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Thursday, February 19, 2026

Dart

Dart (pronounced dahrt)

(1) A small, slender missile, sharply pointed at one end, typically feathered (or with the shape emulated in plastic) at the other and (1) propelled by hand, as in the game of darts (2) by a blowgun when used as a weapon or (3) by some form of mechanical device such as a dart-gun.

(2) Something similar in function to such a missile.

(3) In zoology, a slender pointed structure, as in snails for aiding copulation or in nematodes for penetrating the host's tissues; used generally to describe the stinging members of insects.

(4) Any of various tropical and semitropical fish, notably the dace (Leuciscus leuciscus).

(5) Any of various species of the hesperiid butterfly notably the dingy dart (of the species Suniana lascivia, endemic to Australia).

(6) In the plural (as darts (used with a singular verb), a game in which darts are thrown at a target usually marked with concentric circles divided into segments and with a bull's-eye in the center.

(7) In tailoring, a tapered seam of fabric for adjusting the fit of a garment (a tapered tuck).

(8) In military use, a dart-shaped target towed behind an aircraft to train shooters (a specific shape of what was once called a target drone).

(9) An act of darting; a sudden swift movement; swiftly to move; to thrust, spring or start suddenly and run swiftly.

(10) To shoot with a dart, especially a tranquilizer dart.

(11) To throw with a sudden effort or thrust; to hurl or launch.

(12) To send forth suddenly or rapidly; to emit; to shoot.

(13) In genetics, as the acronym DarT, Diversity arrays Technology (a genetic marker technique).

(14) Figuratively, words which wound or hurt feelings.

(15) In slang, a cigarette (Canada & Australia; dated).  The idea was a “lung dart”.

(16) In slang, a plan, plot or scheme (Australia, obsolete).

(17) In disaster management, as the acronym DART, variously: Disaster Assistance Response Team, Disaster Animal Response Team, Disaster Area Response Team, Disaster Assistance & Rescue Team and Disaster Response Team

1275–1325: From the Middle English dart & darce, from the Anglo-French & Old French dart & dard (dart), from the Late Latin dardus (dart, javelin), from the Old Low Franconian darōþu (dart, spear), from the Proto-Germanic darōþuz (dart, spear), from the primitive Indo-European dherh- (to leap, spring);.  It was related to the Old English daroth (spear), daroþ & dearod (javelin, spear, dart), the Swedish dart (dart, dagger), the Icelandic darraður, darr & dör (dart, spear), the Old High German tart (dart) and the Old Norse darrathr (spear, lance).  The Italian and Spanish dardo are believed to be of Germanic origin via Old Provençal.  The word dart can be quite specific but depending on context the synonyms can include arrow or barb (noun), dash, bolt or shoot (verb) or cigarette (slang).  Dart & darting are nouns & verbs, darted & dartle are verbs, darter is a noun, verb & adjective, dartingness is a noun, darty is a verb & adjective, dartingly is an adverb; the noun plural is darts.

Between the eyeballs: Crooked Hillary Clinton dart board.

The late fourteenth century darten (to pierce with a dart) was from the noun and is long obsolete while the sense of “throw with a sudden thrust" dates from the 1570s.  The intransitive meaning “to move swiftly” emerged in the 1610s, as did that of “spring or start suddenly and run or move quickly” (ie “as a dart does”).  The name was first applied to the small European freshwater fish in the mid-fifteenth century, based on the creature’s rapid, sudden (darting) movements (other names included dars, dase & dare, from the Old French darz (a dace), the nominative or plural of dart, all uses based on the fish’s swiftness.  The alternative etymology in this context was a link with the Medieval Latin darsus (a dart), said to be of Gaulish origin.

The name dart is now also used of various (similar or related) various tropical and semitropical fish.  It was in Middle English Cupid's love-arrows were first referred to as Cupid's dart (Catananche caerulea).  The modern dart-board was unknown until 1901 although similar games (the idea of archery with hand-thrown arrows) long predated this.  In zoology, the marvelously named “dart sac” describes a sac connected with the reproductive organs of certain land snails; it contains the “love dart” the synonyms of which are bursa telae & stylophore.  In archaeology, the term “fairy dart” describes a prehistoric stone arrowhead (an elf arrow).  A “poison dart” may be fired either from a dart gun or a blow-pipe (the term “dart-pipe” seems never to have been current) while a tranquilizer dart (often used in the management of large or dangerous animals) is always loaded into a dart gun.  The terms “javelin dart”, “lawn jart”, “jart” & “yard dart” are terms which refer to the large darts used in certain lawn games.  In the hobby of model aircraft, a “lawn dart” is an airframe with a noted propensity to crash (although it’s noted “pilot error” is sometimes a factor in this).  In military history, the “rope dart” was a weapon from ancient China which consisted of a long rope with a metal dart at the end, used to attack targets from long-range.

Lindsay Lohan enjoying the odd dart.  Inhaling a known carcinogen is of course not recommended but undeniably, Lindsay Lohan could make smoking look sexy 

The Dodge Dart

The original Dodge Dart was one of Chrysler's show cars which debuted in 1956, an era in which Detroit's designers were encouraged to let their imaginations wander among supersonic aircraft, rockets and the spaceships SF (science fiction) authors speculated would be used for the interplanetary travel some tried to convince their readers was not far in the future.  When first shown, the Dart featured a retractable hard-top (something Ford would soon offer in a production car) but when the that year's show season was over, it was shipped back to Carrozzeria Ghia in Turin to be fitted with a more conventional, folding soft-top.  After a return trans-Atlantic crossing, when the 1957 show circuit concluded (during which it was dubbed "Dart II"), it was again updated by Ghia and re-named Diablo (from the Spanish diablo (devil)).

1957 Dodge Diablo, the third and final version of the 1956 Dodge Dart show car.

Although a length of 218 inches (5.5 m) probably now sounds extravagant, by the standards of US designs in the 1950s it fitted in and among the weird and wonderful designs of the time (the regular production models as well as the show cars) the lines and detailing were really quite restrained and compared with many, the design has aged well, some of the styling motifs re-surfacing in subsequent decades, notably the wedge-look.  Underneath, the Diablo’s mechanicals were familiar, a 392 cubic inch (6.4 litre) Chrysler Hemi V8 with dual four-barrel carburetors delivering power to the rear wheels through a push-button TorqueFlite automatic transmission.  Rated at 375 horsepower, the Hemi ensured the performance matched the looks, something aided by the exceptional aerodynamic efficiency, the claimed Cd (coefficient of drag) of 0.17 state of the art even in 2026.  Some engineers doubt it would return such a low number using modern wind-tunnel techniques but, by the standards of the age, doubtlessly it was slippery and (with less hyperbole than usual), Chrysler promoted the Diablo as the “Hydroplane on Wheels”,  During Chrysler’s ownership of Lamborghini (1987-1994), the name was revived for the Lamborghini Diablo 1990-2001 which replaced the Countach (1974-1990).  Visually, both the Italian cars own something of a debt to the Darts of the 1950s but neither represented quite the advance in aerodynamics Chrysler achieved all those years ago although the Lamborghini was good enough finally to achieve 200 mph (320 km/h), something which in the 1970s & 1980s, the Countach and the contemporary Ferrari 365 GT4 BB (Berlinetta Boxer, 1973-1984) never quite managed, disappointing some.  The 1970s was a time of many disappointed expectations.

The memorable 1957 Chrysler 300C (left) showed the influence of the Diablo but a more rococo sensibility had afflicted the corporation which the 1960 Dart Phoenix D500 Convertible (right) illustrates.  Things would get worse. 

Dodge began production of the Dart in late 1959 as a lower-priced full-sized car, something necessitated by a corporate decision to withdraw the availability of Plymouths from Dodge dealerships.  Dodge benefited from this more than Plymouth but the model ranges of both were adjusted, along with those sold as Chryslers, resulting in the companion DeSoto brand (notionally positioned between Dodge & Chrysler) being squeezed to death; the last DeSotos left the factory in 1960 and the division shuttered.  Unlike its namesake from the show circuit, the 1959 Dodge Dart was hardly exceptional and it would barely have been noticed by the press had it not been for an unexpected corporate squabble between Chrysler and Daimler, a low volume English manufacturer of luxury vehicles (leather, burl walnut and all that) that was branching out into the sports car market.  Daimler planned to call their little roadster the "Dart".

Using one of his trademark outdoor settings, Norman Parkinson (1913-1990) photographed model Suzanne Kinnear (b 1935) adorning a Daimler Dart (SP250), wearing a Kashmoor coat and Otto Lucas beret with jewels by Cartier.  The image was published on the cover of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959.

With great expectations, Daimler displayed their Dart at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the little sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid choice Daimler had for years offered (it was trying to forget the unpleasantness of the Docker Daimlers” which were certainly not staid), the company had chosen the pleasingly alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast (fast, genuinely it was, powered by a jewel-like 2.5 litre (155 cubic inch) V8 which generated an exhaust note of rare quality).  Unfortunately for them, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.  Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys and it could have been worse.  Dodge had submitted their proposal for the Dart to the board but while the car found favor, the name did not and the marketing department was told to conduct research and come up with something the public would like.  From this the marketing types gleaned that “Dodge Zipp” would be popular and to be fair, dart and zip(p) can imply much the same thing but ultimately, the original was preferred.

Things get worse: The 1962 Dodge Dart (the single-season “second generation”) looked truly bizarre; things would sometimes be stranger than this but not often.

Dodge’s stylists (they weren’t yet called “designers”) were responsible for the appearance of the second generation Dart (something they could as they wish think of as proud boast or admission of guilt) but the reduced dimensions of it and the companion Polara were a consequence of corporate industrial espionage.  One of Chrysler’s spies (they had euphemistic job titles) had discovered Chevrolet’s new range would be smaller and this information was vital because, as the market’s highest volume manufacturer, where Chevrolet went, so the rest of the industry was compelled to follow so Chrysler made the decision to anticipate the future and downsize.  However, while the intelligence was correct, the analysis was flawed because what Chevrolet was developing was a new range, slotted between the large cars and the relatively new “compacts”, introduced in 1959-1960; the new concept were the “intermediates”, dimensionally between the compacts and what would come to be called the “full-size” lines.  Amusingly, the intermediates were about the size the standard US automobile had been as recently as the mid 1950s before rising prosperity saw it grown to a size many thought absurd; as fat overtook the land, so it did what rolled off Detroit’s production lines.

1962 Dodge Dart.

The intermediates proved a great success but Dodge’s problem in 1962 was it was selling a Dart it called “full-size” while obviously it no longer was.  In the US, there’s always been a sizeable part of the population that subscribes to the “bigger is always better” school of thought and it was them who maintained strong demand for the full-size machines, something the Dart’s redesign meant Dodge no longer could put in their showrooms.  To bandage over this self-inflicted injury, hastily was conjured the Dodge Custom 880, created by bolting the 1961 Dodge Polara front end to the larger 1962 Chrysler Newport (Chrysler’s “entry-level” model which had been the last nail in DeSoto’s coffin.  However, one silver lining in having available the smaller, lighter Dart was that when fitted with the potent (rated at a realistic 415 HP (309 kW)) 413 cubic inch (6.8 litre) “Ramcharger” V8, it was highly competitive in drag racing, where it established a number of records.

Dodge got it right with the 1967-1976 Darts which could be criticized for blandness but the design was simple, balanced and enjoyed international appeal.  Two versions by Chrysler Australia are pictured, a 1971 VG VIP sedan (left) and a 1970 VG Regal 770 Hardtop (right), both fitted with the 318 cubic inch (5.2 litre) LA V8.  

If Daimler had their problems with the Dart (which turned out to go beyond the nomenclature), so did Dodge.  After the misinterpretation of their spy's good work, Dodge's sales suffered because it was perceived to be offering “less metal for the money” which was true.  The Q&D (quick & dirty) solution of the disguised Newport papered over the crack until a permanent solution could be produced but not until the next model cycle (which began in the 1965 season) was Dodge's full-size line truly re-aligned.  However, one long-lasting benefit was the decision to take advantage of the public perception “Dart” now meant something smaller and Dodge in 1963 shifted the name to its compact line which for years would in many places be a success.  It was the generation built for a decade between 1967-1976 which was most lucrative for the corporation, the cheap-to-produce platform providing the basis for vehicles as diverse as taxi-cabs, pick-ups, convertibles, remarkably effective muscle cars and even some crazy machines almost ready for the drag strip.  Being a compact-sized car in the US, the Dart also proved a handy export to markets where it could be sold as a “big” car and the Dart (sometimes locally assembled or wholly or partially manufactured) was sold in Mexico, Australia, New Zealand, the UK, Europe, East Asia, South Africa and South America.  In a form little different from the original, the “compact” Dart lasted until 1980 in South America and in Australia until 1981 although there the body-shape had in 1971 switched to the “fuselage” style with the platform carried over.

How a Dodge Hemi Dart would have appeared in 1968 (left) and Hemi Darts ready for collection or dispatch in the yard of the Detroit production facility.

The most highly regarded of the 1967-1976 US Darts were those fitted with the 340 cubic inch (5.6 litre) small-block (LA) V8 which created a much better all-round package than those using the 383 (6.3) and 7.2 (7.2) big-block V8s which tended to be inferior in just about every way unless travelling in a straight line on a very smooth surface (preferably over a distance of about a ¼ mile (400 m) and even there the 340 over-delivered.  The wildest of all the Darts were the 80 (built in 1968) equipped with a version of the 426 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Hemi V8 tuned to a specification closer to race-ready than that used in the “Street Hemi” which was the corporation’s highest-performance option.  Except for the drive-train, the Hemi Darts were an extreme example of what the industry called a “strippers”: cars “stripped” of all but the essentials.  There was thus no radio and no carpeting, common enough in strippers but the Hemi Darts lacked even armrests, external rear-view mirrors, window-winding mechanisms or even a back seat.  Nor was the appearance of these shockingly single-purpose machines anything like what was usually seen in a showroom, most of the body painted only in primer while the hood (bonnet) and front fenders, rendered in lightweight black fibreglass, were left unpainted.

The warning: What not to do, lest one's grape block should turn to wine.  In the same vein, seeking to avoid tiresome legal difficulties, Dodge had purchasers sign an addendum to the sales contract acknowledging Hemi Darts were not intended not as road cars but for use in “supervised acceleration trials” (ie drag racing).  Despite that, these were the last days that in the US one could find a jurisdiction prepared to register such things for street use and some owners did that, apparently taking Dodge’s disclaimer about as seriously as those in the prohibition era (1920-1933) observed the warning on packets of “concentrated grape blocks” not add certain things to the mix, “otherwise fermentation sets in”.

The Dendrobates tinctorius “Giant Orange”.  The common name (Dyeing Poison Dart Frog) was derived from reports by European explorers that in regions where it was endemic, indigenous inhabitants used brightly colored frogs to dye feathers & fabrics.  The collective noun for frogs is a group of frogs is army, colony or knot.

Described by retailers as a “great beginner frog” (the reason for that presumably understood by collectors) and “best kept in pairs”, a typical RRP (recommended retail price) in the US seems to range between US$79-99.  The adjective tinctorious (from the noun tincture) dates from the late eighteenth century and appears first to have been used of colorful plants.  Even in horticulture it has become rare but an echo survives in the Dendrobates Tinctorius, a frog much prized by collectors and photographers for its striking colors and patterns.  Unsurprisingly referred to by the standard abbreviation “tincs”, Dendrobates Tinctorius is one of the largest species of poison dart frogs, although in global terms still hardly large, the largest some 2 inches (50 mm) length. They are native to the rainforests of South America and appear in dramatic color combinations including hues of blue, black, yellow and orange but safely can be kept by hobbyists because in captivity they're not poisonous, the toxicity in the wild by virtue of their preferred diet of small invertebrates, not consumed in a captive environment.  Prices of adults in the most desired color mixes can exceed US$200.

Although prized by batrachophiles (frog enthusiasts) and giggers (those who collect or hunt wild frogs (by hand for those wanting live specimens; others resorting usually to a pronged spear), the Dart frog mostly had been obscure amphibians until in February 2026 a collective statement by the intelligence agencies of four European nations (France, Germany the Netherlands, Sweden & the UK) released the results of an inquiry which found Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny (1976-2024) had been murdered by use of a deadly toxin found in the skin of Ecuadorian dart frogs (epibatidine).  The investigators concluded the murder was committed by an agent or agents of the Russian state, Mr Navalny dying while imprisoned in a remote Arctic penal colony where he was serving a 19-year sentence; tissue samples from his body were secured prior to his burial and it was these which were analysed in Western laboratories.  A statement from the British government added that as well as the “barbaric” assassination, the use of a toxin was a “…flagrant violation by Russia of the CWC” (chemical weapons convention) and it would be lodging a report with the OPCW (Organisation for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons).

Alexei Navalny (standing, centre) in a screen capture from CCTV footage of a court session, IK-2 penal colony, Vladimir region, Russia, February, 2022.

Stating what was, given Mr Navalny’s incarceration in the arctic, the obvious, the statement made the point: “Only the Russian state had the means, motive and opportunity to deploy this lethal toxin to target Navalny during his imprisonment in a Russian penal colony in Siberia, and we hold it responsible for his death.  Epibatidine can be found naturally in dart frogs in the wild in South America.  Dart frogs in captivity do not produce this toxin and it is not found naturally in Russia.  There is no innocent explanation for its presence in Navalny’s body. Additionally, it was noted each little frog had in its skin little more than a microgram of the toxin and a laboratory would need to have harvested hundreds of them to extract the volume sufficient to produce a deliverable dose of sufficient potency to kill a healthy, adult human.  Even had Mr Navalny been permitted to keep in his cell a colony of a dozen Dart frogs which he force-fed with small invertebrates, they’d not have posed a danger.  Although the KGB (including its precursor organizations and various franchises within the Warsaw Pact) once favored traditional murder weapons (clubs, bullets, ice axes, daggers, bare hands etc), of late they’ve gone more “high tech” and as well frog toxins, use has extended to (1) ricin (a highly toxic protein derived from castor beans) delivered by a dart gun (disguised as a umbrella!) which was used to kill dissident author Georgi Markov (1929-1978), (2) radioactive polonium served (in a cup of tea!) to defector Alexander Litvinenko (1962-2006) and (3) the Russian-developed Novichok (nerve agent) although former KGB spy Sergei Skripal (b 1951) survived that attempt on his life.  All three of those incidents occurred in London, the KGB liking to remind dissidents, defectors and other trouble-makers that they’re safe nowhere.  Despite the history, the Kremlin continued to maintain Mr Navalny died from “natural causes” and claimed the allegations were just: “A planted story and attempt by Western governments to distract attention from their many problems.”  The denial from Moscow was treated by western analysts as a tacit admission of guilt on the basis of the Cold War dictum: “Something cannot be thought proven true until the Kremlin denies it.

Replica of “Umbrella gun” produced by the KGB’s Moscow laboratory, 1978, International museum of spying.  One of the most commonly carried accessories in London, a “special” umbrella was an ideal murder weapon in that city, able to be “hidden in plain sight” whereas an an ice axe might be conspicuous.  This is one of the best-known dart guns.    

Russians famously enjoy dark humor but it’s not known if they chose to deliver the Dart Frog toxin with a dart gun although that would have been a fitting nod to “special umbrella” used in 1978 to target Georgi Markov as crossed the Thames, walking across Waterloo Bridge; there was a time when the notion of “dart frog juice in a dart gun” would much have pleased those in the Lubyanka but perhaps things are now more corporatized.  However it was done, the death of Alexei Navalny is one chapter in the long (and still growing) list of assassinations by the Russian or Soviet State and, as a piece of applied statecraft, the practice dates from at least Russia's early monarchical era which began in the 860s.  It was however under comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) that state-sanctioned murder was undertaken on an industrial scale (indeed, so large was the death toll most historians estimate the body-count only by rounding (usually up) to the closest million) and of the many victims, the most celebrated remains comrade Leon Trotsky (1879-1940; founder of the Fourth International), once one of Stalin’s fellow Bolshevik revolutionaries.

Comrade Stalin (left), an ice axe (centre) and comrade Trotsky (right).  The standard-length ice axe is ideal for its intended purpose but to large easily to be concealed under clothing and too cumbersome to comfortably to wield in a confined space.  

Even by the standards of political assassinations (a long tale of the brutal and bizarre), the events surrounding Trotsky’s death were unusual.  Although, living in exile in Mexico, comrade Trotsky’s influence on those in the Soviet Union (or anywhere else) was negligible, not only was comrade Stalin a great hater who nursed his many grudges until circumstances permitted a good opportunity for vengeance but he also thought ahead; concerned Trotsky and his heretical writings might one day be a real threat, years before the assassin’s visit, he’d decided his erstwhile associate must die.  The NKVD had already succeeded in killing Trotsky’s son (imaginatively disguised as “medical misadventure” during a routine appendectomy) and, more dramatically, had decapitated his secretary in his Paris apartment but operations beyond Europe were more complex and the agent allocated the task was the Moscow-trained Spanish communist Ramón Mercader (1913–1978), then also living in exile in Mexico City under the pseudonym Frank Jacson.  Diligently watching his residence and researching the habits of his target, comrade Mercader posed as the lover of Trotsky's courier and was convincing enough to be welcomed into the impressively fortified villa on the city’s outskirts.  Either the NKVD’s training in such matters was first-rate or Mercader had a flair for the business because, after bringing Trotsky’s grandchildren presents and playing games with them in the garden, over the course of weeks, he became a valued house-guest, often engaging his intended victim in earnest discussions about politics and international affairs, careful always to ensure his host could assume the role of wise oracle.

Early on Tuesday, 20 August 1940, on the pretext of asking if an article he’d drafted was ready for publication, the assassin handed over the manuscript which Trotsky took to his desk and began reading, his back to the author.  Although also carrying a dagger and revolver, Mercader choose as the murder weapon the ice axe he’d be able to conceal under his raincoat by shortening it (sawing off half the wooden handle), his reasonable rationale being (1) it should be more effective than the knife and (2) it would be quieter than discharging the gun.  In seconds, Mercader drove the pick into the back of Trotsky’s skull and although the injury would prove mortal, it was not instantly fatal, the immediate aftermath described by the killer during a subsequent police interview: “[He] screamed in such a way that I will never forget it as long as I live. His scream was Aaaaa . . . very long, infinitely long and it still seems to me as if that scream were piercing my brain. I saw Trotsky get up like a madman.  He threw himself at me and bit my hand…  Mercader would likely have been beaten to death by Trotsky’s bodyguards but was saved by the dying man ordering them to stop because he wanted to have him admit his evil deed had been done on the orders of comrade Stalin.  The next day, in hospital, he succumbed to a traumatic brain injury but not before cursing Stalin as his killer.

Ten years after: rootless cosmopolitan comrade Trotsky (left) talking to comrade Stalin (right), Moscow, 1930 (left) and Mexican police showing the "sawn-off" ice axe used in the murder (right).

By the standards of NKVD “wet operations” (clandestine, “authorized” executions) the “Mexico business” was messy with (1) the assassin arrested, (2) the murder weapon taken as evidence, (3) the body not disposed of and (4) the cause of death certainly not able to be classed as “an accident”, “misadventure” or “natural causes”.  The suspect however did not implicate the NKVD, initially claiming he’d killed Trotsky over a dispute they were having on a doctrinal matter relating to Marxist interpretation and later changing the story to allege it was over something more personal; this he maintained while serving his 20 year sentence in a Mexico prison; Moscow denied having anything to do the matter, even expressing condolences to the family.  That was of course is an MRDA in the spirit of: “Something cannot be thought proven true until the Kremlin denies it” which, as the Alexei Navalny affair suggests, is a dictum which remains valid still in this century.  Still, analysts today conclude comrade Stalin may not have been wholly unhappy at the “botched” operation because (1) he had “plausible deniability” of involvement and (2) the murder made headlines around the word so those likely to be “trouble-makers” would know NKVD agents were capable of liquidating high-level, well-protected targets, well beyond the borders of the Soviet Union.  So there was a silver lining, unlike the later “botched” dispatch of dissident Saudi Arabian journalist Jamal Khashoggi (1958-2018) in the Saudi consulate in Istanbul, Türkiye.

Unannounced and for decades not revealed, comrade Stalin decorated comrade Mercader in absentia, presumably for “services to the state” although publicly he denounced him as a “dangerous Trotskyist”, disavowing any involvement in the crime.  After serving nearly all his sentence, Mercader was released, in 1961 returning to the Soviet Union after a brief sojourn in Cuba, then under new management following comrade Fidel Castro’s (1926–2016; prime-minister or president of Cuba 1959-2008) communist revolution.  In Moscow, the KGB presented him with the nation’s highest awards (Hero of the Soviet Union & the Order of Lenin), after which he enjoyed two decades odd of comfortable semi-retirement in a number of sinecures in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.  It was only after dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 when, for a brief few years the state’s archives were open to Western researchers, that documents were discovered confirming the assassination had been a NKVD operation authorized “at the highest level in Moscow” (ie comrade Stalin signed the death warrant, his hand well-practiced at such things).

Tuesday, February 3, 2026

Pylon

Pylon (pronounced pahy-lon)

(1) A marking post or tower for guiding aviators, much used in air-racing to mark turning points in a a prescribed course of flight.

(2) A relatively tall structure at the side of a gate, bridge, or avenue, marking an entrance or approach.

(3) A monumental tower forming the entrance to an ancient Egyptian temple, consisting either of a pair of tall quadrilateral masonry masses with sloping sides and a doorway between them or of one such mass pierced with a doorway.

(4) In electricity transmission, a steel tower or mast carrying high-tension lines, telephone wires, or other cables and lines (usually as power-pylon, electricity pylon or transmission tower).

(5) In architecture (1) a tall, tower-like structure (usually of steel or concrete) from which cables are strung to support other structures and (2) a lighting mast; a freestanding support for floodlights.

(6) In aeronautics, a streamlined, finlike structure used to attach engines, auxiliary fuel tanks, bombs, etc to an aircraft wing or fuselage.

(7) In modeling, as “pylon shot”, a pose in which a model stands with arms raised or extended outwards, resembling an electricity pylon.

(8) An alternative name for an obelisk.

(9) In aviation, a starting derrick for an aircraft (obsolete) and a tethering point for an dirigible (airship).

(10) In American football (gridiron), an orange marker designating one of the four corners of the field’s end zones.

(11) In the slang of artificial limb makers (1) a temporary artificial leg and (2) a rigid prosthesis for the lower leg.

(12) In literature, as "Pylon Poet" (usually in the plural as “the Pylons”), a group of British poets who during the 1930s included in their work many references to new & newish mechanical devices and other technological developments.

(13) In slang, a traffic cone.

1823: A learned borrowing from Ancient Greek πυλών (puln; pyln) (gateway; gate tower), from pylē (gate, wing of a pair of double gates; an entrance, entrance into a country; mountain pass; narrow strait of water) of unknown origin but etymologists suspect it may be a technical term (from architecture or construction) from another language.  The first use was in archaeology to describe a “gateway to an Egyptian temple”, a direct adaptation of the original Greek.  In Western architecture, it’s believed the first “modern” pylons were the tall, upright structures installed at aerodromes to guide aviators and it was the appearance of these things which inspired the later use as “power pylon” (steel tower for high-tension wires over distance, use noted since 1923) and the word spread to any number of similar looking devices (even those on a small scale such as traffic cones).  Until then, in engineering and architecture, tall structures used to carry cables or in some way provide support (or even be mere decorative) were described as a “tower” or “obelisk” (such use continuing).  Pylon is a noun and pylonless, pylonlike, pylonesque & pylonish are adjectives; the noun plural is pylons.  Despite the fondness in engineering for such forms to emerge, the verbs pyloned & pyloning seem never to have been coined.

The Ancient Greek πυλών (puln; pyln) was used of the grand architecture seen in the entrances to temples and the usual word for doors (and gates) rather more modest was θύρα (thýra).  It was a feminine noun and appears in various forms depending on the grammatical case (θύρα (nominative singular; a door), θύρας (genitive singular; of a door) & θύραι (nominative plural; doors).  Etymologists believe θύρα may have undergone phonological changes, adapting to Greek morphology and pronunciation patterns, while retaining its fundamental meaning tied to entryways or openings.  The word was from the primitive Indo-European dhur or dhwer (door; gateway) which was the source also of the Latin foris (door, entrance), the Sanskrit dvā́r (door, gate), the Old English duru (door) and the Old Norse dyrr (door).  Because of their functional role and symbolism as thresholds (ie transition, entry, protection), the door played a prominent part in linguistic as well as architectural evolution.

Temple of Isis, first pylon, north-eastern view.

The Ancient Greek πυλών (puln; pyln) was the classical term for an Egyptian ceremonial gateway (bekhenet) used in temples from at least the Middle Kingdom to the Roman period (circa 2040 BC–AD 395) and anthropologists have concluded the intent was to symbolize the horizon.  The basic structure of a pylon consisted of two massive towers of rubble-filled masonry tapering upwards, surmounted by a cornice and linked in the centre by an elaborate doorway.  Ancient depictions of pylons show that the deep vertical recesses visible along the facades of surviving examples were intended for the mounting of flag staffs.

An “anchor pylon” is the one which forms the endpoint of a high-voltage and differs from other pylons in that it uses horizontal insulators, necessary when interfacing with other modes of power transmission and (owing to the inflexibility of the conductors), when significantly altering the direction of the pylon chain.  In large-scale display advertizing, a “pylon sign” is a tall sign supported by one or more poles and in the original industry jargon was something in what would now be called “portrait mode”; a sign in “landscape mode” being a “billboard”.  Not surprisingly, there are a number of mountains known as “Pylon Peak”.  The task of naming such geological features is part of the field of toponymy (in semantics the lexicological study of place names(a branch of onomastics)) and a specialist in such things is known as a toponymist.  The term toponomy was later borrowed by medicine where it was used of the nomenclature of anatomical regions. In aviation, the “pylon turn” is a flight maneuver in which an aircraft banks into a circular turn around a fixed point on the ground.

The Ancient Greek πυλών (puln; pyln) was used of the grand architecture seen in the entrances to temples and the usual word for doors (and gates) rather more modest was θύρα (thýra).  It was a feminine noun and appears in various forms depending on the grammatical case (θύρα (nominative singular; a door), θύρας (genitive singular; of a door) & θύραι (nominative plural; doors).  Etymologists believe θύρα may have undergone phonological changes, adapting to Greek morphology and pronunciation patterns, while retaining its fundamental meaning tied to entryways or openings.  The word was from the primitive Indo-European dhur or dhwer (door; gateway) which was the source also of the Latin foris (door, entrance), the Sanskrit dvā́r (door, gate), the Old English duru (door) and the Old Norse dyrr (door).  Because of their functional role and symbolism as thresholds (ie transition, entry, protection), the door played a prominent part in linguistic as well as architectural evolution.

The plyon pose: Lindsay Lohan demonstrates some variations.

In modeling, the “pylon shot” is used to describe the pose in which a model stands with arms raised or extended outwards, resembling (at least vaguely) an electricity pylon, the appearance of which is anthropomorphic.  There are practical benefits for designers in that raising the arms permits a photographer to include more of a garment in the frame and this can be significant if there’s detailing which are at least partially concealed with the arms in their usual position.  Topless models also adopt variations of the pose because the anatomical affect of raising the arms also lifts and to some extent re-shapes the breasts, lending them temporarily a higher, a more pleasing aspect.

The Pylons

The so-called “pylon poets” (referred to usually as “the Pylons”) were a group who dominated British poetry during the 1930s, a time when the form assumed a greater cultural and intellectual significance than today.  The best known (and certainly among the most prolific) of the Pylons were Louis MacNeice (1907–1963), Stephen Spender (1909–1995), WH Auden (1907-1973) and Cecil Day-Lewis (1904–1972), their names sometimes conflated as “MacSpaunday”.  It was Spender’s poem The Pylons which inspired the nickname and it referenced the frequent references to the images of “industrial modernity”, drawn from new(ish) technology and the machinery of factories.  The intrusion of novel machinery and technology into a variety of fields is not unusual; in the age of steam the devices were used as similes when speculating about the operation of the human brain, just as the terminology of computers came to be used when the lexicon entered the public imagination.  Their method underlying the output of the pylons was influenced by the metaphysical poetry of John Donne (circa 1571-1631) whose use of “scientific” imagery was much admired by TS Eliot (1888–1965), the work of whom was acknowledged as influential by both Auden and Spender.  However, the 1930s were the years of the Great Depression and probably their most fertile source was Marxist materialism although, of the Pylons, historians tend to regard only Day-Lewis as one of the “useful idiots”.

The Pylons (1933) by Stephen Spender.

The secret of these hills was stone, and cottages
Of that stone made,
And crumbling roads
That turned on sudden hidden villages
 
Now over these small hills, they have built the concrete
That trails black wire
Pylons, those pillars
Bare like nude giant girls that have no secret.
 
The valley with its gilt and evening look
And the green chestnut
Of customary root,
Are mocked dry like the parched bed of a brook.
 
But far above and far as sight endures
Like whips of anger
With lightning's danger
There runs the quick perspective of the future.
 
This dwarfs our emerald country by its trek
So tall with prophecy
Dreaming of cities
Where often clouds shall lean their swan-white neck.

The term “useful idiot” is from political science and so associated with Lenin (Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov (1870–1924; first leader of Soviet Russia 1917-1922 & USSR 1922-1924) that it's attributed to him but there's no evidence he ever spoke or wrote the words.  It became popular during the Cold War to describe pro-communist intellectuals and apologists in the West, the (probably retrospective) association with Lenin probably because had the useful idiots actually assisted achieving a communist revolution there, their usefulness outlived, he'd likely have had at least some of them shot as "trouble-makers".  Although it took many Western intellectuals decades to recant (some never quite managed) their support for the Soviet Union, the watershed was probably Comrade Khrushchev's (1894–1971; Soviet leader 1953-1964)  so called "Secret Speech" (On the Cult of Personality and Its Consequences) to the 20th Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union on 25 February 1956 in which he provided a detailed critique of the rule of comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953), especially the bloody purges of the late 1930s.

Some had however already refused to deny what had become obvious to all but avid denialists, and in 1949 a contribution by Spender appeared in The God that Failed, a collection of six essays in which the writers lay bare their sense of betrayal and disillusionment with communism because of the totalitarian state forged by comrade Stalin which was in so many ways just another form of fascism.  Spender was associated with the intellectual wing of left-wing politics during the 1930s and was briefly a member of the Communist Party but his attraction seems to have been motivated mostly by the Soviet Union’s promises of equality and its anti-fascist stance.  He quickly became disillusioned with the Soviet state, unable to reconcile its authoritarianism with his personal beliefs in freedom and individual rights, a critical stance differentiated him from figures like George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950) and Sidney (1859–1947) & Beatrice Webb (1858–1943), the latter couple for some time definitely useful idiots.

The sort of sights which would have inspired Spender’s line “Bare like nude giant girls that have no secret”.

Louis MacNeice, was politically engaged during the 1930s but that was hardly something unusual among writers & intellectuals during that troubled decade.  Among the pylons he seems to have been the most sceptical about the tenets of communism and the nature of comrade Stalin’s state and no historians seem every to have listed him among the useful idiots, his views of the left as critical and nuanced as they were of the right.  What he most objected to was the tendency among idealistic & politically committed intellectuals to engage in a kind of reductionism which allowed them to present simplistic solutions to complex problems in a form which was little more than propaganda, a critique he explored in his poem Autumn Journal (1939) captures his doubts about political certainty and his disillusionment with simplistic solutions to complex problems.  Auden certainly wasn’t a “useful idiot” and while politically engaged and associated with several leftist intellectual circles during the 1930s, his sympathy for Marxism and anti-fascist causes were really not far removed from those share by even some mainstream figures and a capacity for self-reflection never deserted him.  Much was made of the time he spent in Spain during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1940) but he went as an observer and a propagandist rather than a combatant and what he saw made his disillusioned with the ideological rigidity and in-fighting among leftist factions and he made no secret of his distaste for Stalinist communists.  By the early 1940s, he was distancing himself from Marxism, the process much accelerated by his re-embrace of Christianity where, at least debatably, he discharged another form of useful idiocy, his disapproval of collectivist ideologies apparently not extending to the Church of England.

Profiles of some electricity pylons.  There a literally dozens of variations, the designs dictated by factors such as the ground environment, proximity to people, voltage requirements, weight to be carried, economics, expected climatic conditions and a myriad of other specifics.

Of the Pylons, Cecil Day-Lewis (who served as Poet Laureate of the UK 1968-1972) had the most active period engagement with communism and Marxist ideals and he was for a time politically aligned with the Soviet Union; it was a genuine ideological commitment.  During the 1930s, the true nature of the Soviet Union wasn’t generally known (or accepted) in the West and Day-Lewis admired the Soviet Union as an experiment in social and economic equality which he championed and it wasn’t until late in the decade he realized the ideals he had embraced had been betrayed; it was Great Purge and the Moscow Show-Trials which triggered his final disillusionment.  Day-Lewis later acknowledged the naivety and moral compromises of his earlier stance and came to argue poetry and art should not be subordinated to political ideology, a view formed by his understanding of the implications of propagandistic pieces of his younger years being exactly that.