halja (hell).  The meaning in the early Germanic languages was derived from the sense of a "concealed place", hence the Old Norse hellir meaning "cave or cavern", from the primitive Indo-European root kel (to cover, conceal, save).  In sacred art, Hell, whether frozen or afire, is often depicted as a cavernous place.  Hell is a noun & verb; hellman, hellcat, hellhound & hellfare are nouns and hellish, helllike, hellproof & helly are adjectives; the noun plural is hells.

In the sense of “the underworld”, it was cognate with the Saterland Frisian Hälle (hell), the West Frisian hel (hell), the Dutch hel (hell), the German Low German Hell (hell), the German Hölle (hell), the Norwegian helvete (hell) and the Icelandic hel (the abode of the dead, death). The English traditions of use were much influenced by Norse mythology and the Proto-Germanic forms.  In the Norse myths, Halija (one who covers up or hides something) was the name of the daughter of Loki who rules over the evil dead in Niflheim, the lowest of all worlds (from nifl (mist)) and it was not uncommon for pagan concepts and traditions to be grafted onto Christian rituals and idiom.  Hell was used figuratively to describe a state of misery or bad experience (of which there must have been many in the Middle Ages) since the late fourteenth century and as an expression of disgust by the 1670s.  In eighteenth century England, there were a number of Hellfire Clubs, places where members of the elite could indulge their “immoral proclivities”.  The clubs were said to attract many politicians.

The suffix –acious suffix was used to form adjectives from nouns and verb stems and produced many familiar forms (audacious from audacity, sagacious from sage, fallacious from fallacy etc).  There were also formations which became rare or were restricted to specialized fields including fumacious ((1) smoky or (2) fond of smoking tobacco), lamentacious (characterized by lamentation (sorrow, distress or regret)), marlacious (containing large quantities of marl (in geology, a mixed earthy substance, consisting of carbonate of lime, clay, and possibly sand, in very variable proportions, and accordingly designated as calcareous, clayey, or sandy), and punacious (an individual prone to punning (making puns).  The suffix was attractive also when coining fanciful terms such as quizzacious (mocking or satirical (based on the verb quiz (in the sense of “to mock”) and bodacious.  Bodacious remains probably the best known in this genre and seems to have begun as US slang, south of the Mason-Dixon Line and was (as bodaciously) documented as early as 1837 but may previously have been part of the oral tradition.  Etymologists conclude it was either (1) a blend of bold and audacious or a back-formation from bodyaciously (bodily, totally, root and branch) which seems to have been most prevalent is South Carolina where it was used in the sense of “the process of totally wrecking something”.  In the US the word evolved to mean (1) audacious and unrestrained, (2) incorrigible and insolent and (3) impressively great in size, and enormous; extraordinary.  In the early twentieth century, apparently influenced by campus use (presumably male students in this linguistic vanguard) it was a synonym for “a sexy, attractive girl” and this may have influenced users in the internet age who seem to have assumed first element came directly from “body”.

Of being hungry in the heat: Fox News, July 2006.

According to linguistic trend-setters Fox News, “hellacious” is the best word to describe the state of being “hot & hungry” so it’s not a portmanteau like “hangry” (one who is “hungry & angry”, the construct being h(ungry) + angry) but Fox News says it’s the best word so it must be true.  Hellacious was likely from the tradition of audacious, sagacious, vivacious etc and came to be a word with intensive or augmentative force.  Because it can mean something negative (horrible, awful, hellish, agonizing, nasty, repellent etc), something challenging (formidably difficult) or (used as slang) something positive (remarkable, astonishing, unbelievable, unusual), the context in which it’s used can be important in determining quite the sense intended.  Even then, if there’s not enough to work with, an author’s meaning can be ambiguous.  Fort the fastidious the comparative is “more hellacious” and the superlative “most hellacious” and the (rare) alternative spellings are helatious & hellaceous.  Hellacious is an adjective, hellaciousness is a noun, hellaciously is an adverb.

Google ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure).

For technical reasons this should not be taken too seriously but Google’s ngram appears to suggest use of “hellacious” has spiked every time the US has elected as president the Republican Party nominee, sharp increases in use associated with the terms of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989), George W Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; US president 2001-2009) and Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025).  Political junkies can make of this what the will.  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.

“Hellacious” appears in many lists of obscure words, often with an explanatory note with a parenthesized “rare” although nobody seem yet to classify it “archaic” and it’s certainly not “extinct”.  Improbably (or perhaps not), the word made a rare appearance when an E-mail from Sarah, Duchess of York (Sarah Ferguson; b 1959) to convicted paedophile Jeffrey Epstein (1953–2019) was published in England by the tabloid press and what was of interest was (1) her choice of words, (2) the date on which those words were written and (3) her previously expressed views on the man.  What prompted her in 2011 to write the E-mail was Epstein’s reaction to the duchess having a few weeks earlier, in an interview with the Evening Standard, publicly distanced herself from the disgraced financier, apologizing, inter-alia, for having accepted his gift of Stg£15,000, declaring she would “have nothing ever to do with him” again, that her involvement with him had been a “gigantic error of judgment”, adding “I abhor paedophilia and any sexual abuse of children”.  She promised never again to make contact.  Just to ensure she got the message across, she concluded: “I cannot state more strongly that I know a terrible, terrible error of judgement was made, my having anything to do with Jeffrey Epstein.  What he did was wrong and for which he was rightly jailed.  He had been handed a three year sentence for soliciting prostitution from a minor.

The Duchess of York, who did not say the “P word”.

Despite that unambiguous statement, some weeks later she sent him an E-mail assuring the convicted paedophile she had not in the interview attached the label “paedophilia” to him: “As you know, I did not, absolutely not, say the 'P word' about you but understand it was reported that I did”, adding “I know you feel hellaciously let down by me.  You have always been a steadfast, generous and supreme friend to me and my family.  As it transpired, “generous was a good choice of word.  Immediately details of the E-mail were published, the duchess’s office went into SOP (standard operating procedure) “damage control mode”, a spokesperson asserting the E-mail was written in an attempt to counter a threat Epstein had made to sue her for defamation, explaining: “The duchess spoke of her regret about her association with Epstein many years ago, and as they have always been, her first thoughts are with his victims.  Like many people, she was taken in by his lies.  As soon as she was aware of the extent of the allegations against him, she not only cut off contact but condemned him publicly, to the extent that he then threatened to sue her for defamation for associating him with paedophilia.

Some might think it strange one would fear being sued for defamation by a convicted paedophile on the basis of having said “what he did was wrong and for which he was rightly jailed” but a quirk of defamation law is one can succeed in every aspect of one’s defense yet still be left with a ruinously expensive bill so the spokesperson’s claim the “…E-mail was sent in the context of advice the Duchess was given to try to assuage Epstein and his threats” may be true.  Epstein died by suicide while in custody (despite the rumours he may have been one of the many victims of “Arkancide” and murdered on the orders of crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) there is no evidence to support this) and the duchess’s unfortunate communication was but one of the consequences of Epstein’s conduct, the ripples of which continue to disturb the lives of his many victims and, allegedly, the rich, famous and well-connected who may have been “supplied” with under-age sexual partners from Epstein’s “stock”.  Tellingly there appears to be much more interest in identities of the latter than concern for the former.

Peter Mandelson, 8 August 1988, cibachrome print by Steve Speller (b 1961), Photographs Collection, National Portrait Gallery, London.  In a coincidence, the duchess’s eldest daughter (Princess Beatrice, Mrs Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi) was born on 8 August 1988 and in the weird world of the astrologers, the date 8/8/88 is “linked with abundance and is one of the most powerful dates for manifestation in the calendar”.  The date 8/8/88 is also a rather tawdry footnote in Australian political history.  Early in October 1987, the National Party's embattled Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen (1911–2005; premier of Queensland 1968-1987) convened a press conference at which he announced he intended to retire on “the eighth of the eighth of eighty-eight”, the significance being that would mark 20 years to the day since he'd been sworn in as premier.  As things turned out, his support within the party collapsed as revelations continued to emerge from an on-going enquiry into corruption in the state and on 1 December 1987 he was compelled to resign, jumping while being pushed along the plank as it were.  Although he was in 1991 tried for perjury and corruption, the trial was abandoned after the jury was unable to agree on a verdict.  It soon emerged that while eleven jury members found the Crown's case as convincing as just about anyone else who heard the evidence, one did not and that was the jury foreman (Luke Shaw, b 1971) who was a member of the “Young Nats” (the National Party's youth wing).  In 1992, the special prosecutor announced the Crown would not seek a second trial on the grounds that, at 81, Sir Joh was “too old”.  Sometimes one gets lucky.

Claims the duchess's former husband (Prince Andrew, Duke of York, b 1960) sexually abused a woman he was introduced to by Epstein were settled out of court (with no admission of liability and the payment of an “undisclosed sum”) and recently, the UK government sacked its erstwhile Ambassador to the US (Lord Mandelson (one time New Labour luminary Peter Mandelson (b 1953)) after revelations emerged confirming his association with Epstein was rather different than what he’d previously disclosed (there has been no suggestion Epstein supplied Lord Mandelson with males younger than the statuary age of consent).  Quite what else will emerge from documents in the hands of a US congressional panel remains to be seen but there’s a groundswell of clamour for complete disclosure and the renitence of the authorities to do exactly that has led to much speculation about “who is being protected and by whom”.  Noting that, many of Epstein’s victims have been in contact with each other and are threatening to compile a list “naming names”; when that is leaked (or otherwise revealed), it will be among the more keenly anticipated documents of recent years.

Also intriguing is whether Lord Mandelson (who has a history of "comebacks from adversity" to rival that of the Duchess of York), might wash up in Gaza as some part of the "interim governing body" Sir Tony Blair (b 1953; UK prime-minister 1997-2007) has offered to lead.  Pencilled-in as Gaza's "supreme political and legal authority" for up to five years, reports suggest Sir Tony would preside over a seven person board and a secretariat of two-dozen odd so, given how highly he valued "Mandy's" presence while in Downing Street, he might find somewhere to "slot in" Lord Mandelson.  Of course his Lordship would not be an ideal "cultural fit" for Gaza but as he'd tell Sir Tony, fixing that is just a matter of "media management".  Middle East politics is one thing but what's of interest to the English tabloids and celebrity gossip magazines is whether the (latest) downfall of the Duchess of York is this time “final”.  It was Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881, later First Earl of Beaconsfield; UK prime-minister Feb-Dec 1868 & 1874-1880) who famously observed “finality is not the language of politics” and on countless occasions he’s been proved right but so frequent have been the duchess’s indiscretions the press is (again) asking whether this time there can be no comeback.  The extent of Epstein’s “generosity” was illustrated by uncontested revelations the duchess accepted from him not only the Stg£15,000 to which she admitted but also a further Stg£2 million ($A4 million), needed at the time to stave off bankruptcy.  Despite it all, it still can’t be certain this really is the end of her remarkably durable career as a public figure which has survived many scandals including:

(1) In 1992 (while still married), she was photographed having her toes sucked by a man (not her husband) while enjoying some topless sunbathing.  Interestingly, sex therapists do recommend toe sucking (and other “toe & foot” play) because (1a) the nerves in the feet are sensitive and (1b) toe sucking is likely to be a novel sexual experience, something rare for most jaded adults.  They do however caution the feet should be immaculately clean, prior to beginning any sucking.

(2) In 2010 she was filmed (with a hidden camera) while offering to sell “access” to the Duke of York (for a reputed US$1 million in 2010) before departing the room with a briefcase filled with cash.

Sister Princess Eugenie (Mrs Jack Brooksbank; b 1990, left) and father Prince Andrew (right) looking at Princess Beatrice's soon to be (in)famous Philip Treacy fascinator, Westminster Abbey, London, 29 April 2011.  Until she appeared wearing this construction, most photographs of Princess Beatrice had focused on her lovely sanpaku eyes.  Opinion in the celebrity gossip magazines was divided on whether Eugenie's glance suggested envy or scepticism.

(3) In 2011, she did not prevent her eldest daughter attending the wedding of Prince William (b 1982) and Catherine Middleton (b 1982) while wearing a “distinctive” fascinator by Irish society milliner Philip Treacy (b 1967).  It was derided as a “ridiculous wedding hat” which seems unfair because it was a playful design which wasn’t that discordant upon the head on which it sat and was the only memorable headgear seen on the day, added to which it was symmetrical which is these days is genuinely a rarity in fascinators.  It was later sold at a charity auction for US$131,560 (said to be a record for such creations) so there was that.  Interestingly, some two years after the princess's fascinator made such an impression, the milliner gave an interview to the UK's Sunday Times in which he proclaimed: The fascinator is dead and I’m delighted.”  Asked why his view had changed, he explained: The word fascinator sounds like a dodgy sex toy and what’s so fascinating about a fascinator?  Mass production means that they became so cheap to produce that now they are no more than headbands with a feather stuck on with a glue gun. We’re seeing a return to proper hats.”  Clearly, association with a "cheap" product worn by chavs was no place for a "society milliner" although the journalist did suggest the Mr Treacy's change of heart may have followed Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022) in 2012 banning fascinators from the Royal Enclosure at the Royal Ascot, meaning the creations were not just passé but proscribed.  If thinking back to that day in Westminster Abbey, the journalist may have been tempted to suggest Mr Treacy write a book called: The Fascinator, My Part in its Downfall but any temptation was resisted.  Despite the obituary, the fascinator seems alive and well and the fashion magazines provide guidance to help race-goers and others pick "a good one" from "a chav one".

Since the 2011 E-mail’s publication, charities, some of which have, through thick & thin, for decades maintained their association, rushed to sever ties with the duchess.  Whether this time it really is the end of her “public life” remains to be seen but if the worst comes to the worst, can always resort to a nom de plume and write another book.  A prolific author, she has published more than two-dozen, mostly children’s titles or romances for Mills & Boon and, despite the snobby views of some, those two genres do require different literary techniques.

Gaza

Nobody seems to have used the word “hellacious” in relation to the state of armed conflict (most having abandoned that euphemism and just calling it a “war”) which has existed in Gaza since October 2023 but, used in the sense of “horrible, awful, hellish or agonizing”, few terms seem more appropriate.  Over the last quarter century odd, the word “Hell” has often appeared in discussions of the Middle East and the events in Gaza have made terms like “Hell on Earth”, “Hellscape” and “Hellish” oft-heard.  In a sense, the war in Gaza is just one more rung on the ladder down which the region has descended ever since many wise souls counseled George W Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; US president 2001-2009) that were the US to invade Iraq, that would be “opening the gates of Hell”.  One can argue about just when it was since then those gates were opened but in Gaza it does appear they’ve not just been flung open but torn from the hinges and cast to the depths.  What has happened since October 2023 has provided a number of interesting case studies in politics, military strategy and diplomacy, notably the stance taken by the Gulf states but given the extent of the human suffering it does seem distastefully macabre to discuss such things in clinical terms.

What soon became apparent was that Benjamin Netanyahu (b 1949; prime-minister of Israel 1996-1999, 2009-2021 and since 2022) had grasped what he regarded as a “once-in-a-lifetime” military and political environment created by the atrocities committed by the Hamas on 7 October 2023; were it not for the historical significance of the term, he’d likely have referred to his strategy as the “final solution to the Palestinian problem” (which at least some of his cabinet seem to equate with “the Palestinian presence”).  The basis of that strategy is the basis also for the dispute which has to varying extents existed since the creation of the state of Israel in 1948: There are two sides, each of which contains a faction which holds a “river to the sea” vision of national exclusivity which demands the exclusion of the other from the land.  Both factions are a minority but through one means or another they have long been the conflict’s political under-current and, on 7 October 2023, they became the central dynamic.  That dynamic’s respective world views are (1) the Palestinian people will not be free until the eradication of the state of Israel and (2) Jews and the state of Israel will not be safe until the removal of Palestinians from the land.  Mr Netanyahu’s cabinet expresses this as “the dismantling of the Hamas” but what they do is more significant than what they say.

Donald Trump (left) and Benjamin Netanyahu (right), the White House, Washington DC, March 25, 2019.

In Mr Netanyahu’s cabinet there is a spectrum of opinion but what appears now most prevalent is the most extreme: That the Palestinians wish to see the Jews eradicated (or exterminated or eliminated) from the land of Israel and as long as they are here the Jews cannot in their own land be safe so the Palestinians must go (somewhere else).  The gloss on the “somewhere else” long has been the mantra “there is already a Palestinian state; it is called Jordan and they should all go and live there” but in the region and beyond, that’s always been dismissed as chimerical.  The “somewhere else” paradigm though remains irresistible for the faction in Israel which, although once thought cast adrift from the moorings of political reality, finds itself not merely in cabinet but, in the Nacht und Nebel (night and fog) of war, able to pursue politics by other means in a way never before possible, the argument being the Hamas attack of 7 October meant the IDF (Israeli Defence Forces) were fighting a “just war”, thus the Old Testament style tactics.

In political discourse, the usual advice, sensibly, is that any comparisons with the Third Reich (1933-1945) should be avoided because the Nazis were so bad (some prefer “evil”) that comparisons tend to be absurd.  Historians have however pointed out some chilling echoes from the past in the positions which exist (and publically have been stated by some) in the Israeli cabinet.  Much the same world view was captured in a typically tart Tagebücher (diary) entry by Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945) on 27 March 1942:

A judicial sentence is being carried out against the Jews which is certainly barbaric but which they have fully deserved.  In these matters, one cannot let sentimentally prevail.  If we do not defend ourselves against them, the Jews would exterminate us.  It is a life and dress struggle against the Jewish bacillus.  No other government and no other regime could muster the strength for a general solution of this question.  Thank God the war affords us a series of opportunities which were denied us in peacetime.  We must make use of them.

Mr Netanyahu and his cabinet understand what the Hamas did on 7 October created “a series of opportunities” they never thought they’d have and, as the civilian death toll in Gaza (reckoned by September 2025 to be in excess of 65,000) attests, the IDF has made muscular use of the night and fog of war.  Of course the “somewhere else” fantasy of some Israeli politicians remains very different to the mass-murder alluded to by Goebbels or explicitly described by Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945) in his infamous speech at Posen in October 1943 but what Mr Netanyahu has called his “historic and spiritual mission” of “generations” is creating a poison which will last a century or more.  For what is happening in Gaza, there seems no better word than “hellacious”.

Tuesday, July 15, 2025

Cosmopolitan

Cosmopolitan (pronounced koz-muh-pol-i-tn)

(1) One free from local, provincial, or national ideas, prejudices, or attachments; an internationalist.

(2) One with the characteristics of a cosmopolite.

(3) A cocktail made with vodka, cranberry juice, an orange-flavored liqueur, and lime juice.

(4) Sophisticated, urbane, worldly.

(5) Of plants and animals, wildly distributed species.

(6) The vanessa cardui butterfly.

(7) A moth of species Leucania loreyi.

1828:  An adoption in Modern English, borrowed from the French cosmopolite (citizen of the world), ultimately derived from the Ancient Greek kosmopolitēs (κοσμοπολίτης), the construct being kósmos (κόσμος) (world) + politēs (πολίτης) (citizen); word being modeled on metropolitan.  The US magazine Cosmopolitan was first published in 1886.  Derived forms (hyphenated and not) have been constructed as needed including noncosmopolitan, subcosmopolitan, ultracosmopolitan, fauxcosmopolitan, anticosmopolitan & protocosmopolitan.  Because cosmopolitanness is a spectrum condition, the comparative is “more cosmopolitan” and the superlative “most cosmopolitan”.  Cosmopolitan is a noun & adjective, cosmopolitanism & cosmopolitanness are nouns, cosmopolitanize is a verb, cosmopolitanist is an adjective (and plausibly a noun) and cosmopolitanly is an adverb; the noun plural is cosmopolitans.

An aspect of Soviet Cold War policy under comrade Stalin

The phrase rootless cosmopolitans was coined in the nineteenth century by Vissarion Belinsky (1811-1848), a Russian literary critic much concerned about Western influences on both Russian literature and society.  He applied it to writers he felt “…lacked Russian national character” but as a pejorative euphemism, it’s now an anti-Semitic slur and one most associated with domestic policy in the Soviet Union (USSR) between 1946 and Stalin's death in 1953.  Comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) liked the phrase and applied it to the Jews, a race of which he was always suspicious because he thought their lack of a homeland made them “mystical, intangible and other-worldly”.  Not a biological racist like Hitler and other rabid anti-Semites, Stalin’s enemies were those he perceived a threat; Leon Trotsky (1879-1940), Grigory Zinoviev (1883–1936) and Lev Kamenev (1883–1936) were disposed of not because they were Jewish but because Stalin thought they might threaten his hold on power although the point has been made that while it wasn’t because he was Jewish that Trotsky was murdered, many Jews would come to suffer because Stalin associated them with Trotsky.

Comrade Stalin signing death warrants.

It was the same with institutions.  He found disturbing the activities of Moscow’s Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee (JAC) and did not approve them being accepted by Western governments as representing the USSR.  Further, he feared the JAC’s connections with foreign powers might create a conduit for infiltration by Western influences; well Stalin knew the consequences of people being given ideas; the campaign of 1946-1953 was thus more analogous with the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) opposition to the Falun Gong rather than the pogroms of Tsarist times.  Authoritarian administrations don’t like independent organisations; politics needs to be monolithic and control absolute.  In a speech in Moscow in 1946, he described certain Jewish writers and intellectuals, as “rootless cosmopolitans” accusing them of a lack of patriotism, questioning their allegiance to the USSR.  This theme festered but it was the creation of the state of Israel in 1948, fostering as it did an increased self consciousness among Soviet Jews, combined with the Cold War which turned Stalin into a murderous anti-Semite.

Ten years after: rootless cosmopolitan comrade Trotsky (left) talking to comrade Stalin (right), 1930 and Mexican police showing the ice axe used by an assassin (sent by Stalin) to murder Trotsky.

Before the formation of the state of Israel, Stalin's anti-Semitism was more a Russian mannerism than any sort of obsession.  For years after assuming absolute power in the USSR, he expressed no disquiet at the preponderance of Jews in the foreign ministry and it was only in 1939, needing a temporary diplomatic accommodation with Nazi Germany, that he acted.  Having replaced the Jewish Foreign Commissar, Maxim Litvinov (1876–1951; People's Commissar for Foreign Affairs of the Soviet Union 1930–1939) with Vyacheslav Molotov (1890-1986; USSR Minister of Foreign Affairs 1939-1949 & 1953-1956), he ordered him to purge the diplomatic corps of Jews, his memorable phrase being "clean out the synagogue".  Concerned the presence of Jews might be an obstacle to rapprochement with Hitler, Stalin had the purge effected with his usual efficiency: many were transferred to less conspicuous roles and others were arrested or shot.

Meeting of minds: Joachim von Ribbentrop (left), comrade Stalin (centre) and comrade Molotov (right), the Kremlin, 23 August 1939.

Negotiations began in the summer of 1939, concluding with German Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) leading a delegation to Moscow to meet with Molotov and Stalin.  It proved a remarkably friendly conference of political gangsters and agreement was soon reached, the German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact (usually called the Nazi-Soviet Pact or Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact) being signed on 23 August.  The pact contained also a notorious secret protocol by which the two dictators agreed to a carve-up of Poland consequent upon the impending Nazi invasion and the line dividing Poland between the two was almost identical to the Curzon Line, a demarcation between the new Polish Republic created in the aftermath of World War I (1914-1918) and the emergent Soviet Union which had been proposed by Lord Curzon (1859–1925; UK foreign secretary 1919-1924).  At the Yalta Conference in February 1945, during the difficult negotiations over Polish borders, Molotov habitually referred to "the Curzon Line" and the UK Foreign Secretary, Anthony Eden (1897–1977; thrice UK foreign secretary & prime minister 1955-1957), in a not untypically bitchy barb, observed it was more common practice to call it the “Molotov-Ribbentrop line”.  "Call it whatever you like" replied Stalin, "we still think it's fair and just".  Comrade Stalin rarely much cared to conceal the nature of the regime he crafted in his own image.  Whatever the motives of Stalin, rootless cosmopolitans has joined the code of dog-whistle politics, a part of the core demonology to label the Jews a malign race, a phrase in the tradition of "Christ killers", "Rothschild-Capitalists and Untermenschen (the sub-humans).  Despite that, there are always optimists, Jewish writer Vincent Brook (b 1946), suggesting the term could convey the positive, a suggestion the Jews possess an “adaptability and empathy for others”.  It’s not a view widely shared and rootless cosmopolitan remains an anti-Semitic trope although it's not unknown for Jews to use it ironically.

In August 1942, Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) got to enjoy the rare pleasure of a well lubricated supper in comrade Stalin's private apartment in the Kremlin and also there was comrade Molotov.  By the time the third bottle had been uncorked, the occasion had progressed to the exchange of anecdotes and in the spirit of the occasion, Churchill asked Molotov if it was true he’d delayed his return from a visit to the US so he could spend a night on the town in Manhattan.  Molotov’s expression became even more dour than usual but Stalin explained things by saying: “It was not to New York he went. He went to Chicago, where the other gangsters live.  More than one astute observer of the human condition has concluded more can be learned about a man from his humor than his more profound pronouncements but there was much also to be learned when comrade Stalin was being candid.  At the Yalta Conference, Franklin Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, US president 1933-1945) asked Stalin: “Who is the chap with the pince-nez?”.  That’s Beria” [Lavrentiy Beria (1899–1953; head of the Soviet secret police 1938-1946)], Stalin replied, “He’s our Himmler [the Nazi Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945)], and he’s not bad either.

The Cosmopolitan cocktail

A brace of Cosmos.

The Cosmopolitan was based on the "Cosmopolitan 1934" cocktail, a mix from inter-war New York which included gin, Cointreau & and lemon juice, raspberry syrup lending the trademark pink hue.  The modern Cosmopolitan was also concocted in New York and seems to have appeared first in the Mid-1980s although it was appearances in the HBO (Home Box Office) television series Sex and the City (1998-2004) which made it as emblematic of a certain turn-of-the-millennium New York lifestyle as Manolo Blahnik’s stilettos but, the implications of that connotation aside, the enticing pink drink survived to remain a staple of cocktail lists.  Cosmopolitans can be made individually or as a batch to be poured from a pitcher; just multiply the ingredient count by however many are to be served.

Ingredients

2 oz (¼ cup) vodka (or citrus vodka according to taste)

½ ounce (1 tablespoon) triple sec, Cointreau (or Grand Marnier)

¾ oz (1½ tablespoons) cranberry juice

¼-½ ounce (1 ½-3 teaspoons) fresh lime juice

One 2-inch (50 mm) orange peel/twist

Instructions

(1) Add vodka, Cointreau, cranberry juice, and lime juice to a cocktail shaker filled with ice.

(2) Shake until well chilled.

(3) Strain into a chilled cocktail glass (classically a coupé or Martini glass).

(4) An orange or lemon twist is the traditional garnish.

Notes

(1) As a general principle, the higher the quality of the vodka, the better the Cosmopolitan, the lower priced sprits tending to taste rather more abrasive which for certain purposes can be good but doesn’t suit a “Cosmo”.

(2) The choice of unsweetened or sweetened cranberry juice (the latter sold sometimes as “cranberry juice cocktail”) is a matter of taste and if using the unsweetened most will prefer if a small splash of sugar syrup (or agave) is added because tartness isn’t associated with a Cosmopolitan.

(3) There is however a variant which is sometimes mixed deliberately to be tart.  That’s the “White Cosmo”, made by using white cranberry juice.

(4) Of the orange liqueur: Most mixologists recommend Cointreau but preference is wholly subjective and Cointreau & Grand Marnier variously are used, the consensus being Cointreau (a type of Triple Sec) is smoother, stronger and more complex.  Grand Marnier is also a type of Triple Sec, one combined with Cognac so the taste is richer, nutty and caramelized which some prefer.

(5) Of the lime juice: It really is worth the effort to cut and squeeze a fresh lime.  Packaged lime juice will work but something of the bite of the citrus always is lost in the processing, packaging, storage and transporting the stuff endures.

(6) Art of the orange peel: The use of the term “garnish” of suggests something which is merely decorative: visual bling and ultimately superfluous but because cocktails are designed to be sipped, as one lingers over ones’s Cosmopolitan, from the peel will come a faint orange aroma, adding to the experience as the fumes of a cognac enhance things; spirits and cocktails are “breathed in” as well as swallowed.

(7) Science of the orange peel: When peeling orange, do it over glass so the oil spurting (viewed close-up under high-magnification, it really is more spurt than spray) from the pores in the skin ends up in the drink.  For the ultimate effect, rub the rim of the glass with the peel, down a half-inch on the outside so lips can enjoy the sensation.

The presidential “parade convertible” 1950 Lincoln Cosmopolitan, parked outside 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC.

In the US, the Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo) produced the Lincoln Cosmopolitan between 1949-1954 but only in its first season was it the “top-of-the-range” model, “designation demotion” something which would over the decades become popular in Detroit.  Political legend has it Harry Truman (1884–1972; US president 1945-1953) personally selected Lincoln to supply the presidential car fleet as an act of revenge against General Motors (GM), the corporation having declined to provide him with cars to use during the 1948 election campaign.  It’s assumed GM’s management was reading the polls and assumed they’d need only to wait to wait for a call from president elect Thomas Dewey (1902–1971) but as things turned out, Mr Dewey never progressed beyond president-presumptive so GM didn’t get the commission, the keys to Cadillacs not returning to the Oval Office until the administration of Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989).  While it wouldn’t much have consoled the GM board, there was some of their technology in the Lincolns because, FoMoCo was compelled to buy heavy-duty Hydra-Matic transmissions from Cadillac, their own automatic gearbox not then ready for production.

The presidential “parade convertible” 1950 Lincoln Cosmopolitan with “Bubbletop” fitted.

The White House leased ten Lincoln Cosmopolitans which were modified by coach-builders who added features such as longer wheelbases and raised roof-lines.  Nine were full-enclosed limousines while one was an armoured “parade convertible” (a “Cabriolet D” in the Mercedes-Benz naming system) which was an impressive 20-odd feet (6 metres) in length.  The car used a large-displacement version (shared with Ford Trucks!) of the old Ford flathead V8 (first introduced in 1932) and, weighing a hefty 6,500 lb (2,900 kg), performance wasn’t sparkling but given its role was slowly to percolate along crowd-lined boulevards, it was “adequate.  In 1954, during the administration of Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961), the parade convertible was fitted with a Plexiglas roof (a material the president would have been familiar with because it was used on some World War II (1939-1945) aircraft and in this form the Lincoln came to share the aircrafts’ nickname: “Bubbletop”.  The “Bubbletop” Cosmopolitan remained in service in the White House fleet until 1967.

The Glossies

Lindsay Lohan, Cosmopolitan, various international editions: April, May & June, 2006.

Cosmopolitan Magazine was launched in 1886 as a family journal of fashion, household décor, cooking, and other domestic interests.  It survived in a crowded market but its publisher did not and within two years Cosmopolitan was taken over by another which added book reviews and serialized fiction to the content.  This attracted the specialist house founded by John Brisben Walker (1847-1931), which assumed control in 1889, expanding its circulation twenty-fold to become one of America’s most popular literary magazines.  The Hurst Corporation acquired the title in 1905, briefly adding yellow-journalism before settling on a format focused on short fiction, celebrities and public affairs.  The formula proved an enduring success, circulation reaching two million by 1940 and this was maintained until a decline began in the mid 1950s, general-interest magazines being squeezed out by specialist titles and the time-consuming steamroller of television.

It was the appointment in 1965 of Helen Gurley Brown (1922–2012) as editor which signalled Cosmopolitan’s shift to a magazine focused exclusively on an emerging and growing demographic with high disposable income: the young white women of the baby boom.  In what proved a perfect conjunction, a target market with (1) economic independence, (2) social freedom, (3) an embryonic feminist awareness and (4) the birth control pill, the magazine thrived, surviving even the rush of imitators its success spawned.  Gurley Brown had in 1962 published the best seller advice manual, Sex and the Single Girl and Cosmopolitan essentially, for decades, reproduced variations on the theme in a monthly, glossy package.  It was clearly a gap in the market.  The approach was a success but there was criticism.  Conservatives disliked the choices in photography and the ideas young women were receiving.  Feminists were divided, some approved but others thought the themes regressive, a retreat from the overtly political agenda of the early movement into something too focused on fun and fashion, reducing women yet again to objects seeking male approbation.

Taylor Swift (b 1989), in purple on the cover of Cosmopolitan, December, 2014.

Still published in many international editions, Cosmopolitan Australia was one casualty of market forces, closed after a final printing in December 2018.  However, surprising many, Katarina Kroslakova (b 1978) in April 2024 announced her publishing house KK Press, in collaboration with New York-based Hearst Magazines International, would resume production of Cosmopolitan Australia as a bi-monthly and the first edition of the re-launched version was released in August, 2024.  Other than appearing in six issues per year rather than the traditional twelve, the format remained much the same, echoing Elle Australia which re-appeared on newsstands in March, ending a four-year hiatus.  Both revivals would as recently as 2023 have surprised industry analysts because the conventional, post-Covid wisdom was there existed in this segment few niches for time consuming and expensive titles in glossy print.

Amelia Dimoldenberg (b 1994) in polka-dots, on the cover of Cosmopolitan Australia April | May, 2025 (Issue 5, digital edition) which is downloadable file (96 MB in Adobe's PDF (portable document format) format.  Where digital titles have a history in print, the convention is to use the traditional cover format.  Even in the digital age, some legacy items have a genuine value to be exploited.

Ms Kroslakova clearly saw a viable business model and was quoted as saying print magazines are “the new social media” which was an interesting way of putting it but she explained the appeal by adding: “We need that 15 minutes to drop everything and actually have something tangible and beautiful in our hands to consume.  If we can present content which is multi-layered and deep and has authenticity and connection with the reader – that’s a really excellent starting point.  She may have a point because in an age where screen-based content is intrinsically impermanent, the tactile pleasure of the traditional glossy may have genuine appeal, at least for an older readership who can remember the way things used to be done, something perhaps hinted at by her “15 minutes” reference, now regarded by many media analysts as a long-term connection given the apparent shortening of attention spans and after all, bound glossy pages are just another technology.  The revival of the print editions of Elle and Cosmopolitan will be an interesting experiment in a difficult economic environment which may get worse before it gets better.  Whether the novelty will attract enough of the "affluent readers" (what used to be called the A1, A2 & B1 demographic) to convince advertisers that it's a place to run their copy will likely decide the viability of the venture and while it's not impossible that will happen, Cosmopolitan is a couple of rungs down the ladder from the "prestige" titles (Vogue the classic mainstream example) which have maintained an advertising base. Cosmopolitan Australia offers a variety of subscription offers, the lowest unit cost available with a two-year, print + digital bundle (12 issues for Aus$105).

Lindsay Lohan on the cover of Cleo: March 2005 (left) and May 2009 (right).

Published in Australia between 1972-2016, Cleo was a monthly magazine targeted broadly at the demographic buying Cosmopolitan.  It was for decades successful and although there was some overlap in readership (and certainly advertising content), there was a perception there existed as distinct species “Cleo women” and “Cosmo women”.  Flicking through the glossy pages, husbands and boyfriends might have struggled to see much thematic variation although it’s likely they looked only at the pictures.  In the same vein, other than the paint, actual Cleo & Cosmo readers mostly probably wouldn’t have noticed much difference between Ford & Chevrolet V8s so it’s really a matter of where one’s interests lie (just because something is sexist stereotyping doesn’t mean it’s not true).  Had the men bothered to read the editorial content, they wouldn’t have needed training in textual deconstruction to detect both titles made much use of “cosmospeak”, a sub-dialect of English coined to describe the jargon, copy style and buzzwords characteristic of post 1950s Cosmopolitan magazine which contributed much to the language of non-academic “lipstick feminism”.  To summarize the market differentiation in women’s magazines, the industry joke was: “Cosmopolitan teaches you how to have an organism, Cleo teaches you how to fake an organism and the Women’s Weekly teaches you how to knit an organism”.  As a footnote, when in 1983 the Women’s Weekly changed from a weekly to monthly format, quickly rejected was the idea the title might be changed to “Women’s Monthly”.

Martyrdom of the Saints Cosmas and Damian, oil on canvas by Fra Angelico (Guido di Pietro, circa 1395-1455), Musée du Louvre, Paris, France).  Fra was from the Italian frate (monk) and was a title for a Roman Catholic monk or friar (equivalent to Brother).

“Cleo” was a spunky two syllables but “Cosmopolitan” had a time-consuming five so almost universally it was used as “Cosmo”.  In Italy, Cosmo is a male given name and a variant of Cosimo, from the third century saint Cosmas who, with his brother Damian, was martyred in Syria during one of the many crackdowns on Christianity.  The name was from the Ancient Greek κόσμος (kósmos) (order, ordered universe), source of the now familiar “cosmos”.  Cosmas and Damian were Arab physicians who converted to Christianity and while ostensibly they suffered martyrdom for their faith, there may have been a financial motive because the brothers practiced much “free medicine”, not charging the poor for their “cures” so their services were understandably popular and thus a threat to the business model of the politically well-connected medical establishment.  The tension between medicine as some sort of social right and an industry run by corporations for profit has occasionally been suppressed but it’s never gone away, illustrated by the battles fought when the (literally) socialist post-war Labour government (1945-1951) established the UK’s NHS (National Health Service) and the (allegedly) socialist “Obamacare” (Affordable Care Act (ACA, 2010)) became law in the US.  By the twenty-first century, the medical establishment could no longer arrange decapitations of cut-price competitors threatening the profit margins but the conflicts remain, witness the freelancing of Luigi Mangione (1998).

The Mazda Cosmo

1968 Mazda Cosmo 110S (110S the export designation).

Although the Mazda corporation dates from 1920, it was another 40 years before it produced its first cars (one of the tiny 360 cm3 “kei cars” (a shortened form of kei-jidōsha, (軽自動車) (light vehicle)) so the appearance at the Tokyo Motor Show of the Cosmo Sport created quite an impression and that it was powered by a two-rotor Wankel rotary engine produced under licence from the German owners added to international interest.  Over two series, series production lasted from 1967 until 1972 but the intricate design was labour intensive to build and being expensive, demand was limited so in five years fewer than 1,200 were sold.  That makes it more of a rarity than a Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Gullwing (the W198, 1,400 of those built 1954-1957) and while Cosmo prices haven’t reached the level of the German car, it is a collectable and a number are now in museums and collections.  Mazda continued to use the Cosmo name until 1996 and while none of the subsequent models were as intriguing as the original, some versions of the JC Series Eunos Cosmo (1990–1996) enjoy the distinction of being the world’s only production car fitted with a three-rotor Wankel engine (the 1969 Mercedes-Benz C111 was a Wankel test-bed). 

1975 Mazda Roadpacer (HJ model)

The Eunos Cosmo was not the only Mazda with a unique place in the troubled history of the Wankel engine, the Roadpacer (1975-1977) also a footnote.  Most Holden fans, as one-eyed as any, don’t have especially fond memories of the HJ (1974-1976) range; usually, all they’ll say is its face-lifted replacement (the HX (1976-1977)), was worse.  With its chassis not including the RTS (radial tuned suspension) which lent the successor HZ (1975-1980) such fine handling and with engines strangled by the crude plumbing used in the era to reduce emissions, driving the HJ or HX really wasn’t a rewarding experience (although the V8 versions retained some charm) so there might have been hope Mazda’s curious decision to use fit their smooth-running, two-rotor Wankel to the HJ Premier and sell it as their top-of-the range executive car might have transformed the thing.  That it did but the peaky, high-revving rotary was wholly unsuited to the relatively large, heavy car.  Despite producing less power and torque than even the anaemic 202 cubic inch (3.3 litre) Holden straight-six it replaced, so hard did it have to work to shift the weight that fuel consumption was worse even than when Holden fitted their hardly economical 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8 for the home market.  Available only in Japan and sold officially between 1975-1977, fewer than eight-hundred were built, the company able to off-load the last of the HXs only in early 1980.  The only thing to which Mazda attached its name not mentioned in their corporate history, it's the skeleton in the Mazda closet and the company would prefer we forget the thing which it seems to think of as "our Edsel".  The Roadpacer did though provide one other footnote, being the only car built by General Motors (GM) ever sold with a Wankel engine.  

The archbishop and the abdication

Archbishop Cosmo Gordon Lang (1932), oil on canvas by Anglo-Hungarian society portraitist Philip Alexius László de Lombos (1869–1937 and known professionally as Philip de László).  Lang was christened Cosmo in honor of the local Laird (in Scotland, historically a feudal lord and latterly the “courtesy title” of an area’s leading land-owner, most prominent citizen etc).  The noun Laird was from the northern or Scottish Middle English lard & laverd (a variant of lord).

Scottish Anglican prelate Cosmo Gordon Lang (First Baron Lang of Lambeth, 1864–1945; Archbishop of York 1908–1928 & Archbishop of Canterbury 1928–1942 was a clergyman with uncompromising views about much.  This type was once common in pulpits and although those of his faction exist still in the the modern Church of England, fearing cancellation, they tend now to exchange views only behind closed doors.  He’d probably be today almost forgotten were it not for an incendiary broadcast he made (as Archbishop of Canterbury and thus spiritual head of the Church of England and the worldwide Anglican community) on BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) Radio on 13 December, 1936, two days after the abdication of Edward VIII (1894–1972; King of the UK & Emperor of India, January-December 1936, subsequently Duke of Windsor).  The address to the nation remains the most controversial public intervention made by a Church of England figure in the twentieth century, judged by many to be needlessly sanctimonious and distastefully personal, its political dimension the least objectionable aspect.

As a piece of text it did have a pleasingly medieval feel, opening with some memorable passages including: “From God he received a high and sacred trust. Yet by his own will he has abdicated” and “It is tragic that the sacred trust was not held with a firmer grip”.  That set the tone although when he said: “There has been much sympathy with the king in his great personal difficulty, and I do not forget how deeply he has touched the hearts of millions with his warm interest in the homes and lives of his people” his large audience may have thought some Christian charity did lurk in the Archbishop’s soul but quickly he let that moment pass, returning to his theme: “The causes which led to the king's decision are fully known to the nation.  But it has been made plain that the reigning sovereign of this country must be one whose private life and public conduct can be trusted to reflect the Christian ideal."

Unlike many modern Archbishops, there was no ambiguity about Lang so in his defense it can be argued he provided the Church with a moral clarity of greater certainty than anything which has in recent decades emanated from Lambeth Palace.  So there was that but by the 1930s the mood of opinion-makers in the UK had shifted and Lang’s text was seen as morally judgmental and the idea Edward VIII had failed not so much as a constitutional monarch but in his divine duty seemed archaic, few in the country framing things as the king’s personal failure before God.  What was clear was old Lang's point Edward’s relationship with a twice-divorced woman disqualified him morally and spiritually from being king which many critics within the church thought a bleak approach to a clergyman’s pastoral role.  In a sermon from the pulpit to the faithful it might have gone down well but as a national address, the tone was misplaced.  In self-imposed exile, privately Edward privately described the broadcast as “a vile and vindictive attack” and in his ghost-written memoirs (A King's Story (1951)), he accused the archbishop of “cruelty”.

Remembered also from the broadcast’s aftermath was a satirical verse printed in Punch by the novelist Gerald Bullett (1893–1958 (who published also under the pseudonym Sebastian Fox)).  Bullet’s included the words “how full of cant you are!”, using “cant” in the sense of “to speak in a manner speak in a hypocritical or insincere), an allusion to Lang signing his documents : “Cosmo Cantuar” (Cantuar the abbreviation for Cantuarium (Latin for Canterbury)):

“My Lord Archbishop, what a scold you are!
And when your man is down, how bold you are!
Of Christian charity how scant you are!
And, auld Lang swine, how full of cant you are!”