Almach

Almach (pronounced elle-mak)

(1) In astronomy, a second-magnitude quadruple star, telescopically visible as an apparent double star composed of an orange bright giant and a fifth-magnitude blue-white triple star, marking the left foot of the chained woman in the northern constellation of Andromeda.

(2) In astronomy, Gamma Andromedae, specifically the brightest star of the Almach star system.

Late 1500s (in English): From the Arabic العناق الأرض (al-ʿanāq al-arḍ) (desert lynx or caracal).  The construct of the original Arabic was al- (the (the Arabic definite article)) + ʿanāq (a small wild animal, often glossed as lynx, caracal, or desert fox) + al-arḍ (“the earth” or “the ground”).  The process by which “al-ʿanāq al-ard” became “Almach” was a familiar one, the transmission into medieval Latin astronomical texts often was accomplished via translations of works by writers from Antiquity such as the Greco-Roman mathematician, astronomer & astrologer Ptolemy (Claudius Ptolemy, circa 100–170), filtered sometimes through the writings of Arabic scholars who contributed much to pre-modern science.  These processes appears to have been lineal (though not necessarily in a single path because variations in spelling and use continued with alternatives running in parallel) and the evolution essential was al-ʿanāq → al-anach → almach.  The “-mach” element was a not untypical corruption of the guttural consonants (ʿayn and qāf) so familiar in Arabic that didn’t map neatly into pronunciation in Latin or later European languages.  While not a “meaningful” word in European languages Almach endures as fossilized misreading of an Arabic descriptive name, preserved (as modified) through the long transmission chain of classical astronomy, a not unique linguistic phenomenon because other names of places in the Cosmos (such as Rigel and Betelgeuse) went through similar Arabic to Latin distortions and these types, although outwardly different, in structural linguistics, the patterns are said to be consistent.

Caracel HD wallpaper from Alphacoders.

The related variant (referring to the same star) is Alamak, a closer phonetic attempt at the Arabic original.  Alamak may be thought a less-corrupted sibling of Almach with both traced back to the same Arabic source, the difference being in the in transliteration of ʿanāq, approximated as anak or amak.  So “Alamak” represents a more faithful attempt to emulate the phonetic practice in Arabic with the consonants (especially the final qāf) rendered in something close to the original but whether this happened as a deliberate attempt at “authenticity”, through the offices of an Arabic-speaking scholar or a native speaker of the tongue isn’t known.  That of course poses the question of why, when Arabic astronomical, scientific or mathematical texts were translated into Latin in medieval Spain or elsewhere, there was no standardized system for either preserving multi-word (or element) names or representing guttural consonants.  Etymologists caution modern conventions and conditions cannot be mapped onto earlier eras with transliterations and translations a good example.  In Europe, scholars, separated often by hundreds of miles, sometimes were working with the same ancient or foreign texts and it wasn’t unknown for them for years or even decades to be unaware of the work of others, the modern concepts of “publishing” and “distribution” then centuries away.  That’s also why so many errors of translation for so long endured into the Renaissance, the Enlightenment and Modernity, a mistake which gained critical mass (especially if widely printed) being accepted as orthodoxy.  Sometimes the errors were mistakes or misunderstandings but there’s long been evidence medieval scribes weren’t above “making stuff up” to “fill in the gaps” so what the early versions of consumer-level generative AI (artificial intelligence) products (ie, the ones we’re living with in the mid-2020s) sometimes do is not novel, as the recent "experiment" publishing "data" about the "condition" bixonimania demonstrated. 

Almach's place in Andromeda from the BBC's Sky at Night.  The lines drawn on the chart illustrate the romantic origin of the link with the caracal (lynx or desert fox).

Both “Almach” & “Alamak” (or “Almak” entered English through the highly productive medieval–early modern pipeline of Arabic to Latin to become part of the vernacular of astronomy but use stabilized at different times.  Almach came first to English, appearing late in the sixteenth century in “star catalogues” (some of which carefully were illustrated with commendable accurately) and by the early 1600s, it had been accepted as the standard form in English astronomical works, remaining the dominant use for Gamma Andromedae well into the modern period.  The variants “Alamak” & “Almak” came later, there being no evidence of use prior to the mid-eighteenth century and the more phonetically informed transliteration probably was influenced by an improved European knowledge of Arabic phonology, the shift from “-ch” to “-k” representing a closer rendering of the Arabic ق. (qāf).  While that “authenticity” made it a more “difficult” word for those in the West, there were scholars wo took pride in wherever possible respecting original forms and although mistakes may have come from “source documents”, it was accepted practice to “correct” things verified as wrong.  “Almak” however was not an “error”; it was a variant spelling of “Alamak” simplified by dropping the medial vowel.  Today, “Almach” remains the orthodoxy in astronomy, while “Almak” survives as a recognized but less common variant.  In the layered lexicon of astronomy, the synonym of Almach is Andromedae and the holonym (in philosophy & semantics, philosophy a term that denotes the whole of which another term's referent is a part) is Andromeda.  Almach is a proper noun.

Despite the similarity, there is no connection between the use of “Alamak” in astrometry and the Malay word alamak (an interjection meaning something like “Oh dear” (in the sense of an expression of shock or dismay)?  While the former ultimately was the result of transliteration drift (an attempt to correct an imperfect rendering of a Latinized Arabic), the Malay word comes from a wholly separate linguistic stream.  The Malay interjection alamak! deconstructs as al- (the Arabic definite article (the) which was absorbed into Malay through Islamic and literary influences + amak (colloquial Malay for “mother”).  So alamak! (Literally “oh, mother!”) is understood as an exclamatory construction expressing surprise, alarm, or dismay and in that it may be thought functionally similar to English expressions such as “oh dear!” or “oh my!” or “oh goodness!”, such fragments doubtless parts of just about every language, serving as “polite” or “socially acceptable” ways of expressing emotions other “oh xxx!” forms do in earthier, more vulgar ways (in English there are more than a dozen of these).  The Malay use is thought probably to have originated as a contracted form of Al(lah) (God) +‎ mak (mother) with the Arabic al- (“the”) an “official” substitute element to avoid using the name of God for a purpose which might in some circumstances have been judged “a profanity or blasphemy”.  There may have been some Portuguese influence (from the common expression Kristang alamah (Mother of God) or even the Christian expression “Mary, mother of God” but modern Malaysian scholars have suggested the Malay term may be contracted from the Arabic اللَّهُ مَعَكَ (al-lahu maʕaka), a traditional phrase meaning “May God be with you”.  Whatever the origin, it survived into the modern era as an exclamation or expression of alarm about a problem, error or crisis.

Four star system (cosmology).

Gamma Andromedae is a multiple star system in the northern constellation of Andromeda and the third-brightest in the constellation, after Alpheratz and Mirach; it is some 390 light-years distant from Earth.  Believed by the astronomers of Antiquity to be a single star, using the more advanced telescopes which had become available, German physicist Johann Tobias Mayer (1752–1830) in 1778 determined the object to be a “double star system”, the brighter member, Andromedae the “primary” component and thus designated Andromedae A (officially “Almach”), used as the traditional name of the whole system seen by the naked eye as a single object.  The fainter secondary was called Andromedae B and it was only later (when optics improved further) that Andromedae was observed to be “triple system” and what appears to the naked eye as a “single star” is thus a “four star system”.  That compelled the the renaming of Andromedae B to Andromedae Ba & Andromedae Bb.

Four star system (Hollywood).

The Mean Girls (2004) crew (Regina George (Rachel McAdams, b 1978)), Gretchen Wieners (Lacey Chabert, b 1982)), Karen Smith (Amanda Seyfried, b 1985)) and Cady Heron (Lindsay Lohan, b 1986)), pictured at the 2005 MTV Movie Awards ceremony.  Barbara “Barbra” Streisand (b 1942) starred in the movie Funny Girl (1968) and, after completing the sequel (Funny Lady (1975)), joked that in a few decades she expected to hear from Columbia Pictures “…offering her the title role in Funny Old Hag.”  Whether there will be a Mean Ladies isn’t known but one day, definitely there should be a Mean Old Hags.

Four star system (military).

Portrait of General George S. Patton (1945), oil on canvas by Boleslaw Jan Czedekowski (1885-1969), National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, Washington DC.  Four star US Army General George Patton (1885-1945) was steeped in military history and thought in millennialist terms.  During World War II (1939-1945) thought of the Germans as “the Prussians” and the Soviets as the “the Mongols”.  After the war ended, so concerned was the US State Department about General Patton’s openly expressed hostility towards the Soviet Union they feared he might do something which would trigger conflict; even if brief and localized, that would have been unwelcome so the diplomats asked the Army to have their psychiatrists “keep a discrete eye on him”.  Patton was seriously injured in a traffic accident early in December 1945, dying some two weeks later.

The use of “star” to describe the hierarchy of senior military ranks is now well-established and is useful for those not well-acquainted with the nomenclature.  For example a three star (lieutenant) general out-ranks a two star (major) general by a grade despite a major out-ranking a lieutenant by two notches.  The reasons for the apparent anomaly are historic but is an indication why for non-experts it easier to “think stars” than titles.  Surprisingly, in the United States military, the system was finalized only this century and prior to 1944, the matter of stars and titles for generals had been a little confused, the whole order of precedence in the army since the Declaration of Independence only properly codified with some retrospective creations in 1976 and 2024.  Historically, the most senior rank in the US Army had been lieutenant general and it was as one George Washington (1732–1799; first POTUS, 1789-1797) retired from the military.  The first major change came in the post Civil War (1861-1865) era when the rank of “General of the Army” was gazetted and while nominally a four star appointment, structurally, it was the equivalent of what would in 1944 be formalized as five star rank.  However, in 1866, the significance of the title “General of the Army” was it reflected the appointee being the general with authority over the whole army which meant there could be only ever be one in active service.  In other words, that meant the four star general was commander-in-chief of the army and the paperwork had years earlier been prepared for Washington to be raised thus but this was never done because of concern among lawyers it might set a precedent and be seen to impinge upon a president’s authority as commander in chief.  Indeed, although later the US military would use titles such as “Commander in Chief, US Pacific Command”, Donald Rumsfeld (1932–2021: US defense secretary 1975-1977 & 2001-2006) in 2002 ended the practice (and use of the acronym CINC) by re-asserting there was in the US: “only one commander in chief in America - the president”, spelled out in Article II, Section 2 of the US Constitution: “The President shall be Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States, and of the Militia of the several States, when called into the actual Service of the United States."  The matter of civilian authority over the military was one of the founding principles of the republic.

The next change came when General John "Black Jack" Pershing (1860–1948) who had commanded the US expeditionary forces in World War I (1914-1918) was appointed to the then unique rank of General of the Armies of the United States.  At the time, the war was known as the "World War" (a suggestion by Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; POTUS 1913-1921)), the vast and bloody conflict already regarded as “the war to end all wars” and the feeling was the conflict had in scale and awfulness been unique so some special recognition was deserved.  Pershing however remained a four star general and confusingly, when the spate of five star appointments was made between 1944-1950, the old wording “General of the Army” was revived with the pecking order based on the gazetted date of appointment to the rank which no longer implied an individual having authority over the entire army.  There have since been no five star creations (although many other armies have continued to appoint field marshals which is the equivalent).  In the US, some historians and many in the military fretted over the untidiness of it all and in 1976, George Washington formerly was gazetted “General of the Armies of the United States with rank and precedence over all other grades of the Army, past or present”, meaning he will for all time be the US Army’s senior officer.

1995 Mercedes-Benz E 320 Cabriolet (A124) in Polar White over Black Leather with 16 inch Alamak wheels.  The A124 (1992-1997) was a variant of the W124 (1985-1995) and was the factory's first four-seat cabriolet since the W111 (1961-1971).    

The Alamak wheel design by Mercedes-Benz is also sometime referred as the “8-hole” which is accurate, if brutish.  The name comes from the alternative spelling of the common name for Gamma Andromedae and is one of a number of examples of the factory turning to the lexicon of cosmology to dub wheel designs, others in the celestial theme including Adharaz (a star in Canis Major), Alcor (a star in Ursa Major), Mizar (a star in Ursa Major) and Toliman (Alpha Centauri).  The Alamaks were most often fitted to the W126 (1976-1991), W201 (1982-1993), W124 (1985-1997), R129 (1989-2001) and W140 (1991-1999) ranges.  Among students of such things the Alamaks were thought among the factory’s most accomplished designs (some of what followed, notably on the W210 (1994-2003) were inexplicably ugly) but dissenting from the admirers were the AMG fanboys who, whenever possible, sought to replace the Alamaks fitted to the early build 500 E models (1991-1995) with some flavour of AMG’s Monoblock wheels, a design which attracted a cult-like following.   Late in the run of the R129, a less aesthetically pleasing variant of the Alamak’s theme appeared as the Albireo, a "six-hole" design; they were fitted as standard equipment on Silver Arrow edition R129s.  Albireo is a double star system in the Constellation Cygnus.

Nail

Nail (pronounced neyl)

(1) A slender, typically rod-shaped rigid piece of metal, usually in many lengths and thicknesses, having (usually) one end pointed and the other (usually) enlarged or flattened, and used for hammering into or through wood, concrete or other materials; in the building trades the most common use is to fasten or join together separate pieces (of timber etc).

(2) In anatomy, a thin, horny plate, consisting of modified epidermis, growing on the upper side of the end of a finger or toe; the toughened protective protein-keratin (known as alpha-keratin, also found in hair) at the end of an animal digit, such as fingernail.

(3) In zoology, the basal thickened portion of the anterior wings of certain hemiptera; the basal thickened portion of the anterior wings of certain hemiptera; the terminal horny plate on the beak of ducks, and other allied birds; the claw of a mammal, bird, or reptile.

(4) Historically, in England, a round pedestal on which merchants once carried out their business.

(5) A measure for a length for cloth, equal to 2¼ inches (57 mm) or 1⁄20 of an ell; 1⁄16 of a yard (archaic); it’s assumed the origin lies in the use to mark that length on the end of a yardstick.

(6) To fasten with a nail or nails; to hemmer in a nail.

(7) To enclose or confine (something) by nailing (often followed by up or down).

(8) To make fast or keep firmly in one place or position (also used figuratively).

(8) Perfectly to accomplish something (usually as “nailed it”).

(9) In vulgar slang, of a male, to engage in sexual intercourse with (as “I nailed her” or (according to Urban Dictionary: “I nailed the bitch”).

(10) In law enforcement, to catch a suspect or find them in possession of contraband or engaged in some unlawful conduct (usually as “nailed them”).

(11) In Christianity, as “the nails”, the relics used in the crucifixion, nailing Christ to the cross at Golgotha.

(12) As a the nail (unit), an archaic multiplier equal to one sixteenth of a base unit

(13) In drug slang, a hypodermic needle, used for injecting drugs.

(14) To detect and expose (a lie, scandal, etc)

(15) In slang, to hit someone.

(16) In slang, intently to focus on someone or something.

(17) To stud with or as if with nails.

Pre 900: From the Middle English noun nail & nayl, from the Old English nægl and cognate with the Old Frisian neil, the Old Saxon & Old High German nagal, the Dutch nagel, the German Nagel, the Old Norse nagl (fingernail), all of which were from the unattested Germanic naglaz.  As a derivative, it was akin to the Lithuanian nãgas & nagà (hoof), the Old Prussian nage (foot), the Old Church Slavonic noga (leg, foot), (the Serbo-Croatian nòga, the Czech noha, the Polish noga and the Russian nogá, all of which were probably originally a jocular reference to the foot as “a hoof”), the Old Church Slavonic nogŭtĭ, the Tocharian A maku & Tocharian B mekwa (fingernail, claw), all from the unattested North European Indo-European ənogwh-.  It was further akin to the Old Irish ingen, the Welsh ewin and the Breton ivin, from the unattested Celtic gwhīnā, the Latin unguis (fingernail, claw), from the unattested Italo-Celtic əngwhi-;the Greek ónyx (stem onych-), the Sanskrit ághri- (foot), from the unattested ághli-; the Armenian ełungn from the unattested onogwh-;the Middle English verbs naile, nail & nayle, the Old English næglian and cognate with the Old Saxon neglian, the Old High German negilen, the Old Norse negla, from the unattested Germanic nagl-janan (the Gothic was ganagljan).  The ultimate source was the primitive Indo-European h₃nog- (nail) and the use to describe the metal fastener was from the Middle English naylen, from the Old English næġlan & nægl (fingernail (handnægl)) & negel (tapering metal pin), from the Proto-Germanic naglaz (source also of Old Norse nagl (fingernail) & nagli (metal nail).  Nail is a noun & verb, nailernailless & naillike are adjectives, renail is a verbs, nailing is a noun & vern and nailed is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is nails.

Nail is modified or used as a modifier in literally dozens of examples including finger-nail, toe-nail, nail-brush, nail-file, rusty-nail, garden-nail, nail-fungus, nail-gun & frost-nail.  In idiomatic use, a “nail in one's coffin” is a experience or event that tends to shorten life or hasten the end of something (applied retrospectively (ie post-mortem) it’s usually in the form “final nail in the coffin”.  To be “hard as nails” is either to be “in a robust physical state” or “lacking in human feelings or without sentiment”. To “nail one's colors to the mast” is to declare one’s position on something.  Something described as “better than a poke in the eye with a rusty nail” is a thing, which while not ideal, is not wholly undesirable or without charm.  In financial matters (of payments), to be “on the nail” is to “pay at once”, often in the form “pay on the nail”.  To “nail something down” is to finalize it. To have “nailed it” is “to perfectly have accomplished something” while “nailed her” indicates “having enjoyed sexual intercourse with her”.  The “right” in the phrase “hit the nail right on the head” is a more recent addition, all known instances of use prior to 1700 being “hit the nail on the head” and the elegant original is much preferred.  It’s used to mean “correctly identify something or exactly to arrive at the correct answer”.  Interestingly, the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes there is no documentary evidence that the phrase comes from “nail” in the sense of the ting hit by a hammer.

Double-headed nails.

Double-headed nails are used for temporary structures like fencing.  When the shaft is hammered in to the point where the surface of the lower head is flat against the surface of that into which it's being hammered, it leaves the upper head standing proud with just enough of the shaft exposed to allow a claw-hammer to be used to extract nail.  There is a story that as part of an environmental protest against the building or demolition of some structure (the tales vary), activists early one morning went to the temporary fencing around the contested site and hammered in all the double-headed nails.  This is believed to be an urban myth.

The sense of “fingernail” appears to be the original which makes sense give there were fingernails before there were spikes (of metal or any other material) used to build stuff.  The verb nail was from the Old English næglian (to fix or fasten (something) onto (something else) with nails), from the Proto-Germanic ganaglijan (the source also of the Old Saxon neglian, the Old Norse negla, the Old High German negilen, the German nageln and the Gothic ganagljan (to nail), all developed from the root of the nouns.  The colloquial meaning “secure, succeed in catching or getting hold of (someone or something)” was in use by at least the 1760; hence (hence the law enforcement slang meaning “to effect an arrest”, noted since the 1930s.  The meaning “to succeed in hitting” dates from 1886 while the phrase “to nail down” (to fix in place with nails) was first recorded in the 1660s.

Colors: Lindsay Lohan with nails unadorned and painted.

As a noun, “nail-biter” (worrisome or suspenseful event), perhaps surprisingly, seems not to have been in common use until 1999 an it’s applied to things from life-threatening situations to watching close sporting contests.  The idea of nail-biting as a sign of anxiety has been in various forms of literature since the 1570s, the noun nail-biting noted since 1805 and as a noun it was since the mid-nineteenth century applied to those individuals who “habitually or compulsively bit their fingernails” although this seems to have been purely literal rather than something figurative of a mental state.  Now, a “nail-biter” is one who is “habitually worried or apprehensive” and they’re often said to be “chewing the ends of their fingernails” and in political use, a “nail biter” is a criticism somewhat less cutting than “bed-wetter”.  The condition of compulsive nail-biting is the noun onychophagia, the construct being onycho- (a creation of the international scientific vocabulary), reflecting a New Latin combining form, from the Ancient Greek ὄνυξ (ónux) (claw, nail, hoof, talon) +‎ -phagia (eating, biting or swallowing), from the Ancient Greek -φαγία (-phagía).  A related form was -φαγος (-phagos) (eater), the suffix corresponding to φαγεῖν (phageîn) (to eat), the infinitive of ἔφαγον (éphagon) (I eat), which serves as aorist (essentially a compensator for sense-shifts) (for the defective verb ἐσθίω (esthíō) (I eat).  Bitter-tasting nail-polish is available for those who wish to cure themselves.  Nail-polish as a product dates from the 1880s and was originally literally a clear substance designed to give the finger or toe-nails a varnish like finish upon being buffed.  By 1884, it was being sold as “liquid nail varnish” including shads of black, pink and red although surviving depictions in art suggests men and women in various cultures have for thousands of years been coloring their nails.  Nail-files (small, flat, single-cut file for trimming the fingernails) seem first to have been sold in 1819 and nail-clippers (hand-tool used to trim the fingernails and toenails) in 1890.

Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) at the funeral of Cardinal George Pell (1941-2023), St Peter’s Basilica, the Vatican, January 2023.

The expression "nail down the lid" is a reference to the lid of a coffin (casket), the implication being one wants to make doubly certain anyone within can't possible "return from the dead".  The noun doornail (also door-nail) (large-headed nail used for studding batten doors for strength or ornament) emerged in the late fourteenth century and was often used of many large, thick nails with a large head, not necessarily those used only in doors.  The figurative expression “dead as a doornail” seems to be as old as the piece of hardware and use soon extended to “dumb as a doornail” and “deaf as a doornail).  The noun hangnail (also hang-nail) is a awful as it sounds and describes a “sore strip of partially detached flesh at the side of a nail of the finger or toe” and appears in seventeenth century texts although few etymologists appear to doubt it’s considerably older and probably a folk etymology and sense alteration of the Middle English agnail & angnail (corn on the foot), from the Old English agnail & angnail.  The origin is likely to have been literally the “painful spike” in the flesh when suffering the condition.  The first element was the Proto-Germanic ang- (compressed, hard, painful), from the primitive Indo-European root angh- (tight, painfully constricted, painful); the second the Old English nægl (spike), one of the influences on “nail”.  The noun hobnail was a “short, thick nail with a large head” which dates from the 1590s, the first element probably identical with hob (rounded peg or pin used as a mark or target in games (noted since the 1580s)) of unknown origin.  Because hobnails were hammered into the leather soles of heavy boots and shoes, “hobnail” came in the seventeenth century to be used of “a rustic person” though it was though less offensive than forms like “yokel”.

Nails and pins

Mug shot “pin” from TeePublic featuring Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, left), Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) and Paris Hilton (b 1981, right).  In this context, although the product really is “the badge”, the name was gained from the built-in pin supplied to secure the object to clothing.

As designs, a nail and a pin are similar, obviously differing only in scale but the function of each is different.  A nail’s primary purpose is to function as a structural fastener joining materials (most typically two or more pieces of wood) although there are specialized nails driven into substrate by impact (variously with hammers or nail guns (sometimes called “pin-nailers”, some of which are built to fire “panel pins” (very slender nails) or small “headless nails”).  A nail relies on friction and compression in the surrounding material for its holding strength.  Pins look like scaled-down nails but mostly are used for alignment, retention or pivoting, rather than structural load-bearing.  Because of their more delicate construction, pins often are inserted through specific-purpose, pre-existing holes and in many cases are intended to be temporary and are thus removable.  Visually, both nails and pins have heads (round, flat, clipped etc) and a tapered shank with a tip pointed for pointed tip for penetration (“snub-nosed” nails do exist but are rare) and both are designed slightly to deform the surrounding material when driven.  The most obvious difference is that a pin’s head is very small and some are spherical and made from plastic; they’re designed only to be pushed with finger-pressure rather than being hit with a hammer.  Although the term “pin” is used for some specialized devices used in building and engineering (dowel pin, pivot pin, gudgeon pin (also as wrist pin), roll pin, cotter pin etc), the word is most associated with the tailor’s pin (used mostly in textiles and usually clipped to “pin”).  In jewelry design and textiles there are also variants including the “lapel pin” and the fashion industry’s device of last resort, the “safety pin”.

Pinhead in publicity shot for Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth (1992).

Clive Barker's (b 1952) supernatural horror movie Hellraiser (1987) was based on his novella The Hellbound Heart (1986) and was a surprise hit, making it a franchise which has thus far spawned nine sequels, the most recent released in 2022.  The plot involved a mysterious puzzle box that, when opened, summoned the Cenobites, a group of extra-dimensional, sadomasochistic beings unable to differentiate between pain and pleasure.  It was a good premise for a horror movie but the character who really captured the audience's imagination was the unnamed figure viewers dubbed “Pinhead”.  Although Pinhead appeared in the original film for fewer than ten minutes, the character became the franchise’s focal point and has since dominated the publicity material for subsequent releases.  The popularity of Hellraiser has been maintained and it’s hoped that for the next release the producers will offer the part to Peter Dutton (b 1970; leader of the Liberal Party of Australia 2022-2025).

Peter Dutton captured by a photographer during a happy moment (left), Pinhead with the box able to summon the Cenobites (centre) and and artist's depiction of Mr Dutton in “Pinhead mode” (digitally altered image, right).

No longer burdened with tiresome parliamentary duties since losing his seat in the 2025 Australian general election, Mr Dutton has time for a third career and he should be good at playing an unsmiling character who speaks in a relentless monotone; really, all he need do is act naturally.  It’s suspected also he’ll be good at learning a script given the decades he spent parroting “talking points” and TWS (three word slogans).  While it’s an urban myth Mr Dutton wasn’t offered the part of Lord Voldemort in the Harry Potter movie franchise because he was deemed “too scary”, as Pinhead he’d be “just scary enough”.  While the LNP (Liberal National Party) state government in Queensland recently has appointed Mr Dutton to the board of the QIC (Queensland Investment Corporation, the investment manager of the state’s Aus$135 billion in assets), it’s understood his duties in the Aus$130,000 per annum role will be neither onerous or time-consuming so there’ll be ample opportunity for film-shoots.  Although when in opposition the LNP had decried the ALP (Australian Labor Party) government’s frequent appointment of ALP figures to lucrative sinecures, once in office the LNP continued the “jobs for the boys” tradition.  In the modern era, the two most striking characteristics of right-wing fanatics is (1) a fondness for sitting safely in a bunker while advocating for (and sometimes sending) other people's children to go a fight a war somewhere and (2) after a career spent extolling the virtues of “private enterprise” and criticizing “government waste”, being anxious to get back on the public payroll as soon as their political careers end.  Reassuringly for taxpayers who may have been worried Mr Dutton would not be able to continue to enjoy the lifestyle to which their taxes made him accustomed (“entitled” as he might have put it), it’s believed his director’s fees from QIC will not affect his parliamentary pension (understood to be between Aus$260,000-Aus$280,000 per annum).

The Buick Nailhead

In the 1930s, the straight-8 became a favorite for manufacturers of luxury cars, attracted by its ease of manufacture (components and assembly-line tooling able to be shared with those used to produce a straight-6), the mechanical smoothness inherent in the layout and the ease of maintenance afforded by the long, narrow configuration, ancillary components readily accessible.  However, the limitations were the relatively slow engine speeds imposed by the need to restrict the “crankshaft flex” and the height of the units, a product of the long strokes used to gain the required displacement.  By the 1950s, it was clear the future lay in big-bore, overhead valve V8s although the Mercedes-Benz engineers, unable to forget the glory days of the 1930s when the straight-eight W125s built for the Grand Prix circuits generated power and speed Formula One wouldn’t see until the 1980s, noted the relatively small 2.5 litre (153 cubic inch) displacement limit for 1954 and conjured up a final fling for the layout.  Used in both Formula One as the W196R and in sports car racing as the W196S (better remembered as the 300 SLR) the new 2.5 & 3.0 litre (183 cubic inch) straight-8s, unlike their pre-war predecessors, solved the issue of crankshaft flex (the W196's redline was 9500 compared with the W125's 5800) by locating the power take-off at the centre, adding mechanical fuel-injection and a desmodromic valve train to make the things an exotic cocktail of ancient & modern (on smooth racetracks and in the hands of skilled drivers, the swing axles at the back not the liability they might sound).  Dominant during 1954-1955 in both Formula One & the World Sports Car Championship, they were the last of the straight-8s in top-line competition.

Schematic of Buick “Nailhead” V8, 1953-1966.

Across the Atlantic, the US manufacturers also abandoned their straight-8s.  Buick introduced their overhead valve (OHV) V8 in 1953 but, being much wider than before, the new engine had to be slimmed somewhere to fit between the existing inner-fenders (it would not be until later the platform was widened).  To achieve this, the engineers narrowed the cylinder heads, compelling both a conical (the so-called “pent-roof”) combustion chamber and an arrangement in which the sixteen valves pointed directly upwards on the intake side, something which not only demanded an unusual pushrod & rocker mechanism but also limited the size of the valves.  So, the valves had to be tall and narrow and, with some resemblance to nails, they picked up the nickname “nail valves”, morphing eventually to “nailhead” as a description of the whole engine.  The valve placement and angle certainly benefited the intake side but the geometry compromised the flow of exhaust gases which were compelled by their anyway small ports to make a turn of almost 180^o on their way to the tailpipe.  As an indication of the heat-soak generated by that 180^o turn, the surrounding water passages were very wide. 

It wasn't the last time the head design of a Detroit V8 would be dictated by considerations of width.  When Chrysler in 1964 introduced the 273 cubic inch (4.5 litre) V8 as the first of its LA-Series (that would begat the later 318 (5.2), 340 (5.5) & 360 (5.9) as well as the V10 made famous in the Dodge Viper), the most obvious visual difference from the earlier A-Series V8s was the noticeably smaller cylinder heads.  The A engines used as skew-type valve arrangement in which the exhaust valve was parallel to the bore with the intake valve tipped toward the intake manifold (the classic polyspherical chamber).  For the LA, Chrysler rendered all the valves tipped to the intake manifold and in-line (as viewed from the front), the industry’s standard approach to a wedge combustion chamber.  The reason for the change was that the decision had been taken to offer the compact Valiant with a V8 but it was a car which had been designed to accommodate only a straight-six and the wide-shouldered polyspheric head A-Series V8s simply wouldn’t fit.  So, essentially, wedge-heads were bolted atop the old A-Series block but the “L” in LA stood for light and the engineers wanted something genuinely lighter for the compact (in contemporary US terms) Valiant.  Accordingly, in addition to the reduced size of the heads and intake manifold, a new casting process was developed for the block (the biggest, heaviest part of an engine) which made possible thinner walls.  "Light" is however a relative term and the LA series was notably larger and heavier than Ford's "Windsor" V8 (1961-2000) which was the exemplar of the "thin-wall" technique.  This was confirmed in 1967 when, after taking control of Rootes Group, Chrysler had intended to continue production of the Sunbeam Tiger, by then powered by the Ford Windsor 289 (4.7 litre) but with Chrysler’s 273 LA V8 substituted.  Unfortunately, while 4.7 Ford litres filled it to the brim, 4.4 Chrysler litres overflowed; the Windsor truly was compact.  Allowing it to remain in production until the stock of already purchased Ford engines had been exhausted, Chrysler instead changed the advertising from emphasizing the “…mighty Ford V8 power plant” to the vaguely ambiguous “…an American V-8 power train”.

322 cubic inch Nailhead in 1953 Buick Skylark convertible (left) and 425 cubic inch Nailhead in 1966 Buick Riviera GS (with dual-quad MZ package, right).  Note the “Wildcat 465” label on the air cleaner, a reference to the claimed torque rating, something most unusual, most manufacturers using the space to advertise horsepower or cubic inch displacement (CID).

The nailhead wasn’t ideal for producing top-end power but the design did generate prodigious low-end torque, something much appreciated by Buick's previous generation of buyers who much had relished the low-speed responsiveness of the famously smooth straight-8.  However, like everybody else, Buick hadn’t anticipated that as the 1950s unfolded, the industry would engage in a “power race”, something to which the free-breathing Cadillac V8s and Chrysler’s Hemis were well-suited.  For that, the somewhat strangulated Buick Nailhead was not at all suited and to gain power the engineers were compelled to add high-lift, long-duration camshafts which enabled the then magic 300 HP (horsepower) number to be achieved but at the expense of smoothness; tales of Buick buyers (long accustomed to straight-8s that ran so smoothly at idle it could be hard to tell if the things were running) returning to the dealer to fix the “rumpity-rump” became legion.  Still, the Nailhead was robust, relatively light and offered what was then a generous displacement and the ever inventive hot-rod community soon worked out the path to power was to use forced induction and invert the valve use, the supercharger blowing the fuel-air mix into the combustion chambers through the exhaust ports while the exhaust gases were evacuated through the larger intake ports.  Thus, for a while, the Nailhead enjoyed a role as a niche player although the arrival in the mid 1950s of the much more tuneable Chevrolet V8s ended the vogue for all but a few devotees who continued use well into the 1960s.  Buick acknowledged reality and, unusually, instead of following the industry trend and drawing attention to displacement & power, publicized their big torque numbers, confusing some (though probably not Buick buyers who were a loyal crew who sometimes would look down on more expensive Cadillacs because they were "flashy").  The unique appearance of the old Nailhead retains some nostalgic appeal for the modern hot-rod community and they do sometimes appear, a welcome change from the more typical small-block Fords or Chevrolets.

Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird (1964-1999).

Not confused about numbers was the USAF (United States Air Force) which was much interested in power for its aircraft but also had a special need for torque on the tarmac and briefly that meant another quirky niche for the Nailhead.  The Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird (1964-1979) was a long-range, high-altitude supersonic (Mach 3+) aircraft used by the USAF for reconnaissance between 1966-1998 and by the NASA (National Aeronautics & Space Administration) for observation missions as late as 1999.  Something of a high-water mark among the extraordinary advances made in aeronautics and materials construction during the Cold War, the SR-71 used Pratt & Whitney J58 turbojet engines which featured an innovative, secondary air-injection system for the afterburner, permitting additional thrust at high speed.  The SR-71 still holds a number of altitude and speed records and Lockheed’s SR-72, a hypersonic unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) is said to be in an “advanced stage” of design and construction although whether any test flights will be conducted before 2030 remains unclear, the challenges of sustaining in the atmosphere velocities as high as Mach 6+ onerous given the heat generated and stresses imposed by the the fluid dynamics of air at high speed.

Drawing from user manual for AG330 starter cart (left) and AG330 starter cart with dual Buick Nailhead V8s (right).

At the time, the SR-71 was the most exotic aircraft on the planet but during testing and early in its career, just for the engines to start it relied on a pair of even then technologically bankrupt Buick Nailhead V8s.  These were mounted in a towed cart and were effectively the turbojet’s starter motor, a concept developed in the 1930s as a work-around for the technology gap which emerged as the V12 aero-engines became too big to start by hand but lacked on-board electrical systems to trigger ignition.  The two Nailheads were connected by gears to a single, vertical drive shaft which ran the jet up to the critical speed at which ignition became self-sustaining.  The engineers chose the Nailheads after comparing them to other large displacement V8s, the aspect of the Buicks which most appealed being the torque generated at relatively low engine speeds, a characteristic ideal for driving an output shaft, torque best visualized as a "twisting" force.  After the Nailhead was retired in 1966, later carts used Chevrolet big-block V8s but in 1969 a pneumatic start system was added to the infrastructure of the USAF bases from which the SR-71s most frequently operated, the sixteen-cylinder carts relegated to secondary fields the planes rarely used.

Targa

Targa (pronounced ta-gah)

(1) A model name trade-marked by Porsche AG in 1966.

(2) In casual use, a generic description of cars with a removable roof panel between the windscreen and a truncated roof structure ahead of the rear window.

1966 (in the context of the Porsche): From the Targa Florio race in Sicily, first run in 1906 and last staged in its classic form in 1973.  In many European languages, targa (or derivatives) existed and most were related to the Proto-Germanic targǭ (edge), from the primitive Indo-European dorg- (edge, seam), from the Old Norse targa (small round shield) and the Old High German zarga (edge, rim).  The modern Italian targa (plate, shingle; name-plate; number plate or license plate; plaque; signboard; target (derived from the rounded oval or rectangle shield used in medieval times)) was ultimately from the Frankish targa (shield).  In the Old English targa (a light shield) was also from the Proto-Germanic targǭ and was cognate with the Old Norse targa and the Old High German zarga (source of the German Zarge); it was the source of the Modern English target.  The Proto-Germanic targǭ dates from the twelfth century and “target” in the sense of “round object to be aimed at in shooting” emerged in the mid eighteenth century and was used originally in archery.  Targa is a noun; the noun plural is targas.

1974 Leyland P76 Targa Florio in Omega Navy, Aspen Green & Nutmeg (without the side graphics).  Like all P76s, the Targa Florio effortlessly could fit a a 44 (imperial) gallon (53 US gallon; 205 litre) in its trunk (boot) and while it's unlikely many buyers took advantage of this, it was an indication of the impressive capacity.  The reputed ability to handle fours sets of golf clubs was probably more of a selling point but unfortunately, as the P76's rapid demise might suggest, there just weren't that many golfers. 

Although, especially when fitted with the 4.4 litre (269 cubic inch) V8, it was in many ways at least as good as the competition, the Australian designed and built Leyland P76 is remembered as the Antipodean Edsel: a total failure.  It was doomed by poor build quality, indifferent dealer support and the misfortune of being a big (in local terms) car introduced just before the first oil shock hit and the world economy sunk into the severe recession which marked the end of the long, post war boom.  It vanished in 1975, taking with it Leyland Australia's manufacturing capacity but did have one quixotic moment of glory, setting the fastest time on Special Stage 8 of the 1974 London–Sahara–Munich World Cup Rally held on the historic Targa Florio course in Palermo, Sicily (in the rally, the P76 finished a creditable 13^th).  The big V8 machine out-paced the field by several minutes and to mark the rare success, Leyland Australia built 488 "Targa Florio" versions.  Available in Omega Navy, Aspen Green or Nutmeg (a shade of brown which seemed to stalk the 1970s), the special build was mechanically identical to other V8 P76 Supers with automatic transmission but did include a sports steering wheel and aluminium road wheels, both intended for the abortive Force 7, a two-door version which was ungainly but did offer the functionality of a hatchback.  In a typical example of Leyland Australia's (and that of British Leyland generally) ineptitude, the Force 7 was being developed just as the other local manufacturers were in about to drop their larger two-doors, demand having dwindled after a brief vogue.  Only 10 of the 60-odd prototype Force 7V coupés survived the crusher but even had the range survived beyond 1974, success would have been improbable although the company should be commended for having intended to name the luxury version the Tour de Force (from the French and translated literally as "feat of strength"), the irony charming although En dépit de tout (In spite of everything) might better have capture the moment. 

Except for those which (usually) stick to numbers or alpha-numeric strings (Mercedes-Benz the classic example), coming up with a name for a car can be a tricky business, especially if someone objects.  In 1972, Ford of England was taken to court by Granada Television after choosing to call their new car a “Granada” though the judge gave the argument short shrift, pointing out (1) it was unlikely anyone would confuse a car with a TV channel and (2) neither the city nor the province of Granada in Spain’s Andalusia region had in 1956 complained when the name was adopted for the channel.  The suit was thrown out and the Ford Granada went on to such success the parent company in the US also used the name.

Spot the difference.  1966 Ford Mustang Fastback (left) and 1966 Ford T-5 Fastback (right).

In Cologne, Ford’s German outpost in 1964 had less success with names when trying to sell the Mustang in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany, 1949-1990)) because Krupp AG held (until December 31 1978) exclusive rights to the name which it used on a range of heavy trucks, some of which were built as fire engines.  A truck couldn't be confused with a Mustang although there might have been some snobby types among the French who claimed to see some resemblance.  That would have been in the tradition of Ettore Bugatti's (1881–1947) observation in 1928 the powerful, sturdy, eponymous machines of W. O. Bentley (1888–1971) were the “world’s fastest trucks” and it was a comparison between the brutishness of those 6½ litre (actually a 6.6 (403 cubic inch) straight-six monsters with the elegant delicacy of his 2.3 litre (138 cubic inch) straight-eights which stirred his thoughts.  The gulf in 1967 between a Mustang and something like the (conceptually, vaguely similar) Renault Caravelle (1958-1968, which never grew beyond 1.1 litres (68 cubic inch)) was perhaps not so wide but would, in some French imaginations, been vivid.  Ford’s legal advice apparently was that under FRG trademark law, Kreidler AG held the rights to use the “Mustang” name for “two-wheeled vehicles” (ie motor-cycles) while Krupp AG enjoyed the same for “four-wheeled vehicles”, the act making no distinction between passenger cars and heavy trucks.  From his tomb, W.O. Bentley may have felt vindicated.

Understandably, Ford’s legal advice was to settle rather than sue so negotiations began with Ford making clear to Krupp and Kreidler it wasn't seeking exclusivity of use in the FRG and was happy for Mustang trucks and motor-cycles to continue in production.  The two German concerns responded with an offer to “share” their rights for a one-off payment of US$10,000 (in 1965, on the US West Coast, the list price for a Porsche 911 was around US$6,500) which Ford declined.  Given trucks are sold on the basis of factors like price, functionality and cost of operation rather than an abstraction like the name, why the Krupp board didn't make an effort to take advantage of what would have been good (and free) publicity seems not to be publicly available but negotiations were at that point sundered and until 1979 Mustangs in the FRG were sold as the “T-5” or “T5”.  Almost identical to the US version but for the badges and a few pieces of “localization”, the re-designated Mustang was in the 1960s one of the most popular US cars sold in Europe, aided by the then attractive US$-Deutsche Mark exchange rate and its availability in military PX (Post Exchange) stores, service personnel able to buy at a discount and subsequently have the car shipped back to the US at no cost; the system was retained (of the 4,000-odd Mustangs sold outside North America in 2012, nearly one in four was through military channels).

The badges: As they appeared on the early (1964-1966) Mustangs in most of the world (left), the T-5 badge used on early Mustangs sold in Germany (centre) and the (non-hyphenated) T5 used in Germany between 1967 and 1979 when the last was sold.

Ford also had difficulties with the FRG registration authorities.  When first made available in 1964, the T-5 was actually a standard (US-specification) Mustang with the required parts in a “T-5 Kit”, supplied in boxes in the trunk (boot) and ready to be installed by the dealer.  That approach was in the US used for a number of purposes (notably high performance parts such as multiple carburetors and the requisite manifold) but the German authorities weren’t amused and insisted all this had to be done on a production-line, explaining why all but the earliest T-5s were produced in batches.  Visually, the changes which distinguished a T-5 from a Mustang were slight and included (1) wheel covers with a plain black centre. (2) the word “Mustang” being removed from horn ring & gas (petrol) cap, metric graduations on certain instruments (such as odometers & speedometers which measured kilometres rather than miles) and (3) a “T-5” badge replacing the “Mustang” script on the flanks.  Other than these cosmetic items, mechanical changes were limited to suspension settings (including adding the shock-tower cross-brace fitted to the Shelby GT350s) better to handle continental roads and the fitting of European-specification lighting.  Curiously, although Ford obviously didn’t make much effort when coming up with the “T-5” name (it was the project code during the Mustang's development in Detroit), it did create a “T-5” badge (part number C5ZZ-6325622A) to replace the “Mustang” script on the front fenders and it was thought necessary later to do a re-design, the new one (part number CZZ-16098C) dropping the hyphen and placing the centred characters vertically.  Apparently content, the new badge was used until 1978 when Krupp’s copyright expired and the Mustang’s badges became global.  As was common, there were also running changes, a dash bezel above the glove box (with the T5 designation) introduced during 1967 and continued the next year while the 1971 range received a new dash emblem which sat in the centre, above the radio and heater controls.  However, anyone driving or sitting in a T5, unless expert in such things or unusually observant, probably wouldn’t have noticed the car was in any way different from a Mustang of that vintage.  Although the records are in places sketchy (and occasionally contradictory), the consensus is between 1964-1973, some 3,500 T5s or T-5s were produced.

Scenes from Rote Sonne (1970, promotional poster, centre): A 1966 Ford T5 (left) and some of the cast (right) with a (circa 1966) Volkswagen Type 1 (Beetle).  Note the jackboots.

Directed by Rudolf Thome (b 1939), the plotline of Rote Sonne (Red Sun) revolves around four young Fräuleins (Peggy, Sylvie, Christine & Isolde) who have entered into a mortiferous pact to use their charms to lure men into their grasp as a prelude to murdering them.  Maybe the foursome had read Valerie Solanas's (1936-1988), S.C.U.M. Manifesto (1967) which, even today, is still about as terminal as feminism gets.  Although criticized as an example of the “pornography of violence” the film genuinely did fit into the contemporary feminist narratives of the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990), a place in which ripples from the street protests which swept Germany in 1968 were still being felt and it was in 1970 the terrorist collective Rote Armee Fraktion (Red Army Faction (RAF)) was formed; In the English-speaking world it’s better (if misleadingly) known as the Baader–Meinhof Gang.

Front page from the Krupp Mustang brochure (1958, left) announcing ...jetzt auch als Frontlenker (“...now also available as a forward control truck” (known in the US as the CoE (cab-over engine) configuration)) and two pages from the 1975 Ford T5 brochure (Ghia (upper right) and Mach 1 (lower right) versions).  The photography and text (in translation) in Ford’s T5 advertising followed the originals except that whereas the US agencies usually included people, for German eyes, there were only the cars.  The CoE configuration became popular because it allowed an increased load area while still complying with the maximum length limits set in many jurisdictions. 

Front cover of 1974 Ford T-5 brochure.  Unlike with the original Mustang which “didn't have a bad angle”, photographers assigned the Mustang II needed carefully to choose the aspect because if snapped unsympathetically, it could look quite gawky.

The timing of the release of the Mustang II on 21 September, 1973 (for the 1974 season) proved exquisite because on 17 October, 1973 began the geopolitical ructions which three days later would trigger the announcement by OAPEC (Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) of a “total embargo” of sales of oil to the US and certain other countries.  What following from that came to be known first as the “1973 oil crisis” before being re-named “first oil shock” after not dissimilar troubles in 1979; one way or another, the world has since been adjusting to the change.  The Mustang II, lighter, smaller and notably more energy-efficient than its predecessor (which as late as 1971 had a 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 on the option list) was the right car for the time and proved a great success, despite the traditionalists being appalled at the engine choices being initially restricted to what were (compared with what had been and what would later return) rather anaemic four & six-cylinder units.

Ford T-5 brochure, the basic coupé (left) and the 3-Türer (three door) hatchback (right).  By 1974, the US manufacturers were using the word “hardtop” more loosely than the when in the 1950s & 1960s it had been standardized to mean: “no B-pillar”.  Here, it seems to be used as a synonym of “two-door coupé” although by 1974, in the US, the term “pillared hardtop” had been coined to describe those vehicles with a B-pillar but no frames for the side windows.  The Mustang II used frameless side-windows so the use may have been a nod to that and it certainly wasn't to differentiate it from a (soft-top) convertible, that body style never offered on the model.      

On paper, the more modest dimensions and fuel consumption should have made the Mustang II more suited to the German market and Ford may have had high hopes (at least as high as homes got by the mid-1970s) but the appeal of the early Mustangs was the relatively compact (in US terms) size and the small-displacement (again, in US terms) V8s (260 & 289 cubic inch; 4.2 & 4.7 litre) making the car something of a “sweet spot” in what was a small but lucrative German niche.  In the 1960s, there was no European-made car quite like it, thus the small but devoted following enjoyed by the early T5s but the Mustang II used a template which was quasi-European and the most obvious comparison was with Ford’s own Capri II, built in Cologne and on any objective measure the Capri II was a better car than a Mustang II (T5), most Germans (an other Europeans) concluding while there were reasons to buy a Mustang, there were few to buy a Mustang II.  So good was the German Capri it was for years exported to the US where, sold by Mercury dealers, often it was the best-selling import, was withdrawn from sale after 1977 only because the strength of the Deutsch Mark (the FRG’s currency) against the US dollar rendered the project unviable.  Production numbers for the T-5s based on the Mustang II are disputed and it’s believed the total was “low three figures”, the appeal of the 1973-1978 T-5s not greatly enhanced by the addition in 1975 of an optional 4.9 litre (302 cubic inch) V8 which increased fuel consumption rather more than it improved performance.  As a footnote, Ford called the 4.9 a “5.0” to avoid confusion with their 300 cubic inch straight-six truck engine (which, like the 302, was a true 4.9).  Because the 300 wasn’t used in Australia, there the 302s (one of which was a unique “Cleveland 302”) were (after 1973 when the country switched to metric measures) badged 4.9 to provide greater market differentiation from the companion 5.8 (351) V8.

1964 Daimler (C-Specification) SP250 (née Dart) in London Metropolitan Police configuration.

The wire wheels are a later edition, all police SP250s supplied originally with steel wheels & "dog dish" hubcaps); many (non-police) SP250s have also subsequently been fitted with the wheels.  Scotland Yard purchased some 30 SP250s (all automatics) attracted by their 120+ mph (195 km/h) performance, allowing them to out-pace all but the fastest two and four-wheeled vehicles then on the road.  Police forces in Australia and New Zealand also adopted SP250s as highway patrol vehicles.

The Daimler SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the attractively alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast.  Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.  Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management also reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys.  The Dodge Dart didn't for long stay big, the name in 1964 re-used for a compact line although it was the generation made between 1967-1977 which was most successful and almost immediately Chrysler regretted the decision to cease production, the replacement range (the Dodge Aspen & Plymouth Volaré (1976-1980)) one of the industry's disasters.  The name was revived in 2012 for a new Dodge Dart, a small, front wheel drive (FWD) car which was inoffensive but dreary and lasted only until 2016.  The SP250 was less successful still, not even 3000 made between 1959-1964, something attributable to (1) the unfortunate styling, (2) the antiquated chassis, (3) the lack of development which meant there were basic flaws in the body engineering of the early versions and (4) the lack of interest by Jaguar which in 1960 had purchased Daimler, its interest in the manufacturing capacity acquired rather than the product range.  It was a shame because the SP250's exquisite 2.5 litre (155 cubic inch) V8 deserved better.  

Lindsay Lohan with Porsche 911 Targa 4 (997), West Hollywood, 2008.  The Targa was reportedly leased by her former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (b 1977).

Sometimes though, numbers could upset someone.  Even in the highly regulated EEC (European Economic Community, the origin of the European Union (EU)) of the 1960s, a company in most cases probably couldn’t claim exclusive rights to a three number sequence but Peugeot claimed exactly that when Porsche first showed their new 901 in 1963.  Asserting they possessed the sole right to sell in France car with a name constructed with three numbers if the middle digit was a zero, the French requested the Germans rename the thing.  It was the era of Franco-German cooperation and Porsche did just that, announcing the new name would be 911, a machine which went on to great things and sixty years on, remains on sale although, the lineage is obvious, only the odd nut & bolt is interchangeable between the two.  So all was well that ends well even if the French case still seems dubious because Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling in France cars labelled 200 or 300 (and would soon offer the 600). Anyway, this time, it was the project name (901) which was discarded (although it remained as the prefix on part-numbers) and surviving examples of the first 82 cars produced before the name was changed are now highly prized by collectors.

Sometimes however, the industry uses weird names for no obvious reason and some of the cars produced for the JDM (Japanese domestic market) are, to Western ears, truly bizarre though perhaps for a Japanese audience they’re compellingly cool.  Whatever might be the rationale, the Japanese manufacturers have give the world some memorable monikers including (1) from Honda the Vamios Hobio Pro & the That's, (2) from Mazda the Titan Dump, the Scrum Truck & the Bongo Brawny, (3) from Mitsubishi the Super Great, the eK-Classy, the Town Box, the Mirage Dingo Teddy Bear & the Homy Super Long, (4) from Suzuki the Solio Bandit & the Mighty Boy, (5) from Toyota the Royal Lounge Alphard, (6) from Subaru the Touring Bruce, (7) from Nissan the Big Thumb, the Elgrand Highway Star & the Cedric and (8) from Cony, the Guppy.

1964 Porsche 901 (left), 1968 Porsche 911L Targa (soft window) (centre) and 1969 Porsche 911S Targa (right)

Compared with that lot, Porsche deciding to call a car a Targa seems quite restrained.  Porsche borrowed the name from Targa Florio, the famous race in the hills of Sicily first run in 1906 and where Porsche in the 1950s had enjoyed some success.  Long, challenging and treacherous, it originally circumnavigated the island but the distance was gradually reduced until it was last run in its classic form in 1973 although in even more truncated form it lingered until 1977.  The construct of the name of the Targa Florio, the race in Italy from which Porsche borrowed the name, was Targa (in the sense of “plate” or “shield” + Florio, a tribute to Vincenzo Florio (1883-1959), a rich Sicilian businessman, automobile enthusiast and scion of a prominent family of industrialists and sportsmen; it was Vincenzo Florio who in 1906 founded the race.  Porsche won the race seven times between between 1963-1970 and took victory in 1973 in a 911 Carrera RSR, the car which in its street-legal (the Carrera RS) form remains among the most coveted of all the 911s and many replicas have been created.  Porsche didn't make any 1973 Carrera RS Targas; all were coupés.

1976 Porsche 914 2.0 with factory-fitted heckblende in Nepal Orange over black leatherette with orange & black plaid inserts.  All the mid-engined 914 built for public sale had a targa top although for use in competition the factory did a few with a fixed roof to gain additional rigidity.  The 914 was the first of a number of attempts by Porsche’s engineers to convince customers there were better configurations than the rear-engine layout used on the 911 & 912.  The customers continued to demand 911s and, the customer always being right, rear-engined 911s remain available to this day.  Porsche now offers front & mid-engined models so presumably honor is thought satisfied on both sides.

Lamborghini Miura Roadster in metallic blue over white leather.

The modern convention is to distinguish between a roadster (with a roof which wholly can be removed or folded back) and a targa (with a removable panel about the seats (a cat with left & right panels being a “T-top”)) but in what now seems a linguistic quirk, Lamborghini in 1968 displayed a (sort of) targa it called a Roadster.  It would be the only convertible Miura of any type the factory would build.  Although the P400 Miura's rolling chassis had generated much interest (and some scepticism from engineers who understood the implications of installing its mid-mounted V12 engine transversely) when displayed at the 1965 Turin Auto Show, when a pre-production prototype was used for the car’s debut at the Geneva show, it created as much of a sensation as the Jaguar E-Type (XKE, 1961-1974) arrival in the same city half-a-decade earlier.  The Miura is the spiritual ancestor of the “supercars” and “hypercars” of recent decades but while undeniably beautiful, at high-speed (it could exceed 170 mph (275 km/h)) the aerodynamic properties were dubious and the transverse engine induced handling quirks even experts found challenging to master.  Still, with close to 800 made over three series (P400, 1966-1968; P400 S, 1968-1971; P400 SV 1971-1973), it was a great success and the most desirable are now multi-million dollar machines.  It was quite an achievement for a concern which between 1948-1963 had built only well-regarded tractors and although the Miura wasn’t the company’s first car, it was the one which gained the marque the credibility to ranked with Ferrari and indeed greatly it influenced the mid-engined Ferraris and Maseratis of the 1970s as well as encouraging lower-cost imitators such as De Tomaso’s Mangusta (1967-1971).

Lamborghini Miura Roadster in metallic blue over white leather.

Perhaps counterintitutively the sensuous Miura was named after a breed of bull but it was one prized in bullfighting for its aggressive qualities so one can see the connection.  While a few claim to be cooks who helped stir the broth, the Miura’s lovely lines usually are credited to Marcello Gandini (1938–2024), a designer working at Giuseppe "Nuccio" Bertone’s (1914-1997) Turin-based Carrozzeria Bertone.  The one-off Miura roadster wasn’t exactly the first mid-engined coupé in a targa configuration, Ford building in 1965 five such GT40s (1964-1969) but these were pure racing cars and the first appeared a few weeks before Porsche in 1965 released the 911 Targa so it’s not surprising Ford dubbed the things “roadsters”.  The Fords were actually rolling test-beds for components and featured a number of differences from the more numerous coupés but nor was the Miura Roadster simply a coupé pulled from the assembly line and then de-roofed.  What Bertone did was a significant re-engineering, the roofline lowered by 30 mm (1¼ inches) with the rollover hoop lowered to reduce drag, the angle off the windscreen made more acute and the rear bodywork re-shaped with larger air-intakes for the V12, a more pronounced spoiler fitted to the rear deck, the tail-pipes re-routed and revised taillights were fitted.  Unseen were structural changes which reinforced the chassis, the box-section side members strengthened to compensate for the loss of rigidity created by removing the roof.  Inside, there were detail changes to the trim and switchgear.

Bertone’s Lamborghini Miura Roadster, Brussels Salon de L’Automobile, January 1968. Young ladies adorning exhibits were once a fixture at motor shows and this bevy was more fully clothed than many.

The reaction when the roadster was displayed at Brussels was little less enthusiastic than at Geneva two years earlier and dealers and the factory at once received enquiries about price and delivery dates.  Unfortunately, what the designers knew was that stunning though it looked, what the roofectomy had done was so compromise the structural rigidity that not even the strengthening done to the platform had been enough to make the Roadster a viable production car.  To achieve that, the whole shell would have had to be re-engineered and Lamborghini’s engineers knew that though achingly lovely, the shape and the transverse mounting of the V12 which made it possible were both flawed concepts and the future lay in longitudinally-positioned power-plants within an angular wedge.  Those conclusions would be rendered in physical form when the prototype Countach appeared at Geneva in 1971 and its lines can be seen still in twenty-first century Lamborghinis.

The ILZRO’s ZN 75 in iridescent green over tan leather.  The delightful “eyelashes” above the Miura's headlights unfortunately didn't appear on the P400 SV.

So the Roadster was destined to be a one-off curiosity but the show car subsequently had an interesting life.  In 1969 it was purchased by the New York-based ILZRO (International Lead Zinc Research Organization) which wanted something eye-catching with which to promote the use of the metals in automotive use.  Renamed ZN 75, it became a demonstration platform for zinc and lead applications in automotive engineering; it was repainted in an iridescent green, and various components were recast in zinc and lead-alloys, including trim, bumpers and even engine parts.  On the periodic table, the chemical element zinc has the symbol “Zn” while the “75” was a reference to 1975, the year the ILZRO and other industry groups were lobbying the regulators to set as the date by which new automotive materials and corrosion-resistance standards would become widespread.  The ILZRO’s campaign emphasis was on galvanization and anti-corrosion technologies, with the argument that by the mid-1970s, manufacturers would need extensively and more systematically to use zinc and such to meet with expectations of durability and comply with legislative dictate.  During the 1970s, was shown around North America, Europe, and Asia becoming one of the more widely seen Miuras and decades later, was restored to its original appearance.  Whether it even should be referred to as a targa is debatable because Bertone didn’t include a removable roof panel but over the years some Miuras have been converted to targas (with a removable panel) so the pedants can designate the original roadster as being “in the targa style”.   

1938 Packard 1605 Super Eight Sedanca de Ville by Barker.

The idea of a vehicle with a removable roof section over the driver is more ancient even than the Porsche 911.  Now, a “town car” is imagined as something small and increasingly powered in some Greta Thunberg (b 2003) approved way but in the US, what was sold as a “Town Car” used to be very big, very thirsty (for fossil fuels) and a prodigious emitter of greenhouse gasses.  The idea had begun in Europe as the coupé de ville, deconstructed as the French coupé (an elliptical form of carosse coupé (cut carriage)) and the past participle of couper (to cut) + de ville (French for “for town”).  So, it was, like the horse-drawn coupé carriage, a smaller conveyance for short-distance travel within cities, often just for two passengers who sat sometimes in an enclosed compartment and sometimes under a canopy while the driver was always exposed to the elements.  In the UK, the style was often advertised as the clarence carriage.  The coach-builders of the inter-war years created naming practices which were not consistent across the industry but did tend to be standardized within individual catalogues.  In the US, reflecting the horse-drawn tradition, the coupé de ville was Anglicized as coupe de ville and appeared as both “town brougham” and “town car”, distinguished by the enclosed passenger compartment (trimmed often in cloth) and the exposed driver who sat on more weather resistant leather upholstery.

1974 Lincoln Continental Town Car.  The big Lincolns of the 1970s are about as remote as can be imagined from the original idea of something small and agile for use in congested cities but Ford also called this body style the "pillared hardtop" so by then, linguistic traditions clearly meant little.

Dating from the 1920s, a variant term was “Sedanca de ville”, briefly used to describe a particular configuration for the roof but so attractive was the word it spread and soon there appeared were Sedancas and Sedanca coupés.  Like many designations in the industry, it soon ceased to carry an exact meaning beyond the front seats being open to the skies although by the 1920s there was usually a detachable or folding (even some sliding metal versions were built) roof and windscreens had become a universal fitting.  For a while, there probably was (unusually in an industry which often paid scant attention to the details of etymology) an understanding a Sedanca de ville was a larger vehicle than a Sedanca coupé but the former term became the more generally applied, always on the basis of the ability of the driver’s compartment to be open although it’s clear many of the vehicles were marketed towards owner-drivers rather than those with chauffeurs, that cohort having moved towards fully enclosed limousines.  It’s from the Sedanca tradition the US industry later picked up the idea of the “town car” although the association was vague and had nothing to do with an open driver’s cockpit; it was understood just as a model designation which somehow implied “prestige”.

1968 Triumph TR5 with “Surrey Top”.

Porsche had since the late 1940s been building roadsters and cabriolets but while the 911 (then known internally as Project 901) was under development, it was clear US regulators, in reaction to a sharply rising death toll on the nation’s highways, were developing some quite rigorous safety standards and a number of proposals had been circulated which threatened to outlaw the traditional convertible.  Thus the approach adopted which, drawing from the company’s experience in building race cars, essentially added a stylized roll-over bar which could accommodate a detachable roof-section over the passengers and a folding rear cover which included a Perspex screen (the solid rear glass would come later).  Actually, the concept wasn’t entirely novel, Triumph introducing something similar on their TR4 roadsters (1961-1967) although their design consisted of (1) a half-hard top with an integral roll-bar & fixed glass rear window and (2) two detachable (metal & vinyl) panels which sat above the passengers.  Customers universally (and still to this day) referred to this arrangement as the “Surrey Top” although Triumph insisted only the vinyl insert and its supporting frame was the “Surrey” while the rest of the parts collectively were the “Hard Top kit”.  The targaesque top was available on the TR5 (1967-1969), a de-tuned version of which was sold in North America as the TR250 with twin carburetors replacing the Lucas mechanical fuel-injection used in most other markets, the more exotic system then unable to comply with the new emission standards.

1953 Ford X-100 with roof panel retracted (left), the Quincunxed five carburetor apparatus atop the 317 cubic inch (5.2 litre) Lincoln Y-Block V8 (centre) and the built-in hydraulic jacking system in use (right).

However, long before Porsche told us there were Targa and a decade before even Triumph’s Surrey, Ford had displayed a two-seat “targa”.  In the years to come, things like the 1953 Ford X-100 would be called “concept cars” but that term didn’t then exist so Ford used the more familiar “dream car” and that does seem a more romantic way of putting it.  Reflecting the optimistic spirit of the early post-war years, the X-100 included a number of innovations including the use of radial-ply tyres, a built-in hydraulic jacking system, a rain-sensor which automatically would trigger an electric motor to close the sliding plexiglass roof panel, a built-in dictaphone, a telephone in the centre console and the convenience of heated seats and an electric shaver mounted in the glove compartment.  Some of the features became mainstream products, some not and while the “variable volume horn” wasn’t picked up by the industry, one did appear on the Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100; 1963-1981) although that was a rare supportive gesture.  It was also an age of imaginative labels and Ford called their quincunx induction system the “Multi-Plex”; while the engineering proved a cul-de-sac, the name did later get picked up by multi-screen suburban cinema complexes.  For the X-100, Ford used what was then a popular technique in the lunatic fringe of the burgeoning hot rod: an induction system using five carburettors in a Quincunx pattern.  Inherent difficulties and advances in engineering meant the fad didn’t last but the apparatus remins pleasing to those with a fondness of unusual aluminium castings and intricate mechanical linkages.  X-100 still exists and is displayed at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

1969 Mercury Marauder X-100.  In 1969, the blacked-out trunk (boot) lid and surrounds really was done by the factory.  During the administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), things were not drab and predictable.

In a number of quirky coincidences, the name X-100 seems to once have been an industry favourite because as well as the 1953 Ford “dream car”, it was the US Secret Service’s designation for the 1961 Lincoln Continental parade convertible in which John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated in Dallas, Texas.  One might have thought that macabre association might have been enough for the “X-100” tag to not again be used but, presumably because the Secret Service’s internal codes weren’t then general public knowledge, in 1969 Ford’s Mercury division released an X-100 as an up-market version of its second generation (1969-1970) Marauder.  Notionally, the X-100 was a “high performance” version but its 365 (gross) horsepower 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 was an option in lesser priced Marauders which meant the X-100, weighed down by the additional luxury fittings, was just a little slower than the cheaper models with the 429.  The market for “full-sized” high performance cars was anyway by 1969 in the final stages of terminal decline and although an encouraging 5635 were sold in 1969, sales the next year fell to 2646 and the X-100 was retired at the end of the 1970 and not replaced.  Most bizarre though was project X-100, a US$75 million (then a lot of what was at the time borrowed money) contract in 1943 awarded to Chrysler to design, machine and nickel-plate the inner surfaces of the cylindrical diffusers required to separate uranium isotopes.  Part of the Manhattan Project which built the world’s first atomic bombs, Chrysler built over 3,500 diffusers used at the plant in Oak Ridge, Tennessee and many were still in service as late as the 1980s.  Not until after the first A-bomb was used against Hiroshima in August 1945 did most of the X-100 project’s workers become aware of the use being made of the precision equipment they were producing.

Built by Ferrari: 1973 Dino 246 GTS with "chairs & flares" options.  The "GTS" stood for "Gran Tourismo Spider" but it was a true targa in the sense codified by Porsche.

The rhyming colloquialism “chairs and flares” (C&F to the Ferrari cognoscenti and these days the early Dinos are an accepted part of the family) is a reference to a pair of (separately available) options available on later production Dino 246s.  The options were (1) seats with inserts (sometimes in a contasting color) in the style used on the 365 GTB/4 (Daytona) & (2) wider Campagnolo Elektron wheels (which the factory only ever referred to by size) which necessitated flared wheel-arches.  In the early 1970s the factory wasn’t too punctilious in the keeping of records so it’s not known how many cars were originally built equipped with the wider (7½ x 14” vs 6½ x 14”) wheels but some privately maintained registers exist and on the basis of these it’s believed production was probably between 200-250 cars from a total run of 3569 (2,295 GT coupés & 1,274 GTS spiders (targa)).  They appear to have been most commonly ordered on UK & US market cars (although the numbers for Europe are described as “dubious” and thought an under-estimate; there are also an unknown number in other countries), the breakdown of verified production being:

246 GT: UK=22, Europe=5, US=5.
246 GTS: UK=21, Europe=2, US=91.

The “chairs and flares” cars are those which have both the Elektron option and the Daytona-style seats but because they were available separately, some were built with only one of the two, hence the existence of other slang terms in the Dino world including “Daytona package”, “Sebring spiders” and, in the UK, the brutish “big arches”.  In 1974, the Dino's option list (in US$) comprised:

Power windows: $270.00
Metallic paint: $270.00
Leather upholstery: $450.00
Daytona type central seat panels: $115.00
Air-conditioning: $770.00
14 x 7½ wheels & fender flares: $680.00
AM/FM/SW radio: $315.00
Electric antenna & speakers: $100.00

At a combined US$795.00, the C&F combo has proved a good investment, now adding significantly to the price of the anyway highly collectable Dino.  Although it's hard to estimate the added value because so many other factors influence calculation, all else being equal, the premium would seem to to be well over US$100,000.  Because it involves only wheels, upholstery and metal, the modifications are technically not difficult to emulate although the price of a modified vehicle will not match that of an original although unlike some of the more radical modifications to Ferraris (such as conversions to roadsters), creating a C&F out of a standard 246 seems not to lower its value.  These things are always relative; in 1974 the C&F option added 5.2% to the Dino GTS's list price and was just under a third the cost of a new small (in US terms a "sub-compact") car such as the Chevrolet Vega (1970-1977).

An enduring design: 2023 Porsche 911 Targa 4 (992).

Porsche didn’t complicate things, in 1966 offering the Targa as an alternative to the familiar coupé, then in series production since 1964.  Briefly, the company flirted with calling the car the 911 Flori but ultimately Targa was preferred and the appropriate trademarks were applied for in 1965, the factory apparently discovering targa in Italian means “number plate” or “license plate” only that year when the translators were working on international editions of the sales brochures.  The now familiar fixed, heated rear screen in safety glass was first offered in 1967 as an alternative to the one in fold-down plastic one and such was the demand it soon became the standard fitting.  The Targa carried over into the 911’s second and third generation being, re-designed for 1993 in a way that dispensed with the roll bar and it wouldn’t be until 2011 the familiar shape returned.

1970 Iso Grifo Targa (Series I, 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) Chevrolet V8, left) and 1971 Iso Grifo Can-Am Targa (Series II, 454 cubic inch (7.4 litre) Chevrolet V8, right).  The raised centre section on the hood (bonnet) of the big-block Grifos was known informally as the "penthouse"; it was required because the induction system sat higher than on the small-block cars.  Not all approved of the penthouse because they found it discordant with the otherwise flowing lines but its brutish functionalism seems a fitting tribute brute force beneath.

Among the small volume manufactures which in the post-war years found a lucrative niche in combining sensuous European coachwork with the cheap, powerful and robust American V8s, there was a focus on two-door coupés because (1) this was the example set by Ferrari and (2) there most demand in the segment clearly existed.  The ecosystem was sent extinct by the first oil shock of the early 1970s but in the era, some did offer convertibles and where not, there were specialists prepared to help.  There was though, the odd targa.  The achingly lovely Iso Grifo spyder (roadster) shown at the Geneva Motor Show in 1964 never reached production but in 1966, less than two years into the Grifo’s life (during which almost 100 had been made), the factory put a targa version on their stand at the Turin Motor Show.  It was only ever available to special order on a POA (price on application) basis and between then and the shuttering of the factory in 1974, only 17 were built, four of which were the Series II Can-Ams with the big-block Chevrolet V8.