Breakdown

Breakdown (pronounced breyk-doun)

(1) Of machines, a breaking down, wearing out, or sudden loss of ability to function efficiently; something, typically a vehicle or other machine that has experienced mechanical failure.

(2) In political science (of societies), economic collapse, societal fracturing etc.

(3) In mental or physical health, a form of collapse (figurative & literal), associated typically (1) with a sudden worsening of physical health (although that may be the culmination of long-existing issues) or (more commonly) mental stability, resulting in an inability to carry on normal activities; an instance of these manifestations.

(4) In relationships (personal or institutional), a fracturing of previous feelings or arrangements between parties; a failure of or within a relationship; often as a prelude to a “break-up”; a failure or loss of organization in a system.

(5) An analysis or classification of something; division into parts, categories, processes etc; a separation of a thing into components; decomposition, fragmentation.

(6) The detailed categorization, itemization or listing of the components of a thing (usually in printed or digital form).

(7) In biology & chemistry, the natural process of decomposition; specifically in chemistry, the breaking of chemical bonds within a compound to produce simpler compounds or elements; an instance of this.

(8) In physics, the sudden (sometimes damaging) transition of an electrical insulator to a conductor when subjected to a sufficiently strong voltage, caused by the partial or complete ionization of the insulator; an instance of this; also, the minimum voltage at which this occurs.  The classic example is an electric discharge passing through faulty insulation or other material used to separate circuits or passing between electrodes in a vacuum or gas-filled tube.

(9) In bodybuilding, gym routines etc, the “drop set” (a weight training technique).

(10) In veterinary use (equine medicine), injury to a horse's leg causing lameness; an instance of this.

(11) In rugby union, the short period of open play immediately after a tackle and before and during the ensuing ruck (and, to some extent, the maul). 

(12) In film, television (and such) production, a detailed description of a forthcoming project or screenplay which identifies all the required elements, such as the cast, costumes, equipment, props, special effects etc (separate from financing aspects likely also to involve multiple breakdowns, often on spreadsheets).

(13) In forestry, an act of splitting logs of wood using a large saw in a sawmill; the saw used or (rarely) the building in which the process is carried out (use of the term uncommon outside New Zealand.

(14) In music, a part of a piece of a composition that differs from other parts in that it features improvisation or is stripped down (played using fewer instruments or performed by a soloist).

(15) In music, a synonym of “percussion break” (a percussion-focused segment of a song, interpolated through cutting, mixing, and other techniques in order to create “rhythmic music”).

(16) In music, (especially the ominous-sounding sub-genres metalcore, grindcore, & deathcore (the distinction best explained by experts)), a section of a song, characterized by a lower tempo, greater “heaviness” and intensity of sound.

(17) In music, a loud, lively dance from folk traditions, historically conducted usually in a rural setting, most prevalent in the US, south of the Mason-Dixon Line; the terms  “hoedown” & “shindig” are related; a piece of music played for such an event, historically especially the rapid bluegrass tunes featuring the five-string banjo.

1832: The construct was break + down.  Break was From the Middle English breken, from the Old English brecan (to divide solid matter violently into parts or fragments; to injure, violate (a promise, undertaking etc.), destroy, curtail; to break into, rush into; to burst forth, spring out; to subdue, tame (the past tense of bræc & past participle of brocen), from the Proto-West Germanic brekan, from the Proto-Germanic brekanan (source also of the Old Frisian breka, the Dutch breken, the Old High German brehhan, the German brechen and the Gothic brikan), from the primitive Indo-European root bhreg- (to break).  There evolved strong linguistic links with brick, brake & breach.  The thirteen century past tense “brake” became archaic but the past participle “broken” endured, the shortened form “broke” in use by at least the mid 1300s and said by the OED (Oxford English Dictionary) to be “exceedingly common” during the eighteenth & nineteenth centuries.  The alternative form is the hyphenated break-down and in scientific use the two spellings can be applied for different purposes.  Breakdown is a noun; the noun plural is breakdowns.

Poster for Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1989).

The early nineteenth century use was in the sense of “a collapse, a falling apart”, and was of machinery or mechanical processes; the use in metal health (as “nervous breakdown”) documented in the medical literature since 1866 but clinical or oral use may have a longer history.  As a transitive verb, the phrase “break down” was in use by at least the late fourteenth century (in the sense “take down by breaking” while as an intransitive verb (“come down by breaking”), use seems to have emerged in the late 1820s.  As early as 1856 the use is attested in the sense of “to fail through incapacity, excess emotion etc” and this presumably influence the adoption a decade later in the context of discussing mental health (it was in the mid nineteenth century something recognizable as “psychiatry” (in the modern understanding) began to evolve.  The noun (specifically of machinery) was in use by at least 1838 while the meaning “an analysis in detail” emerged in US management jargon in the mid 1930s, based on the notion of “breaking a process into its component parts to permit better analysis of both the pieces and the whole” (an extension of the verbal phrase in use earlier in the decade in the sense of “analyze, classify”.  The American folk dance tradition of “a noisy, lively dance sometimes accompanied by singing” was documented by 1864 but historians suggest the musical form dated back decades and was recorded in writing only when witnesses from the North were documenting conditions in the South towards the end of the US Civil War (1861-1865).  Breakdown became a common element in formation (breakdown crane, breakdown lane, breakdown lorry, breakdown truck, breakdown point, breakdown voltage, climate breakdown, electrical breakdown, mental breakdown, nervous breakdown, organizational breakdown, structural breakdown, supply-chain breakdown etc.

World Rugby's Laws of Rugby Union (2026 edition).  Although the word “breakdown” is not used, the rules (14, 15 & 16) regulating the well-known concept are detailed on pages 68-80.

Because just about any object could be broken, “break” widely was adapted, even serving (of paper & fabric) a la the later senses of “cut”, “tear” or “divide” although in Old English the sense of a broken bone was always “brecan”.  The intransitive sense of “be or become separated into fragments or parts under action of some force” dates from the late twelfth century, extending within decades to “make a first and partial disclosure” while the idea of “lessen, impair” was current by the late 1400s.  The sense of in some way to “destroy continuity or completeness” was from at least the 1740s while in 1882 the phrase “to break” is recorded in reference to physical currency (ie convert large denomination banknotes or coins into smaller units of the same total value).  Although in principle rugby union remains a simple game (once with a four-page rule book), under the auspices of the wise men of the IRB (International Rugby Board, 1886-2014) and later the equally diligent men & women of World Rugby (since 2014), the core rule book is now a hefty 100-odd pages so while it remains simple (relatively speaking; it’s a game of “shapes” rather than “angles”) to play, it’s quite a challenge for referees and as an example, during a breakdown, one referee might find a half-dozen transgressions to penalize while another would “allow the game to flow”, the latter approach preferred by most spectators.  In those hundred pages, the word “breakdown” doesn’t appear but that aspect of the game is covered by rules 14 (Tackle), 15 (Ruck) & 16 (Maul).

The figurative sense of “breaking someone’s heart” (although in modern medicine it’s now acknowledged people can “die from (figuratively) broken heart”) was in use by the late 1300s and other such adaptations included “break bread together” (share food) (late 1300s); “break ground" (to dig or plough land for agricultural purposes) (1670s and by 1710 that literal use was extended figuratively to mean “begin to execute a plan”)."  To break the ice as to “overcome the feeling of restraint in a new acquaintanceship” and was from the late 1500s, the reference being to the “coldness" of encounters of strangers.  The familiar break wind (the sanitized form of “a fart”) was documented in the 1550s but, farts being more ancient, use could have predated that.  The also familiar “to break (something) out” could come from anywhere but was recorded in the 1890s as dock-worker’s slang describing freeing cargo prior to unloading.  The ironic theatrical good luck incantation “break a leg” was definitely in use early in the twentieth century and similar forms exist also in Italian & German.  According to some sources, in the seventeenth century it was used euphemistically (of a woman) to convey “to have a bastard child.”

Cup of char.  Under the Raj, the ritual of the "tea break" in the Indian Civil Service became codified (time span; size of cup according to the official's grade of employment).

The thirteenth century noun use (act of breaking, forcible disruption or separation) came from the verb but apparently not until the late 1500s was it customary to speak of “daybreak” or “break of day” but that notion was by the 1720s in use with the meaning “a sudden, marked transition from one course, place, or state to another”.  The first meal of the day (ie when one “breaks one’s overnight fasting)” was by the mid fifteenth century routinely called “breakfast”.  The sense of a “short interval between spells of work” began in schools in the 1860s and the concept came widely to be applied (sport, employment etc) and was sometimes codified in rigid forms (by the Indian Civil Service’s “tea break” in 1911 and the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) in broadcasting in 1940).  The meaning “stroke of luck” (widely used: “lucky break” or “give me a break”, “never give a sucker an even break” etc) is believed derived from billiards (a game in which the “opening break” (first shot) scatters the ordered balls and is attested from 1865).  The use in music began in the 1920s when jazz musicians began to refer to “improvised passages or solos” thus, the idea being something that was a “break” between structured sections.  The original dance form called “breakdown” (defined by the OED as “a riotous dance, in the style of the negroes”) was probably from some time in the nineteenth century but definitely was from south of the Mason-Dixon Line although element of the style probably can be identified in the folk traditions of many cultures.

Raygun Breaking.

Australian breakdancer (breaker) Dr Rachael “Raygun” Gunn (b 1987), during her much-discussed “highly original” performance at the 2024 Paris Summer Olympics.  Between 2020-2026, Dr Gunn was a lecturer in the Department of Media, Communications, Creative Arts, Language & Literature at Macquarie University Faculty of Arts, Sydney, Australia.  Her Ph.D thesis (2017) was titled Deterritorializing Gender in Sydney's Breakdancing Scene: A B-girl's Experience of B-boying in which she explored “The intersection of gender and Sydney's breaking culture”.  The Ph.D was in the (obviously wide) field “cultural studies” but after her appearance in Paris was publicized, on X (formerly known as Twitter) there was much comment about universities conferring “doctorates in break dancing” being a sign of decline in academic standards.   

The more modern “breakdance” seems to have begun in New York City in the 1970s; it was when DJs (disc jockey) played exclusively the “rhythmic break sections from pop-dance songs” and crowds danced accordingly, originally presumably impromptu but the discipline later evolved into choreographed structures.  If, upon entering a room, one sees breakdancing in progress, one’s comment to one’s companion should be: “We are among barbarians.”  Break dancing was included as a “sport” in the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris although the participants are said to prefer it be called “breaking” and the appearance in Paris is thought to have been an attempt to seek the younger demographic not attracted by the charms of “Olympic traditions” such as Greco-Roman wrestling.  The reaction was mixed and, at this time, Breaking is not on the schedules of either the 2028 (Los Angeles) or 2032 (Brisbane) games.   

Although “down” can be used also as a noun, verb, adjective & preposition, as an element in the noun “breakdown”, it operates as an adverbial particle.  What it does is modify the meaning of the verb “break” (in this sense “indicating separation or failure” to create the new noun.  In this context (in a descending direction, from a higher to a lower place, degree, or condition), the pre 1000 down was from the Middle English doun & doune (down), from the Old English dūne (down), an aphetic (loss of a word's initial unstressed vowel) form of adūne (down, downward), from the earlier ofdūne (down (literally “off the hill”), the construct being of- (of, off) + -dūn(e) (hill, mount, dune, down).  Influencing the development from directional phrases to prepositions were the Old Frisian adverb dene (down (literally “(to the) floor”)), the Middle Low German dāle (down, downwards (literally “(in/to the) dale/valley”) from which the German Low German gained dal (down).  The form was cognate with the Scots doon (down) and can be compared with the Saterland Frisian deel (down (literally “to/into the dale”)) and the West Frisian del (down).  The familiar meaning “in a descending direction, from a higher to a lower place, degree, or condition” was inherited from a late development in the Old English that produced a shortened form of the earlier ofdune.  While in general Germanic, this sense development of “hill" uniquely was English.  As a preposition used to mean “in a descending direction upon or along”, use dates from at least the late fourteenth century.  As an idiomatic form, the uses in English of “down” (both literal and figurative) are legion.

Satirical engraving LADIES! LADIES! Mystery of Modern Modesty, Fun magazine, 12 March, 1870.  At the time there was a national debate about the operation of the Matrimonial Causes Act (1857) and the Women's Property Act (1870).

The 1857 Act created a Court of Divorce and Matrimonial Causes and it was in many ways an advance in women’s rights in that it made divorce more accessible but there was an inherent unfairness (something perhaps not surprising in a law emerging from an all-male parliament).  While, as before, men could divorce their wives on the basis of adultery alone, a woman was compelled to prove not only her husband’s adultery but also an additional cause (one or more of cruelty, desertion, incest, rape, sodomy or bestiality).  It was a sexual double standard, the origins of which can be traced to Biblical scripture and reinforced in law the notion a woman's infidelity was inherently worse than that of a man.  Despite that hurdle, the acts did make things slightly better for women in that for the first time there was statutory protection ensuring a divorced woman’s future earnings and property were shielded from claims by an ex-spouse.  Gradually, other reforms further improved things but what didn’t change until the “no fault” principle to some degree civilized divorce proceedings was that the act made “break-ups after break-downs” into a spectator sport and there were tabloid newspapers with sometimes pages of coverage of the antics of the famous or the more salacious conduct by others.

Breakdownism is legal slang referencing the “no-fault” principle existing in many jurisdictions as grounds for divorce.  First becoming popular during the 1970s, it essentially created “divorce on demand”, a reform that has had far-reaching effects (both good and ill) and is thus far thought the “final state” of Western divorce law; certainly it’s an advance “contested” divorces (often highly entertaining matters for others than the parties whose infidelities were being publicized, sometimes with appropriate photographic evidence.  The classic “contested divorce” was a creature of the old Matrimonial Causes Act (1857); prior to that a “complete divorce” permitting remarriage almost always required a private Act of Parliament, a procedure expensive and highly public.  It was also time-consuming, demanding (1) proceedings in an ecclesiastical court seeking an order of separation, (2) in the case of a husband seeking divorce, a successful action for “criminal conversation” (damages against the adulterer) in a common-law court, (3) a correctly drafted private divorce bill introduced into the House of Commons (“first reading”), (4) debate(s) on the bill (“second reading”) that might see the matter (5) “referred to committee for consideration”, (5) a vote in on the bill (“third reading”) that, if passed would see the bill (proposed law) sent to “the other place” (House of Lords) for (6) three readings, possible committee stages and a vote.  If the bill survived all that, it became an act and upon (7) royal assent being granted (by a monarch or their representative (governor, governor-general etc) it was valid law and the divorce had happened.  The subsequent (8) “gazetting” (publication in the Government Gazette) was merely procedural.

So one really had to want a divorce and have the means to obtain one; given all that, it’s not surprising wives and husbands were sometimes murdered as a “work-around”.  One handy solution was however available to certain colonial administrators resident in places where the Islamic Sharia courts operated, applicants often finding the judges much more sympathetic to men wishing quickly to rid themselves of now unsatisfactory wives.  The concept of “breakdownism” ended most of the legal entertainment and the notion of “irreconcilable differences” became the standard expression cited as grounds for divorce.  Regrettably, the tale of one eighteenth century bishop “bribing or persuading" a parliamentary draftsman to insert in an innocuous (and thus not diligently scrutinized) bill the line: “the Bishop of xxx is declared divorced” appears to be apocryphal and may have begun as an illustrative example of the supremacy of parliament over sovereign & church before becoming a “legal legend”.  It probably is a good thing members of the House of Lords no longer debate whether or not to grant someone a divorce because that would at times have meant Lord Peter “Mandy” Mandelson (b 1953) having a vote and the thought of him opining on matters of the conduct and personal morality of others is something to ponder.  The term “meltdownism” is non-standard and used of those for whom “having meltdowns” seems a calling or who obviously “stage” them as a tactic.

Barnes Auto advertising, circa 1939.

In business before World War I (1914-1918) Barnes Auto operates a towing business in Brisbane, Australia, their trucks still adorned in striking blue and orange stripes.  Around 1937, the decision was taken to build a “streamlined breakdown lorry” and while designers in Europe and the US had for some years been applying aerodynamic techniques to heavy trucks, most were produced to improve average speeds and lower fuel consumption on (relatively) high-speed, long-distance routes.  Influenced by advances in aviation, streamlining since the 1920s increasingly had appeared on vehicles on both sides of the Atlantic, the best remembered the grand prix and LSR (land-speed record) machines but stylists (with and without wind-tunnel data), applied the techniques both to mass-market and expensive vehicles so trucks were a logical subject for study given the importance to operators of time and running costs.  Whether Barnes Auto’s 78 HP (horsepower) breakdown lorry, geared as it was to suit its purpose, would often have attained speeds at which the presumed aerodynamic advantages would have rendered either better performance or economy is dubious and the shape may have been more an art deco inspired “rolling advertisement” rather than a piece of functionalism but, if that was the case, it worked because it appears to be the only Brisbane “tow truck” of the era to have survived as a feature in the photographic record.  Certainly, compared with other trucks at the time on the road, the blue & orange striped machine must have been eye-catching.

Barnes' Breakdown Lorry fully loaded, three behind, one in front.

Lorry is of uncertain origin but thought most likely from the dialectal English lurry (to lug or pull about, to drag).  The use emerged in the early to mid-nineteenth century and was applied initially small carts or wagons (both hand propelled and horse-drawn), use quickly extending to the open carriages used on railroads to haul goods or commodities.  In much of the English-speaking world, from the early twentieth century, use transferred to motorized vehicles used for the same purpose and that made sense because the earliest powered lorries literally were the same “carriages” with an engine and drive-train added.  “Lorry” in that sense endures in some places in the old British Empire (notably in India & Pakistan where the linguistic inheritance of the Raj remains strong) but in many places (certainly North America), “truck” (and other specialized forms) became preferred.  Even in some places where use of “lorry” lingers, it's now often a sometimes rare niche word describing freight-vehicles larger than “pick-ups” but smaller than “trucks”.  In Australia and New Zealand, it's possible “lorry” may go extinct as those who grew up with the word age and die.

“Tugboat Annie”, waiting for a breakdown needing a tow, Mankato, Minnesota, US, 1937.

The coach-built body was created by (the still operating) Watt Brothers of Wolloongabba on a 1938 Dodge two-ton truck chassis, shortened, reinforced and converted to full forward control.  Although new to Brisbane, similar lines had been seen in US, notably on “Tugboat Annie”, built in Mankato, Minnesota and based on a 1937 International cabover tow truck; presumably such things provided the template followed by the Watts.  The 78 HP, six cylinder engine (one of the variants of Chrysler’s long-serving “flathead six, 1924-1963), was connected through a series of reduction gears via a double-faced clutch to a double jib hoist capable of a ten-ton lift with the lifting and trailing gear arranged so four vehicles simultaneously could be towed: three at the rear, one in front, an apparatus now unlikely much to impress Australian regulatory.  There doesn’t appear to be footage of the breakdown lorry on the move with four broken–down cars attached (three to the rear, one in front) but it would have required a driver with skill and experience, especially to handle the behaviour of the one ahead, the whole ensemble presumably acting like something centrally “hinged”.  On aspect that would have assisted in that was the outstanding visibility the styling afforded a driver, the extremities of the load being a critical thing to monitor.  Because of the four-vehicle capacity, an impressive 600 feet (183 metres) of wire rope was carried, the location of the connection-points on the towed vehicles an important factor in maintaining directional control while in movement.  The Breakdown Lorry served throughout World War II (1939-1945) and wasn’t replaced (by a conventionally styled, English-built, crew cab Dodge) until the mid 1950s.  Regrettably, Barnes proved unsentimental about retired equipment and once deemed obsolete, Breakdown Lorry was sent to a local rubbish dump, meaning an improbable piece of art deco history was lost but, because of the evidence in photographic archives, the distinctive lines attracted the model-makers, Autocult releasing one in 1:43 scale.

The Breakdown Lorry with Douglas DC-3, Brisbane International Airport, circa 1942 (colorized image).

In Australia, the DC-3 was operated by the RAAF (Royal Australian Air Force), Ansett Airlines, TAA (Trans Australia Airlines, ANA (Australian National Airways) and a myriad of smaller operators.  Produced mostly between 1936-1945, over 600 were built; robust, economical to operate and with an admirable safety record, it was for years a mainstay of civil aviation and General Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; POTUS 1953-1961), who often travelled in one while Supreme Commander Allied Expeditionary Forces (1943-1945), reckoned the DC-3 was one of the tools (others including the bazooka and Jeep) that made Allied victory in World War II possible by 1945.  The DC-3 in the photograph is "Kyilla" (registered as VH-UZJ), the first one imported into Australia (the invoiced cost Aus£41,000).  Delivered in November 1937, it flew with AoA (Airlines of Australia, an operator that in 1931 originally traded as NEA (New England Airlines) before in 1942 being absorbed by ANA).  Between 1939-1940, Kyilla was leased (“temporarily impressed” the wartime terminology) to the RAAF to cover a “delivery gap” and in 1943 it commenced regular service in ANA.

Autocult's 1:43 scale model.

Trucks in the era were anyway low-geared (in some jurisdictions, above a certain gross weight, maximum speeds as low as 30-40 mph (50-70 km/h) sometimes were imposed but the gearbox in the Barnes Breakdown Lorry had an unusually low ratio first-gear (a so-called “stump puller” of the type often seen in agricultural vehicles), enabling it to ascend even the steepest grades, allowing vehicles to be recovered from hilly terrain.  The apparatus used for the double jib hoist must have been intriguing to see and the mechanism, developed in-house by Barns was fine piece of engineering, combining intricacy with robustness while eschewing needless complexity.  In that it followed the maxim on design and problem-solving coined by German architect Professor Heinrich Tessenow (1876-1950): “The simplest form is not always the best, but the best is always simple.”  That was a refinement of novacula Occami (Occam's razor), a principle attributed to the English Franciscan friar, theologian & philosopher Guillelmus de Ockham (William of Ockham circa  1287–1347).  Occam’s razor (the idea one of “cutting away the unnecessary”) recommends searching for explanations constructed with the smallest possible set of elements; on that basis it was styled also as lex parsimoniae (law of parsimony), often glossed as Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitate (Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity).  Even today the mechanism on a tow truck is a fine example of Professor Tessnow’s maxim being applied with brutish efficiency although modern regulations mean something as intriguing as Barnes’ “four strand” arrangement can no longer be used.

One of the many curiosities in English is despite “up” & “down” being diametric opposites, “break down” and “break up” can mean the same thing.  In human relationships, it’s not uncommon for a “break-up” of a couple to follow a “break-down” in their relationship but when applied to physical objects, some are said to be “broken down” while others are “broken up”, despite the processes being conceptually much the same.  The apparent anomaly is explained by the history of the industries involved and conventions of English.  As a general principle, of objects, “break down” means “to dismantle something into its constituent parts or to reduce it to a simpler state”, meaning the term is used to emphasize fragmentation, destroying the integrity of something as a single object.  Despite that, the convention in the business of “shipbreaking” (literally “cutting apart” vessels and using the metal as “scrap”) is of being “broken up”.  The origin of shipbreaking dates from the nineteenth century when the iron and later steel that had come to be used for the structures was valued as scrap metal after a vessel’s economic life had ended.  This involved sometimes dozens of workers stripping fittings from hulls before progressively cutting or demolishing what remained, section by section, until nothing recognizably nautical remained.  In the industry and in news reports, even then the process routinely was referred to as “breaking up”. 

Putting up a final struggle: HMS Vanguard aground on the way to the wrecker's yard to be broken up, Portsmouth Harbour, England, 4 August, 1960.

Launched in 1946, Vanguard was the RN's (Royal Navy) last dreadnought and no nation has since commissioned a battleship.  In the space of a half-century, the battleship shifted from the most powerful military weapon on earth to a white elephant and despite use of the word “battleship” during Donald Trump's (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) recent mention that the USS Defiant would be the first of the new “Trump Class” of surface warships, the USN (US Navy) will not be launching any true “battleships”, the service having in 1992 struck from the list the last of the four Iowa Class ships commissioned between 1943-1944.

Obviously, shipbreaking, while in a sense a well-planned and careful “disassembly”, was an act of “total and final destruction”, the many pieces of metal sent to be “melted down” before being transformed into something else (not necessarily another ship).  That use of the term was different from the process undertaken by mechanics or technicians when “breaking down” a piece of equipment. Something done typically to effect repairs or maintenance, the emphasis very much on a carefully ordered process, disassembly most systematic because all or some of the components removed would need to be restored to their original positions when the thing was “put back together”.  So that’s how the conventions emerged: (1) “breaking up” a destructive process and (2) “breaking down a step in processes of repair, maintenance or upgrades.  Deconstructing the elements at the etymological level, there’s no reason why the terms couldn’t have been applied the other way round but, by patterns of use, the idiomatic forms became fixed.

A Lindsay Lohan “meltdown scene”, The Canyons (2013).

In the furnaces fed by the shipbreakers, to “melt down” was literally to bring scrap metal to its melting point, meaning it flowed like a liquid and could be cooled to form into shapes able to be re-used (plates, bars, beams etc).  In the post-war years, “meltdown” (first in this context recorded in 1963) ominously became familiar as the graphical encapsulation of what would happen to at least a large part of the core of a nuclear-reactor were the fuel elements subject to inadequate cooling.  The idea was the highly radioactive core would become so hot it would “melt down”, through the floor to the earth below.  Depending on the thickness of the facility’s concrete floor a core could in theory do exactly that but extending the idea to the popular description “China syndrome” was fanciful.  That idiom was based on the notion that if one (in Europe) kept digging a hole, eventually they’d dig “all the way to China” (“China” a synecdoche for “other side of the world”).  In many places the geography would have been dubious but so too the geology; even by 2026 the deepest hole ever dug remains Hole SG-3 (Kola Superdeep Borehole) in Russia’s Murmansk region.  Begun as a Soviet scientific project in 1970, by 1989 it achieved a vertical depth of 12.7 kilometres (7.6 miles) into the Earth's continental crust at which point the project had to be abandoned because temperatures at the drill bit had reached 180°C (356°F), much hotter than the expected 100°C (356°F).  At that level, rock becomes too soft successfully to drill.  Technically, the 12.7 km depth was a remarkable piece of applied engineering but to put the “China Syndrome” into perspective that’s around 0.2% of the way to the planet’s centre (the Earth's radius is some 6,371 kilometres (3959 miles)).

The “Elephant's Foot”, Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, Ukraine.  It came more to resemble a boot but when first identified, it was though to be more “pachydermish”.

So, in a nuclear meltdown, a core would have a long way to go and, in the most infamous example to date, the core didn’t get even to the Earth’s surface.  In April 1986, reactor 4 of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant (in Ukraine, then one of the constituent SSRs (Soviet Socialist Republic) of the Soviet Union (1922-1991)) exploded after a serious of procedural errors in what was, with the darkest irony, supposed to be a routine “safety test”.  When the heat of the core passed the “critical point of no return” the meltdown started, the core (a molten, toxic, lava-like mixture of uranium fuel, graphite, steel and concrete (“corium” in the jargon) melted through the bottom of the reactor vessel, flowing through pipes, corridors, and steam suppression pools inside the building.  The core did however stay completely within the facility’s basement levels (made from thick concrete) and it remains radioactive although it has now cooled to the point where it’s possible to stand relatively close without receiving a dangerous dose although, uranium being almost inert, if left undisturbed, when (10 billion years from now) our Sun expires (having “burned up” the fuel sustaining its nuclear fusion) some 25% of it will remain extant and the Elephant's Foot will be about as radioactive as its weight in bananas.  A banana contains Potassium-40 and is about as radioactive as a typical carrot or potato but other foods are more so, Brazil nuts by a factor of more than three.

Bruno Ganz’s “Hitler’s meltdown scene” in Downfall (2004).

In informal use, “meltdown” is used of sudden declines in stock prices or other undesirable “sharp market corrections” but the most popular use is of “dramatic performances” (of grief, rage, despair etc) consequent upon a sudden loss of control over one’s feelings or behavior.  Mothers will be familiar with meltdowns by their toddlers, typically over life-changing issues such as not getting an ice cream or the television being switched-off.  On screen, one of the most famous depictions of a meltdown was the performance of Swiss actor Bruno Ganz (1941-2019) as Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) in Downfall (2004), a study of the characters in the Führerbunker during the “last days of the Third Reich”.  The performance inspired an entire genre of “Hitler Rant Parodies”, the quality of which is “patchy”.  Hitler’s meltdown came during a military briefing after learning Waffen-SS (Armed SS) Obergruppenführer (general) Felix Steiner (1896–1966) had failed to assemble the forces to launch a relieving attack Hitler had ordered against the Red Army formations besieging Berlin.  That was by then militarily impossible but the unwelcome news induced in Hitler a legendary rant of several minutes during which he ranged against those he thought responsible for his predicament, notably the army’s officer corps and even the previously trusted SS.

The SS (ᛋᛋ in Armanen runes; Schutzstaffel (literally “protection squadron” but translated variously as “protection squad”, “security section" etc) was formed (under different names) in 1923 as a Nazi party squad to provide security at public meetings (then often rowdy and violet affairs) and was later re-purposed as a personal bodyguard for Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945).  The SS name was adopted in 1925 and during the Third Reich the institution evolved into a vast economic, industrial and military apparatus more than two million strong to the point where some historians (and contemporaries) regarded it as a kind of “state within a state”.  The Waffen-SS (armed SS (ie equipped with military-grade weapons)) existed on a small scale as early as 1933 before Hitler’s agreement was secured to create a formation at divisional strength and growth was gradual even after the outbreak of hostilities in 1939 and it was the invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941 which triggered the Waffen-SS’s expansion into a multi-national armoured force with over 900,000 men under arms.  As well as the SS’s role in the administration of the many concentration and extermination camps, the Waffen-SS was widely implicated in war crimes and crimes against humanity.  Towards the end of the meltdown, Hitler, with tears in his eyes, admitted the war was “lost”, something that was by then (or should have been) obvious to all in the bunker.  Although only two of those who witnessed the meltdown survived the war to tell the tale (Generaloberst (Colonel General) Alfred Jodl (1890–1946, chief of the OKW operations staff 1939-1945 and Generalfeldmarschall Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; chief of OKW 1938-1945)), such was the volume it was heard by many in an adjoining room and historians agree Ganz’s performance captured the moment.

Flamingo

Flamingo (pronounced fluh-ming-goh)

(1) Any of several aquatic wading birds of the family Phoenicopteridae (the only extant family in the order Phoenicopteriformes), having very long legs and neck, webbed feet, a bill bent downward at the tip and pinkish to scarlet plumage; they tend to inhabit brackish lakes.

(2) In the color spectrum, a shade of reddish-orange but in commercial use, often various hues of pink.

1555–1565: From the Portuguese flamengo (flamingo) and Spanish flamenco (flamingo), from the Catalan & Old Occitan (Old Provençal) flamenc, (flame colored), the construct being the Latin flamma (flame) + the Germanic suffix -enc (-ing), denoting “descent from or membership of”.  Both the Portuguese flamengo and the Spanish flamengo translate literally as “flame-colored” (the Greek phoinikopteros (flamingo) literally was “red feathered").  The Portuguese, Spanish & Catalan forms were used adjectivally as an ethnonym meaning “Flemish”; Fleming (the Belgium region), seems originally to have been a jocular name, coined because the conventional Romance image of the inhabitants was of “those with a ruddy-complexion”.  Although the term is now uncommon (and rarely heard in commentary), in cricket, “flamingo shot” describes a ball "flicked" from outside off stump through midwicket.  The more serious types among the ornithologists say the collective noun for flamingos is “a stand” but most favor the more evocative “flamboyance” and one suspects the birds would prefer it too.  Flamingo is a noun & adjective and flamingoish is an adjective; the noun plural is flamingos or flamingoes.

In Spanish, flamenco can be used colloquially as an adjective meaning “robust, healthy-looking” and is a type of dance.  In an example of cultural cross-fertilization, flamenca (feminine singular of flamenco) seems to have been the original name for a form of Spanish poetry which came to be called seguidilla (the construct being seguida (sequence) + -illa (the diminutive suffix).  Seguidilla meant “series, sequence, list (a set of related things in an order)” and also described a “lively, triple-time, Spanish tune and dance”, the rhythm of which was the source of the metrical form of the verse.  Although the musical source is uncontested, because of the origins in folk culture (and thus there exists scant documentation), the exact structure of the early verse is uncertain but speculative reconstructions suggest flamenca began as a four-line strophe with alternating long and short lines (seven or eight syllables in the long lines; five or six in the short).  Literary historians are however certain that later (likely in the seventeenth century) three lines were added and the form became codified as a seven-line form, alternating seven and five syllables in the first part, and five, seven, five in the second.  Critics list it as the most elegant of the popular Spanish metrical forms and it’s unique in being the only generalized form of the seven-line verse.

Lindsay Lohan in Dubai in flamingo pink Aeire velour tracksuit with yoga mat, January, 2023.

The term “flamingo pink” has much commercial appeal because of the charismatic birds so use often is a bit opportunistic given the coloring of flamingos varies widely depending on their diet, many often more of an orange hue than red or pink.  There’s thus much variation on the color charts while garment manufacturers appear mostly to slot in “Flamingo pink” as a shade somewhat toned-down from “hot pink” or “fuchsia”.  Legislation in the UAE (United Arab Emirates, including Dubai) affords individuals significant protection from being photographed without their consent so there the paparazzi are noticeably less active than in most Western jurisdictions.  Thus an image of celebrity in a public place in Dubai can usually be assumed to have been staged or in some way authorized.  As a general principle, those in Dubai are (mostly) free to photograph the built environment, landscapes, tourist attractions and even street scenes but deliberately (or even inadvertently) photographing an identifiable person without their consent can potentially create legal liability.  This is the case especially if the image is deemed to constitute an invasion of privacy or is published or shared electronically.  The mere inclusion of people in photographs may not constitute an offence even if one or more is identifiable, a typical example being a shot of a tourist attraction in which one or more tourist appears; as in the West, this is an aspect of law in which intent is a factor.  Ms Lohan more than once has mentioned one of the attractions of Dubai is the level of protection from paparazzi afforded to public figures.

The revolution: Flamingos doing their bit.

In 2026, the flamingo made a rare appearance in political discourse, the charismatic bird adopted as the symbol of the Albanian protest movement focused on their government’s approval of a luxury tourism development backed by US investor Jared Kushner (b 1981) son-in-law of Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) by virtue of his marriage to Ivana “Ivanka” Trump (b 1981).  The connection between bird & protest lies in flamingos being among the many species inhabiting the Vjosa–Narta wetland ecosystem surrounding Sazan Island and the Zvërnec project site, the concern being the environmental damage that will be a consequence of both the construction and ongoing operation of the proposed resort.  Reflecting a wider discontent, the protests quickly morphed from something about the environment to a general expression of discontent with corruption in government, unlawful conduct by a variety of regulatory authorities and state-based manipulation of the media intended to conceal the impact of the development.

Now a political symbol: A pair of inflatable flamingos.

A localized protest close to the site was met with violence by the security forces, the reaction to that the spread of demonstrations to major cities, supported by the extensive and far-flung Albanian diaspora; props used by the protesters included flamingo cut-outs and inflatable flamingos, mostly in a “hotter” pink to the bird’s usual plumage.  Predictably, the government’s response came from the playbook of comrade Enver Hoxha (1908-1985; dictator of Albanian 1944-1985) with the protesters being accused of being the “tools of foreign interests” and elements in a “misinformation campaign” in a “hybrid war” being waged by “Albania’s enemies”.  Already dubbed the “Flamingo Revolution” (time will tell whether that is premature or prescient), the protests are an example of a general discontent with “the political class” and in Europe, politicians will be paying more than the usual (ie none) attention to Albania, remembering Otto von Bismarck’s (1815-1898; chancellor of the German Empire (the “Second Reich”) 1871-1890) warning that bad things can spread from “some damned fool thing in the Balkans”.

Flamingos in the Air

Safety in numbers: Wildlife photographer Ron Magill's (b 1960) image of flamingos in the Miami Zoo Public Bathroom, sitting (standing) out Hurricane Andrew, a Category 5 Atlantic hurricane that struck Florida in August 1992.  It remains the most destructive weather event recorded in Florida but all in the flamboyance of flamingos sheltering in the bathroom survived.  Flamingos are omnivores, filter-feeding on brine shrimp and blue-green algae as well as larva, small insects, mollusks and crustaceans, their vivid pink or reddish feathers a product of the beta-carotenoids rich in this diet.  The birds usually stand on one leg with the other tucked beneath and why they do this is not understood.  One theory is that standing on one leg allows them to conserve more body heat, given they spend a significant amount of time wading in cold water, but the behavior is also observed in warm water and among birds ashore.  The alternative theory is that standing on one leg reduces the energy required for the muscular effort to stand and balance and flamingos demonstrate substantially less body sway in a one-legged posture.  The answer thus is “don't know” but it may reasonably be assumed they prefer it because it's easier.

Perhaps the world's only black flamingo.

In 2015, during a routine “flamingo count”, a black flamingo was observed on the salt lake at the Akrotiri Environmental Centre on the southern coast of Cyprus, zoologists noting it may be not merely rare but perhaps the only one in existence; it's assumed to be the same bird seen in Israel in 2014 (large flamingo flocks are known regularly to fly long distances).  The black plumage is a result of melanism, a genetic condition in which the pigment melanin is over-produced, turning the feathers black during development.  The opposite of melanism is albinism, when no melanin is made and the animal is colorless except for a faint hue (from red blood vessels) in the eyes.  There are many intermediate stages between melanism & albinism where various pigments partially are missing, resulting the patchy coloration known as leucism but albino and leucistic (partial albino) birds are not uncommon, unlike the genuine rarity of the melanistic flamingo.  Why flamingos are so rarely affected while black owls, woodpeckers, herons and many others often are observed isn't known but the condition appears to be most common in a some hawk species, jaegers and a few seabirds.  Pedants noted the much-travelled black flamingo actually had a few white tail feathers so suggested it should not be classified as a true instance of melanism but specialist ornithologists, while acknowledging there were aberrant white feathers, dismissed their presence with an observation something like “...a few, but then again, too few to mention”.

RAF (Royal Air Force) de Havilland DH.95 Flamingo Mark I.

First flown in 1938 before entering service in 1939, the de Havilland DH.95 Flamingo was a twin-engined, high-wing monoplane airliner, the design reflecting the then current thinking about short-haul civil aviation, the emphasis on passenger comfort and economy of operation, the latter still a consuming interest of carriers.  De Havilland’s designers used the US Douglas DC-3 (the Dakota, then the dominant airframe in civil use), as a model, the Flamingo a little scaled-down better to suit the economics of European operations.  Although never envisaged as a military platform, the Air Ministry placed an order for a small run to be used as transport and communications aircraft but production plans were interrupted by the outbreak of World War II (1939-1945) and the ministry directed de Havilland’s capacity should be re-allocated to manufacturing more urgently-needed machines.  So, only 14 Flamingos were built and those used by the Army and RAF all were struck from the active list before the war was over, some returned to civil use, the last remaining in service until the early 1950s.  The Flamingo is however over-represented in the wartime photographic record because it was a RAF Flamingo that was Winston Churchill’s (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) preferred short-haul transport and in one he made his famous flights to France in May 1940 as he attempted to stiffen the resolve of the French cabinet to remain in the war.

The Flamingo Pose

The flamingo pose, perfected by Gigi Hadid (b 1995).  Note hand braced against wall with fingers spread (both techniques borrowed from structural engineering), a way of “distributing the load”, lowering the centre of gravity, thus enhancing stability.

Among humans, the reason for the flamingo pose is well understood: Instagram.  It’s in the tradition of earlier “duck face”, “fish gape pose”, “T. rex selfie hand”, “Bambi pose”, “resting bitch face”, “ear scratch” and “migraine pose” etc, all of which (at least before becoming clichéd) had visual appeal while some offered functional advantages.  Humans don’t however enjoy the evolutionary heritage of flamingos and the pose can be a technical challenge if attempted while standing; models suggest using a wall or handrail for balance if the photo session is at all protracted.  A better alternative can be to pose while sitting, one leg extended with the other bent or tucked away in some fetching manner.

Flamingos on wheels

1961 Buick Flamingo.

Attendances had been declining at GM’s (General Motors) Motorama so 1961 would prove the final season for the traveling road show that, known originally as Autorama, had since 1949 been an annual event (except in the troubled years 1957-1958) in major cities (Boston, New York, Miami, San Francisco etc).  In those years more than ten million had visited the exhibits but the public’s taste in entertainment had shifted and by the 1960s the cars being displayed were no longer as entertaining, the wild, extravagant exercises which blended automobiles with styling cues from missiles and jet aircraft replaced by what were mostly blinged-up variants of vehicles already in production.  Rather than being a forum to excite the imagination, Motorama had descended into a kind of large-scale focus-group to “test the water”, gauging reaction to innovations or gimmicks that might later appear in showrooms.

Testing the water: 19 members of the Brighton Swimming Club, in their top hats and swim trunks, East Sussex, Brighton, England, 1863, photograph by Benjamin William Botham (1824-1877).  Note chap (fourth from left) adopting flamingo pose: there’s one in every crowd.

Buick’s 1961 Flamingo was very much in the vein of a “test the water” exercise.  It was based on a standard-production Electra 225 convertible but finished in a pearlescent pink, the paint mixed using the same techniques as the West Coast hot rod community: exotic pigments & toners with metal-flakes, challenging enough to perfect for a one-off and years away from being viable for large-scale production.  While an extensive use of pink paint and accessories had not much increased the appeal of the Dodge La Femme (1955-1956) among the female demographic in which US commerce was taking an increasing interest, Buick's product planners must have decided there was life in the “women like pink” approach.  Cynical that may have been but the sparkling color must have been eye-catching under the lights and the Flamingo was one of the most photographed exhibits when the 1961 Motorama opened its swansong season at New York’s Waldorf Astoria Hotel, then the final home of General Douglas MacArthur (1880–1964).  The Flamingo’s interior certainly complimented the paint, the two-tone upholstery in pink leather and cranberry brocade while the front bucket seats were separated by a wide console trimmed in bright metal, a feature Detroit widely would adopt although in 1961 Buick kept the transmission’s shift level on the column; “T-bar” shifts and such soon would come.

1961 Buick Flamingo.

Structurally, the Flamingo's most obvious novelty was the pivoting passenger seat, able to turned 180^o and thus more easily permit a conversation with those in the rear compartment, an design aspect to ponder given it was before seatbelts were universal but well after the publication of Sir Isaac Newton's (1642–1727) First Law of Motion (known also as the Law of Inertia: “An object at rest will remain at rest, and an object in motion will continue in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced external force”).  It was also a time before Ralph Nader’s (b 1934) book Unsafe at Any Speed (1965) prompted politicians to take their legislative axe to such ventures.  Swivelling front seats had actually been around for a while but their extent of rotation had been only the few degrees required to afford easier ingress and egress although Chrysler did later include a passenger seat able to rotate the full 180^o.  Offered as part of the “Mobile Director Package” and available exclusively on the 1967-1968 Imperial Crown Coupe, demand was subdued and even had it not been obvious the new safety rules would outlaw such things, the option would not have been carried over to the new generation of “Fuselage” cars in 1969.  What became of the Buick Flamingo isn’t known.  It was mechanically identically to any other Electra 225 convertible so it may have been used by Buick’s engineers for other purposes and the consensus is it was likely scrapped and sent to the crusher, the fate of many such machines.

Chevrolet Firenza Can-Am advertisement, 1973.

Internationally, the South African automotive industry of the 1960s and early 1970s remains best known for improving cars from Europe by installing larger capacity V8 engines sourced from the US, the most noted including the Perana (the Mark I Ford Capri (1969-1974) but fitted with a 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) V8) some 500 of which were built until the first oil shock (1973) put a stop to the fun and the Chevrolet Firenza Can-Am (a coupé variant of the HC Vauxhall Viva (1970-1979) which used the Chevrolet Z/28 302 V8 that had in the US become surplus when the rules of the Trans-Am competition were relaxed to permit racing teams to de-stroke larger displacement units to meet the 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) class limit), 100 produced in 1973 as a homologation exercise for use in local competition.  Fondly those brutish machines still are recalled by those who remember how things used to be done but, years before, there had also been the rather more delicate GSM Flamingo.

1963 GSM Flamingo, note the elevated stance and disproportionate windscreen height.

Capetown-based GSM (Glassport Motor Company) was formed in 1958 with a business model following the approach of many small-scale “cottage industry” producers in the UK: Diminutive sports cars with small-displacement engines that achieved competitive performance through the light weight of their bodies constructed with the then still novel fibreglass in shapes which, although often not wind-tunnel tested, certainly looked aerodynamic.  GSM had enjoyed some success with their Dart sports car (1958-1964) but when in 1962 the company expanded the range to include the Flamingo, it followed the approach which doomed more than one concern: A larger coupé, fitted with some of the creature comforts better to appeal to a wider market than their uncompromising little roadsters, the native environment of the latter a race track.  Had it been possible to fit the Flamingo with Ford’s Cologne V6 engine the car might have enjoyed greater commercial success but for various reasons it appeared instead with the corporation’s 1.5 & 1.7 litre (92 & 102 cubic inch) four cylinder units.  Although the low mass and clearly slippery aerodynamics made it possible for some Flamingos to achieve a then exceptional 110 mph (175 km/h), in getting there it lacked the refinement buyers of coupés in its price range had come to expect and production ended in 1964.

1963 GSM Flamingo.

Entertaining though it was acknowledged to be, the target market wanted also to be pampered and there were too many aspects of the Flamingo that betrayed its “backyard” origins.  The cars sat higher on the chassis than was intended because of a measurement error when the molds were created (shades of the later Hubble Space Telescope) which meant a somewhat “jacked-up” look and, more seriously, a higher centre of gravity which had to be compensated for by adjustments to the suspension settings, exactly what MG was in 1974 compelled to do to make its Midget (1963-1979) and MGB (1962-1980) comply with US headlight height rules.  Had resources been available, the flawed molds would have been scrapped and re-cast using correct dimensions but by then cash-flow was more of a priority than perfection.  Additionally, the windscreen, while offering commanding visibility, was aesthetically too big for the shape, economic realities dictating the “best fit available” being bought “off the shelf”, in this case the glass from BMC’s (British Motor Corporation) Austin A40 Farina (1958-1967, the Countryman version of which was one of the earliest “hatchbacks”).  Coincidentally, Nissan in 1968 created a similar look when adding a taller windscreen to their Fairlady roadster (1963-1970 and in some markets sold as the “Sports”, “1500”, “1600” or “2000” (the latter three designations denoting engine displacement)), preferring that to fitting a third windscreen wiper as the UK industry did to render the Austin Healey Sprite (1958-1971) & MG Midget compliant with US regulations.  The A40's re-purposed windscreen made things a little ungainly but the “split rear screen” was, visually, more satisfying and the car’s most memorable feature.

1963 GSM Flamingo.  As well as providing structural integrity, at speed, the central fin would have contributed to straight-line stability.

Common in the inter-war years, most split rear screens were gone by the mid-1950s although there was a quixotic revival by GM which included the look on the C2 Chevrolet Corvette (1963-1967).  The cause at the time of internecine squabbles within the division, the “anti-splitty” faction prevailed and the 1964 models appeared with a single piece of glass but, in a sense, the “splitty” faction had the last laugh because, apart from limited production exotics like the GS Sport (5) and L88 (20), it’s the 1963 coupes that are the most sought-after C2 Corvettes.  At the time, the GSM Flamingo probably was thought to be a final fling for the split-screen but the feature appeared (mounted in a pair of hood covers which opened a la gullwing doors) on the achingly lovely De Tomaso Mangusta (1967-1971) and behind the Iron Curtain, as late as 1975, in Czechoslovakia (the Warsaw Pact’s improbable source of the avant-garde) Tatra still was producing the 603 (1956-1975), the last car in volume production with a split rear screen.

Road test of GSM Flamingo V8, Car Magazine, February 1967.

It’s the treatment of the rear glass that tends to dominate the design; the distinctive swept point, splitting the window, created a dramatic, “double-scalloped” rear deck and what was, in effect, a fin.  That was not a whimsical stylistic flourish but a structural necessity to achieve the desired strength without increasing weight by adding reinforcing steel to support the fibreglass skin and was GSM's second attempt to style the rear, the original “breadvan” look having been considered and discarded.  That was indicative of the high development costs and, in an attempt to amortize the investment, production was increased but demand never reached to level necessary to sustain the business and GSM in 1965 ceased trading after building 128 Flamingos and 116 of the earlier Dart roadsters.  That meant the planned version of the Flamingo with a 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) Ford V8 never came to fruition but one prototype was built using a 221 cubic inch (3.6 litre) version.  It had been a 221 AC in England had been given to install in an Ace; that became the first Shelby American Cobra prototype which, after being shipped to Shelby's Los Angeles operation received a 260, becoming “the first Cobra”.  A V8 Flamingo of course sounds an enticing prospect but when it’s remembered Shelby’s Cobra was financially viable to the extent it was only because of Ford’s corporate support, its prospects of success would likely have been limited to racetracks.

2008 Morgan Aeromax.  It's likely designers will again be tempted by the lure of the split screen so it may again be seen.

For decades the split screens on the 1963 Corvette and GSM Flamingo had been remembered as quirky outliers but, thirty years after the last Tatra 603 left the line, Morgan brought back the look.  It was unexpected because the split rear screen was last part mainstream design language around 1936 when Morgan added a fourth wheel to the roadsters the company had been manufacturing since 1910.  However, almost every Morgan made since a fourth wheel sprouted has maintained a strong visual link with the roadsters of 1936 so there was really no machine better suited to being adorned with the feature.  In the narrow technical sense it really wasn’t a “retro touch” because even in 1936 Morgans were beginning to look an anachronism and by 1955 when MG's MGA (1955-1962) replaced the TF (1953-1955 and the last of the old “square riggers”), it was a living relic.  The split rear screen appeared in 2005 on what had been intended as a one-off for a private collector but so positive was the reception when the car was shown at that year’s Geneva Motor Show a run of 100 units was arranged.  Released as the Aeromax (2008-2009), the distinctive split rear windows opened, clamshell-like (a la the De Tomaso Mangusta) and the offer of 100 was over-subscribed although a reputed additional four were manufactured to replace those damaged in accidents and written off.  Under the art deco aluminum body, the Aeromax was powered by a 4.8-litre (292 cubic inch) BMW V8 rated at 367 HP, making the lightweight machine genuinely fast (although better behaved than the swing-axled Tatras).