Demand

Demand (pronounced dih-mand (U) or dee–mahnd (non-U))

(1) To ask for with proper authority; claim as a right.

(2) To ask for peremptorily or urgently.

(3) To call for or require as just, proper, or necessary.

(4) In law, to lay formal claim to.

(5) In law, to summon, as to court.

(6) An urgent or pressing requirement.

(7) In economics, the desire to purchase, coupled (hopefully) with the power to do so.

(8) In economics, the quantity of goods that buyers will take at a particular price.

(9) A requisition; a legal claim.

(10) A question or inquiry (archaic).

1250-1300: From Middle English demaunden and Anglo-French demaunder, derived from the Medieval Latin dēmandāre (to demand, later to entrust) equivalent to dē + mandāre (to commission, order).  The Old French was demander and, like the English, meant “to request” whereas "to ask for as a right" emerged in the early fifteenth century from Anglo-French legal use.  As used in economic theory and political economy (correlating to supply), first attested from 1776 in the writings of Adam Smith.  The word demand as used by economists is a neutral term which references only the conjunction of (1) a consumer's desire to purchase goods or services and (2) hopefully the power to do so.  However, in general use, to say that someone is "demanding" something does carry a connotation of anger, aggression or impatience.  For this reason, during the 1970s, the language of those advocating the rights of women to secure safe, lawful abortion services changed from "abortion on demand" (ie the word used as an economist might) to "pro choice".  Technical fields (notably economics) coin derived forms as they're required (counterdemand, overdemand, predemand etc).  Demand is a noun & verb, demanding is a verb & adjective, demandable is an adjective, demanded is a verb and demander is a noun; the noun plural is demands.

Video on Demand (VoD)

Directed by Tiago Mesquita with a screenplay by Mark Morgan, Among the Shadows is a thriller which straddles the genres, elements of horror and the supernatural spliced in as required.  Although in production since 2015, with the shooting in London and Rome not completed until the next year, it wasn’t until 2018 when, at the European Film Market, held in conjunction with the Internationale Filmfestspiele Berli (Berlin International Film Festival), that Tombstone Distribution listed it, the distribution rights acquired by VMI, Momentum and Entertainment One, and VMI Worldwide.  In 2019, it was released progressively on DVD and video on demand (VoD), firstly in European markets, the UK release delayed until mid-2020.  In some markets, for reasons unknown, it was released with the title The Shadow Within.

Video on Demand (VoD) and streaming services are similar concepts in video content distribution but there are differences.  VoD is a system which permits users to view content at any time, these days mostly through a device connected to the internet across IP (Internet Protocol), the selection made from a catalog or library of available titles and despite some occasionally ambiguous messaging in the advertising, the content is held on centralized servers and users can choose directly to stream or download.  The VoD services is now often a sub-set of what a platform offers which includes content which may be rented, purchased or accessed through a subscription.

Streaming is a method of delivering media content in a continuous flow over IP and is very much the product of the fast connections of the twenty-first century.  Packets are transmitted in real-time which enables users to start watching or listening without waiting for an entire file (or file set) to download, the attraction actually being it obviates the need for local storage.  There’s obviously definitional and functional overlap and while VoD can involve streaming, not all streaming services are technically VoD and streaming can also be used for live events, real-time broadcasts, or continuous playback of media without specific on-demand access. By contrast, the core purpose of VoD is to provide access at any time and streaming is a delivery mechanism, VoD a broad concept and streaming a specific method of real-time delivery as suited to live events as stored content.

The Mercedes-Benz SSKL and the Demand Supercharger

Modern rendition of Mercedes-Benz SSLK in schematic, illustrating the drilled-out chassis rails.  The title is misleading because the four or five SSKLs built were all commissioned in 1931 (although it's possible one or more used a modified chassis which had been constructed in 1929).  All SSK chassis were built between 1928-1932 although the model remained in the factory's catalogue until 1933. 

The Mercedes-Benz SSKL was one of the last of the road cars which could win top-line grand prix races.  An evolution of the earlier S, SS and SSK, the SSKL (Super Sports Kurz (short) Leicht (light)) was notable for the extensive drilling of its chassis frame to the point where it was compared to Swiss cheese; reducing weight with no loss of strength.  The SSKs and SSKLs were famous also for the banshee howl from the engine when the supercharger was running; nothing like it would be heard until the wail of the BRM V16s twenty years later.  It was called a demand supercharger because, unlike some constantly-engaged forms of forced-induction, it ran only on-demand, in the upper gears, high in the rev-range, when the throttle was pushed wide-open.  Although it could safely be used for barely a minute at a time, when running, engine power jumped from 240-odd horsepower (HP) to over 300.  The number of SSKLs built has been debated and the factory's records are incomplete because (1) like many competition departments, it produced and modified machines "as required" and wasn't much concerned about documenting the changes and (2) many archives were lost as a result of bomb damage during World War II (1939-1945); most historians suggest there were four or five SSKLs, all completed (or modified from earlier builds) in 1931.  The SSK had enjoyed great success in competition but even in its heyday was in some ways antiquated and although powerful, was very heavy, thus the expedient of the chassis-drilling intended to make it competitive for another season.  Lighter (which didn't solve but at least to a degree ameliorated the brake & tyre wear) and easier to handle than the SSK (although the higher speed brought its own problems, notably in braking), the SSKL enjoyed a long Indian summer and even on tighter circuits where its bulk meant it could be out-manoeuvred, sometimes it still prevailed by virtue of durability and sheer power.

Rudolf Caracciola (1901–1959) and SSKL in the wet, German Grand Prix, Nürburgring, 19 July, 1931.  Alfred Neubauer (1891–1980; racing manager of the Mercedes-Benz competition department 1926-1955) maintained Caracciola "...never really learned to drive but just felt it, the talent coming to him instinctively."    

Sometimes too it got lucky.  When the field assembled in 1931 for the Fünfter Großer Preis von Deutschland (fifth German Grand Prix) at the Nürburgring, even the factory acknowledged that at 1600 kg (3525 lb), the SSKLs, whatever their advantage in horsepower, stood little chance against the nimble Italian and French machines which weighed-in at some 200 KG (440 lb) less.  However, on the day there was heavy rain with most of race conducted on a soaked track and the twitchy Alfa Romeos, Maseratis and the especially skittery Bugattis proved less suited to the slippery surface than the truck-like but stable SSKL, the lead built up in the rain enough to secure victory even though the margin narrowed as the surface dried and a visible racing-line emerged.  Time and the competition had definitely caught up by 1932 however and it was no longer possible further to lighten the chassis or increase power so aerodynamics specialist Baron Reinhard von Koenig-Fachsenfeld (1899-1992) was called upon to design a streamlined body, the lines influenced both by his World War I (1914-1918 and then usually called the "World War") aeronautical experience and the "streamlined" racing cars which had been seen in the previous decade.  At the time, the country greatly was affected by economic depression which spread around the world after the 1929 Wall Street crash, compelling Mercedes-Benz to suspend the operations of its competitions department so the one-off "streamliner" was a private effort (though with some tacit factory assistance) financed by the driver (who borrowed some of the money from his mechanic!).

The streamlined SSKL crosses the finish line, Avus, 1932.

The driver was Manfred von Brauchitsch (1905-2003), nephew of Major General (later Generalfeldmarschall (Field Marshal)) Walther von Brauchitsch (1881–1948; Oberbefehlshaber (Commander-in-Chief) of OKH (Oberkommando des Heeres (the German army's high command) 1938-1941).  An imposing but ineffectual head of the army, Uncle Walther also borrowed money although rather more than loaned by his nephew's mechanic, the field marshal's funds coming from the state exchequer, "advanced" to him by Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945).  Quickly Hitler learned the easy way of keeping his mostly aristocratic generals compliant was to loan them money, give them promotions, adorn them with medals and grant them estates in the lands he'd stolen during his many invasions.  His "loans" proved good investments.  Beyond his exploits on the circuits, Manfred von Brauchitsch's other footnote in the history of the Third Reich (1933-1945) is the letter sent on April Fools' Day 1936 to Uncle Walther (apparently as a courtesy between gentlemen) by Baldur von Schirach (1907-1974; head of the Hitlerjugend (Hitler Youth) 1931-1940 & Gauleiter (district party leader) and Reichsstatthalter (Governor) of Vienna 1940-1945) claiming he given a "horse whipping" to the general's nephew because a remark the racing driver was alleged to have made about Frau von Schirach (the daughter of Hitler's court photographer!).  It does seem von Schirach did just that though it wasn't quite the honorable combat he'd claimed: in the usual Nazi manner he'd arrived at von Brauchitsch's apartment in the company of several thugs and, thus assisted, swung his leather whip.  Von Brauchitsch denied ever making the remarks.  Unlike the German treasury, the mechanic got his money back and that loan proved a good investment, coaxing from the SSKL a victory in its final fling.  Crafted in aluminum by Vetter in Cannstatt, the body was mounted on von Brauchitsch's race-car and proved its worth at the at the Avusrennen (Avus race) in May 1932; with drag reduced by a quarter, the top speed increased by some 12 mph (20 km/h) and the SSKL won its last major trophy on the unique circuit which rewarded straight-line speed like no other.  It was the last of the breed; subsequent grand prix cars would be pure racing machines with none of the compromises demanded for road-use.

Evolution of the front-engined Mercedes-Benz grand prix car, 1928-1954

1928 Mercedes-Benz SS.

As road cars, the Mercedes-Benz W06  S (1927-1928) & SS (1928-1930) borrowed unchanged what had long been the the standard German approach in many fields (foreign policy, military strategy, diplomacy, philosophy etc): robust engineering and brute force; sometimes this combination worked well, sometimes not.  Eschewing refinements in chassis engineering or body construction as practiced by the Italians or French, what the S & SS did was achieved mostly with power and the reliability for which German machinery was already renowned.  Although in tighter conditions often out-manoeuvred, on the faster circuits both were competitive and the toughness of their construction meant, especially on the rough surfaces then found on many road courses, they would outlast the nimble but fragile opposition.

1929 Mercedes-Benz SSK.

By the late 1920s it was obvious an easier path to higher performance than increasing power was to reduce the SS's (Super Sport) size and weight.  The former easily was achieved by reducing the wheelbase, creating a two-seat sports car still suitable for road and track, tighter dimensions and less bulk also reducing fuel consumption and tyre wear, both of which had plagued the big, supercharged cars.  Some engine tuning and the use of lighter body components achieved the objectives and the SSK was in its era a trophy winner in sports car events and on the grand prix circuits.  Confusingly, the "K" element in the name stood for kurz (short) and not kompressor (supercharger) as was applied to some other models although all SSKs used a supercharged, 7.1 litre (433 cubic inch) straight-six. 

1931 Mercedes-Benz SSKL.

The French, British and Italian competition however also were improving their machinery and by late 1930, on the racetracks,  the SSK was becoming something of a relic although it remained most desirable as a road car, demand quelled only by a very high price in what suddenly was a challenging economic climate.  Without the funds to create anything new and with the big engine having reached the end of its development potential, physics made obvious to the engineers more speed could be attained only through a reduction in mass so not only were body components removed or lightened where possible but the chassis and sub-frames were drilled to the point where the whole apparatus was said to resemble "a Swiss cheese".  The process was time consuming but effective because, cutting the SSK's 1600 KG heft to the SSKL's more svelte 1445 (3185), combined with the 300-odd HP which could be enjoyed for about a minute with the supercharger engaged, produced a Grand Prix winner which was competitive for a season longer than any had expected and one also took victory in the 1931 Mille Miglia.  Although it appeared in the press as early a 1932, the "SSKL" designation is retrospective, the factory's extant records listing the machines either as "SSK" or "SSK, model 1931".  No more than five were built and none survive (rumors of a frame "somewhere in Argentina" apparently an urban myth) although some SSK's were at various times "drilled out" to emulate the look and the appeal remains, a replica cobbled together from real and fabricated parts sold at auction in 2007 for over US$2 million; this was when a million dollars was still a lot of money.  

1932 Mercedes-Benz SSKL (die Gurke).

The one-off bodywork (hand beaten from aircraft-grade sheet aluminum) was fabricated for a race held at Berlin's unique Automobil-Verkehrs- und Übungsstraße (Avus; the "Automobile traffic and training road") which featured two straights each some 6 miles (10 km) in length, thus the interest in increasing top speed and while never given an official designation by the factory, the crowds dubbed it die Gurke (the cucumber).  The streamlined SSKL won the race and was the first Mercedes-Benz grand prix car to be called a Silberpfeil (silver arrow), the name coined by radio commentator Paul Laven (1902-1979) who was broadcasting trackside for Südwestdeutsche Rundfunkdienst AG (Southwest German Broadcasting Service); he was struck by the unusual appearance although the designer had been inspired by an aircraft fuselage rather than arrows or the vegetable of popular imagination.  The moniker was more flattering than the nickname Weiße Elefanten (white elephant) applied to S & SS which was a reference to their bulk and not a use of the phrase in its usual figurative sense.  The figurative sense came from the Kingdom of Siam (modern-day Thailand) where elephants were beasts of burden, put to work hauling logs in forests or carting other heavy roads but the rare white (albino) elephant was a sacred animal which could not be put to work.  However, the owner was compelled to feed and care for the unproductive creature and the upkeep of an elephant was not cheap; they have large appetites.  According to legend, if some courtier displeased the king, he could expect the present of a white elephant.  A “white elephant” is thus an unwanted possession that though a financial burden, one is “stuck with” and the term is applied the many expensive projects governments around the world seem unable to resist commissioning.

Avus circuit.  Unique in the world, it was the two long straights which determined die Gurke's emphasis on top speed.  Even the gearing was raised (ie a numerically lower differential ratio) because lower engine speeds were valued more than low-speed acceleration which was needed only once a lap.

The size of the S & SS was exaggerated by the unrelieved expanses of white paint (Germany's designated racing color) although despite what is sometimes claimed, Ettore Bugatti’s (1881–1947) famous quip “fastest trucks in the world” was his back-handed compliment not to the German cars but to W. O. Bentley’s (1888–1971) eponymous racers which he judged brutish compared to his svelte machines.  Die Gurke ended up silver only because such had been the rush to complete the build in time for the race, there was time to apply the white paint so it raced in a raw aluminum skin.  Remarkably, in full-race configuration, die Gurke was driven to Avus on public roads, a practice which in many places was tolerated as late as the 1960s.  Its job at Avus done, die Gurke was re-purposed for high-speed tyre testing (its attributes (robust, heavy and fast) ideal for the purpose) before "disappearing" during World War II.  Whether it was broken up for parts or metal re-cycling, spirted away somewhere or destroyed in a bombing raid, nobody knows although it's not impossible conventional bodywork at some point replaced the streamlined panels.  In 2019, Mercedes-Benz unveiled what it described as an "exact replica" of die Gurke, built on an original (1931) chassis.    

1934 Mercedes-Benz W25.

After building the replica Gurke, Mercedes-Benz for the first time subjected it to a wind-tunnel test, finding (broadly in line with expectations) its c_d (coefficient of drag) improved by about a third, recording 0.616 against a standard SSK's 0.914.  By comparison, the purpose-built W25 from 1934 delivered a 0.614 showing how effective Baron Koenig-Fachsenfeld's design had been although by today's standards, the numbers are not of shapes truly "slippery".  Although "pure" racing cars had for years existed, the W25 (Werknummer (works number) 25) was the one which set many elements is what would for a quarter-century in competition be the default template for most grand prix cars and its basic shape and configuration remains recognizable in the last front-engined car to win a Word Championship grand prix in 1960.  The W25 was made possible by generous funding from the new Nazi Party, "prestige projects" always of interest to the propaganda-minded party.  With budgets which dwarfed the competition, immediately the Mercedes-Benz and Auto Unions enjoyed success and the W25 won the newly inaugurated 1935 European Championship.  Ironically, the W25's most famous race was the 1935 German Grand Prix at the Nürburgring, won by the inspired Italian Tazio Nuvolari (1892–1953) in an out-dated and under-powered Alfa-Romeo P3, von Brauchitsch's powerful W25 shredding a rear tyre on the final lap.  However, the Auto Union's chassis design fundamentally was more farsighted; outstanding though the engine was, the W25's platform was, in many ways, eine bessere Gurke (a better cucumber) and because its limitations were inherent, the factory "sat out" most of the 1936 season to develop the W125.

1937 Mercedes-Benz W125.

Along with the dramatic, mid-engined,  V16 Auto Union Type C, the W125 was the most charismatic race car of the "golden age" of 1930s European circuit racing.  When tuned for use on the fastest circuits, the 5.7 litre (346 cubic inch) straight-eight generated over 640 HP and in grand prix racing that number would not be exceeded until the turbocharged engines (first seen in 1977) of the 1980s.  The W125 used a developed version of the W25's 3.4 (205) & 4.3 (262) straight-eights and the factory had assumed this soon would be out-performed by Auto Union's V16s but so successful did the big-bore eight prove the the Mercedes-Benz V16 project was aborted, meaning resources didn't need to be devoted to the body and chassis engineering which would have been required to accommodate the bigger, wider and heavier unit (something which is subsequent decades would doom a Maserati V12 and Porsche's Flat-16.  The W125 was the classic machine of the pre-war "big horsepower" era and if a car travelling at 100 mph (160 km/h) passed a W125 at standstill, the latter could accelerate and pass that car within a mile (1.6 km).

A W125 on the banked Nordschleife (northern ribbon (curve)) at Avus, 1937.  At Avus, the streamlined bodywork was fitted because a track which is 20 km (12 miles) in length but has only four curves puts an untypical premium on top-speed.  The banked turn was demolished in 1967 because increased traffic volumes meant an intersection was needed under the Funkturm (radio tower), tower and today only fragments of the original circuit remain although the lovely art deco race control tower still exists and was for a time used as restaurant.  Atop now sits a Mercedes-Benz three-pointed star rather than the swastika which flew in 1937. 

1938 Mercedes-Benz W154.

On the fastest circuits the streamlined versions of the W125s were geared to attain 330 km/h (205 mph) and 306 km/h (190 mph) often was attained in racing trim.  With streamlined bodywork, there was also the Rekordwagen built for straight-line speed record attempts and one set a mark of 432.7 km/h (268.9 mph), a public-road world speed record that stood until 2017.  Noting the speeds and aware the cars were already too fast for circuits which had been designed for, at most, velocities sometimes 100 km/h (50 mph) less, the governing body changed the rules, limiting the displacement for supercharged machines to 3.0 litres (183 cubic inch), imagining that would slow the pace.  Fast though the rule-makers were, the engineers were quicker still and it wasn't long before the V12 W154 was posting lap-times on a par with the W125 although they did knock a few km/h off the top speeds.  The rule change proved as ineffective in limiting speed as the earlier 750 KG formula which had spawned the W25 & W125.

1939 Mercedes-Benz W165.

An exquisite one-off, the factory built three W165s for the single purpose of contesting the 1939 Tripoli Grand Prix.  Remarkable as it may now sound, there used to be grand prix events in Libya, then a part of Italy's colonial empire.  Anguished at having for years watched the once dominant Alfa Romeos enjoy only the odd (though famous) victory as the German steamroller flattened all competition (something of a harbinger of the Wehrmacht's military successes in 1939-1940), the Italian authorities waited until the last moment before publishing the event's rules, stipulating the use of a voiturette (small car) with a maximum displacement of 1.5 litres  (92 cubic inch).  The rules were designed to suit the Alfa Romeo 158 (Alfetta) and Rome was confident the Germans would have no time to assemble such a machine.  However, knowing Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), still resenting what happened at the Nürburgring in 1935, would not be best pleased were his Axis partner (and vassal) Benito Mussolini (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & Prime-Minister of Italy 1922-1943) to enjoy even this small victory, the factory scrambled and conjured up the V8-powered (a first for Mercedes-Benz) W165, the trio delivering a "trademark 1-2-3" finish in Tripoli.  As a consolation, with Mercedes-Benz busy building inverted V12s for the Luftwaffe's Messerschmitts, Heinkels and such, an Alfa Romeo won the 1940 Tripoli Grand Prix which would prove the city's last.      

 

1954 Mercedes Benz W196R Strómlinienwagen (literally "streamlined car" but translated usually as "Streamliner".

A curious mix of old (drum brakes, straight-eight engine and swing axles) and new (a desmodromic valve train, fuel injection and aerodynamics developed in a wind-tunnel with the help of engineers then banned from being involved in aviation), the intricacies beneath the skin variously bemused or delighted those who later would come to be called nerds but it was the sensuous curves which attracted most publicity.  Strange though it appeared, it was within the rules and clearly helped deliver stunning speed although the pace did expose some early frailty in road-holding (engineers have since concluded the thing was a generation ahead of tyre technology).  It was one of the prettiest grand prix cars of the post war years and the shape (sometimes called "type Monza", a reference to the Italian circuit with long straights so suited to it) would later much appeal to pop-artist Andy Warhol (1928–1987) who used it in a number of prints.

1954 Mercedes-Benz W196R.  In an indication of how progress accelerated after 1960, compare this W196R with (1) the W25 of 20 years earlier and (2) any grand prix car from 1974, 20 years later. 

However, although pleasing to the eye, the W196R Strómlinienwagen was challenging even for expert drivers and it really was a machine which deserved a de Dion rear suspension rather than the swing axles (on road cars the factory was still building a handful with these as late as 1981 and their fudge of semi-trailing rear arms (the "swing axle when you're not having a swing axle") lasted even longer).  Of more immediate concern to the drivers than any sudden transition to oversteer was that the aluminium skin meant they couldn't see the front wheels so, from their location in the cockpit, it was difficult to judge the position of the extremities, vital in a sport where margins can be fractions of a inch.  After the cars in 1954 returned to Stuttgart having clouted empty oil drums (those and bails of hay was how circuity safety was then done) during an unsuccessful outing to the British Grand Prix at Silverstone, a conventional body quickly was crafted and although visually unremarkable, the drivers found it easier to manage and henceforth, the Strómlinienwagen appeared only at Monza.  There was in 1954-1955 no constructor's championship but had there been the W196R would in both years have won and it delivered two successive world driver's championships for Juan Manuel Fangio (1911–1995).  Because of rule changes, the three victories by the W196R Strómlinienwagen remain the only ones in the Formula One World Championship (since 1950) by a car with enveloping bodywork.

Peculiar

Peculiar (pronounced pi-kyool-yer)

(1) Something thought strange, queer, odd, eccentric, bizarre.

(2) Something uncommon or unusual.

(3) Distinctive in nature or character from others.

(4) Belonging characteristically to something.

(5) Belonging exclusively to some person, group, or thing.

(6) In astronomy, designating a star or galaxy with special properties that deviates from others of its spectral type or galaxy class.

(7) A property or privilege belonging exclusively or characteristically to a person.

(8) In the Church of England, a particular parish or church that is exempted from the jurisdiction of the ordinary or bishop in whose diocese it lies and is governed by another.

(9) In printing and typesetting, special characters not generally included in standard type fonts, as phonetic symbols, mathematical symbols etc (such as ±§¿).  Also called arbitraries.

1400-1450: From the late Middle English, from the Old French peculiaire and directly from the Latin pecūliāris (as one's own property), from pecūlium (private property (literally "property in cattle") a derivative of pecū (flock, farm animals) from pecus (cattle) (in Antiquity, the ownership of cattle was an important form of wealth).  The meaning “unusual” dates from circa 1600, a development of the earlier idiom “distinguished or special”.  The meaning "unusual, uncommon; odd" emerged by circa 1600, an evolution from the earlier "distinguished, special, particular, select" which was in use by at least the 1580s.  The euphemistic phrase "peculiar institution" (slavery; "peculiar" used here in the sense of "exclusive to the "slave states") dates from the 1830s when it was used in speeches by Southern politician John C Calhoun (1782-1850) and it was a standard part of the US political lexicon until abolition.  In ecclesiastical administration, peculiar was used in the sense of "distinct from the auspices of the diocese in which it's located".  Peculiar is a noun & adjective, peculiarize is a verb, peculiarity is a noun and peculiarly is an adverb; the noun plural is peculiars.

Photographers will use the natural environment to produce peculiar effects which can be striking: This is Lindsay Lohan straked by sunlight & shadow from a photo session by Ellen Von Unwerth (b 1954) for Vogue Italia, August 2010.  The caption “Ho fatto terribili sbagli dai quali però ho imparato molto.  Probabilmente per questo sono ancora viva” translates from the Italian as “I've made terrible mistakes, but I've learned a lot from them.  That's probably why I'm still alive.”

In the Church of England, a peculiar is an ecclesiastical district, parish, chapel or church which operates outside the jurisdiction of the bishop and archdeacon of the diocese in which they are situated. Most are Royal Peculiars subject to the direct jurisdiction of the monarch but some are those under another archbishop, bishop or dean.  The arrangement originated in Anglo-Saxon times and developed as a result of the relationship between the Norman and Plantagenet Kings and the English Church. King Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) retained Royal Peculiars following the Reformation and the Ecclesiastical Licences Act (1533), as confirmed by the Act of Supremacy (1559), transferred to the sovereign the jurisdiction which previously been exercised by the pope.  Surprisingly, most peculiars survived the Reformation but, with the exception of Royal Peculiars, almost all were abolished during the nineteenth century by various acts of parliament.  Mostly harmless among Anglicans, the concept existed also in the Roman-Catholic Church where it caused a few difficulties, usually because of bolshie nuns in convents answerable to Rome and not the local bishop.  The bishops, used to obedience, even if grudging, enjoyed this not at all.

One archaic-sounding peculiarity in the sometimes intersecting world of geopolitics and diplomatic conventions is that on the Chrysanthemum Throne sits an emperor yet there is no Japanese empire.  Actually, despite the institution having a history stretching back millennia, no empires remain extant and some of the more recent (such as the Central African Empire (1976-1979)) have been dubious constructions.  Despite that, the Japanese head of state remains an emperor which seems strange but the reasons the title has endured are historical, linguistic & diplomatic.  The Japanese sovereign’s native title is 天皇 (Tennō (literally “Heavenly Sovereign” and best understood in the oft-used twentieth century phrase “Son of Heaven”).  When, in the mid 1800s, the Western powers first began their engagement with Japan, the diplomatic protocol specialists soon worked out there was in their languages no exact term which exactly encapsulated Tennō and because “king” historically was lower in status than “emperor”, that couldn’t be used because, the Japanese court regarding itself as equal to (in reality probably “superior to”) the ruling house in China, it would have implied a loss of face.  So, on the basis of the precedent of the Chinese 皇帝 (huángdì (Emperor), Tennō entered English (and other European languages) translated as “emperor”.  This solved most potential problems by placing the Japanese sovereign on the same level as the Chinese Emperor & Russian Tsar.

Cars of the Chrysanthemum Throne: Emperor Akihito (b 1933; Emperor of Japan 1989-2019) waving while leaving Tokyo's Imperial Palace in 2006 Toyota Century (left) and the 2019 Toyota Century four-door parade cabriolet (right).  Although in the West, Toyota in 1989 created the Lexus brand for the upper middle class (and hopefully above), the royal household has for years been supplied with Toyotas, some of them with bespoke coachwork and interior appointments although mechanical components come from the Toyota/Lexus parts bin.  The four-door cabriolet replaced a 1990 Rolls-Royce Corniche DHC (drophead coupé) which, having only two doors made less easy an elegant ingress or egress.

As things turned out, the linguistic pragmatism turned out to be predictive because during the Meiji period (1868-1912), Japan emerged as a modern imperial power, with colonies in Taiwan, Korea and other places.  After World War II (1939-1945), the empire was dissolved but the imperial institution was retained, a fudge the Allied powers tacitly had conceded as an alternative to insisting on the “unconditional surrender” the Potsdam Declaration (26 July, 1945) had demanded.  Tennō thus remained the head of state’s title and in English it has continued to be rendered as “Emperor”, a nod more to historical continuity than diplomatic courtesy.  In a practical sense, this represented no obvious challenge because being styled “The Emperor” was geographically vague, unlike the king in the UK who obviously ceased to be called “Emperor of India” after the Raj was dissolved with the granting of Indian independence in 1947.  The peculiar anomaly of an emperor without an empire remains peculiar to Japan.

Peculiar has a range of meanings.  One is the sense of something “uniquely peculiar to” meaning an attribute or something else shared with no other and sometimes things one thought peculiar to one thing or another are proved not so unique.  Saturn’s lovely rings were once thought peculiar to that planet but exploration and advances in observational technology meant that by the late twentieth century it could be revealed Jupiter, Uranus & Neptune all had ring systems, albeit more modest than those of Saturn but they were there.  Non-realistic art has often for its impact depended on a depiction of the peculiar: blue trees, flying dogs and green people once all enough to shock.  This too can change.  Once, a painting of a black swan would have seemed peculiar because, as the Roman saying went rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno (a bird as rare upon the earth as a black swan).  The accepted fact was that all swans were white.  However, late in the seventeenth century, Dutch explorers visiting what is now the coast of Western Australia became the first Europeans to see black swans and event subsequently picked up in philosophy as the “black swan moment”, referencing the implications of an accepted orthodoxy of impossibility being disproven, later developed into the “black swan logical fallacy” which became a term used when identifying falsification.

However, the two meanings can co-exist in the one sentence such as: (1) “Fortunately, the most peculiar of the styling motifs Plymouth used on the 1961 range remained peculiar to that single season” or (2) “On the basis of comments from experts in the linguistics community, Lindsay Lohan's peculiar new accent seems peculiar to her.”  In each case the first instance was used in the sense of “strange or weird” while the second suggested “uniqueness”.  Because in sentence construction, unless done for deliberate effect, there's some reluctance to repeat what may be called “noticeable words” (ie those which “stick out” because they’re rare or in some way unusual), writers can be tempted by the sin of what Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) called “elegant variation”.  Although willing to concede inelegance had its place as a literary or dramatic device (rather as a soprano with a lovely voice sometimes has to sing an aria which demands she sounds “ugly”), Henry Fowler preferred all sentences to be elegant.  Elegance however was a product and not a process, and he cautioned “young writers” (those older presumably written off as beyond redemption) against following what had become established as a “misleading rules of thumb”: Never to use the same word twice in a sentence or within 20 lines or other limit.”  His view was that if unavoidable, repetition, elegantly done was preferable to the obviously contrived used of synonyms such as (1) monarch, king, sovereign, ruler or (2) women, ladies, females, the variants there just to comply with a non-existent rule.  Predictably, the law was singled out as repeat offender, the use of “suits, actions & cases appearing in the one sentence to describe the same thing pointlessly clumsy in what was merely a list in which a repeated use of “cases” would had added clarity although that quality is not one always valued by lawyers.   

Peculiar in the sense of something bizarre: 1961 Plymouth Fury Convertible.  It must have seemed a good idea at the time and never has there been anything to suggest the stylists were under the influence of stimulants stronger than caffeine or nicotine.

Sometimes something thought peculiar can be described as “funny-peculiar” to distinguish it from something disturbing: peculiarities can be thought of as perversions.  In 1906, an embittered and vengeful Friedrich von Holstein (1837–1909; between 1876-1906, an éminence grise in the foreign office of the German Empire) sent a letter to the diplomat Prince “Phili” Phillip of Eulenburg (1847–1921), the man he blamed for ending of his long and influential career:

“My dear Phili – you needn’t take this beginning as a compliment since nowadays to call a man ‘Phili” means – well, nothing very flattering… I am now free to handle you as one handles such a contemptible person with your peculiarities.”

From this incendiary note ensued a series of legal proceedings exploring the allegations of “unnatural conduct” (homosexual activity) levelled against Prince Phillip, proceedings which involved a roll-call of characters, many with motives which went beyond their strict legal duty and a few with their own agendas.  The matter of Phili’s “peculiarities” was of real political (and potentially constitutional) significance, not merely because homosexuality was punishable under the criminal code (although the statute was rarely enforced) but because the prince had for decades been the closest friend of the German Emperor, Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918).  To this day, the exact nature of the relationship between the two remains uncertain.

Blowout

Blowout (pronounced bloh-out)

(1) A sudden puncturing of a pneumatic tyre.

(2) A sudden release of oil and gas from a well.

(3) In geology, a sandy depression in a sand dune ecosystem caused by the removal of sediments by wind.

(4) An extreme and unexpected increase in costs, such as in government estimates for a project (a popular Australian use although the budgetary outcomes are familiar just about everywhere).

(5) In medical slang, an act of defecation in which an incontinent person (usually an infant or toddler) produces a large amount of excrement that causes their diaper to overflow and leak (the companion slang the “poonami”).

(6) In engineering, the cleaning of the flues of a boiler from scale etc by blasting the surfaces with steam.

(7) In body-piercing, an unsightly flap of skin caused by an ear piercing that is too large.

(8) An instance of having one's hair blow-dried and styled.

(9) In tattooing, the blurring of a tattoo due to ink penetrating too far into the skin and dispersing.

(10) In woodworking, the damage done to the exit side of a drilled hole or sawn edge when no sacrificial backer-board is used during the drilling or sawing: the drill bit's or saw blade's exit on the far side causes chips of wood to be broken from the edge (sometimes called a “tearout”).

(11) In slang, a social function, especially one with extravagant catering.

(12) In slang, a large or extravagant meal.

(13) In slang, a sporting contest in which one side wins by an untypically wide margin; an overwhelming victory.

(14) In slang, an argument; an altercation.

(15) In Filipino slang, a party or social gathering.

1825: A creation of US colloquial English (the construct being blow + out) in the sense of “outburst, brouhaha” (and in a subtle linguistic shift such events would now, inter alia, be called a “blow-up”), from the verbal phrase, the reference being to pressure in a steam engine.  The elements “blow” and “out” both have many senses and the compound blowout is formed from the verb “blow” in the sense of “burst” or “explosion” plus the verb “out” in the sense of “eject or expel; discharge; oust”.  The verb blow was a pre-1000 form from the Middle English verb blowen, from the Old English blāwan (to blow, breathe, make a current of air, inflate, sound), from the Proto-West Germanic blāan, from the Proto-Germanic blēaną (to blow), from primitive Indo-European bhleh- (to swell, blow up) and may be compared with the Old High German blāen, the Latin flō (to blow) and the Old Armenian բեղուն (bełun) (fertile).  The verb out was from the pre-900 Middle English adverb out, from the Old English ūt (out, without, outside).  It was cognate with the Dutch uit, the German aus, the Old Norse & Gothic ūt and was akin to the Sanskrit ud-.  The Middle English verb was outen, from the Old English ūtian (to put out) and cognate with the Old Frisian ūtia.  Blowout is a noun; the noun plural is blowouts and the use as a verb non-standard.

The blowout as a source of irony.

Blowout is used as a modifier.  In retail commerce, a “blowout sale” is an event advertised as offering greater than usual discounts, with a real or notional intent to deplete the inventory.  Unlike the various uses in hairdressing, blowouts can be undesirable events and devices have been devised which prevent their unwanted occurrence: In electrical engineering a blowout coil (carrying an electric current) serves to deflect and thus extinguish an arc formed when the contacts of a switch part to turn off the current and in the messy business of drilling for oil, a “blowout preventer” is placed at the surface interface of an oil well to prevent blowouts by closing the orifice, allowing material to flow from the oil reservoir out through the shaft.  By contrast, in hairdressing, variants of the blowout deliberately are part of the process and in one use blowout is a generic descriptor of the taper fade (of which there are several variants.  There’s also the Brazilian blowout, a method temporarily to achieve straightening the hair by sealing a liquid keratin and preservative solution into the hair with a styling wand (hair iron).

1969 Ford Falcon GTHO #60 (Fred Gibson (b 1941) & Barry “Bo” Seton (b 1936)) on its roof after a blowout of the right-rear tyre, Mount Panorama, Bathurst, Australia. 

In motorsport there have been some famous tyre blowouts and in Australia, in 1969, it was exactly that which doomed the first appearance at Bathurst of the Falcon GTHO, a car purpose-built for the event with “a relief map of the Mount Panorama circuit in one hand and a bucket of Ford’s money in the other”.  As it would prove in subsequent years, the GTHO was ideal for the purpose but in 1969 the choice of some then exotic US-made Goodyear racing tyres proved an innovation too far, one of several blowouts resulting in a Ford works car ending on its roof.  Being an anti-clockwise circuit, it was the right-had tyres which were subject to the highest loads and, built for racing, the Phase I GTHOs were set-up to oversteer, further increasing the wear.  For next year, Ford doubled down, the Phase II GTHOs famous for their prodigious oversteer but this time the suspension was tuned to suit the tyres.

As a routine procedure, a “steam blowout” is carried out to remove the debris from superheaters and re-heaters that accumulate during manufacturing and installation, the purpose being to prevent damage to turbine blades and valves.  In the usual course of operation, a “blowout” is the release of excessive steam (ie pressure) via a “blow-off valve”.  The meaning “abundant feast” dates from 1824 while that of “the bursting of an automobile tire” was in use by at least 1908.  The alternative forms blow-out & blow out are also in use, especially when applied to tyres and the un-hyphenated from was chosen for the title of Blow Out (1981), a movie by US director Brian De Palma (b 1940)in which the plot hinged on whether it was a gunshot which caused a tyre to blow out.

Manfred von Brauchitsch in Mercedes-Benz W25B (#7) in front of the pits at the end of 1935 German Grand Prix, Nürbugring, 28 July 1935.  The left-rear tyre which suffered a last-lap blowout has disintegrated, the car driven to fourth place on the rim for the final 7 km (4.4 miles).

The most famous blowout however was that which happened on the last lap of the 1935 German Grand Prix, run before 220,000 spectators in treacherously wet conditions on the Nürbugring circuit in the Eifel mountains, then in its classic and challenging pre-war configuration of 22.7 km (14.1 miles).  The pre-race favourites were the then dominant straight-8 Mercedes-Benz W25s and V16 Auto Union Type Bs (both generously subsidized by the Nazi state) but, powerful, heavy and difficult to handle in wet conditions, their advantages substantially were negated, allowing what should have been the delicate but out-classed straight-8 Alfa Romeo P3s to be competitive and in the gifted hands of the Italian Tazio Nuvolari (1892–1953), one won the race.  The last lap was among the most dramatic in grand prix history, the Mercedes-Benz W25B of Manfred von Brauchitsch (1905–2003) holding a winning lead until a rear-tyre blowout, the car limping to the finish-line on a bare rim to secure fourth place.  Von Brauchitsch was the nephew of Generalfeldmarschall Walther von Brauchitsch (1881–1948), the imposing but ineffectual Oberbefehlshaber (Commander-in-Chief) of OKH (Oberkommando des Heeres (the German army's high command)) between 1938-1941.

Lindsay Lohan on the cover of Vogue Czechoslovakia, May 2025, photographed by the Morelli Brothers.

That there should be a Vogue Czechoslovakia despite the state of Czechoslovakia ceasing to be after 31 December 1992 may seem strange but the publication does exist and is sold in both the Czech Republic and Slovakia.  Launched in 2018, it was the first edition of Vogue published in either country and the title was an obvious choice for Condé Nast because in addition to the shared cultural heritage, there were no negative associations with the name “Czechoslovakia”; so amicable was the 1992 separation of the two states it was styled the “Velvet Divorce”.  Other attractions included branding & recognition (“Czechoslovakia” still enjoying strong international recognition because the component elements of the name have been retained by the new states so it has not passed into history like “Yugoslavia” when it broke up amidst war and slaughter) and the economies of scale gained by producing a single edition for two markets.  That reflects a general industry trend, the Czech Republic & Slovakia often treated as a single media market because of their (1) linguistic similarity, (2) cultural overlap and shared (though often troubled) history.  It worked out well for Conde Nast because they got a retro-modern identity evocative of a culturally rich past with a contemporary twist.

Lindsay Lohan’s Almond Milk Upper East Blowout hairstyle, Vogue Czechoslovakia, May 2025.

Czechoslovakia was created in 1918 when the Austro-Hungarian Empire of the Hapsburgs was dissolved and in this form it existed until dismembered progressively, beginning with the well-intentioned but shameful Munich Agreement in 1938.  After World War II (1939-1945), Czechoslovakia was re-established under its pre-1938 borders (with the exception of Carpathian Ruthenia, which became part of Soviet Union) but its fate was sealed when in 1948 the Communist Party (approved by comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) staged a coup and seized power, integrating the country behind the Iron Curtain into the Moscow-centric Eastern Bloc joining Comecon (Council for Mutual Economic Assistance, a kind of “Marshall Plan by rubles”) in 1955 and the Warsaw Pact (the Soviet’s counterpoint to NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization) in 1955.  An uprising in 1968 (the so called “Prague Spring”) seeking political & economic liberalization ruthlessly was crushed by Russian tank formations sent by Leonid Brezhnev (1906–1982; Soviet leader 1964-1982) and it wasn’t until 1989, following the fall of the Berlin Wall, the people peacefully overthrew Communist Party rule in what was labelled the “Velvet Revolution”, thus the adoption of “Velvet Divorce” to describe the unusually quiet (and not at all bloody) constitutional separation of the two sovereign states.

Lindsay Lohan in halter neck black dress with white bodice and stylized bow, her Upper East Blowout under an outrageously extravagant tulle hat, Vogue Czechoslovakia, May, 2025.

The Hairstyle used for Lindsay Lohan’s Vogue cover shoot is known as the “Upper East Blowout”, designed deliberately to evoke the glamour of the stars from the golden age of Hollywood (essentially the 1930s-1950s) and the particular one worn by Ms Lohan specifically was called an “Almond Milk Upper East Blowout”, a construct which seems an intriguing piece of subliminal marketing.  “Almond Milk” was a obviously an allusion to the color but the fluid is also a pleasingly expensive (an important association in product-positioning) and trendy alternative to the mainstream dairy offerings with obvious appeal to vegetarians, vegans and animal rights activists.  For some it can be a wise choice, nutritionists noting (unsweetened) almond milk is a good source of vitamin-E and is lower in calories, protein, sugar and saturated fat while cow’s milk is more nutrient-dense and higher in protein, naturally containing lactose and saturated fats.  Because of that, fortification is essential for almond milk to match dairy milk’s micro-nutrient content but for those choosing on the basis of their dietary regime (vegans, the lactose intolerant etc), unsweetened, fortified almond can be a healthy option.  The “Upper East Side” element is a reference to the neighborhood in the borough of New York City’s (NYC) Manhattan.  Because of the vagueness in NYC’s neighborhood boundaries (they’re not officially gazetted), opinions vary as to where the place begins and ends but in the popular (and certainly the international) imagination, “Upper East Side” is most associated with places such as Fifth Avenue and Central Park which lie to the west.  While New Yorkers may not always know exactly what the Upper East Side is, they have no doubts about which parts definitely are NOT UES.  Long regarded as the richest and thus most prestigious of the New York boroughs, by the late nineteenth century informally it was known as the “silk stocking district”, the idea reflected still in the desirable real estate, expensive shops along Madison Avenue and its cluster of cultural institutions including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Frick Collection and the Guggenheim Museum.

Jessica Rabbit in characteristic pose (left) and Lindsay Lohan with "almond milk Upper East Blowout" hairstyle in black leather corset with silk laces and stainless steel eyelets.

Technically, the hairstyle is a “blowout” because historically the look was achieved with a combination of product & blow dryer; that’s still how most are done.  Because the really dramatic blowouts demand significant volume (ideally of “thick” hair), it can’t be achieved by everyone in their natural state and for Ms Lohan’s cover shot celebrity hairstylist Dimitris Giannetos (b 1983, Instagram: @dimitrishair) engineered things using a wig by Noah Scott (b 1998, Instagram: @whatwigs) of What Wigs, the industry’s go-to source for extravagant hair-pieces.  The use of “almond milk” to describe a shade of blonde was a bit opportunistic and would seem very similar to hues known variously as “light cool”, “light golden”, “champagne”, “golden honey” & “light ombre” but product differentiation is there to be grabbed and it seems to have caught on so it’ll be interesting to see if it gains industry support and endures to become one of the “standard blondes”.  So the linguistic effect is intended to be accumulative, Mr Giannetos calling his “Upper East blowout” “an homage” to the New York of the popular imagination and some of the hairstyles which appeared in the publicity shots of golden age Hollywood stars, memorably captured by the depiction of Jessica Rabbit in Robert Zemeckis’s (b 1952) live/animated toon hybrid movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988).  Think luxuriant waves meet old money.

However, a Vogue cover shot in a well-lit studio and created using a custom-made wig, styled by an expert hairdresser is one thing but to replicate the look IRL (in real life) is another because, despite what shampoo advertisements would have us believe, “high-gloss” rarely just happens and even with a wig, to achieve the required fullness and visual volume usually demands what needs to be understood as structural engineering.  Usually, this will necessitate “…extensions set in pin curls, then brushed out meticulously…” before being shaped with the appropriate product as a device.  Expectations need to be realistic because with each change in camera angle, it can be necessary to “re-blow and re-style”; while it’s not quite that each strand needs to be massages into place for each shot, that can be true of each wave and just because the hair looks soft and bouncy in the images on a magazine’s glossy pages, the use of fudge or moose to achieve the look can render locks IRL remarkable rigid.