Heterochromatic

Heterochromatic (pronounced het-er-uh-kroh-mat-ik or het-er-oh-kruh-mat-ik)

(1) Of, having, or pertaining to more than one color (especially as related to relating to heterochromia (in medicine & ophthalmology, the anatomical condition in which multiple pigmentations or colorings occur in the eyes, skin or hair).

(2) Having a pattern of mixed colors.

(3) Of light, having more than one wavelength.

(4) In genetics, of or relating to heterochromatin (in cytology, tightly coiled chromosome material; believed to be genetically inactive).

1890–1895: The construct was hetero- + chromatic + -ic.  The hetero- prefix was from the Ancient Greek ἕτερος (héteros) (the other (of two), another, different; second; other than usual) and was itself an ancient compound, the first element meaning "one, at one, together", from the primitive Indo-European root sem- (one; as one, together with), the second cognate with the second element in the Latin al-ter, the Gothic an-þar and the Old English o-ðer "other."  It's familiar in constructs such as “heterosexual”, “heterogeneity” et al.  In Classical Greek, there was quite a range of application including Heterokretes (true Cretan (ie one bred from the old stock)), heteroglossos (of or from a foreign language), heterozelos (zealous for one side (ie “one-eyed” in the figurative sense)), heterotropos (of a different sort or fashion (literally “turning the other way”) and the useful heterophron (raving (literally “of other mind” (ie “he’s barking mad”))).  The adjective chromatic dates from the turn of the seventeenth century and was used first of music in the sense of “involving tones foreign to the normal tonality of the scale, not diatonic” and was from the Latin chromaticus, from the Ancient Greek khrōmatikos (relating to color, suited for color) (which was applied also to music), from khrōma (genitive khrōmatos) (color, complexion, character (but used mostly metaphorically of embellishments in music); the original meaning was “skin, surface”.  In the Greek, khrōma was used also for certain modifications of the usual diatonic music scale but quite why it came to be used of music remains unclear, the most supported speculation being the influence of the extended sense of khrōma ("ornaments, makeup, embellishments) via the idea of it being “characteristic” of a musical scale or speech.  The -ic suffix was from the Middle English -ik, from the Old French -ique, from the Latin -icus, from the primitive Indo-European -kos & -ḱos, formed with the i-stem suffix -i- and the adjectival suffix -kos & -ḱos.  The form existed also in the Ancient Greek as -ικός (-ikós), in Sanskrit as -इक (-ika) and the Old Church Slavonic as -ъкъ (-ŭkŭ); A doublet of -y.  In European languages, adding -kos to noun stems carried the meaning "characteristic of, like, typical, pertaining to" while on adjectival stems it acted emphatically; in English it's always been used to form adjectives from nouns with the meaning “of or pertaining to”.  A precise technical use exists in physical chemistry where it's used to denote certain chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a higher oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ous; (eg sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  Heterochromatic, heterochrome & heterochromous are adjectives, heterochrony, heterochromia & heterochromatism are nouns and heterochromatically is an adverb; the noun plural is heterochromias.

The obvious synonym is monochromatic (although is modern use that’s come often to mean “black & white” rather than “a single color”.  The -mono- prefix was from the Ancient Greek μόνος (mónos) (alone, only, sole, single), from the Proto-Hellenic mónwos and the ending may be compared with οἶος (oîos) (only, single) from óywos.  The etymology of the initial element remains murky but may be from the primitive Indo-European men- (small) and it may be compared with the Ancient Greek μανός (manós) (sparse, rare), the Armenian մանր (manr) (slender, small) and even the Proto-West Germanic muniwu (small fish, minnow).  The sense it’s understood in photography dates from 1940 when (presumably almost instantly), the verbal shorthand became “mono”, exactly the same pattern of use when the need arose to distinguish between color printers and those using only black consumables.  The word was used as an adjective after 1849 although monochromatic (of one color, consisting of light of one wavelength and probably based either on the French monochromatique or the Ancient Greek monokhrōmatos) had been used thus since at least 1807 (presumably it pre-dated this because the adverb monochromatically is documented since 1784).  The alternative forms are both self-explanatory: unicolour used usually single solids and monotint, rare and used mostly as a technical term in art-production where, properly, it describes a reproduction of a multi-color image using just shades of a single color.  Monochrome is a noun & adjective, monochromaticity, monochromy & monochromist are nouns, monochromic is an adjective and monochromatically is an adverb.

Sectoral heterochromia.

In medicine & ophthalmology, heterochromia describes a coloration variously of hair, skin and the eyes but it’s used most commonly of eyes.  At the cellular level, heterochromia is a function of the production, delivery, and concentration of the pigment melanin and the condition may be inherited or caused by genetic mosaicism, chimerism, disease, or injury.  It is not uncommon in certain breeds of domesticated animals (notably those subject to breeding programmes which tend to reduce the gene pool and cats with a predominantly white coat).  In clinical use heterochromia of the eye is known as heterochromia iridum or heterochromia iridis and can be complete, sectoral, or central.  The complete heterochromia is the best known by virtue of being the most photogenic for Instagram and other purposes: it exists when one iris is a wholly different color from the other.  In sectoral heterochromia, part of one iris is a different color from the rest while in central heterochromia, typically there is a ring around the pupil (less commonly seen as spikes radiating from the pupil) in a different color.

Ms Amina Ependieva (b 2008, left) was born in Grozny, the capital city of Chechnya, Russia; she has two rare, genetic conditions: (1) albinism which reduces the quantity the pigment melanin in the skin and (2) heterochromia, the latter manifesting as her having with one blue and one brown eye.  Ms Ependieva was photographed in 2019, aged eleven.  Alkira (b 2015, right) is a Persian cat with heterochromia, felines with predominately white coats the most prone to the condition; in domestic cats, it's most common for them to have one yellow and one blue eye.  The condition does not affect vision.

Bilateral gynandromorphs: butterfly (left), bird (centre) & lobster (right).  The visually related phenomenon is gynandromorphism (an organism (most typically an insect, crustacean or bird) with both male and female attributes & characteristics, the construct being the Ancient Greek γυνή (gynē) (female) + ἀνήρ (anēr) (male) + μορφή (morphē) (form).  In Western science it was first extensively documented in (notably where it was most obvious: in Lepidoptera (butterflies and moths)) but it has since been identified in literally dozens of species.

Lindsay Lohan likes the heterochromatic look, whether in the vertical (Mercedes-Benz Fall 2004 Fashion Week, Smashbox Studios, Culver City, California, September, 2003, left), the horizontal (Maxim Hot 100 Party, Gansevoort Hotel, New York, May 2007, centre) or the variegated (ABC’s Good Morning America studios, New York, November 2022, right).

1985 BMW 635CSi (E24, 1976-1989) with heterochromatic headlights.

In Europe and beyond, yellow headlights are still seen because although few jurisdictions still mandate their use, for some they’ve become an aesthetic choice.  Between 1936-1993, French law required all vehicles to have yellow headlights, the intent being to reduce glare and improve visibility in foggy or rainy conditions, the science being the belief yellow light (which has a longer wavelength) reduced eye strain and made driving at night safer by “cutting through” mist and fog more effectively than white light.  The German philosopher Goethe (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832)) was said to be heterochromatic and he was interested in eyes & color, in 1810 publishing a 1,400-page treatise on the topic, asserting he was the first to questioned the validity of Sir Isaac Newton’s (1642–1727) ideas about light and color: “That I am the only person in this century who has the right insight into the difficult science of colors, that is what I am rather proud of, and that is what gives me the feeling that I have outstripped many.”  Goethe did misinterpret the results of some of Newton’s experiments, thinking he was explaining their invalidity but he did reformulate the topic of color in an entirely new way.  While Newton had viewed color as a physical “process” in which light entered the eye after striking and reflecting off an object, Goethe was the first to explain the sensation of color is shaped also by our perception (the mechanics of human vision and by the way our brains process information (the eyes being an out-growth of the brain).  So, explained Goethe, what we see is a construct of (1) the properties of the object, (2) the dynamics of lighting and (3) our perception.

Barracuda

Barracuda (pronounced bar-uh-koo-duh)

(1) Any of several elongated, predaceous marine fishes of the genus Sphyraena, certain species of which are used for food. The large fish are notoriously voracious and are found world-wide in tropical & sub-tropical waters; the collective noun is "battery".

(2) In slang, a treacherous, greedy person (obsolete).

(3) In slang, one who uses harsh or predatory means to compete.

(3) A car produced by the Plymouth division of Chrysler Corporation in three generations between 1964-1974 (as both Barracuda and 'Cuda).

1670-1680: From American Spanish, thought derived from customary use in the Caribbean, borrowed from the Latin American Spanish barracuda, perhaps from a Cariban word, most likely the Valencian-Catalan barracó (snaggletooth), first recorded as barracoutha.  There was the suggestion barracó may come from Latin in which the word barra could be used to mean "bar", the idea being this was a reference to to the elongated, bar-like shape of the fish; the theory is regarded as speculative.  Barracuda is a noun and barracudalike is an adjective; the noun plural is is barracuda or barracudas.

The plural of fish is an illustration of the inconsistency of English.  As the plural form, “fish” & “fishes” are often (and harmlessly) used interchangeably but in zoology, there is a distinction, fish (1) the noun singular & (2) the plural when referring to multiple individuals from a single species while fishes is the noun plural used to describe different species or species groups.  The differentiation is thus similar to that between people and peoples yet different from the use adopted when speaking of sheep and, although opinion is divided on which is misleading (the depictions vary), those born under the zodiac sign Pisces are referred to variously as both fish & fishes.  So, for most folk, the best advice if a plural of "barracuda'" is needed is to (1) use which ever produces the most elegant sentence and (2) be consistent in use.  However, ichthyologists (and probably zoologists in general) will note the barracuda genus "Sphyraena" consists of 29 species and will use "barracuda" if speaking of many fish of the one species and "barracudas" if fish of more than one species are involved.

The danger presented by barracuda in open water is well documented.  The US Navy's heavy cruiser USS Indianapolis (CA-35) was the warship which in July 1945 delivered to Tinian Naval Base the critical components for "Little Boy" the atomic bomb (a uranium device, for decades a genuine one-off, all other nuclear weapons built with plutonium until (it’s suspected) the DPRK (North Korea) used uranium for at least one of its tests) and it was torpedoed and sunk by an Imperial Japanese Navy submarine.  Because of wartime circumstances, the sinking remained unknown for some four days and of the crew of 1195, only 316 survived of the 890 who made it into the water, many of the rest taken by “sharks and five-foot long barracudas.”

Barracuda (1977) was US horror movie set on the Florida coast.  The plot-line involved the inhabitants of a small town being menaced by batteries of barracuda which have become highly aggressive because of chemical intervention by a former military doctor who has gone mad while conducting secret government research into hypoglycaemia and its effect on human behavior.  The film was not well-reviewed and critics noted the "derivative & dubious plot, poorly executed special effects and lack of focus on the title character (the fish)". 

The Plymouth Barracuda & 'Cuda, 1964-1974

While the 1964 Ford Mustang is credited with creating the pony-car market, it was actually the Plymouth Barracuda which came first, released seventeen days earlier.  Ford’s used the approach of draping a sexy new body over an existing, low-cost, platform and drive-train and Chrysler chose the same route, using the sub-compact Valiant as Ford were using their Falcon.  In the years to come, there would be many who adopted the method, often with great success and on both sides of the Atlantic, there other manufacturers would create their own "pony cars".  Despite the chronology, it's the Mustang which deserves the credit for the linguistic innovation, the term "pony car" an allusion to the equine association in the Ford's name and a nod also to the thing being (in US terms at the time), a "smaller" car.  If was only after the Mustang had both created and defined the segment the Barracuda came to be called a pony car. 

1965 Ford Mustang "notchback".

Unfortunately, despite the project having been in the works for years, a sudden awareness Ford were well advanced meant Chrysler’s lower-budget development was rushed.  Despite the Valiant’s platform and drive-train being in many aspects technically superior to the less ambitious Falcon, Plymouth’s Barracuda was a bit of a flop, outsold by its competitor initially by around ten to one, numbers which got worse as "Mustangmania" overtook the land.  While the Mustang got what was called “the body from central casting”, from the windscreen forward, the Barracuda retained the sheet-metal from the mundane Valiant, onto which was grafted a rear end which was adventurous but stylistically disconnected from the front.

1964 Plymouth Barracuda.

It was an awkward discombobulation although, with the back-seat able to be folded down to transform the rear passenger compartment into a large luggage space, it was clever, practical design.  Although in the years to come, the notion of such lines being used for a "liftback" or "hatchback" would appear, even during the design process, it was never envisaged that the rear window might be made to open.  At the time, the matter of of installing the big, heavy piece of glass and its edging was thought challenge enough without adding the engineering the necessary hinges and body-mounting points.  Although not a stressed panel, the glass did contribute to structural rigidity which was good but it also produced much heat-soak into the interior; driving an early Barracuda on a hot' sunny day could be a "sticky" experience, vinyl upholstery a standard fitting and air-conditioning expensive and a generation away from becoming commonplace.  

1971 Jensen FF Mark III, one of 15 built.

The novelty of the Barracuda's rear-end was a giant window which, at 14.4 square feet (1.34m³), was at the time the largest ever installed in a production car.  In 1966, even grander glazing was seen on the Jensen Interceptor, styled by Italy’s Carrozzeria Touring, but there it was ascetically successful, the lines of the big trans-Atlantic hybrid more suited to such an expanse of glass.  Unlike Plymouth, Jensen took advantage of the possibilities offered and had the glass double as a giant, glazed trunk (boot) lid.  It didn't quite create one of the shooting brakes so adored by the gentry but it did enhance the practicality. Using Chrysler's big-block V8s and (but for a handful built with manual gearboxes) TorqueFlite automatic transmission, the Interceptor was no thoroughbred but it offered effortless performance and the bullet-proof reliability for which the US power-trains of the era were renowned.

1968 Plymouth Barracuda hardtop.

The extraordinary success of the Mustang nevertheless encouraged Chrysler to persist and the Barracuda, though still on the Valiant platform, was re-styled for 1967, this time with the vaguely Italianesque influences (noticed probably more by Americans than Italians) seen also in 1966 with the release of the second series of Chevrolet’s doomed, rear-engined Corvair.  Although the rear-engine configuration proved a cul-de-sac, aesthetically, the later Corvairs were among the finest US designs of the era and, unusually, the lovely lines were implemented as successfully in four-door form as on the coupe.  Visually, the revised Barracuda didn't quite scale the heights achieved by Chevrolet but greatly it improved on the original and was offered with both notchback and convertible coachwork, as well as the fastback the Mustang had made popular but, because of the economic necessity of retaining some aspects of the Valiant’s structure, it wasn’t possible to realise the short-deck, long-hood look with which the Mustang had established the pony car design motif used still today.

1969 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am.

General Motors’ (GM) answer to the Mustang wasn’t as constrained by the fiscal frugality which had imposed so many compromises on the Barracuda, the Chevrolet Camaro and the substantially similar Pontiac Firebird both introduced in 1966 with a curvaceous interpretation of the short-deck, long-hood idea which maintained a relationship with the GM’s then voguish “cokebottle” designs.  In a twist on the pony car process, the Camaro and Firebird were built on an entirely new platform which would later be used for Chevrolet’s new competitor for the Valiant and Falcon, the Nova.  Just as the pedestrian platforms had restricted the freedom to design the Barracuda, so the Camaro’s underpinnings imposed compromises in space utilization on the Nova, a few inches of the passenger compartment sacrificed to fashion.  For 1967, Ford released an updated Mustang, visually similar to the original but notably wider, matching the Camaro and Firebird in easily accommodating big-block engines, not something Chrysler easily could do with the Barracuda.

1969 Plymouth 'Cuda 440.

However, this was the 1960s and though Chrysler couldn’t easily install a big-block, they could with difficulty and so they did, most with a 383 cubic inch (6.3 litre) V8 and, in 1969, in a package now called ‘Cuda, (the name adopted for the hig-performance versions) a few with the 440 (7.2 litre).  At first glance it looked a bargain, the big engine not all that expensive but having ticked the box, the buyer then found added a number of "mandatory options" so the total package did add a hefty premium to the basic cost.  The bulk of the big-block 440 was such that the plumbing needed for disc brakes wouldn’t fit so the monster had to be stopped with the antiquated drum-type and nor was there space for power steering, quite a sacrifice in a car with so much weight sitting atop the front wheels.  The prototype built with a manual gearbox frequently snapped so many rear suspension components the engineers were forced to insist on an automatic transmission, the fluid cushion softening the impact between torque and tarmac.  Still, in a straight line, the things were quick enough to entice almost 350 buyers, many of whom tended to enjoy the experience a ¼ mile (402 metres) at a time, the drag-strip it's native environment.  To this day the 440 remains the second-largest engine used in a pony car, only Pontiac's later 455 (7.5) offering more displacement.

1968 Plymouth Barracuda convertible.

For what most people did most of the time (which included turning corners), the better choice, introduced late in 1967, was an enlarged version of Chrysler’s small-block V8 (LA), now bored-out to 340 cubic inches (5.6 litres); it wouldn’t be the biggest of the LA series but it was the best.  A high-revving, free-breathing thing from the days when only the most rudimentary emission controls were required, the toxic little (a relative term) 340 gave the Barracuda performance in a straight line not markedly inferior to the 440, coupled with markedly improved braking and cornering prowess.  One of the outstanding engines of the era and certainly one of Detroit's best small-block V8s, it lasted, gradually detuned, until 1973 by which time interest in performance cars had declined in parallel with the engineers ability economically to produce them while also complying with the increasingly onerous anti-pollution rules.

1968 Hemi Barracuda, supplied ex factory with un-painted black fibreglass.

Of course, for some even a 440 ‘Cuda wouldn't be enough and anticipating this, in 1968, Plymouth took the metaphorical shoehorn and installed the 426 cubic inch (6.9 litre) Street Hemi V8, a (slightly) civilised version of their racing engine.  Fifty were built (though one normally reliable source claims it was seventy) and with fibreglass panels and all manner of acid-dipping tricks to reduce weight, Plymouth didn’t even try to pretend the things were intended for anywhere except the drag strip.  The power-to-weight ratio of the 1968 Hemi Barracudas remains the highest of the era.  The things sometimes are described as "1968 Hemi 'Cudas" but in the factory documentation they were only ever referred to as "Hemi Barracuda" because the 'Cuda name wasn't introduced until the next season.  

1971 Plymouth 'Cuda coupe.

The third and final iteration of the Barracuda was introduced as a 1970 model and lasted until 1974.  Abandoning both the delicate lines of the second generation and the fastback body, the lines were influenced more by the Camaro than the Mustang and it was wide enough for any engine in the inventory.  This time the range comprised (1) the Barracuda which could be configured with either of the two slant sixes (198 (3.2) & 225 (3.6) or one of the milder V8s, (2) the Gran 'Cuda which offered slightly more powerful V8s and some additional luxury appointments including the novelty of an overhead console (obviously not available in the convertible) and (3) the 'Cuda which was oriented towards high-performance and available with the 340, 383, 440 and 426 units, the wide (E-body) platform able to handle any engine/transmission combination.  Perhaps the best looking of all the pony cars, sales encouragingly spiked for 1970, even the Hemi ‘Cuda attracting over 650 buyers, despite the big engine increasing the price by about a third and it would have been more popular still, had not the insurance premiums for such machines risen so high.  With this level of success, the future of the car seemed assured although the reaction of the press was not uncritical, one review of the Dodge Hemi Challenger (the ‘Cuda’s substantially similar stable-mate), finding it an example of “…lavish execution with little thought to practical application”.  Still, even if in some ways derivative (and as the subsequent, second generation Chevrolet Camaro & Pontiac Firebird would at the time suggest, outdated), the styling (the team led by John Herlitz (1942–2008)) has since been acknowledged as a masterpiece and when the "retro" take on the Challenger was released in the next century, those were the lines reprised, the new Mustang and Camaro also following the 1960s, not the 1970s.

1970 Plymouth Barracuda with 225 cubic inch (3.7 litre) slant-6 (left) and 1970 Plymouth Barracuda Gran Coupe (right).

It's the most powerful (The Hemis and triple-carburetor 440s) of the third generation Barracudas which are best remembered but production of those things (produced only for 1970 & 1971) never reached four figures.  Of the 105,000 Barracudas (some 26,000 of which were 'Cudas) made between 1970-1974, most were fitted with more pedestrian power-plants like the long-serving 318 cubic in (5.2 litre) V8 and the 198 & 225 (3.2 & 3.7) Slant-6, the latter pair serving what used to called the "grocery-getter" market (which in those less-enlightened times was known also as the “secretary's” or “women's” market); the sales breakdown for the other pony cars (Mustang, Camaro, Firebird, Challenger & Javelin) all revealed the same trend to some degree.  The Gran Coupe was the “luxury” version of the Barracuda, the engine options limited to the 225, 318 & 383 but with a better-trimmed interior, (something welcome in what was otherwise a quite austere environment of hard, unforgiving plastic) and some exterior bling including body sill, wheel lip and belt-line moldings.  The most notable fitting in the Gran Coupe was the overhead console, something earlier seen in the Ford Thunderbird.  A fairly large fitting for its limited utility (it included little more than an overhead light, low-fuel and door-ajar warning lights), other manufacturers would extend their functionality.  The overhead console wasn't available in the convertible version which was still sold as a "Gran Coupe", Plymouth using "coupe" as just another model name, applying it to two and four-door sedans and well as the blinged-up Grans pair.

1970 Plymouth AAR 'Cuda in "Lemon Twist" over black.

In 1970, there was a run of “AAR ‘Cudas”, a promotional model which tied in with the cars run in the Trans-Am series by the “All American Racers” (AAR) team run by US driver Dan Gurney (1931-2018).  Unlike the earlier cars produced in a certain volume in order to fulfil homologation requirements for eligibility in the Trans-Am (the Chevrolet Camaro Z28 (1967) (which in the factory’s early documents appeared as both Z-28 & Z/28) and Fords Boss 302 Mustang (1969), the AAR ‘Cudas were built in a more permissive regulatory environment, the requirement to homologate an engine within the 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) limit dropped, the teams permitted to “de-stroke” larger mass-produced units.  The change was made explicitly to tempt Chrysler to compete, removing the expensive business of developing a special engine, exactly what Chevrolet and Ford had earlier been compelled to do and the spirit of compromise was at the time in their, the NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) recently having nudged their 7.0 litre (quoted as 427 cubic inchs) to 430 to accommodate Ford’s new 429 (the 385 series V8).  So, although homologated, the AAR ‘Cudas didn’t have as close a relationship with what Gurney’s operation ran on the circuit compared with that enjoyed by the earlier Z28 Camaros and Boss Mustangs.

Underbody of 1970 Plymouth AAR 'Cuda in "Lemon Twist" over black.

The much admired side exhausts emulated the look of the (unlawful) "cut-out" systems some hot-rodders used but the AAR units were ducted using special mufflers with inlets & outlets both at the front.  Something of an affectation and probably a structural inefficiency in terms of gas-flow, they were undeniably a sexy look and AMG in the twenty-first century would adopt the "cut-out" look for the Mercedes-Benz G55 & G63 although without the convoluted path.

They did however look the part, equipped with a black fibreglass hood (bonnet) complete with lock-pins and a functional scoop, rear & (optional) front spoilers and a very sexy “side exhaust system” exiting just behind the doors.  Uniquely, the 340 in the “Trans-Am” cars ran a triple carburetor induction system (unlike the actual 5.0 litre race cars which were limited to a single four-barrel) and was rated at 290 (gross or SAE (Society of Automotive Engineers)) horsepower, a somewhat understated figure arrived at apparently because that was what was quoted for the Camaro Z28 and Boss 302 Mustang.  The engine genuinely was improved, the block a “special run” using an alloy of cast iron with a higher nickel content and including extra metal to permit the race teams to install four-bolt main bearings (none of the AAR road cars so configured).  Just to make sure buyers got the message, the front tyres were fat Goodyear E60x15s while the rears were an even beefier G60x15, a mix which was a first for Detroit and produced a pronounced forward rake.  So even if the AAR ‘Cudas really weren’t “race-ready”, they looked like they were which was of course the point of the whole exercise and they proved popular, Plymouth making 2724 (all coupes), 1604 of which were fitted with the TorqueFlite 727 automatic transmission, something not seen on the Trans-Am circuits but which was ideally suited to street use.  Dodge’s companion “homologation special” was the Challenger T/A in an identical configuration and of the 2400 coupes made, 1411 were automatics.

1970 Plymouth AAR 'Cuda with dealer-fitted (or re-production) front "chin" spoiler (option code J78) (left) and 1970 Plymouth AAR 'Cuda with standard rear "ducktail" spoiler (mandatory option J82) (right).

The black ABS plastic rear "ducktail" spoiler (mandatory option code J82) was standard on the AAR 'Cudas (and differed from the "wing" style unit optional on other 'Cudas) while the pair of front "chin" spoilers (J78) were optional.  The chin spoilers were not fitted by the factory but supplied as a "dealer-install kit" and shipped in the car's trunk (boot), the result being some variations in the mounting position so cars so configured.  The chin spoilers are available as re-productions (some even including the original Mopar part-number) and because they were dealer-installed it can be hard to tell whether they are original equipment, the slight variations in the positioning of the originals further muddying the waters.  For the “originality police” for whom “matching numbers” is the marker of the highest form of collectability, the small ABS protuberances are thus a challenge because while a rare dealer receipt or shipping list from 1970 can prove the provenance, an alleged authenticity can be difficult to disprove because there are now documented techniques by which plastic can be “aged”, a la the tricks art forgers once used to make a recent painting appear centuries old.  Scientific analysis presumably could be applied to determine the truth; there’s no record of the originality police ever having resorted to that but it may happen because in the collector market the difference in value between “original” and “not original” can be significant.

1970 Plymouth Barracuda Option M46 detail sheet (left) and 1970 Plymouth Barracuda with M46 (or re-production) rear (non-functional) quarter-panel (sill) scoop (right).

The reproduction of obscure and once rarely ordered options has meant there doubtlessly are more AAR ‘Cudas with the chin spoilers than were ever sold in that form and even the less desirable Barracudas are serviced by the industry.  In 1970 there was option code M46 which included (1) an Elastomeric (elastomer a rubbery material composed of long, chain-like molecules (or polymers) capable of recovering their original shape after suffering an impact) rear quarter-panel (sill) air scoop in front of the rear wheels, (2) matte black lower-body trim with white and red pinstripes, (3) a rear-panel black-out (similar to that used on the ‘Cuda), complemented with chrome trim from the Gran Coupe (the “luxury” version of the Barracuda which, despite the name, was available also as a convertible) and (4) blacked-out front & rear valences.  Offered only for 1970 Barracudas, Chrysler’s records indicate fewer than 450 were built but the reproduction scoops are sometimes seen even on later models including ‘Cudas on which they were never available.  Unlike the AAR’s chin spoilers, option code M46 was factory-fitted so authenticity can be verified by the fender tag.  Unlike the spoilers (which would have had some aerodynamic effect), option M46 was purely a “dress-up”, the quarter-panel scoop “non-functional” and only emulating the “rear-brake cooling ducts” sometimes used on race cars or exotic machines.  

1971 Plymouth 'Cuda convertible.

Circumstances conspired to doom the ‘Cuda, the 426 Hemi, the Challenger and almost the whole muscle car ecosystem.  Some of the pony cars would survive but for quite some time mostly only as caricatures of their wild predecessors.  Rapidly piling up were safety and emission control regulations which were consuming an increasing proportion of manufacturers’ budgets but just as lethal was the crackdown by the insurance industry on what were admittedly dangerously overpowered cars which, by international standards, were extraordinarily cheap and often within the price range of the 17-25 year old males most prone to high-speed accidents on highways.  During 1970, the insurance industry looked at the data and adjusted the premiums.  By late 1970, were it possible to buy insurance for a Hemi ‘Cuda and its ilk, it was prohibitively expensive and sales flopped from around 650 in 1970 to barely more than a hundred the next year, of which but a dozen-odd were convertibles.  Retired with the Hemi was the triple carburetor option for the 440; 1971 was the last time such a configuration would appear on a US-built vehicle.

It was nearly over.  Although in 1972 the Barracuda & Challenger were granted a stay of execution, the convertible and the big-block engines didn’t re-appear after 1971 and the once vibrant 340 was soon replaced by a more placid 360.  Sales continued to fall, soon below the point where the expensive to produce E-body was viable, production of both Barracuda and Challenger ending in 1974.  From a corporate point-of-view, the whole E-Body project had proved a fiasco: not only did it turn out to be labour-intensive to build, it was only ever used by the Barracuda & Challenger, a financial death sentence in an industry where production line rationalization was created by "platform-sharing".  Even without the factors which led to the extinction however, the first oil-crisis, which began in October 1973, would likely have finished them off, the Mustang having (temporarily) vacated that market segment and the Camaro and Firebird survived only because they were cheaper to build so GM could profitably maintain production at lower levels.  Later in the decade, GM would be glad about that for the Camaro and Firebird enjoyed long, profitable Indian summers.  That career wasn't shared by the Javelin, American Motors’ belated pony car which, although actually more successful than the Barracuda, outlived it only by months.

1971 Hemi 'Cuda convertible at 2021 auction.  Note the "gills" on the front fender, an allusion to the "fish" theme although anatomically recalling a shark more than a barracuda.  

It was as an extinct species the third generations ‘Cudas achieved their greatest success... as used cars.  In 2014, one of the twelve 1971 Hemi ‘Cuda convertibles sold at auction for US$3.5 million and in 2021, another attracted a bit of US$4.8 million without reaching the reserve.  In the collector market, numbers do "bounce around a bit" and while the "post-COVID" ecosystem was buoyant, by 2024 it appears things are more subdued but, like Ferrari's Dino 246GT & GTS, the 1971 Hemi 'Cuda convertibles remains a "litmus-paper" car which is regarded as indicative of the state of the market.  The next time one is offered for sale, the fall of the hammer will be watched with interest.

Sphyraena barracuda (great barracuda).

The barracuda, most notably the Sphyraena barracuda (great barracuda), can grow quite large with lengths of 3-5 feet (0.9-1.5 metres) being common but specimens have been verified at just over 6 feet (1.8 metres), weighing in excess of 100 lb (45 KG) although most caught by recreational fishers tend to be around 20-30 lb (9-14 KG).  They’re a fast, powerful predator, making them a much sought-after target for the more adventurous anglers, attracted by their aggressive strikes, impressive speed, and challenging fights, most hunting done in warmer coastal waters.  The techniques employed include including trolling, casting with artificial lures and live bait fishing but because of their sharp teeth and aggressive nature, specialized equipment such as wire leaders is often used to prevent them cutting through fishing lines.  Among recreational fishers, the pursuit is often on the basis of “the thrill of the chase” because the species can pose genuine health risks if eaten because of ciguatera poisoning, a toxin which accumulates in the fish’s flesh when they consume smaller, contaminated fish.

Hofit Golan (b 1985; left) and Lindsay Lohan (b 1968; right) fishing off Sardinia, July 2016 (left).  Fortunately perhaps, Ms Lohan didn’t hook a barracuda and caught something less threatening.  Apparently also fishing for “the thrill of the chase” (right), she posted on Instagram: “Bonding with nature. I let my little friend swim away after.” 

Panglossian

Panglossian (pronounced pan-glos-ee-uhn or pan-glaws-ee-uhn)

(1) A naïve or unreasonably optimistic view (can be used negatively, neutrally, or positively).  

(2) Of or relating to the view that this is the best of all possible worlds (can be used negatively, neutrally, or positively).  

1758: From the character of the philosopher and tutor Dr Pangloss, in Voltaire's (the nom de plume of François-Marie Arouet (1694-1778)) satirical novella Candide (1759), the construct being Pangloss +‎ -ian.  Pan in this context is in the sense of “all”, the Modern English from the Middle English panne, from the Old English panne, from the Proto-West Germanic pannā, from the Proto-Germanic pannǭ.  It was cognate with the West Frisian panne, the Saterland Frisian Ponne, the Dutch pan, the German & Low German Panne & Pann, the German Pfanne, the Danish pande, the Swedish panna and the Icelandic panna.  Gloss is probably from a North Germanic language, the influence perhaps the Icelandic where the word was glossi (spark, flame) & glossa (to flame) or the from the dialectal Dutch gloos (a glow, flare), related to the West Frisian gloeze (a glow), from the Middle Low German glȫsen (to smolder, glow), ultimately from the Proto-Germanic glus- (to glow, shine), from Proto-Indo-European gael- (to flourish; be green or yellow); related to the modern glow.  The Greek glōssa translates literally as "tongue”.  The –ian suffix is from the Latin -iānus (the alternative forms were -ānus, -ēnus, -īnus & -ūnus); it was used to which form adjectives of belonging or origin from a noun.  Panglossian is an adjective and Panglossianism is a noun.

Voltaire's Dr Pangloss (an aptronym al la Mr Talkative & Mr Worldly Wiseman in John Bunyan’s (1628–1688) 1678 Christian allegory The Pilgrim’s Progress) was a construct of Pan in the sense of “all” and gloss in the figurative sense of something “superficially or deceptively attractive appearance”.  The comparative is more Panglossian, the superlative most Panglossian; the most commonly used synonym is Pollyannaish (from the eponymous character in the 1913 novel by US author Eleanor H Porter (1868-1920); the little girl who no matter what misfortune befalls her, manages always to find something about which to be glad).  Although a critique rather than anything hagiographic, Candide was very much a work of the Enlightenment, controversial and in some places, like the author, banned.  Voltaire created Pangloss as a parody of the German philosopher Gottfried von Leibniz (1646-1716) who claimed this is the best of all possible worlds (there are those who blame Leibniz for starting the tradition of German philosophers going mad (eg Nietzsche, Weber and (at least debatably) Hegel)).  Just to emphasize the point for English readers, some of the early translations subtitled: Candide: All for the Best (1759) & Candide: The Optimist (1762), the last re-used even in 1947.

Candide was a young man who had led a sheltered, idyllic life being tutored with Leibnizian optimism by Dr Pangloss, “the greatest philosopher of the Holy Roman Empire”.  The theme being what happens when philosophy meets the real world, the work describes Candide's slow and mournful disillusionment as he witnesses and endures the vicissitudes of earthly existence, ending with the realization that while we certainly don’t live in Leibniz’s “best of all possible worlds”, it’s still a place in which “we must cultivate our garden" and make the best of what is which Candide expresses as “all is for the best in this best of all possible worlds”.  Panglossianism is thus a byword for excessive, even exuberant, optimism and authors have had fun with it ever since, the cheeky term "panglossian pessimism" describing the idea that because this is the best of all possible worlds, improvement is impossible, a theme Joseph Heller (1923-1999) explored in one of the memorable exchanges in Catch-22 (1961).  Some 260 years on, Candide remains a pleasure to read and such is Voltaire's touch that modern readers will find much with which to identify, scenes such as the glum dinner in Vienna where the guests are all deposed ex-Kings could easily have been written any time in the last century.  One of Voltaire’s many memorable lines is in Candide, his explanation of why the Royal Navy had one of their own admirals, John Byng (1704–1757) executed by firing squad his own quarterdeck: "...mais dans ce pays-ci il est bon de tuer de tems en tems un Amiral pour encourager les autres.” (...but in this country it is found good, from time to time, to kill one Admiral to encourage the others).  However, like Shakespeare and Churchill, some quotes are attributed to him on the basis merely that they sound Voltairesque.  He really did say the “…agglomeration which was called and which still calls itself the Holy Roman Empire was in no way holy, nor Roman, nor an empire." but the story that when on his death bed a priest appeared to administer the last rites and asked: "Do you accept God, renouncing the Devil and all his works?", he answered: "This is hardly the time to be making enemies" is apocryphal.  Before it was first attributed to Voltaire in the 1970s, the joke had circulated for over a century, the dying man said variously to be Machiavelli (Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli, 1469–1527), the US Author Wilson Mizner (1876–1933) and some unidentified Irishmen and Scotsmen.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

While one of the seminal texts of the Enlightenment, Candide is also an irony-laden attack on the optimistic hopes and faith of Enlightenment thought. Voltaire’s criticism of Leibniz’s philosophy is directed mostly as his principle of sufficient reason, which maintains that nothing can be so without there being a reason why it is so, the consequence of which is the belief that the actual world must be the best one humanly possible.  Later, structural functionalists would start in much the same place and reach other conclusions.

Obliterate

Obliterate (pronounced uh-blit-uh-reyt (U) or oh-blit-uh-reyt (non-U))

(1) To remove or destroy all traces of something; do away with; destroy completely.

(2) In printing or graphic design, to blot out or render undecipherable (writing, marks, etc.); fully to efface.

(3) In medicine, to remove an organ or another body part completely, as by surgery, disease, or radiation.

1590–1600: From the Latin oblitterātus, perfect passive participle of oblitterō (blot out), from oblinō (smear over) and past participle of oblitterāre (to efface; cause to disappear, blot out (a writing) & (figuratively) cause to be forgotten, blot out a remembrance), the construct being ob- (a prefixation of the preposition ob (in the sense of “towards; against”)) + litter(a) (also litera) (letter; script) + -ātus (-ate).  The suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  True synonyms include black out, eliminate, exterminate, annihilate, eradicate, delete, erase & expunge because to obliterate something is to remove all traces.  Other words often used as synonyms don’t of necessity exactly convey that sense; they include obscure, ravage, smash, wash out, wipe out, ax, cancel and cut.  Obliterate & obliterated are verds & adjetives, obliteration & obliterator are nouns, obliterature & obliterating are nouns, verb & adjective, obliterable & obliterative are adjectives and obliteratingly is an adverb; the noun plural is obliterations.

Social anxiety can be "obliterated".  Who knew?

The verb obliterate was abstracted from the phrase literas scribere (write across letters, strike out letters).  The noun obliteration (act of obliterating or effacing, a blotting out or wearing out, fact of being obliterated, extinction) dates from the 1650s, from the Late Latin obliterationem (nominative obliteratio), the noun of action from the past-participle stem of oblitterāre (to efface; cause to disappear, blot out (a writing) & (figuratively) cause to be forgotten, blot out a remembrance).  The related late fourteenth century noun oblivion (state or fact of forgetting, forgetfulness, loss of memory) was from the thirteenth century Old French oblivion and directly from the Latin oblivionem (nominative oblivio) (forgetfulness; a being forgotten) from oblivisci, the past participle of oblitus (forget) of uncertain origin.  Oblivion is if interest to etymologists because of speculation about a semantic shift from “to be smooth” to “to forget”, the theory based on the construct being ob- (using ob in the sense of “over”) + the root of lēvis (smooth).  For this there apparently exists no documentary evidence either to prove or disprove the notion.  The Latin lēvis (rubbed smooth, ground down) was from the primitive Indo-European lehiu-, from the root (s)lei- (slime, slimy, sticky).

Obliterature

The noun obliterature is a special derived form used in literary criticism, the construct being oblit(erate) + (lit)erature.  It describes works of literature in some way "obliterated or mad void", the most celebrated (or notorious according to many) being those which "interpreted" things in a manner not intended by the original author but the words is applied also to texts deliberately destroyed, erased or rendered unreadable, either as an artistic statement or as a result of censorship, neglect, or decay.  La biblioteca de Babel" (The Library of Babel (1941)) by Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986) was a short story which imagined a universe consisting of an infinite library containing every possible book but all volumes are some way corrupted or comprise only random strings of characters; all works wholly unintelligible and thus useless.  The chaotic library was symbolic of the most extreme example of obliterature in that all works had been rendered unreadable and devoid of internal meaning.

Nazis burning books, Berlin, 1933.

Probably for a long as writing has existed, there has been censorship (and its companion: self-censorship).  Some censorship is official government policy while countless other instances exist at institutional level, sometimes as a political imperative, some time because of base commercial motives.  The most infamous examples are literary works banned or destroyed as political or religious repression including occasions when the process was one of public spectacle such as the burning of books in Nazi Germany, aimed at Jewish, communist and other “degenerate or undesirable” authors.   The critique: “They burn the books they cannot write” is often attributed German-Jewish poet, writer and literary critic Heinrich Heine (1797–1856) whose work was among the thousands of volumes placed on a bonfire in Berlin in 1933 but it’s a paraphrase of a passage from his play Almansor (1821-1822), spoken by a Muslim after Christian had burned piles of the holy Quran: “Das war ein Vorspiel nur, dort wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man auch am Ende Menschen.”  (That was but a prelude; where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people as well.")

The Address Book (1983) by French conceptual artist Sophie Calle (b 1953) was based on an address book the author found in the street which, (after photocopying the contents) she returned to the owner.  She then contacted those in the book and used the information they provided to create a narrative about the owner, a man she had never met.  This she had published in a newspaper and the man promptly threatened to sue on the grounds of a breach of his right to privacy, demanding all examples of the work in its published form be destroyed.  Duly, the obliterature was performed.  Thomas Phillips' (1937–2022) A Humument: A treated Victorian novel (in various editions 1970-2016) is regarded by most critics as an “altered” book, a class of literature in which novel media forms (often graphical artwork) are interpolated to change the appearance and sometimes elements of meaning.  Phillips use as his base a Victorian-era novel (William (WH) Mallock's (1849–1923) A Human Document (1892)) and painted over its pages, leaving only select words visible to create new narratives, many of which were surreal.  This was obliterature as artistic device and it’s of historic interest because it anticipated many of the techniques of post modernism, multi-media productions and even meme-making.

Erasure Poetry takes an existing text and either erases or blacks-out (the modern redaction technique) words or passages to create a new poem from the remaining words; in the most extreme examples almost all the original is obliterated, with only fragments left to form a new work.  Ronald Johnson (1935–1998) was a US poet who in 1977 published the book-length RADI OS (1977), based on John Milton's (1608–1674) Paradise Lost (1667-1674) and used the redactive mechanism as an artistic device, space once used by the obliterated left deliberately blank, surrounding the surviving words.

Some critics and literary theorists include unfinished and fragmentary work under the rubric of obliterature and while that may seem a bit of a definitional stretch, the point may be that such texts in many ways can resemble what post modern (and post-post modern) obliterature practitioners publish as completed work.  There are many unfinished works by the famous which have been “brought to conclusion” by contracted authors, the critical response tending to vary from the polite to the dismissive although, in fairness, it may be that some things were left unfinished for good reasons.  The Portuguese author Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935) was extraordinarily prolific and apparently never discarded a single page, leaving a vast archive of unfinished, fragmented, and often unreadable manuscripts, the volume so vast many have never been deciphered.  It’s interesting to speculate that had Pessoa had access to word processors and the cloud whether he would have saved as much; if he’d lived in the age of the floppy diskette, maybe he’d have culled a bit.

The obliteration of animal carcasses with explosives

Strictly speaking, “to obliterate something” means “to remove or destroy all traces” which usually isn’t the case when explosives are used, the result more a wide dispersal of whatever isn’t actually vaporized but there’s something about the word which attracts those who blow-up stuff and they seem often to prefer obliteration to terms which might be more accurate.  As long as the explosion is sufficiently destructive, one can see their point and obliteration does memorably convey the implications of blowing-up stuff.  The word clearly enchanted the US Forest Service which in 1995 issued their classic document Obliterating Animal Carcasses with Explosives, helpfully including a step-by-step guide to the process.  Given it’s probably not a matter about which many have given much thought, the service explained obliterating large animal carcasses was an important safety measure in wilderness recreation areas where the remains might attract bears, or near picnic areas where people obviously wouldn’t want rotting flesh nearby.  A practical aspect also is that in many cases there is no way conveniently to move or otherwise dispose of a large carcass (such as a horse or moose which can weigh in excess of 500 kg (1100 lb) which might be found below a steep cut slope or somewhere remote.  So, where physical transportation is not practical, the chemistry and physics of explosives are the obvious alternative, the guide recommending fireline devices (specially developed coils containing explosive powder), used also to clear combustible materials in the path of a wildfire. 

Interestingly, the guide notes there will be cases in which the goal might not be obliteration.  In some ecosystems, what is most desirable is to disperse the carcass locally into the small chunks suited to the eating habits of predators in the area and when properly dispersed, smaller scavenging animals will break down the left-overs, usually within a week.  To effect a satisfactory dispersal, the guide recommends placing 20 lb (9 kg) of explosives on the carcass in key locations, then using a detonator cord to tie the charges together, the idea being to locate them on the major bones, along the spine.  However, in areas where there’s much human traffic, obliteration is required and the guide recommends placing 20 lb (9 kg) pounds of explosives on top and a similar load underneath although it’s noted this may be impossible if the carcass is too heavy, frozen into the ground, floating in water or simply smells too ghastly for anyone to linger long enough to do the job.  In that case, 55 lb (25 kg) of fireline should be draped over the remains although the actual amount used will depend on the size of the carcass, the general principle being the more explosives used, the greater the chance obliteration will be achieved.  Dispersal and obliteration are obviously violent business but it’s really just an acceleration of nature’s decomposition process.  Whereas a big beast like a horse can sit for months without entirely degrading, if explosives are used, in most cases after little more than a week it’d not be obvious an animal was ever there.  With regard to horses however, the guide does include the warning that prior to detonation, “horseshoes should be removed to minimize dangerous flying debris.”  Who knew?

It’s important enough explosives are used to achieve the desired result but in carcass disposal it's important also not to use too much.  In November 1970, the Oregon Highway Division was tasked with blowing up a 45-foot (14 m) eight-ton (8100 kg) decaying whale which lay on the shores near the town of Florence and they calculated it would need a half-ton (510 kg) of dynamite, the presumption being any small pieces would be left for seagulls and other scavengers.  Unfortunately, things didn’t go according to plan.  The viewing crowds had been kept a quarter-mile (400 m) from the blast-site but they were forced to run for cover as large chunks of whale blubber started falling on them and the roof of a car parked even further away was crushed.  Fortunately there were no injuries although most in the area were splattered with small pieces of dead whale.  Fifty years on, Florence residents voted to name a new recreation ground Exploding Whale Memorial Park in honor of the event.