Spider

Spider (pronounced spahy-der)

(1) Any predatory silk-producing arachnid of the order Araneae, having four pairs of legs and a rounded un-segmented body consisting of abdomen and cephalothorax, most of which spin webs that serve as nests and as traps for prey.

(2) In non technical use, any of various other arachnids resembling or suggesting these.

(3) A cast-iron frying pan with three legs or feet once common in open-hearth cookery (now rare and applied more loosely; still used by chefs).

(4) A trivet or tripod, as for supporting a pot or pan on a hearth.

(5) In digital technology. digitally to survey websites, following and cataloging their links in order to index web pages for a search engine.

(6) In engineering, a skeleton or frame with radiating arms or members, often connected by crosspieces, such as a casting forming the hub and spokes to which the rim of a fly wheel or large gear is bolted; the body of a piston head; a frame for strengthening a core or mould for a casting.

(7) In agriculture, an instrument used with a cultivator to pulverize soil.

(8) Any implement, tool or other device which is some (even if vague) was resembles or is suggestive of a spider (sometimes as spider-like or spideresque).

(9) In nautical use, a metal frame fitted at the base of a mast to which halyards are tied when not in use.

(10) A drink made by mixing ice-cream and a soda (a fizzy drink such as lemonade) (mostly Australia & New Zealand).

(11) An alcoholic drink made with brandy and lemonade or ginger beer (mostly Australia & New Zealand and probably extinct although it still appears in some anthologies of cocktails).

(12) In slang, a person spindly in appearance (dated); also a popular nickname for those with the surname Webb.

(13) In slang, a man who persistently approaches or accosts a woman in a public social setting, particularly in a bar (also as bar spider).

(14) In snooker & billiards, a stick with a convex arch-shaped notched head used to support the cue when the cue ball is out of reach at normal extension; a bridge.

(15) In bicycle design, the part of a crank to which the chain-rings are attached.

(16) In drug slang, one of the many terms for heroin (an allusion to the web-like patterns on the arms of addicts into which the needle is poked).

(17) In music, part of a resonator instrument that transmits string vibrations from the bridge to a resonator cone at multiple points.

(18) In fly fishing, a soft-hackle fly (mostly southern England).

(19) In the sport of darts, the network of wires separating the areas of a dartboard.

(20) In mathematics, a type of graph or tree.

(21) In passenger transport, a early type of light phaeton (obsolete) and latterly a descriptor for a roadster (also as spyder).

(22) In photography and film-making, a support for a camera tripod, preventing it from sliding.

1380s: From the Middle English spydyr, spydyr & spither (the forms from mid-century were spiþre, spiþur & spiþer), from the Old English spīþra & spīthra (spider), from the Proto-West Germanic spinþrijō, from the Proto-Germanic spinnaną & spin-thon (“to spin”).  The Old English forms were akin to spinnan (to spin) and cognate with the Danish spinder (literally “spinner”) and the German Spinne and (mostly) displaced attercop (spider, unpleasant person) which was relegated to a dialectal term.  The root of the European form was the primitive Indo-European spen & pen (to draw, stretch, spin) + the formative or agential -thro.  The connection with the root is more transparent in other Germanic cognates such as the Middle Low German, Middle Dutch, Middle High German & German spinne and the Dutch spin (spider).  The loss of -n- before spirants is familiar in Old English (such as goose or tooth).  Spider is a noun, spidery and spideresque are adjectives, spidering is a verb and spidered is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is spiders.

Lindsay Lohan with Spiderman and spideresque offspring, Harper’s Bazaar photo shoot, Los Angeles, 2007.

Despite the ancient lineage, in the Old & Middle English there were more common words used when speaking of arachnids including lobbe (or loppe as Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) would have it), atorcoppe (the Middle English attercop translates literally as “poison-head”), and (from the Latin aranea), renge.  Middle English also had araine (spider) which was picked up, via the Old French from the Latin word with the same spelling and, more poetically, in the Old English there was gangewifre (a weaver as he goes).  In literature, the spider was often a figure of cunning, skill, and industry as well as venomous predation.  In the seventeenth century, the spider figuratively represented venomousness and thread-spinning but also sensitivity to vibrations and the habit of solitary lurking, waiting for prey to fall into the web; quintessentially, the spider was an independent character.  The two-pack game of solitaire (patience) called spider dates from 1890 (still available in software), the choice of name thought owed to the resemblance of the layout of the decks in the original form of the game.  In zoology, the spider crab was first identified in 1710 (an applied to various species) while the spider monkey, so called for its long limbs, dates from is from 1764.  The noun spider-web in the 1640s replaced the more cumbersome spider's web from a century-odd earlier and the adjective spidery (long and thin) was first noted in 1823.

The Exorcist’s “spider walk” scene.

Based on the William Peter Blatty (1928-2017) novel The Exorcist (1971), the film version (1973) was directed by William Friedkin (1935-2023) and that it did not win the Best Picture Academy Award is a mystery explained only by the prejudices held at the time by those members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences who cast ballots for The Sting (1973) a well-made but formulaic piece and hardly the a landmark like The Exorcist.  The “spider walk” scene was long the subject of speculation.  Not included in the original theatrical release, the director for years claimed it had never been shot and it was only when copies of the takes were found in the archives he admitted it had been done but that it couldn’t be used because the technology didn’t at the time exist to edit out the wires attached to a rail above which made the performance possible.  Subsequently, it was revealed the scene had been shot without use of the harness designed for the purpose because it was performed by an experienced stunt double with gymnastic training.  Apparently the director didn’t include it because he thought it appeared too early and disrupted the sequence which is interesting because structurally, The Exorcist is far from perfect.  The spider walk scene was included in the “director’s cut” editions released the next century.

Little Miss Muffet in Hell (left) and with MWC's (Motor Wheel Corporation) Spyder wheel (right).  Because the use by European manufacturers lent the spelling "spyder with a y" a tinge of the exotic, it was used in US commerce, MWC of Lansing Michigan dubbing one of their "jellybean style" wheels thus.  The wheel, produced in the early 1970s, used the then popular technique of combining a styled aluminun center with a chromed steel rim.  MWC's wheels were highly regarded for quality and the Spyder was produced for use with disc or drum brakes.  Note the latter day Little Miss Muffet's strategic positioning of the tip of the tongue. 

The 1550s noun tuffet (little tuft) was from the Old French touffel (the diminutive suffix -et replacing the French -el) which was a diminutive of touffe.  In English the word is obsolete except for the use in the nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet which seems first to have appeared in print in 1805 although it (and variations) may have been circulating much earlier.  Etymologists believe Little Miss Muffet’s tuffet was a grassy hillock or a small knoll in the ground (a variant spelling of an obsolete meaning of tuft).  The latter-day use to refer to a hassock or footstool is an example of how (usually obscure) words can acquire meanings if erroneous definitions are often repeated and come to serve some purpose.  Tuffet for example became a favorite of antique dealers who are apt to call both footstools and low seats “tuffets”, a handy practice perhaps when provenance is doubtful.

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.

Those whose fear of spiders (and other arachnids, such as scorpions and ticks) is so severe as to adversely affect normal life are said to be arachnophobic.  Although one of the most commonly described anxiety disorders, in the current edition (DSM-5-TR) of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), arachnophobia is not a diagnostic category but is classified as a sub-type of Specific Phobia, Animal Type, a clinical diagnosis typically described as “Specific Phobia, Animal Type (spiders)”.  The DSM’s criteria for a specific phobia include (1) marked fear or anxiety about a specific object or situation, (2) immediate fear response on exposure, (3) active avoidance or intense distress, (4) fear disproportionate to the actual danger, (5) persistence (typically 6+ months) and (6) and clinically significant impairment or distress.  So, one who merely is not fond of spiders would not meet the DSM’s criteria; the fear must be severe enough to impair functioning or cause substantial distress over at least six months.  The irony is that as well as most spiders being small, non-venomous and not at all anxious to attack humans, co-existing with them and their webs in most cases will improve quality of life by culling the insect population.  For those not convinced, arachnophobia can be treated by a number of therapies including (1) systematic desensitization (a gradual exposure to the source of the distress), (2) the adoption of “calming techniques” which can lower the distress response and (3) CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy), a structured, goal-oriented form of psychotherapy focusing on identifying and changing negative or dysfunctional thought patterns and behaviours.  The estimates vary but all research indicates well under 10% of the global population suffer arachnophobia to the extent a clinician would diagnose with women being significantly more affected.

Spider Phaeton, circa 1875, US.

There are cars called spider and spyder although, unlike many other natural or engineered creations which in some way resemble arachnids, these cars are almost always small roadsters which in appearance don’t look anything like their eight-legged namesakes.  The origin of the name lies in the horse & buggy era when a spider phaeton was a lightweight horse-drawn carriage intended for short-distance journeys and the design was intended to impress so there was often little protection from the elements beyond perhaps something to shade ladies from the sun.  Unlike some true “convertible” or “cabriolet” carriages, there were no side windows and the spider name was gained from the “spider”, a small single seat or bench for the use of a groom or footman, the name based on the spindly supports which called to mind an arachnid’s legs.  Quite where this style of coachwork was first seen isn’t known but they were certainly in use on both sides of the Atlantic in the 1860s and it’s not impossible the invention was both simultaneous and independent although there are sources which insist it was first seen in the ante-bellum US.  Historians of early transportation note also the similarity of the small seat with the "jump seat" and the later "rumble" or dicky (also as dickie or dickey) seats.

1931 Alfa Romeo 8C 2300 Spider Monza.

As engines (steam, electric and predominately internal combustion) made possible horseless carriages, in the earliest days the body-styles were carried over as were the designations which is why berlinas, cabriolets and phaetons appeared in the catalogues of the early automotive coach-builders.  However, the spider nomenclature seems to have for decades been forgotten, because although the ancillary seats still existed, the terms “dicky”, “rumble” and “jump” came to be preferred, each with its own etymological tale.  The revival of the name had to await the interwar years, Alfa Romeo in 1931 introducing the 8C, powered by 2.3, 2.6 & 2.9 litre stright-8s, the line continuing until 1939.  Many were touring cars but the Spider version was a sports car built for road and track, and 8C 2300 Spiders won the 1931 & 1932 Targa Florio road-race in Sicily and it was victory in the 1931 Italian Grand Prix which the factory honored with the "Monza", the GP car a shortened, lightweight version of the Spider.

1961 Ferrari 250 GT SWB California Spyder, one of the few times the factory preferred Spyder to Spider.

To date, Ferrari's only Spyders have been the 250 GT California (1957–1963), the 365 California (1966) and the 365 GTS/4 (Daytona, 1971–1973).  Other than those, it's been Spiders (or Cabriolets for the 2+2s) all the way but the factory's website seems for all (two seat) purposes to have standardized on Spider and whatever the original designation, the coachwork now is listed as "two seat spider".

Encouraged by the image Alfa-Romeo gained from the illustrious 8C Spiders, a few other cars emerged from Europe in the 1930s but it was in the post-war years the name became really fashionable, the economic boom and the availability of chassis suitable to carry the imagination of carrozzerias meant there was a concurrence of supply and demand for stylish roadsters, many of which carried the magic of the spider name.  Seemingly more glamorous still must have been “Spyder” because it was in the 1950s that roadsters called Spyder began to appear.  Quite why the “y” sometimes was preferred to the “i” has over the years attracted comment and speculation but the reason for the adoption remain obscure.  The idea it was to avoid legal action from Alfa-Romeo was soon discounted because, spider being a historic generic from coach-building (like sedan, limousine, cabriolet etc), it couldn’t be trade-marked or otherwise protected and Alfa-Romeo seems anyway never to have tried.  There was however a quasi-legal status granted to the spelling “spider” because in 1924, the (the apparently now forgotten) Milan-based National Federation of Body makers declared that was how it should be written, the speculation being that Il Duce (Benito Mussolini, 1883-1945; Duce (Leader) & Prime-Minister of Italy 1922-1943) wanted to make everything as Italian as possible and, there being no "y" in the alphabet, spider it was.  Of whether such matters much occupied the fascist mind, there seems no documentation and it does seem dubious; X, Y, W, J not appearing in the Italian alphabet either although many words in the languages include them.

1964 Chevrolet Corvair Monza Spyder Coupe.  Although it looks frumpy compared with the most accomplished re-styling of 1965, the original Corvair (1990-1965) was a modernist take on the US design language of the late 1950s and was restrained compared with some of what came off the drawing boards in the era.

In 1962 Chevrolet chose “Spyder” as the name for the high-performance version of the rear-engined Corvair, introduced in 1960 as a compact car with an emphasis on economy of operation with no pretentions of sportiness (although drivers would soon discover the sometimes quirky handling characteristics could make the things feel rather like certain racing cars).  Adopting the name for the turbocharged Spyder made sense because GM (General Motors) had from the state positioned the Corvair as a more “European” type of car although the irony was it made its debut at a time when across the Atlantic many manufacturers were for their next generation of mass-market machines pondering a switch from RE-RWD (rear engine-rear wheel drive) to FE-FWD (front engine, front wheel drive).  In the way Detroit was rather loose in the handling of nomenclature, the “Spider” package was available for the Monza versions both as a coupe and convertible; notably, it made the Corvair only the second passenger vehicle in series production to have been fitted with a turbo-charger, Oldsmobile F-85 Turbo Jetfire having been released a few months earlier.  The Oldsmobile venture was brief because the early implementation of the technology demanded rather more of drivers than US buyers had become accustomed to giving and anyway, despite the specification (turbocharged, all aluminium, 215 cubic inch (3.5 litre) V8) sounding tempting, on the road it was less than exciting and GM soon abandoned the engine (whether with forced aspiration or not).  The corporation came to regret that decision because the light, compact V8 would have proved a useful augmentation to their ranges in the troubled decades to follow.  As it was, in 1965 it sold the rights and tooling to Rover and the V8 would until 2006 provide stellar service to the UK industry.  Chevrolet in 1965 retired the “Spyder” name from the Corvair and replaced it with “Corsa”.

1965 Chevrolet Corvair Corsa Coupe (left) and 1967 Chevrolet Corvair 500 Sport Sedan (right).  The almost Italianesque lines of the second generation Corvair (1965-1967) were as fine as anything from Detroit in the 1960s but the damage to the car's reputation was done.  The four-door version was notable for being the only compact four-door hardtop the industry produced and uniquely, there was no companion model with a B-pillar. 

As an evocative name for a car, the Latin corsa (from the Ancient Greek κόρση (kórsē) (variously (1) in building, the uprights on the gate of a temple, (2) in anatomy the sides of the forehead (ie the temples) or (3) the hair on the temples)) wasn't encouraging as a noun because it meant “the outer strip in the molding about a door (a girder)”.  However, the Latin adjective corsa could (in the feminine) be used to mean “a Corsican” or “of or relating to Corsica” and that obviously was very European.  To emphasise that, “Corsa” exists in a number of Romance languages including Asturian, Catalan, French, Galician, Italian, Latin, Portuguese & Spanish.  There is nothing to suggest there was in the mid-1960s and market resistance to the name “Spyder”, the switch to “Corsa” made just to create the aura of “newness” at the time so important.  In 1965 that was a quality especially important for the second generation Corvair, the reputation of which (rightly) had suffered after the publication of Ralph Nader’s (b 1934) Unsafe at Any Speed (1965) which was a devastating critique on the safety standards of US-made automobiles, the dubiously implemented swing-axles on the very early Corvairs the emblematic case study.  Ironically, as well as being one of the loveliest designs of the era, the revised Corvair greatly was improved but by them the damage was terminal and the project doomed, the model lingering until 1969 only because GM didn’t wish it thought Nader had claimed a scalp.

Advertising was different in the 1970s.

MWC may not have wanted customers to associate its Spyder with the then recently cancelled Corvair but may have been encouraged by FoMoCo (Ford Motor Company) which as early as 1958 had borrowed the French spelling Galaxie for the top-trim option for its then full-sized Fairlane, the company in 1966 adding the 7 Litre option to the range.  Even then liters were not unknown in US English (especially among scientists and engineers) but they tended not to use the French spelling (although Pontiac used it to emphasize the distinctly "European" flavor of its short-lived (1966-1969) OHC (overhead camshaft) straight-six).  FoMoCo's marketing staff wouldn’t have deluded themselves by imagining use of “litre” would suggest to buyers there was anything remotely “French” about the Galaxie's biggest engine option (by 1966, French cars certainly weren’t built with 7 litre V8 engines) but it avoided a linguistic clash with Galaxie and anyway such things were then anyway part of the zeitgeist of commerce.  Then as now, New York City was no more representative of life in the US than were things south of the Mason-Dixon Line but cars were named for the whole country and just as wild creatures (cougar, mustang, barracuda etc) suited some segments, “Galaxie” in 1958 had been chosen because, post-Sputnik, it was the dawn of the “space age” with rockets and satellites suddenly part of the cultural milieu.  So it was a deliberate exercise in branding and not a linguistic accident, just as litre appealed because more than any other European nation, France was thought redolent with connotations of modernity and sophistication, making "Galaxie 7 Litre" a happy combination.

1971 Ford LTD Convertible with MWC's Spyder wheels.  The proliferation of smaller ranges (the pony cars and intermediates) meant the demise of the "sporty" versions of the full-size lines; among the Fords, the last big block V8 / 4-speed manual transmission combo was built in 1969 and the last LTD convertible would appear in 1972. 

A 1971 LTD is an improbable resting place for a set of MWC Spyders which presumably enjoyed an earlier life on another vehicle or perhaps several, certainly they were never a FoMoCo factory option.  The LTD began in 1965 as just another option for the Galaxie; it was a "luxury package" (ie letting the Galaxie fulfil the role for which in 1939 Mercury had been created).  Although in the 1930s & 1940s there had been various "Deluxe" & "Super Deluxe" Fords, it was when the Edsel venture played out over two and a bit seasons (1958-1960) that the real intra-corporate cannibalization began with Ford in the 1960s increasingly trespassing on what in marketing theory should have been Mercury's fenced-off turf.  Even when Mercury stumbled on its one bona fide hit (the 1967 Cougar), it wasn't long before there was a Ford emulating it and, to add insult to injury, at a lower cost.  Mercury did well to last until 2011 when FoMoCo grasped the excuse of the GFC (global financial crisis, 2008-2012) to shutter the brand.

The alpha-numeric juxtaposition also simplified the administration of the badgework because in 1966 & 1967, FoMoCo actually offered two very different versions of their 7 litre FE V8, the 427 (a famously powerful & robust beast with a stellar reputation on the circuits which was expensive, noisy, prone to being cantankerous and an oil burner) or the 428 (mild-mannered, smooth, quiet, cheap to build and offering prodigious low-speed torque), the choice at the dealership just a tick on the box for those with the cash of credit rating to afford the 427.  The market spoke, the sales breakdown between the 427/428 in 1966/1967 being 11035/38 and 1056/12.  So the 427 was retired from the full-sized line for 1968, a run 350-odd of a curious version with hydraulic valve lifters (intended originally for the Mustang) used in the Mercury Cougar, coupled exclusively to an automatic gearbox; for the 1968 Cougars, Ford decided there were just 427s & 428s and didn't bother with litres or liters.  Strangely, by then, the corporation would have had an excuse to stick with the French because in 1968 FoMoCo had three different 7 litre V8s in the showrooms, the 427 & 428 from the FE family and the 429 from the 385 series.  Fortunately, another 7 litre (the 430 from the MEL family) had been retired in 1966 after being enlarged to 462 cubic inches (7.5 litres).            

1955 Lancia Aurelia B24S Spider.

In Italy, the naming trend really took off in 1954 when Lancia introduced the B24 Aurelia Spider and soon Ferrari and other from Italy would follow although spyders would appear too, (including some from Ferrari & Lancia), and General Motors (GM), noted scavengers of European nomenclature (GTO, Grand Prix etc) shamelessly tacked Spyder onto the doomed Corvair, even for versions with a fixed roof.  North of the Brenner Pass, spyder has found favour, used by Porsche, Audi and BMW while in the Far-East, companies like Toyota and Mitsubishi, arch-imitators in style and perfectionists in execution have rolled out their own spyders.  Alfa-Romeo and Fiat however have stuck to spider, Lancia and Ferrari too seeming to have forsaken their youthful indiscretions and only using the original.

1967 Alfa Romeo 1600 Spider Duetto.

Although in continuous production between 1966-1993, it was only during the first three years the bodywork featured the memorable Osso di Seppia (Round-tail, literally "cuttle fish") coachwork.  After 1970, the Spider gained a Kamm-tail which increased luggage capacity and apparently also conferred some aerodynamic advantage but purists have always coveted the cigar-shaped original, despite it violating a few rules in the design handbook.  The Duetto name was the winning entry in a competition Alfa Romeo in 1965 conducted and in those days that meant running advertisements in newspapers (which people actually paid for and read) to which readers responded by cutting out and filling in the coupon, writing in their suggestion, putting it in an envelope on which they wrote the address, buying and affixing a stamp and putting envelope in mailbox.  Then, entering a competition took effort and commitment.  The company's directors liked "Duetto" because it summed up the romantic essence of a machine definitely built for a couple but unfortunately, for some legal reason relating to an existing trademark, it couldn't officially be used but for decades, among the cognoscenti,  the little roadsters have always been called Duettos.  To keep the tiresome lawyers at bay, when released at the Geneva Motor Show in March 1966, the car was released as the Spider 1600.

1980 (left) and 1978 (right) Lancia Beta Zagato Spiders.

Whatever its dynamic qualities, the Lancia Beta (1972–1984) tends to be remembered only for its extraordinary predilection for rusting, vying with the early Alfa Romeo Alfasuds (1971-1989) for the title of “most susceptible”.  The coupé (1973-1984) and shooting brake (1975-1984 and named HPE (High-performance Estate)) appear less affected by body-rot but the tainted reputation has meant these models have never attained the desirability of earlier Lancias like the exquisite Fulvia (1963-1976).  Tellingly, although convertibles tend in the collector market to attract a premium, not even the Beta Zagato Spider enjoys much of a following despite almost 10,000 having been produced in an era when new convertibles were becoming a rarity.  The Zagato Spider was more of a targa than a true convertible but was a clever design with both a removable targa-top atop the front seats and a folding rear-section, al la the early Porsche “soft window” Targas of the late 1960s.  The coach-building and design house Zagato has operated in Italy since 1919 and although there have been some nice creations, the operation has often been associated with the angular and the quirky, some designs simply weird.  Despite that, more than a century on, Zagato remains while others responsible for many sensuous shapes have come and gone. 

Robert the Bruce, colored engraving by an unknown artist (1797).

Robert I (Robert the Bruce, 1274–1329; King of Scots 1306-1329) was crowned King of Scots in 1306 and led Scotland to victory in the First War of Scottish Independence against the English.  Earlier though, he’d had his defeats and his spirits were said to be at a low ebb when after one disastrous battle, he was forced to take refuge in a cave.  Sitting in the cold, dark space, he noticed a small spider attempting to weave a web and time and time again, the little creature failed.  However, each time the spider fell, it climbed back up to try again until finally, the silk took hold and the web was spun.  From this, Robert was inspired to return to the fight and was victorious in the Battle of Bannockburn (1314), a triumph which turned the tide of the war and ultimately, in 1328. the independence of Scotland was won.

Bruce and the spider, by Bernard Barton (1784-1849)

FOR Scotland's and for freedom's right
The Bruce his part has played;--
In five successive fields of fight
Been conquered and dismayed:
Once more against the English host
His band he led, and once more lost
The meed for which he fought;
And now from battle, faint and worn,
The homeless fugitive, forlorn,
A hut's lone shelter sought.
 
And cheerless was that resting-place
For him who claimed a throne;--
His canopy, devoid of grace,
The rude, rough beams alone;
The heather couch his only bed--
Yet well I ween had slumber fled
From couch of eider down!
Through darksome night till dawn of day,
Absorbed in wakeful thought he lay
Of Scotland and her crown.
 
The sun rose brightly, and its gleam
Fell on that hapless bed,
And tinged with light each shapeless beam
Which roofed the lowly shed;
When, looking up with wistful eye,
The Bruce beheld a spider try
His filmy thread to fling
From beam to beam of that rude cot--
And well the insect's toilsome lot
Taught Scotland's future king.
 
Six times the gossamery thread
The wary spider threw;--
In vain the filmy line was sped,
For powerless or untrue
Each aim appeared, and back recoiled
The patient insect, six times foiled,
And yet unconquered still;
And soon the Bruce, with eager eye,
Saw him prepare once more to try
His courage, strength, and skill.
One effort more, his seventh and last!--
The hero hailed the sign!--
And on the wished-for beam hung fast
That slender silken line!
Slight as it was, his spirit caught
The more than omen; for his thought
The lesson well could trace,
Which even "he who runs may read,"
That Perseverance gains its meed,
And Patience wins the race.

Knob

Knob (pronounced nob)

(1) A projecting part, usually rounded, forming the handle of a door, drawer window-frame or the like.

(2) A (usually) ball-shaped part of a handle, lever etc, designed to be grasped by the hand.

(3) In machinery, an almost always rounded control switch that can be rotated on it axis (ie to turn on/off, raise/lower volume etc), designed to be operated by the fingers and visually also emulated in software on screens.

(4) A rounded lump or protuberance on the surface or at the end of something, as a knot on a tree trunk or a fleshy lump or caruncle.

(5) A rounded ornament on the hilt of an edged weapon (the pommel).

(6) In architecture, furniture design etc, an ornamental boss, as of carved work.

(7) In geography, a rounded hill, mountain, a knoll, an elevation on a ridge or morainic ridge.

(8) In botany, a bulb of the garlic plant consisting of multiple cloves in a chunky branch,

(9) In certain military and other institutions, a new recruit.

(10) In hunting & animal husbandry (as knobber), a hart in its second year; a young male deer.

(11) In cooking, a dollop, an amount just larger than a spoonful (used usually in reference to butter and in professional catering there are “butter curlers” which produce an attractive ribbed-curl of butter to be served with the bread-rolls, each curl said to be the equivalent of a “half dollop”.

(12) In slang, the head, thus a person with red hair being a “gainer knob”.

(13) In vulgar slang the head (glans (spongiosum)) of the penis but sometimes used of the whole organ, thus the slang “knobhead” (an unintelligent or contemptible person) and a “literal” synonym of “dickhead”), sometimes used in the forms “knobber” & “knobber”.

(14) In vulgar slang (by extension), to have sexual intercourse with (someone).

(15) In vulgar slang (usually in the plural), a woman's breasts (sometimes with a modifier thought appropriate to the anatomy specifically being referenced).

(16) In vulgar slang, the clitoris.

(17) To produce a knob on (an object).

(18) To furnish with a knob, typically for a functional purpose (adding one to a door, window frame etc) but also as an ornament.

(19) To turn an object into a knob (rare).

(20) In stone cutting, to knock off (excess stone) preparatory to dressing; to knobble; to skiffle.

1350–1400: From the Middle English knobe & knobbe, thought almost certainly from a Scandinavian or German source and probably at least influenced by the Middle Low German knubbe & knobbe (knob; knot in wood; bud), the Middle Dutch knobbe & cnoppe, the Dutch knop (knob, button, bud), the Old Frisian knopp & knapp, the Old High German knopf (bud, pommel of a sword, knot, loop), the Middle High German knospe, the German Knopf (button, knob) & Knospe (bud), the Danish knap (button) & knop (knob, button, bud) and the Old Norse knyfill (short horn).  Most etymologists seem most convinced by it being a variant of the Proto-Germanic knappô (knob, lump) & knuppô (lump, clod), both among the “kn-” words related to knudaną (to knead).  Probably related were the Middle English knap & knappe (small projection, knob (in the sense of “button, tassel, tuft etc”), hill, hilltop etc)), from the Old English cnæp & cnæpp (summit, top), which may in some way be linked with the Old Norse knappr (small projection, knob (in the sense of “button, head of a stick etc”)) (and from which English gained knop), the source again the Proto-Germanic knappô.  The meaning “knoll, isolated round hill” seems first to have appeared in the 1640s and, perhaps surprisingly, no instance of “doorknob” has been found prior to 1829 although the word may have been long in oral use (drawer-knob, window-knob etc all followed).  Knob is a noun & verb, knobless is a noun, knobbed & knobbing are verbs, knoblike & knobby are adjectives; the noun plural is knobs.

Yorkeys Knob, Cairns, Queensland, Australia.

In idiomatic use, the phrase “same to you with knobs (sometimes “brass knobs”) means “the same to you but even more so” (used typically in response to an insult or slight).  A “knob-twiddler” can be an informal term for a technician or console operator whose job entails adjusting electronic devices via knobs but it can also describe anyone whose role seems either unimportant or not particularly demanding.  As machinery and later electronics became an increasingly ubiquitous part of life, so did knobs and as early as the late nineteenth century the humorous “knobologist” had been coined to describe both those designing the system and the “knob-twiddlers” using them; the discipline of design was of course dubbed “knobology” and that remains a core component of ergonomics, exploring imperatives such as placement, size, tactility and labelling, all of which influence the functionality of controls on an instrument as relevant to their application.  The knobologists deeply were implicated in convenient physical switches, knobs and buttons disappearing from cars and re-imagined virtualizations on inconvenient touch-screens.  Such has been the reaction (including the realization the change made driving more accident prone) that the tactile controls are making a welcome comeback.  The now archaic “knob-thatcher” was an affectionate term for a maker of wigs while the more modern “surfer's knob” was slang from the sport, describing a hard bump or nodule on a surfer's knee, shin or ankle, resulting from recurrent contact with their surfboard.  In engineering and metallurgy, “to knobble” was (1) to render a surface with a knobbly finish and (2) to produce wrought iron by treating semi-refined puddled iron on a hearth before shingling, a specialized device in the business being the ominous sounding “knobbling furnace”.

Gay men supporting lesbians at the first “Dyke March”, Washington DC, April 1993.  The sign held by the protester at the far left uses the compound word for which the euphemisms “knob polisher” & “knob-gobbler” were coined.

Because knob was popular slang for penis, a number of derived terms predictably emerged.  A “knob polisher” or “knob-gobbler” was “one who gives fellatio”.  “Knob rot” was a reference to certain sexually transmitted diseases contracted by men, the acute condition “galloping knob rot” describing a rapidly progressing or uncontrollable variant of the condition.  A “knob job” was the act of fellatio.  “Knob cheese” (the terms “cock cheese”, “dick cheese” and (in context) even “cheese”) was vulgar slang for smegma (a whitish sebaceous secretion that collects between the glans penis and foreskin or in the vulva).  “Knob jockey” must however be used with care because it has variously been applied to (1) gay men, (2) promiscuous straight women and (3) promiscuous straight men; context thus matters.

Interior of Porsche 917K with cool (in both senses of the word) balsa wood shift knob.  The obviously "fake" passenger bucket seat was installed to comply with the rules in sports car racing.

To this day, the myth persists the balsa wood gear-shift knob used in the Porsche 917 was there as a “weight-saving measure”.  While it’s true the small knob was light, the difference between it and the aluminum or magnesium units the company had fitted to earlier race cars would have been so insignificant it’s doubtful it would have equalled a gulp of coffee the driver may or may not have enjoyed.  The stylish timber piece was however not a decorative flourish but a legitimate engineering solution to ameliorate one manifestation of “chronic heat soak”.  In 1969, the 917 was a radical advance which, Dreadnought-like, rendered all other cars in its class instantly obsolescent but the flat-12 engine (Porsche’s first in the configuration) radiated so much heat it was difficult to manage.  In a tradition it would not for decades abandon, Porsche continued to use air-cooling for the engine (which really means “oil cooled” about as much) and it ran hot; between that heat source and the gear level was a unbroken metal path, each component a most efficient conductor.  During endurance racing (some events conducted over 24 hours), cockpit temperatures could reach what doctors would rate as “extreme”.

Close-up of balsa wood gear-shift knob in Porsche 917K.

The metal lever was just one of the sources of this heat and the knob (which sat next to the driver’s knee) needed to be grasped by the driver, often many times a minute; were it to become so hot it caused pain, it would have been safety issue.  Although in 1969 the space-age was at its zenith, the materials which could have made a driver’s gloves close to heat-proof were not then commercially available so they gained much of their protective quality from thickness but the problem was they could be only so thick because a driver needed still to handle a highly-geared steering wheel and operate the many knobs and switches within arm’s reach.  Balsa wood, with its very low thermal conductivity was ideal because while not exactly cool to the touch after a few hours on the track, it never got so hot it felt unpleasant.  It also had adequate strength for its task; a gear-lever knob does not bear structural loads and, being Porsche, it received the same careful attention as every other component, each one precisely machined to exact dimensions before receiving two coats of clear lacquer.  Most variants of the 917 used the balsa wood part although when (as the “Turbo-panzers”) the most powerful of the breed appeared in the Can-Am (for Group 7, unlimited displacement sports cars) a metal knob was fitted, made possible because Group 7 was for open cars and significantly that reduced cabin temperatures.  By the late 1970s when the space age had made available materials (phenolic plastics, composites etc) with superior insulation qualities, the need to resort to a balsa wood knob vanished but the visual appeal remained and in the aftermarket, 917-style knobs remain widely available.

1959 Ford Fairlane Galaxie 500 Sunliner with suicide knob (on steering wheel at 10 o'clock).

“Suicide knob” was the most popular name for the device attached to a vehicle’s steering wheel which facilitated easier “single arm steering”.  The idea dated from the days before the almost universal fitting of power-steering and the things became popular in the US in the US in the 1950s and 1960s as even low-priced cars became heavier; for some drivers, they were invaluable when manoeuvring at low speed, especially when reversing.  They were known also as the “necker knob”, “wheel spinner” and “granny knob” but the most correct term was “Brodie Knob”, the name in honor of Steve Brodie (1861–1901), an apparently rather raffish gentleman from New York City who, as a last resort in 1886 after losing everything gambling, staged a stunt in which he jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge (site of a good many suicides), the lure a sum of money he was bet although the details of that are murky.  Mr Brodie anyway survived to collect on the wager and, on the basis of the notoriety gained, began performing other dare-devil acts for even more money.  So the jump from the Brooklyn Bridge was a good career move although the consensus now is it was a cunning stunt (ie a scam), a weighted dummy the real diver with Mr Brodie entering the water from the safety of the shoreline.  In fairness, at least some of his subsequent dangerous stunts were verified by observation and he parlayed his fame into a successful career in business, becoming a noted philanthropist and dying a rich man.

The invention of the suicide knob generally is credited to Joel Thorp of Wisconsin but similar devices had for centuries been in use on land and water.  What Mr Thorpe described in the supporting documents for what was issued as US Patent 2,101,519 STEERING WHEEL SPINNER KNOB (Dec 7, 1937) was an “improvement” of the concept:

“The present invention relates generally to improvements in appliances for facilitating manipulation of the steering wheels of vehicles, and relates more specifically to improvements in the construction and operation of spinner knob attachments co-operable with the peripheral rims of steering wheels or the like in order to effect more convenient and rapid operation of such wheels under certain conditions of use.  Generally defined, an object of my present invention is to provide an improved steering wheel spinner knob which is simple in construction and highly efficient in use.”

A young lady wrapping practiced fingers around the timber shift knob in 1970 Maserati Indy (Tipo 116, 1969-1975).  In the era, it was fashionable in Italian exotica for the knob and steering wheel rim to match (ie in leather or wood).

Although widely used on tractors, heavy transport vehicles and such, it was in the 1950s as cars in the US became heavier the suicide knobs gained popularity and some of that was due to reasons Mr Thorp probably never envisaged.  One receptive market was males aged 17-25 (a crew infamous for many reasons) who found the combination of suicide knob and bench seat made an idea ecosystem, enabling one hand to be used steer the vehicle while the "free" arm could wrap around the girlfriend (or alternative) who affectionately was resting her head on the driver’s shoulder.  In this arrangement, a driver’s attention more easily could be divided between her and the road.  It was also males aged 17-25 who were the core of the hot-rod community which began as a West Coast phenomenon (induced by a critical mass of the right demographic, available disposable income and a good supply of cheap, used cars which easily could be modified as desired) and they found suicide knobs the best way to “do a half donut” (a spin of one’s hot rod through 180^o), the trick being to grip the knob and then suddenly turn the wheel while applying full throttle, resulting in a loud, spectacular maneuver, made the more pleasing for the driver by him having “left his mark” in strips of runner on the road.  This, the hot rodders called “spinning a brodie”, a variant on the earlier “doing a Brodie” (a dangerous or otherwise inadvisable act) which entered the language after the nation-wide publicity which followed Mr Brodie’s alleged leap from the Brooklyn Bridge.  In the era, a Brodie Knob was as essential a piece of equipment as one’s packet of unfiltered Camel cigarettes or pair of fluffy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror.

1962 Maserati 3500 GTi.  Some Maserati 3500 GTs (Tipo 101, 1957-1964) had the unusual feature of having front and rear quarter-vents fitted to the same door; they were opened and closed using knurled, stainless steel knobs.

The dark appellation “suicide knob” was bestowed because (1) the devices came to be associated with accident-prone drivers (the “males aged 17-25” cohort prominent in the statistics) who probably did use the things to engage in “risk-taking” and (2) by virtue of their location (by default affixed to the upper quadrant) on the wheel, they were a genuine danger in accidents and, in an era of non-collapsible steering columns, tales of them penetrating the eye socket, causing irreparable loss of vision and traumatic brain injury, were legion.  The crusading US lawyer Ralph Nader (b 1934) is criticized for much but the contribution his book Unsafe at Any Speed (1965) made to reducing the death toll on the roads cannot be under-estimated and the effect was world-wide because the rest the industry eventually followed the lead of the US legislation which came in the book’s wake.  In the US and elsewhere, change was of course resisted but it came and while it’s not possible to estimate how many deaths and often gruesome injuries the reforms prevented, no one denies it’s a big number.  The suicide knob was one minor casualty of the movement and in road-registered vehicles, in most jurisdictions (although some US states remain permissive), such devices are permitted only for specialized (often low-speed) vehicles and if used by drivers with some disability which precludes the use of conventional controls.

A Hurst Jaws of Life used between 1977-2012 by the fire department in Carlsbad, New Mexico, now on display at the National Museum of American History.

Another to make a life-saving contribution to reducing the road toll was George Hurst (1927-1986; founder of his eponymous company) whose great legacy to humanity was the “Jaws of Life”, a hydraulic cutter he first developed in 1961 after being shocked at how long it sometimes took to extract the driver from the crumpled wreck of a race car.  The great advantage of the “Jaws of Life” was that it worked like a very powerful pair of scissors, avoiding the showers of sparks produced by mechanical saws, always a risk to use in areas where fuel is likely to have been spilled.  The basic design came to be used in hydraulic rescue devices worldwide and quite how many lives have been saved by virtue of its use isn’t known but again, it would be a big number.

Two decades of progress: Shifter for the two-speed Powerglide automatic transmission in 1953 Chevrolet Corvette (left) and a classic spherical shift knob in 1972 Chevrolet Corvette LT1.  The delicate-looking shifter in the 1953 Corvette seems modest but the location was a world-first for an automatic and was efficient because the location (between the driver’s seat and transmission tunnel) provided the shortest possible path to the linkage.  As late as 1964, Chrysler used a similar apparatus in the 1964 300K.

However, before the Jaws of Life, Hurst was already famous in the vibrant sub-culture which was at the times also known for its propensity to purchase and install suicide knobs.  Hurst produced “shifters” which were the assemblies connected to a transmission, used by the driver to “change gears” and they proved instantly popular which may seem strange given every manufacturer at the time included a shifter with every vehicle.  However, beginning in the late 1930s, the US manufacturers had begun moving from centrally located, floor-mounted levers to units on the steering column because it made for better packaging efficiency in the cabins, then optimized for bench-seats with three-astride seating.  That move achieved the goal but with the linkage between lever and gear-changing mechanism now longer and making more turns, some precision in the shifting was lost and column shifting (the once almost universal “three on the tree”) was less conducive to an enthusiastic driving style (such as that of the “suicide knob equipped” crowd).  It was in the 1950s the taste for floor-shifts like those in European sports cars began to gain critical mass and even though the 1953 Chevrolet Corvette was hardly a sports car in the tradition of MGs, Fiats and such, it’s notable Chevrolet from the start installed a floor shift for the (two-speed!) Powerglide automatic transmission; it may not have been a sports car with a “four-on-the-floor” but it had a floor-shift so there was that.  Automatic transmissions in mass-produced cars was then something of a novelty barely a decade old and the Corvette’s floor shift was apparently a world-first.

A butter curler producing curls.  Generally, the curlers come in large and small, respectively producing a curl notionally equivalent to a dollop or a knob (half-dollop).  In the kitchen however, knobs and dollops are what the chef decides they are.

Four-speed manual transmissions began to appear in Detroit-made cars in the late 1950s and within half a decade George Hurst’s shifters were close to obligatory for any racer (authorized or not) seeking “street cred” and it wasn’t a confected image, the Hurst shifters demonstratively superior without being excessively expensive.  So stellar did their reputation become even GM (General Motors) relaxed their long-standing ban on other brand-names being associated with their products and made a feature of one being standard equipment of the 1964 Pontiac GTO, the car credited with being “the first muscle car” and such was the success in 1965 the shifter’s handle was even permitted to be embossed: HURST.  Soon, other manufacturers actively were seeking co-productions.  George Hurst’s path to market domination was shockingly simple and might have come from a textbook: (1) a perfected design, (2) skilful engineering in development, (3) high quality in production and (4) an attractive price, a combination of elements with great appeal for buyers and manufacturers alike.

Hurst’s dual-gate automatic transmission “His and Hers” shifter with conventional apparatus “for the automatic minded little lady” and a performance-oriented configuration offering manual control for the “man who really wanted a 4-speed standard stick but bought this extra just for her.”  Note the unfamiliar shift pattern, the now universal PRNDL not an industry standard until 1965, the year before it was demanded by regulations.  From the early days of automatic transmissions in the 1940s, reverse had been directly adjacent to Low, allowing drivers more easily to emulate what was done with manual transmissions when a “rocking” was being induced to try to free a vehicle from mud or snow.  It was a quirk of the age and, because reliability was not then what decades later came to be expected, the early transmissions included a second (rear) fluid pump to permit push/tow/hill starts.  Probably, not many much dwelt on the shape of the knob Hurst put atop the His and Hers” shifter but in geometry it would be described as an oblate spheroid with two parallel planar truncations.  Now easily modelled in software rendered with a 3D printer, perfecting a shape like this for production used to absorb much time on the drawing board and in the creation of prototypes.  A spheroid is an ellipsoid generated by rotating an ellipse about one of its principal axes which, if “stretched” along one axis becomes a prolate spheroid (ie elongated and something like a rugby ball).  If slightly flattened along the axis of rotation, it’s an oblate spheroid (like planet Earth which isn’t quite a pure sphere) but the His & Hers knob, having a slight elongation along the shifter’s axis, is closest to a prolate spheroid.  The planar-truncation (ie sliced by two parallel planes) created the (left & right) flat faces and the knob can thus be described as a “truncated ellipsoid” or “truncated prolate spheroid” but anyone wishing to out-nerd the rest would probably coin something like “biaxial ellipsoid with parallel planar truncations”.

It was early in the era of second-wave feminism (1960s-1980s) that George Hurst made his brief foray into marriage guidance counselling.  First-wave feminism (1895-1950s) is sometimes called the “de jure” or “structural” period because the focus was on legal issues such as women's suffrage, property rights and political candidacy but, in the West, an early victory was overcoming any opposition to women being granted driver’s licences.  Attitudes however evolved not wholly in parallel with legal rights and even today, among some, the view persists it’s men who are focused on performance and speed while women value vehicles using other criteria.  Impressionistically, that stereotype is not wholly without foundation but, since second wave feminism reset the rules, it’s no longer possible to run advertising perpetuating the notion.  The “His and Hers” shifter worked with a key-lock which enabled the husband to ensure only he could use the “manual override” feature and the idea in recent decades has been revived although this time the target of the lockout includes one’s (presumably male) children and any concierge or attendant who might be entrusted with parking one’s car.

Advertisement for Hurst's "custom knobs" (left) and the famous Hurst "pistol grip shifter" in 1970 Plymouth 'Cuda 440+6 (ie 3 x 2bbl carburetors) (right).

The magic of Hurst’s shifters was in the mechanism but, just as for computer users the mouse and keyboard assume great importance because it’s by touching these relatively simple pieces of hardware that use can be made of the machine’s more sophisticated internals, it was the shifter’s knob which was a driver’s most intimate connection with the transmission.  Although in the art deco era there had been some lovely detailing, it wasn’t until the 1960s most conceptually moved beyond beyond “variations on a theme of sphere” and Hurst was among the manufacturers to explore shapes and substances.  There were “T-Handles” (which, usually as "T-Bars", were for decades popular around the world for automatics) and “Horseshoes” which attracted admiring glances but didn’t catch on and any number of novelty items including billiard balls (the “8 ball” predictably a favourite of the V8 crowd) and scale models of this and that including human body parts such as the skull and mammary gland.  Knobs could be of plastic, wood or various metals and came in designer colors, velvet coatings a nice touch of the 1960s.  The most fetishized of the muscle car era however was Hurst’s “Pistol Grip Shifter” which did what it said on the tin: it gave the user the feeling of holding a handgun.  In the 1960s, gun culture in the US hadn’t yet become what it is today (as now defined, the first “mass-shooting” didn’t happen until 1966) but it was still a place with a lot of firearms.  However, despite the potential implications, when in 1970 Chrysler made one standard equipment on the 1970 Plymouth ‘Cuda, one brochure made mention of the device only with the bland: “...a convenient pistol grip”.  For a corporation which called the Cuda’s hood scoop the I.Q.E.C.A.G. (Incredible Quivering Exposed Cold Air Grabber), it seemed a missed opportunity though it didn’t have much linguistic luck with I.Q.E.C.A.G., customers and everybody else deciding it was a “shaker”.

Ginger knob Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap, approaching 23 Egerton Terrace (tagged 7 for the film), Knightsbridge, SW3, London (the front door with a knob, left) and standing next to a door with a handle (right), from a photo-shoot by Rebecca Lader.

Architecturally, the choice between specifying door levers or door knobs is often one of mere preference or aesthetic conformity but for public or commercial buildings, some regulatory authorities now mandate the use of levers because typically they are easier to use for those with disabilities (especially if hand-mobility is limited) as they demand less dexterity.  Additionally, being circular and often highly polished, knobs can be hard to use with wet hands so that’s a consideration in kitchens, bathrooms and such; nor do young children find them as convenient as a handle.  So, all that would seem to make a compelling case for the handle but for domestic use, there’s one quirky consideration some may wish to include when making the choice.  While there are verified cases of cats and dogs learning to open doors using a handle, no pet has yet been observed mastering the turning of a door knob; while a rare problem, the chance of one’s cat or dog opening door using a lever is not zero and, because houses tend to use the same style of lever throughout, once they have learned to open one door, they’ve really learned to open all.  If it’s a concern, the good news is most doors are adaptable for either so replacing a lever with a knob does not usually require the door being replaced.