Termagant

Termagant (pronounced tur-muh-guhnt)

(1) A mythical deity popularly believed in Medieval Christendom to be worshiped by Muslims and introduced into the morality play as a violent, overbearing personage in long robes (a proper noun and thus used with initial capital).

(2) A brawling, boisterous, and turbulent person or thing (archaic).

(3) A censorious, nagging, scolding and quarrelsome woman (not exactly synonymous with “harridan”, “virago” or “shrew” but with a similar flavor of disapprobation); for those who find some women worse than others, the comparative is “more termagant”, the superlative “most termagant”.

(4) The act of behaving violently; turbulent conduct.

Circa 1500: From the Middle English Termagaunt (one of the three fictitious deities (others being Apollin & Mahound) represented as being worshipped by Muslims; any pagan god), from the from the Anglo-Norman Tervagant, Tervagaunt & Tervagan and the Old French Tervagant & Tervagan, a name bestowed on a wholly fictitious Muslim deity, created by Christian polemicists to use in medieval morality plays as a symbol of the Islamic faith.  In the Old French, Tervagant was a proper name in the eleventh century chanson de geste (song of heroic deeds (from the Classical Latin gesta (deeds, actions accomplished)) Chanson de Roland (Song of Roland).  The epic poem is the oldest known work of substantial length in French still extant and was drawn from the exploits of the Frankish military commander Roland at the Battle of Roncevaux Pass (778) during the reign of Charlemagne (748–814; “Charles the Great” and (retrospectively) the first Holy Roman Emperor 800-814).  That the text (more correctly “texts” as a number of variants have been identified) survived to this day is accounted for by the work’s popularity; it was between the twelfth and sixteenth centuries among the most widely distributed pieces of literature in Medieval and Renaissance Europe.  The alternative spelling was termagant.  Termagant is a noun & adjective, termagancy & termagantism are nouns, termagantish is an adjective, and termagantly is an adverb; the noun plural is Termagants.

The ultimate origin of the word is a mystery but the most supported theory suggests the construct being based on the Latin ter (three times, thrice) (from the primitive Indo- European tréyes (three)) + vagāns (rambling, wandering) (present active participle of vagor (to ramble, roam, wander), from vagus (rambling, roaming, wandering) (the source of which may be the primitive Indo-European hwogos) + -or (an inflected form of -ō (the suffix forming regular first-conjugation verbs)).  Given that possible etymology, it’s argued the appearance of Termagant in Chanson de Roland as one of the three deities allegedly worshipped by Muslims was an allusion to the wandering of the moon (the crescent moon a well-known symbol of Islam) in the form of the mythological goddesses Selene in heaven, Diana on Earth, and Proserpina in the underworld.  The adjective was derived from the original proper noun, the sense of a “violent, overbearing person” (later applied especially to “difficult” women) evolving because Christian scribes always applied these characteristics to the figure; the meaning shift was thus a “partial transfer” in that the unpleasant personality was carried over to earthly flesh and blood with no suggestion of anything supernatural. 

Al Malik Al Ahmar (The Red Jinn-King) from an eighteenth century edition of the the Arabic manuscript of Kitab al Bulhan (Book of Wonders).

The Termagant was a wholly mythical deity invented by Christian writers in Middle Ages who claimed it was a figure worshiped by Muslims.  Depicted as a violent, overbearing personage in long robes, unlike a number of cross-cultural creations there was no figure which existed specifically in Islamic belief, theology, or folklore that could be said to be a model for the fanciful imaginings of Christian polemicists so it was “fake news” rather than a distorted version of a figure in what was in the West long called Mohammedanism (also a misleading tern because of the implication Muhammad is worshiped by Muslims; In Islam only Allah (God) is worshiped while Muhammad is venerated as His greatest prophet).  This was all part of Christianity’s misrepresentation of Islamic theology as not monotheist and thus in violation of first two of the Ten Commandments in the Old Testament’s Book of Exodus: (1) Thou shall worship no other Gods and (2) Thou shall not create false idols.  It was a blatant untruth because strictly Islam was tawḥīd (monotheistic) and explicitly proscribed even the suggestion of a pantheon of gods.  Unlike Christianity’s claims about Jesus Christ, the prophet Muhammad was never said to be divine and was never worshipped.  Thus, the so-called “Saracen trinity” in medieval texts has no basis in Islamic doctrine although that didn’t prevent the notion spreading and being believed and variants of the techniques of dissemination have since been practiced by propagandists such as priests and politicians.

An Islamic miniature (1595) depicting Iblīs (top right) plotting against Muhammad watching over a meeting by the leaders of the Quraysh discussing the second pledge at al-Aqabah, being spied on by the anti-Islamic zealot “the Monk” Abu ʿĀmir al-Rāhib, who is part of Iblīs' plan, New York Public Library collection.

It’s true that there were then (as there are now) in Islam many figures of authority cloaked in long, dark robes but that was true also of Christianity and other faiths.  By the late Middle Ages, even if the fake theology was proving unconvincing, the secular appeal of such a menacing figure was real and especially in English theatre (where there was often more leeway granted by the censors of church & state than elsewhere in Europe), the termagant evolved into a stock character: ranting, tyrannical, bombastic and often dressed in a costume of a type which late in the twentieth century the Palestinian-American academic Edward Said (1935–2003) in Orientalism (1978) identified as a clichéd “exoticized Eastern costume” (another Western construct).  Of Termagant Apollin & Mahound, although there are in the Islamic tradition no true analogues, there are figures (perhaps better thought of as “concepts”) in which there are vague or superficial resemblances to the stereotype although there was never a hint they should be worshiped.  The جنّ (Jinn) were supernatural beings made of “smokeless fire” and although some were rebellious or violent, depending on this and that, they might be benevolent, neutral, or malevolent but were certainly not deities to be worshipped and seem never to have been depicted as despotic tyrants in the theatrical sense of the Termagant of the Christian imagination.  Best known in the West was إبليس (Iblīs/Shayṭān (Satan)) who existed as the primary adversarial figure in Islam and one representing arrogance, rebellion, and temptation.  Iblīs however seems closer to the Christian Satan than a “false god”, not being nor portrayed as a blustering theatrical tyrant in robes.  Most interesting in the tradition were the طاغية (ẓālim; the tyrannical rulers), a crew made especially interesting in the last few months, following the ayatollahs’ recent bloody crackdown on the streets of Iran to ensure regime survival, the death-toll in January 2026 believed to have exceeded 30,000 and the author and public policy analyst Robert Templer (b 1966) has estimated that on at least two days that month, there were more were killed in state-sanctioned violence than on any day since the end of World War II (1939-1945), his calculations including the genocides in Cambodia, Rwanda and the Balkans.  The Qurʾān condemns unjust rulers (such as the Pharaohs) and to make the point, the ẓālim tended to be overbearing, violent and arrogant.  Those Iranians killed by the thousand while chanting “Death to the dictator!” would have recognized what the Qurʾān condemns but the pattern is known from history.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, right) with former special friend Samantha Ronson (b 1977, left).  The couple were a tabloid staple in 2008-2009 but at the time the question often asked was whether a relationship between one “quite termagant” and another “more termagant” could long be sustained.  As was predicted, things ended badly.  There seems no evidence there ever was a collective noun for Termagants.  If one is needed, it’s be something like a “tempest”, “scold”, “railing” or “fury” of termagants.

By March 1945, it was obvious to most in Berlin that the end was nigh and one individual brought to the attention of Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) a salient passage in his political manifesto Mein Kampf (1925-1926): “The task of diplomacy is to ensure that a nation does not heroically go to its destruction but is practically preserved.  Every way that leads to this end is expedient, and a failure to follow it must be called criminal neglect of duty.  State authority as an end in itself cannot exist, since in that case every tyranny on this earth would be sacred and unassailable.  If a racial entity is being led toward its doom by means of governmental power, then the rebellion of every single member of such a Volk is not only a right, but a duty.”  Unmoved, Hitler responded: “If the war is lost, the people will be lost also.  It is not necessary to worry about what the German people will need for elemental survival.  On the contrary, it is best for us to destroy even these things.  For the nation has proved to be the weaker, and the future belongs solely to the stronger eastern nation.  In any case only those who are inferior will remain after this struggle, for the good have already been killed.”  Presumably, Grand Ayatollah Ali Khamenei (1939-2026; Supreme Leader, Islamic Republic of Iran 1989-2026) would have concurred with the sentiments for, just as the Germans had “failed Hitler”, those Iranians chanting “Death to the dictator!” had failed him, thus the holy duty to kill them, not for a motive as base as “regime survival” but because the protesters were attacking Islam and thus Allah himself.  In the Supreme Leader’s theological construct, killing thousands in defense of God was not merely justified but an obligation.

Over time, in English, “a termagant” came to mean a scolding or overbearing person, a meaning wholly detached from its supposed origin in religion and under a number of influences, it came to be used mostly of women.  The most significant of these influences was literature and the stage, use shifting from elaborate epics about the crusades to popular entertainment.  As a constructed theological fiction Termagant was anyway perfect for the playwright and had it not existed it surely would have been created, violence, bluster, and irrational fury staples of drama.  For students of such things, the shift from the ranting tyrant to the “stock stage villain” was interesting because in the latter role the Termagant needed sometimes to be a comic character, bombastic and shouting with deliberate “overacting” often in the stage directions.

The elongated John Cleese (b 1939) and Andrew Sachs (1930-2016) in Basil the Rat (25 October, 1979) the final episode in the BBC comedy series Fawlty Towers (12 episodes in two series (1975 & 1979)).  It was in the Fawlty Towers episode The Germans (24 October, 1975) that the phrase “Don't mention the war” was introduced by Basil at his most termagant and in that case Shakespeare would have instructed Cleese to “out-herod Herod”.

So in early Modern English, the shift began from character to adjective and with the use in stage drama expanding during the sixteenth century, the transition accelerated.  When William Shakespeare (1564–1616) had Sir John Falstaff faking his own death (Act 5, Scene 4) in Henry IV, Part 1 (circa 1596), he spoke of the fierce Scottish rebel, Archibald, Earl of Douglas as “that hot termagant Scot” and by then there was no hint of any connection to alleged Islamic deities; it was just about the man’s turbulent, violet nature.  Shakespeare’s characters run the gamut of the human condition, something sometimes misunderstood by those who associate him only with what’s understood as “high culture” but he knew that while “overacting” sometimes was essential for comic effect  otherwise it needed sedulously to be avoided. In his stage instructions for Hamlet (circa 1600) he cautioned the cast: “Oh, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.”  That instruction also assumed a new life, appearing in modified form in All's Well That Ends Well (circa 1602) as “out-villain'd villainy” before in the 1800s “out-herods Herod” came widely to be used as a critique of any behaviour thought “excessive” and by then, in stage productions, “termagant” explicitly was invoked as verbal shorthand for the sort of strident ranting sometimes required.

The suggestion that Basil Fawlty may be thought a “Shakespearian” character is not flippant and is in the vein of the observation by the English actor Sir Peter Ustinov (1921–2004) that were the Italian painter of the Early Renaissance Sandro Botticelli (circa 1445-1510) alive today: “he'd be working for Vogue”.  One suspects Shakespeare would have been proud to have created a figure like the evil J.R. Ewing (from the US TV series Dallas (1978-1991)) or penned a line like “Round up the usual suspects!” (from the movie Casablanca (1942)).  The works of Sir Pelham “P.G.” Wodehouse (1881–1975) have a certain charm which exerts a powerful pull on some critics and often he’s cited as a twentieth century popular author reaching a similar audience to that for which Shakespeare wrote centuries earlier.  The politician and diarist Woodrow Wyatt (1918–1997) reckoned: “There are almost as many quotations in Wodehouse as Shakespeare” and the usually acerbic Auberon Waugh (1939–2001) mused: “The failure of academic literary criticism to take any account of Woodhouse’s supreme mastery of the English language or the profound influence he has had on every worthwhile English novelist of the last 50 years demonstrates in better and concise form than anything else how the English literature industry is divorced from the subject it claims to study.”  His point was well-made although it may have been a little back-handed, old Auberon Waugh probably not thinking the last fifty years had produced many “worthwhile” novelists.

Color plate of Sir John Falstaff by Giovan Battista Galizzi (1882-1963) from The Life and Death of Sir John Falstaff (1923, with an introduction by lawyer George Radford (1851-1917)).

Even before the scientific and technical advances of the last two centuries-odd led to a proliferation of creations, the English language's vocabulary was famously large and while some categories have been more more productive than others, few proved quite as imaginatively fecund as (1) coinings and re-purposings to describe female body parts and (2) terms with which to demonize or disparage women (termagant one of the latter).  After the dubious link with Islam had been discarded, termagant was understood as someone blustering, noisy and tyrannical; it was in the late sixteenth century there was a distinct gender shift and the word became specifically female, associated less with domineering violence and more with shrillness, emotional excess, and scolding, performed in a theatrical style that audiences coded as unseemly or grotesque, applying the word to “difficult” women in the world beyond.  It was a time of profound social and political change and as social norms in England hardened around ideals of female deference, obedience and modesty, the label migrated: While for men “termagant” had meant (depending on context) threatening or ridiculous, when applied to women it suggested social transgression.  It wasn’t quite Taliban-level repression but women with minds of their own were apt to be judged quarrelsome, overbearing and scolding, terms like “shrew” & “virago” becoming termagant’s companion terms.  At this point, lexical fossilization set in and by the mid-1700, the original sense (the fictional deity) had faded into obscurity with the meaning stabilized as “a domineering, bad-tempered woman”, thus the adjectival form “termagant behaviour”.  To etymologists, the long process was an interesting case study in that the mechanism of changed happened in phases, the theatrical and religious origins surviving only as residual footnotes while the metonymic shifts were driven by changing cultural norms, not grammatical rules.

The Royal Navy's Talisman-class destroyer, HMS Termagant, 1916.

It was of course a good name for a warship and between 1780 and 1965, the British Admiralty from time to time had seven HMS Termagants attached to the Royal Navy’s fleets, the last launched in 1943.  One with a vague connection to the original meaning was a Talisman-class destroyer, ordered originally by the Ottoman Empire but in 1915 requisitioned by the Admiralty (as HMS Narborough) before being renamed built HMS Termagant.  Despite the expectations of decades, World War I (1914-1918) was not a conflict of great naval clashes and although she took part in the Battle of Jutland (1916, which seemed at the time anti-climatic but was strategically decisive), her record was not illustrious and, sold for scrap in 1921, she was broken up two years later.

Anthony Albanese (b 1963; prime-minister of Australia since 2022, left) and his wife Jodie Haydon (b 1979, centre) with Grace Tame (b 1994; activist and advocate for survivors of sexual assault, right) in photo opportunity before a morning tea at the Lodge (the prime minister’s residence), Canberra, Australia, January, 2025.

The “Fuck Murdoch” T-Shirt she made famous was worn with a purpose.  Happy to discuss the provocative fashion piece, Ms Tame said the message wasn’t aimed just at media mogul Rupert Murdoch (b 1931) but rather the “obscene greed, inhumanity and disconnection that he symbolises, which are destroying our planet.  For far too long this world and its resources have been undemocratically controlled by a small number of morbidly wealthy oligarchs.  If we want to dismantle this corrupt system, if we want legitimate climate action, equity, truth, justice, democracy, peace, land back, etc, then resisting forces like Murdoch is a good starting point.  Speaking truth to power starts at the grassroots level with simple, effective messages. It’s one of my favourite shirts.”

A difficult woman's sceptical glance: Grace Tame (right) looking at Scott Morrison, Canberra, Australia, January 2022.

Ms Tame had previously provided photographers with some good snaps, most memorably her stony “side-eye” expression to Scott Morrison (b 1968; Australian prime minister 2018-2022), another politician she deemed not to have treated allegations of sexual assault and toxic workplace culture in federal parliament with sufficient seriousness, noting his casual dismissal of her as having “had a terrible life”.  Less than amused at some of the commentary about her sideways glance, she tweeted on X (the called Twitter) that some in the media appeared to have reduced the matter of survival from abuse to a culture “…dependent on submissive smiles, self-defeating surrenders and hypocrisy”, adding “What I did wasn’t an act of martyrdom in the gender culture war.”   Expanding things to a construct, she explained: “It’s true that many women are sick of being told to smile, often by men, for the benefit of men. But it’s not just women who are conditioned to smile and conform to the visibly rotting status-quo. It’s all of us.”

If Anthony Albanese didn't previously think Grace Tame was “a difficult woman”, he probably now does.

In Australian political discourse, “termagant” has not often been heard but ALP (Australian Labor Party) luminary Kim Beazley (b 1948) did in 2008 so label the Liberal Party’s Tony Abbott (b 1957; prime-minister of Australia 2013-2015); while a by then untypical use, it did prove the word was still used of men.  Unfortunately, that seems not to have stuck in the mind of mind of the ALP’s Anthony Albanese (b 1963; prime-minister of Australia since 2022) who, during a “rapid-fire word association game” at a function organized by Mr Murdoch’s News Corp, was prompted with “Grace Tame” to which he responded “difficult”.  The remarks were noted by Ms Tame who had in the past been critical of politicians who she claimed treated her as a “problem to be managed” rather than doing anything substantive to prevent sexual abuse or assist survivors.  Whether it would have been any better had he be called her “termagant” rather than “difficult” is debatable but at least the history of Mr Abbott being so labelled would have meant it could be argued it wasn’t a “gendered” word (the history of the last few centuries notwithstanding).  Probably the best choice for Mr Albanese would have been “formidable” in the sense of the French très formidable meaning something like “wonderful” or “terrific”, such a woman being une femme formidable.  Formidable was from the Middle English formidable, from the Old French formidable & formible, from the Latin formīdābilis (formidable, terrible), from formīdō (fear, dread); it was another example of a meaning shift.  In fairness to Mr Albanese, it was a spur-of-the-moment response to an unexpected prompt and, in an attempt to make things better, he explained: “I was asked to describe people in one word and Grace Tame you certainly can’t describe in one word.  She has had a difficult life, and that was what I was referring to.  If there was any misinterpretation, then I certainly apologise. I think that Grace Tame has taken what is personal trauma and that awful experience that she had and channelled that into helping, in particular, other young women, being a strong and powerful advocate, being quite courageous in the way that she has gone out there.”  That probably made things worse.  Unimpressed, Ms Tame (a most adept media player) issued a statement: “Spare me the condescension, old man”, suggesting Mr Albanese was paraphrasing Scott Morrison who’d once explained her attitude as the consequence of a “terrible life”.  Continuing her critique, she added: “We all know what you meant. A badge of honour anyway.  A confession that I’ve ruffled him.”  On social media, she found much support, one posting: “‘Difficult’ is the misogynist’s code for a woman who won’t comply.  History tends to call her ‘courageous’.”

Australian Femicide Watch's Difficult Woman T-shirt in red (also available in seven other colors.  The fingernail shape is a stiletto.

Ms Tame must have resisted the temptation to order a batch of “Fuck Albo” T-shirts which shows some generosity of spirit but the Australian Femicide Watch's Red Heart Movement is offering “Difficult Woman” T-shirts with Aus$5.00 from each sale donated to the Grace Tame Foundation.  The garments are made with 100% combed organic cotton grown without the use of herbicides or pesticides and certified as compliant to the GOTS (Global Organic Textile Standard).  Depressingly, Australian Femicide Watch tracks the death toll of women in Australia killed in “intimate partner violence”; in 2025 the rate was 1.44 per week and by the first week in April 2026, 1.23.

Crooked Hillary Clinton, the termagant of the last four decades.

Although it’s Donald Trump’s (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) “crooked” moniker which will forever be attached to crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013), more than most women who have dared trespass on the historic male preserve of politics, she has attracted gender-based terms of disparagement.  Not content only with words from English, Mr Trump also borrowed from Yiddish, referring to her failure to secure the Democrat nomination for the 2008 presidential election as having been “schlonged by Barack Obama” (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017) in the primaries.  A schlong (from the Yiddish שלאַנג (shlang) (snake)) is “a penis” and usually carries the implication of “a big one” so his idea was one of “man beats woman”; as “woman beats man”, the closest companion term is “pussy whipped” which for men obviously is quite a put-down.  Crooked Hillary has also been called “a tough little termagant in a pantsuit”, “the virago of Pennsylvania Avenue”, “calculating”, “disingenuous”, “a radical feminist”, “a harridan” (a bossy or belligerent old woman), a “femocrat”, a “feminazi”, “a succubus” (a female demon who had sex with sleeping men”, “Lady Macbeth in a headband”, “Ms bad-hair day” and “a shrew”.  All very sexist of course and there also been a debate about whether she should be called a “habitual” or “pathological” liar but she shouldn't complain about that; she has “a bit of previous”.

Superbird

Superbird (pronounced soo-per-burd)

(1) A single-season (1970) version of the Plymouth Road Runner with certain aerodynamic enhancements, built to fulfil homologation requirements for use in competition.

(2) A one-off Falcon XA GT built by Ford Australia for the motor show circuit in 1973.

(3) A series of 700-odd XA Falcon Hardtops (RPO77) built by Ford Australia in 1973.

1969: The construct was super + bird.  The Middle English super was a re-purposing of the prefix super-, from the Latin super, from the Proto-Italic super, from the primitive Indo-European upér (over, above) and cognate with the Ancient Greek ὑπέρ (hupér).  In this context, it was used as an adjective suggesting “excellent quality, better than usual; wonderful; awesome, excellent etc.  Bird was from the Middle English bird & brid, from the Old English bridd (chick, fledgling, chicken).  The origin was a term used of birds that could not fly (chicks, fledglings, chickens) as opposed to the Old English fugol (from which English gained the modern “fowl”) which was the general term for “flying birds”.  From the earlt to mid-fourteenth century, “bird” increasingly supplanted “fowl” as the most common term.  Superbird is a noun; the noun plural is Superbirds and an initial capital is appropriate for all (standard) uses because Superbird is a product name.  If used as hoc for some other purposes, it should probably be without the initial capital.

Of super- and supra-

The super- prefix was a learned borrowing of the Latin super-, the prefix an adaptation of super, from the Proto-Italic super, from the primitive Indo-European upér (over, above) and cognate with the Ancient Greek ὑπέρ (hupér).  It was used to create forms conveying variously (1) an enhanced sense of inclusiveness, (2) beyond, over or upon (the latter notable in anatomy where the a super-something indicates it's "located above"), (3) greater than (in quantity), (4) exceptionally or unusually large, (5) superior in title or status (sometimes clipped to "super"), (6) of greater power or potency, (7) intensely, extremely or exceptional and (8) of supersymmetry (in physics).  The standard antonym was “sub” and the synonyms are listed usually as “on-, en-, epi-, supra-, sur-, ultra- and hyper-” but both “ultra” and “hyper-” have in some applications been used to suggest a quality beyond that implied by the “super-” prefix.  In English, there are more than a thousand words formed with the super- prefix.  The supra- prefix was a learned borrowing from the Latin suprā-, the prefix an adaptation of the preposition suprā, from the Old Latin suprād & superā, from the Proto-Italic superād and cognate with the Umbrian subra.  It was used originally to create forms conveying variously (1) above, over, beyond, (2) greater than; transcending and (3) above, over, on top (in anatomy thus directly synonymous with super) but in modern use supra- tends to be differentiated in that while it can still be used to suggest “an enhanced quality or quantity”, it’s now more common for it to denote physical position or placement in spatial terms.

Superbirds of the northern & southern hemispheres

1969 Dodge Daytona (red) & 1970 Plymouth Road Runner Superbird (blue).

The Plymouth Superbird was a "homologation special" built only for the 1970 model year.  By the mid-1950s, various race categories sanctioned by NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) had become popular with both competitors and audiences, something which induced the manufacturers, more or less openly, to provide resources to the teams running their products.  This had started modestly enough with the supply of parts and technical assistance but so tied up with prestige did success become that some created competition departments and, officially and not, ran teams or provided so much financial support that effectively they functioned as factory operations.  NASCAR had begun as a "stock" car series in the literal sense that the first cars used were "showroom stock" with only minimal modifications but that didn't last long, cheating soon rife and in the interests of spectacle (ie higher speeds and thus more crashes), certain "performance enhancements" were permitted although the rules were always intended to maintain the original spirit of using cars which were "close" to those sold from the showroom floor.

Lindsay Lohan's artwork for her cover of Anything (originally on the album The High Road (2006) by JoJo (stage name of Joanna Levesque (b 1990)).

Despite NASCAR's efforts, the cheating didn't stop although the teams became more adept in its practice and one model produced by Chrysler's Dodge division typified the way manufactures worked within the homologation rules to game the system.  The rules (having to build and sell a minimum number of a certain model in that specification) had been intended to restrict the use of cars to “volume production” models available to the general public but in 1956 Dodge did a special run of what it called the D-500 (an allusion to the number which had to built to be “legal” under NASCAR regulations).  Finding a loophole in the interpretation of the word “option” the D-500 appeared in the showrooms with a V8 rated at a then impressive 260 HP (horsepower).  Distinguished by crossed-flag “500” emblems on the hood (bonnet) and trunk (boot) lid, the model was Dodge’s high-performance offering for the season and had things been left at that, it wouldn't have been in any way exceptional.

Lindsay Lohan, as a superbird: generative AI (artificial intelligence) rendering by Stable Diffusion.

The trickery however lay in the option list, knowledgeable buyers able to "tick the box" for the D-500-1 (or DASH-1) option, which made one's D-500 close to race-ready and, to ensure eligibility in NASCAR’s various competitions, it could be ordered as a two-door sedan, hardtop or convertible.  In its default configuration with dual four-barrel carburetors, the D-500-1's 315 cubic inch (5.2 litre) V8 thought to produce around 285 HP but more significant was the inclusion of heavy-duty suspension and braking components, more valuable on the circuits than additional power.  It was a successful endeavour which both triggered an "arms race" between the manufacturers and intensified the ongoing battle with the NASCAR regulators who did not wish to see their series transformed into something contested by specialized racing cars which bore only a superficial resemblance to the “showroom stock”.  Well before the 2020s, it was obvious NASCAR had surrendered to the inevitable but more than a decade, the battle raged.

Evening (The Fall of Day) (1869–1870), charcoal, crayon), oil & graphite on canvas by English-born US artist William Rimmer (1816–1879), Museum of Fine Arts Boston, Massachusetts.

That someone ran a Stable Diffusion prompt to depict Lindsay Lohan with wings is in the long tradition of winged humans, something in the imagination at least since the tale of Ικαρος (Icarus) was told in the mythology of Antiquity.  In the best-known version, Icarus was the son of Daedalus and one of Minos' slaves called Naucrate and it was when Daedalus explained to Ariadne how Theseus could find a way to escape the Labyrinth, so enraged was Minos he imprisoned Daedalus and his son in the structure.  Undeterred, Daedalus took fallen feathers and fashioned wings for them both, applying wax to fix them to their shoulders; a cautious parent, Daedalus warned Icarus to fly neither too close to the ground nor too near the sun.  Icarus however was headstrong and, finding the power of flight intoxicating, soared higher and higher until he was so close to the sun the heat melted the wax, disintegrating his wings; no longer a superbird, he fell into the sea around the island of Samos and drowned.  As a tribute, the sun god Helios called the body of water the Ικάριο Πέλαγος (Ikario Pelagos) (Icarian Sea), the name still used of the stretches of the Aegean between the Cyclades and Asia Minor (the modern-day Türkiye Cumhuriyeti (Republic of Türkiye, still often referred to as Turkey)).  Other versions from Antiquity have him drowning in nautical accidents but generally his name is used as a cautionary tale about the consequences of not heeding the advice of those who know better although, curiously, there’s also the odd reference to him having invented woodwork and carpentry.  In Rimmer’s evocative drawing, the model has always been presumed to be the doomed Icarus but the artist may also have had in mind the fallen angel Lucifer, the imagery of a prideful descent perhaps influenced by John Milton’s (1608–1674) Paradise Lost (1667) or Dante Alighieri’s (circa 1265–1321) Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)).

LP (long playing) album label for Led Zeppelin’s Presence (1976), issued by Atlantic Recording Corporation on the Swansong label.

The English graphic art production house Hipgnosis (best known for album covers which were (in the pre-CD (compact disc) era) for a quarter century-odd a vibrant part of the pop-art world) used Rimmer’s Evening as a model for the logo of Swan Song Records, set up in 1974 by the English band Led Zeppelin (1968-1974) after the expiration of their distribution contract with Atlantic Records (which anyway handled the distribution of Swan Song’s products).  The idea was to combine the imagery of Rimmer with the wings of a white swan and the notion of “songs”.  At the time, the popular music business substantially was controlled by the major labels and Swan Song was one of a number of (usually short-lived) labels created in an attempt to give musicians who could not secure a recording contract a way of having their output reach audiences.  Although the label remains active for the purposes of re-issuing older material, after the surviving members of Led Zeppelin disbanded in 1980, there were only spasmodic releases until in 1983 it was announced active operations would cease and no new contracts would be executed.

1970 Plymouth Superbird (left) and 1969 Dodge Daytona (right). Despite the obvious conceptual and visual similarities, it's when two are seen in close proximity (especially in profile) that the differences become more obvious, the Superbird's nose-cone less pointed, the rear wing higher with a rake more acute.  

By 1969, NASCAR's regulators had fine-tuned their rules restricting engine power and, further to "equalize" things, had mandated minimum weights.  Scope for innovation was thus limited so manufacturers turned to the then less policed field of aerodynamics, ushering what came to be known as the "aero-cars" and it was an era when the discipline had become suddenly fashionable, wings and spoilers sprouting on the cars used in Formula One and the Can-Am (the wonderful series for (Group 7) unlimited displacement sports cars) although initially, Chrysler's approach had been a modest "tweaking" rather than a radical alteration of the lines.  When the aerodynamics of the sleek-looking 1968 Charger proved to be unexpectedly inefficient, Dodge for 1969 modified the most suspect areas at the front and rear, "smoothing out" the air-flow and labelling the result the "Charger 500" in a nod to the NASCAR homologation rules which demanded for eligibility the production of 500 mechanically identical cars.  However, unlike the quite subtle modifications which proved so successful for Ford’s Torino Talladega and Mercury’s Cyclone Spoiler, what was done to created the 500 did not resolve the issues so production ceased after 392 were built.  Dodge solved the problem of the missing 108 needed for homologation purposes by subsequently introducing a different "Charger 500" which was just a trim level and nothing to do with homologation but, honor apparently satisfied on both sides, NASCAR turned to the telescope the same blind eye chosen when it became clear Ford with the Talladega and Cyclone Spoiler had also "bent the rules" a bit.

The rear wings (like the nosecone, the units on the Daytona and Superbird were not interchangeable) genuinely were there for the aerodynamic advantage they conferred but there were possibilities for repurposing.  Most of the photographs (left) of “washing hanging out to dry” from a wing were staged for comic effect but, between events, racing drivers really would use the structure as a place to air sweaty race overalls while for photographers, amateurs and professionals alike, the wings also proved an irresistible prop which could be adorned with decorative young ladies.  Had OnlyFans existed in the era, it can be guaranteed some content providers would have been juxtaposed against a Superbird’s wing.

Not discouraged by the 500's aerodynamic recalcitrance, Dodge recruited engineers from Chrysler's aerospace & missile division (which was being shuttered because Richard Nixon's (1913-1994; US VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974) détente era had arrived and the US & Soviet Union were beginning their arms-reduction programmes) and quickly created the Daytona, adding to the 500 a protruding nosecone and high wing at the rear.  As successful on the track as the scale-models had been in the wind-tunnel, this time the required 500 really were built (a reported 503 leaving the line).  Not best-pleased, NASCAR responded by again moving the goalposts, requiring manufacturers to build one example of each vehicle for at least half their registered dealers (exclusive or shared) so, there at the time being a reported 3832 franchised Plymouth dealers in the US, duly the company built a reported 1935 Road Runner Superbirds (although NASCAR apparently stopped counting once they'd verified the existence of the 1920 which satisfied their rules).  It was an exercise probably more expensive for Plymouth than Dodge because it's believed neither division made any profit on their "homologation cars" and some claim each was invoiced to dealers at a loss.  Now more unhappy than ever, NASCAR lawyered-up and drafted rules which included restricting the aero cars to an engine displacement of 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) while permitting the rest of the field to run the full 7.0 litres (427 cubic inch); this rendered the aero-cars uncompetitive and their brief, shining moment ended.

Blondes have more fun: Emelia Hartford (b 1993) and her 1970 Plymouth Superbird at the Goodyear San Angelo Proving Grounds.  Before her restoration efforts, it had for 30 years sat neglected.

The estimable Emelia Hartford both builds and races cars and in 2025 she took a fully-restored NASCAR race Superbird to the high-speed test track at Goodyear’s San Angelo Proving Grounds facility in Texas.  Although in 1970 the boffins at Chrysler had studied their slide-rules and calculated that, in NASCAR-spec, a Superbird could not, even under ideal conditions, achieve 220 mph (354 km/h), it was an age of empiricists and nobody would be convinced until the rubber hit the road.  The numbers really did come from slide-rules and pencil & paper because, although engineers were by then using computers (they took up entire rooms), for many calculations, the old ways produced results more quickly.  Ms Hartford has a presence on YouTube and among her viewers must be some of Goodyear’s staff because somewhere in the corporate memory was jogged the recollection of the day, all those years ago, when a NASCAR Superbird had not quite hit the 220 mph mark.  Goodyear thus extended Ms Hartford an invitation to the proving grounds to see if it really was possible; it transpired the slide-rule operators had, more than a half century earlier, been right, the restored Superbird achieving 211 mph (340 km/h).

1969 Ford Torino Sportsroof (left), 1969 Ford Torino Talladega (centre) and 1970 Ford Torino Sportsroof (left).  What Ford did for its aero cars was much less dramatic than what Chrysler's missile engineers concocted but the modifications proved remarkable effective.  The 1970 Torino (the design language of which Ford Australia adopted for the Falcon Hardtop (1972-1978)), although it look sleek and the racing teams were promised “specific efficiencies”, proved less slippery than the Talladega so team managers for some time continued to use the older platform.

Given more power than they had when run in NASCAR spec, the aero cars could go faster but Ford’s experiments had proved what their calculations had suggested: above 190 mph, it would take an additional 50 HP to achieve an additional 3 mph (5 km/h) but an even greater increase would be realized simply by slightly altering the shape of the nose, lowering the leading edge by about an inch (25mm).  Under the rules, it was impossible to gain 50 HP but the rhinoplasty, although at a glance imperceptible to the untrained eye, successfully delivered the improved performance of the Talladega and Cyclone Spoiler.  The point was emphasised when in 1971 one of the Daytonas just rendered unlawful by NASCAR was taken to the Bonneville Salt Flats where it was used to set 28 USAC (United States Auto Club) & FIA (Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile, the International Automobile Federation) world speed records.  Although modified to produce more power and fitted with low-drag tyres and a very tall (ie numerically low) final drive ratio, even under Bonneville’s ideal conditions, the top speeds recorded were 216.465 mph (348.367) over a flying mile and 217.368 (349.820) over a flying kilometre.  Ms Hartford's 211 mph run was thus both impressive and in line with expectations but more may have been possible because, as the NASCAR teams discovered, fitting simple "smooth" fibreglass covers atop the A-pillars delivered a precious 1 mph (1.6 km/h).

The graphic for the original Road Runner (1968, left) and the version used for the Superbird (1970, right).  The image was used under licence from Warner Brothers, as was the distinctive "meep-meep" tone of the horn (the horn button on the steering wheel actually read "beep beep"), the engineering apparently as simple as replacing the aluminium strands in the mechanism with copper windings.  The fee for the cartoon character was US$50,000 with the rights to the "beep-beep" invoiced at a further US$10,000; both proved sound investments.  

Discounted Superbird, 1970.  When new, the seriously weird looking machines often lingered on lots and deals had to be done; nobody could have anticipated what they'd become a half-century on.

So extreme in appearance were the cars (at certain angles, distinctly they were ungainly) they proved at the time sometimes hard to sell and as well as being heavily discounted, some were converted back to the standard Road Runner specification by dealers anxious to get them out of the showroom (a generation on, some Volkswagen dealers resorted to the same approach after US buyers proved less attracted to the Harlequin Golfs than Europeans had been to the Harlekin Polos).  Views changed over time and they're now much sought by collectors, the record known price paid for a Superbird being US$1,650,000 for one of the 135 fitted with the 426 Street Hemi.  Despite the Superbirds having been produced in some four times the quantity of Daytonas, as collectables, they're treated as interchangeable with the determinates of price (all else being equal) being (1) engine specification (the Hemi-powered models the most desirable followed by the 6-BBL Plymouths (there were no Six-Pack Daytonas built) and then the 4 barrel 440s), (2) transmission (those with a manual gearbox attracting a premium) and (3) the usual combination of mileage, condition and originality.  Mapped on to that equation is the variable of who happens to be at an auction on any given day, something unpredictable.  That was demonstrated in August 2024 when a highly optioned Daytona in the most desirable configuration achieved US$3.36 million at Mecum’s auction in Monterey, California.

1969 Plymouth Road Runner advertisement.

The US$3.36 million achieved generated headlines on sites where such things are discussed, but what attracted the interest of amateur sociologists was the same Daytona had in May 2022 sold for US$1.3 million when offered by Mecum in an auction at the Indiana State Fairgrounds.  The US$1.3 million was at the time the highest price then paid for a Hemi Daytona (of the 503 built, only 70 were fitted with the Hemi and of those, only 22 had the four-speed manual) and the increase in value by some 250% was obviously the result of something other than the inflation rate.  The consensus was that although the internet had made just about all markets inherently global, local factors can still influence both the buyer profile and their behaviour, especially in the hothouse environment of a live auction.  Those who frequent California’s central coast between Los Angeles and San Francisco include a demographic not typically found in the mid-west and among other distinguishing characteristics there are more rich folk, able to spend US$3.36 million on a half-century old car they’ll probably never drive between purchase and a return to the auction circuit.  That’s how the collector market works, the cars now essentially the same sort of commodity as certain paintings; it's not that cars are art (although New York's MoMA (Museum of Modern Art) has a few on permanent exhibit including an early Jaguar E-Type (XKE, 1961-1974)) but the market structures and dynamics are more similar than they are different.

1970 Plymouth Hemi Superbird in TorRed over Black vinyl.  Between 2022-2025, its realized value fell by some US$1.2 million.

Still, it's a volatile market and some who “overpaid” by buying in a “peak market” have booked considerable losses when compelled to sell at a time when demand proved less buoyant.  Although the aero-cars are among the more collectable Mopars, they remain a traded commodity and about such things, all that can be guaranteed about their value is: “it will fluctuate”.  In 2025, a Hemi Superbird sold at auction for US$418,000 which, given its condition and specification, was at the lower end of expectations but in 2022, the same machine had gone over the block for US$1.65 million.  The loss booked was thus US$1.2 million-odd or around 75%, neither of those numbers encouraging for collectors and immediately, the conspiracy theorists began offering explanations involving the interplay of tax deductions, charitable donations and such.  There are of course cases where losses even greater in magnitude can be imagined; the early 1 Gb USB sticks sold for US$199.00 and were an immaculate, unused example still in its original blister pack to be offered for sale in 2026, the nominal loss would be greater than 75%.  Still, “vintage” USB sticks are not (yet) a collectable and most who buy Superbirds don’t expect to suffer depreciation.

The Buick Skylark Grand Sport which in 1965 didn't become a Superbird.

Plymouth paid Warner Brothers US$50,000 to licence the trademarked image of the bird but “Superbird” was free to use which must have been pleasing, the avian reference an allusion to the big wing at the rear.  Curiously, had Buick a half-decade earlier decided to pursue what seems in retrospect a “sales department thought bubble”, Plymouth would have had to come up with something else because in 1965 Buick did run a one-off advertisement for their new Skylark GS (Grand Sport, the marque’s well-manicured toe in the muscle car water) with the copy headed “Superbird”.  It may seem strange Buick had been tempted by the muscle car business because, by the time the rungs of Alfred P Sloan’s (1875–1966; president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and Chairman of the Board 1937-1946) "Sloan ladder" were in the 1940 finalized, Buick was second only to Cadillac in the five-step GM (General Motors) corporate hierarchy with Chevrolet at the bottom, followed by Pontiac and Oldsmobile.  However, the unexpected success the year earlier of Pontiac’s GTO had proved an irresistible temptation: there were profits to be made.  As it was, Cadillac was the only GM division in the era not to sell a muscle car.

1936 Buick Century.

Debatably, the Buick Century was the "first muscle car" and although in the mid 1930s some fanciful names appeared, it's unlikely anyone within GM would have thought of "Road Runner" or "Superbird", "Century" (denoting the 100 mph (160 km/h) speed all were able to achieve) thought both distinctive and informative.  The definition of “muscle car” is by some contested with the only consensus seemingly that none accept it can encompass FWD (front-wheel-drive), despite Cadillac in 1970 rating the Eldorado's 500 cubic inch (8.2 litre) V8 at at stellar 400 HP which was 25 more than Ford claimed for the Boss 429 Mustang which used a slightly detuned racing engine.  Ford of course had reasons to under-rate the stated output of the Boss 429 but it remains an amusing comparison.  The definition most prefer is: “a big engine from a big, heavy car installed in a smaller, lighter car” and although in 1936 the improvement in the economy remained patchy (and would soon falter), Buick rang in the changes, re-naming its entire line.  The new Century was a revised revised version of the model 60, created by replacing the 233 cubic inch (3.8 litre) straight eight with the 320 cubic inch (5.2 litre) unit from the longer, heavier Roadmaster.  Putting big engines into small cars was nothing new and during the interwar years some had taken the idea to extremes, using huge aero-engines, but those tended to be one-offs for racing or LSR (land speed record) attempts.  In Europe, (slightly) larger engines were sometimes substituted and British manufacturers often put six cylinder power-plants where once there had been a four but their quest was usually for smoothness and refinement rather than outright speed and the Century was really the first time a major manufacturer had used the concept in series production.  Many now acknowledge the Century as the LCA (last common ancestor) of the muscle cars which in the 1960s came to define the genre.

1970 Buick GSX 455 Stage 1.  It was available only in two colors and of the 678 built, 491 were Saturn Yellow and 197 Apollo White, the names topical because the Apollo moon missions of the era missions were launched using Saturn V rockets.

The model which in 1965 Buick seemingly flirted with promoting as the “Superbird” was the Skylark Grand Sport, built on the corporate intermediate A-Body shared with Chevrolet, Pontiac & Oldsmobile.  In its first season the Grand Sport was an option rather than a model and it used the 401 cubic inch (6.6 litre) Buick “Nailhead” V8 which technically violated GM’s corporate edict placing a 400 cubic inch displacement limit on engines in intermediates but this was “worked around” by “rounding down” to 400 for purposes of documentation and for that there was a (sort of) precedent; earlier Pontiac’s 336 cubic inch (5.5 litre) V8 contravened another GM rule and PMD (Pontiac Motor Division) solved that problem by claiming the capacity was really 326 (5.3) with the GM board again turning a blind eye for as long as it took for the foundry to organize the downsizing.  The Grand Sport option proved a success and for 1967 the package was elevated to a model as the GS 400, Buick’s new big-block engine a genuine 400 cid (there were also small-block Skylark GSs appropriately labelled GS 340 and later GS 350) and on the sales charts it continued to perform well, but, being a Buick, its appearance was more restrained than the muscle cars from the competition (including those from other GM divisions) so it tended to be overshadowed.  In 1968, that began to changed when the “Stage 1” option was introduced as a dealer-installed option.  What this did was increase power and torque, optimizing the delivery of both for quarter-mile (402 m) sprints down drag strips and as a proof-of-concept exercise (in terms of market demand), it worked and in 1969 the Stage 1 package appeared on the factory’s official option list.  When tested, it performed (on the drag strip) so well it was obvious the official output numbers were under-stated but things really clicked the next year when Buick enlarged the V8 to 455 cubic inches (7.5 litre), delivering 510 lb⋅ft (691 Nm) of torque, the highest rating in the industry.  It's often claimed Detroit wouldn't top this until the second generation Dodge Viper (ZB I, 2003-2006) debuted with its V10 enlarged to 506 cubic inches (8.3 litres) but the early 472 (1968) & 500 (1970) cubic inch (7.7 & 8.2 litre) Cadillac V8s were rated respectively at 525 lb⋅ft (712 Nm) & 550 lb⋅ft (746 Nm).

1970 Buick GSX brochure.

Buick in 1970 made available the GSX “Performance and Handling Package” which added a hefty US$1,100 to the GS 455’s base price US$3,098, a factor in it attracting only 678 buyers, 400 of whom ordered the “Stage 1” option.  In this context, use of the word “stage” was unusual but, like the color choices, that too was an allusion to the space program, the big Saturn V rockets divided into “stages”.  Although Buick buyers had for years overwhelmingly purchased cars with automatic transmission, the GSX was a Buick of a different flavor and this was reflected 199 of them being sold with the optional four-manual; clearly the GSX was attracting the much sought “conquest buyers” (ie those who usually purchased another brand).  Presumably, whether or not “conquests” most buyers presumably were content because the straight-line performance was impressive; while the GSX didn't possess the ability of genuine race-bred engines like the Chrysler Street Hemi, Ford Boss 429 or the most lusty of the big-block Chevrolets effortlessly to top 140 mph (225 km/h), on the drag strip, the combination of the prodigious low-speed torque and relatively light weight meant it could be a match for just about anything.  The use of “Stage 1” of course implied there would be at least a “Stage 2” (a la Pontiac’s Ram Air II, III etc) but the world was changing and only a handful of "Stage 2" components were assembled and shipped to dealers.  While both the GSX and Stage 1 would live until 1972, 1970 would be peak Buick muscle.

1967 Dodge Coronet R/T advertisement.

Another footnote to the tale is that in 1967, months before Plymouth released the Road Runner, Dodge (Plymouth’s corporate stable-mate) published an advertisement for the Coronet R/T (Road/Track) which must have been ticked off by the legal department because cleverly it included the words “road” and “runner” arranged in such as way a viewer would read them as “Road Runner” without them appearing in a form which might have attracted a C&D (cease & desist letter) from Warner Brothers.  Obviously, the tie-in with Road/Track was the idea of a machine suited both to street and competition use and the agency must have congratulated themselves but the satisfaction would have been brief because within hours of the advertisement appearing in magazines on newsstands, Chrysler’s corporate marketing division instructed Dodge to “pull the campaign”.  By then, Plymouth’s plans for the surprise release in a few months of the appropriately licensed “Road Runner” were well advanced and they didn’t want any thunder stolen.  The Dodge advertisement remained a one-off but the division must have wished they’d thought of using “Road Runner” themselves because the Super Bee (their later take on the Road Runner's "stripped down, low cost" concept) only ever sold a quarter of the volume of Plymouth’s original; it pays to be first but a flaky name like “Super Bee” can’t have helped.  Subsequently, the names Road Runner & Roadrunner (the latter which, without the initial capital, is the taxonomic term for the bird (genus Geococcyx and known also as chaparral birds or chaparral cocks) Warner Brothers' Wile E. Coyote could never quite catch) have been used for products as varied as a Leyland truck, sports teams, computer hardware & software and a number of publications.

Don't mess with popular and respected birds.

However, just because Chrysler’s lawyers dotted the i's and crossed the t's with Warner Brothers didn’t mean their involvement with the Plymouth Road Runner was done.  Shortly after the Road Runner was released late in 1967, the corporate office became aware “...certain Chrysler-Plymouth Division dealers in the Southwest [were] using live Roadrunner birds in local sales promotions and offering cash rewards for the capture of live specimens.”  That would at the time have seemed to dealers just a clever marketing gimmick but consulted, the legal department determined it was “...against Federal Law to hunt, capture kill, sell or offer to purchase a nonautomotive Roadrunner.”  Further to clarify, it was added Roadrunners were “…none-game birds classified as national resources and protected by Federal and International law.”  Who knew?  In the C&D letter Chrysler-Plymouth's public relations manager circulated to all dealers, the cultural significance was also mentioned, the Roadrunner described as a “...popular and respected bird... particularly in New Mexico where it is honored as the state's official bird.”  Accordingly, the corporate directive banned “...any future use of live Roadrunners in promotional activities.”

1970 Plymouth Road Runner with a Warner Brothers' interpretation of the genus Geococcyx in fibreglass.

So using live examples of the “popular and respected bird” was out but the marketing department wasn’t deterred and for promotional purposes later arranged production in fibreglass of large representations of the cartoon bird, designed to emerge, grinning and wide-eyed through the hood (bonnet) scoop which Chrysler called the “air-grabber” because it did what it said on the tin: funnelled desirable cold air straight to the induction system.  While "air grabber" might seem a bit brutish, it was that sort of car and in 1970 Plymouth briefly had called a variant of the idea the "Incredible Quivering Exposed Cold Air Grabber" but that improbable moniker didn't last much beyond an appearance in an early brochure (I.Q.E.C.A.G. one of history's less mnemonic initializms) and the hardware has only ever been known as the "shaker".  Being advertising, the large fibreglass birds owed much to the Warner Brothers depiction of the creature and little to how evolution had produced genus Geococcyx.  Some of the fibreglass promotional props survived to be exhibited protruding through a Road Runners air-grabber and die-cast models of the ensemble (car plus “popular and respected bird”) sometimes are available.

Australia's Ford Falcon Superbirds

1973 Ford XA Falcon GT Superbird, built for the show circuit and first shown at the Melbourne Motor Show in March 1973. 

Based on the then-current XA Falcon GT Hardtop, Ford Australia’s original Superbird was a one-off created for display at the 1973 Sydney and Melbourne Motor Shows, the purpose of the thing to distract attention from Holden’s new, four-door HQ Monaro model, a range added after the previous year’s limited production SS had generated sufficient sales for the “proof-of-concept” to be judged a success.  Such tactics are not unusual in commerce and Ford was responding to the Holden’s earlier release of the SS being timed deliberately to steal the thunder expected to be generated by the debut of the Falcon Hardtop.  Despite the SS in 1972 being so successful a second batch was needed to meet demand, for some reason GMH (General Motors Holden's) decided that when added as a regular-production model, it would use the "Monaro GTS" name which, since 1968, had been used exclusively of two-door hardtop coupés.  So, despite Chevrolet in the US having for a decade built an enviable "brand recognition" for the SS badge and the success of its own SS in 1972, Holden opted not to take advantage of the new model inheriting the aura and instead diluted the value of the Monaro brand.  Even at the time it seemed a strange choice and tellingly, within a few years, after production of the Monaro coupés ended, the four door models were renamed simply "GTS".       

1973 Ford XA Falcon GT Superbird with model in ankle-length, sleeveless floral sheath maxi dress.  The model was Jill Goodall (b 1952) who in the 1970s appeared on the covers of Australian fashion magazines and in television & print advertising.  She worked also as an actor, including a role as a “harem girl” in the James Bond film The Spy Who Loved Me (1977).

Although it featured a new wool fabric (described in the press-kit as a "rough-blend") for the upholstery and a power-steering system with the rim-effort increased from 4 to 8 lbs (1.8 to 3.6 kg), mechanically, the Superbird show car was something of a “parts-bin special” in that it differed from a standard GT Hardtop mostly in the use of some of the components orphaned when the run of 250-odd (Phase 4) Falcon GTHOs in 1972 was cancelled after a Sydney tabloid newspaper had stirred a moral panic with one of their typically squalid and untruthful stories about the “160 mph [258 km/h] supercars” which soon would be sold to males aged 17-25 (always a suspect demographic in the eyes of a tabloid editor).  Apparently, it was a “slow news day” so the story got moved from the sports section at the back to the front page where the headline spooked the politicians who demanded manufacturers not proceed with the limited-production specials which existed only to satisfy the homologation rules for competition.  Resisting for only a few days, the manufacturers complied and within a week the nation’s regulatory body for motor sport announced the end of “series-production” racing; subsequently, the "production" cars used on the track would no longer need to be so closely related to those available in showrooms.

Ms Goodall with 1973 Ford XA Falcon GT Superbird.  The XA Hardtop's styling motifs were borrowed from the second generation Ford (US) Torino (1970-1971), a machine which, like the 1968 Dodge Charger, looked slippery but, when used at speed on the ovals, was found to induce rather more drag than had been hoped.  Although one German race-driver noted some "chassis flex" in the pillarless coupé, the Australian car's aerodynamics proved sound and the cars were stable on the circuits.  Contemporary tests of the road cars noted the XA GT Hardtop's top speed being some 8 mph (13 km/h) higher than an identically configured sedan, the gain attributed to (1) the reduced frontal area (the hardtop's roofline 2 inches (50 mm) than the sedan) and (2) the efficiency of the air flow over and around the rear section.  

The Falcon GT Superbird displayed at the motor shows in 1973 was a harbinger in that it proved something a “trial run” for future ventures in which parts intended solely for racing would be added to a sufficient number of vehicles sold (almost surreptitiously) to the public to homologate them for use on the circuits.  In that sense, the mechanical specification of the Superbird previewed some of what would later in the year be supplied (with a surprising amount of car-to-car variability) in RPO83 (regular production option 83) including many of the settings and parts intended for the 1972 GTHO (the genuine homologation model which would have been produced in a batch of 300-odd) such the suspension rates, a 780 cfm (cubic feet per minute) carburetor, the 15” x 7” aluminium wheels, a 36 (imperial) gallon (164 litre) fuel tank and various bits and pieces designed for greater durability under extreme (ie race track) conditions.  Cognizant of the effect the tabloid press has on politicians, none of the special runs in the immediate aftermath of the 1972 moral panic included anything which much increased performance.  However, while the details of the mechanical specification delighted the nerds, it was the large orange Superbird logo on the flanks which attracted most comment, the press-kit handed to journalists mentioning the "unique black shadows" which "highlighted its appearance".  However, although nicely done, the black shadows professionally were hand-painted and not included in the full-sized decal which became available from Ford dealers in white (part-number XA-19C 600), black (XA-19C 600 B) & orange (XA-19C 600 C) at Aus$59 which may sound reasonable but the ABS (Australian Bureau of Statistics) reports that in the March quarter, 1973, average MFTWE (male full-time weekly earnings) were Aus$102.50.  Demand for the decal in any color was subdued and it was not long available.

Toned down: 1973 Ford Falcon 500 Hardtop with RPO77 (Superbird option pack) in Polar White with Cosmic Blue accents over white vinyl.

Most who saw the Superbird probably didn’t much dwell on the mechanical intricacies, taken more by the stylized falcon which extended three-quarters the length of the car.  It was the graphic which no doubt generated publicity in a way the specification sheet never could and as an "adhesive transparancy" it could be ordered from Ford dealers but so low was the take-up rate it was decided instead to capitalize on the success of the show car by releasing a production Superbird (RPO77) with the graphic's length scaled down to a mere 18 inches (450 mm), applied to the rear quarters with an even smaller version on the glovebox lid.  In keeping with that restraint, RPO77 included only “dress-up” items and a 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) V8 in the same mild-mannered state of tune as the versions sold to bank managers and such.  It was a much more modest machine than the Melbourne Motor Show car with its high-compression 351 (5.8) V8 so although not quite a "budgerigar in a birdcage next to a hunting falcon", the messages conveyed by the respective avian graphics were in accord with the hardware.

1973 Ford XA Falcon Superbird in the Lime Glaze & Jewell Green combo over black vinyl.  The other available color combinations were Polar white / Cosmic Blue and Yellow Fire / Walnut Glow.

Still, as a package which offered a bundle of options at an substantial discount (nominally about 11%), RPO77's cost breakdown attracted buyers and did succeed in stimulating interest in the two-door Hardtop, sales of which had proved sluggish after the initial spike in 1972.  It seems of the 750 planned, some 700 were built and that all but 200 were fitted with an automatic transmission was an indication of the target market.  In Australia, the surviving Superbirds are now advertised for six figure (Aus$) sums while the surviving three Phase 4 GTHOs (the fourth was destroyed in a rally which sounds and improbable but it was said to have been competitive, only the sheer weight of the thing meaning the tyre's sidewalls were subject to frequent failure) command over a million.

A (sort of) Superbird at speed.

Murray Carter (b 1931), Falcon RPO83 XA GT Hardtop (modified to resemble the then current XB GT, a common practice in the era), Oran Park round of the 1975 ATCC (Australian Touring Car Championship) 27 April, 1975.  The “Superbird” finished third in the race and second in the 1975 championship.  There was much production-line standardization between the XA-XB-XC Hardtops (more so than the sedans and station wagons which used different rear doors) so the visual updating wasn't difficult and the car would later receive XC panels before being stripped of anything useful and scrapped, race teams then an unsentimental crew.

Although RPO77 was purely an “appearance package”, the Superbird was a footnote in the homologation of the hardtop body for racing, Ford using the specification sheet provided to state motor vehicle registration authorities in their submission to CAMS (Confederation of Australian Motorsport, then the national regulatory body for the sport).  The advantages in citing the Superbird as a base were (1) being built between March-May, 1973 the structure benefited from the changes to the rails and braces which didn’t appear on the earlier cars and (2) at 2910 lb (1320 KG), it was up to 210 lb (95 KG) lighter (depending on configuration) than the Falcon GT Hardtops which were basis of the vehicles actually used in racing.  Whether CAMS was deceived or was just anxious to accommodate isn’t clear but the certification was granted with the designation “Superbird” appearing in their published documentation.  That’s why it was common in press reports at the time for the racing RPO83 XA Hardtops to be referred to as “Superbirds” even though not one was based on a RPO77 Falcon.  Despite all that, the race cars were on occasions seen with “Superbird” emblazoned in bold type.  

The motor show Superbird (unused image from a publicity photo session, Melbourne, 1973).  Built in August 1972, the Superbird was re-painted in "Pearl Silver" and road-registered (LHA 614) in Victoria.  It was restored to its original "Wild Violet" before being sold (without the graphic).

As a nerdy footnote, the 302 V8 used in the RPO77 Superbirds was exclusive to Australia in being based on the Cleveland (335) engine which in the US was the basis only for 351 and 400 (6.6) versions.  The rationale for the Australians developing their unique "302 Cleveland" was one of production-line standardization, the local operation having never produced the Windsor line of V8s which by 1969 provided the US market with both 302 & 351 versions.  According to the convention in use at the time, the Australian engines could have been dubbed "302 Geelong" & "351 Geelong" (Geelong the city where the Ford foundry was located) but that was never adopted and both tend to be called "Australian Clevelands".  Creating the 302 Cleveland wasn't challenging or expensive and both the Australian engines were (with detail differences between them) a single-configuration compromise optimized for use on the street, eschewing use of the components which delivered improved top-end power (as fitted to some of the US engines) which worked well at high speed but was not ideal for street use where a progressive curve of low and mid-range torque is the most desired characteristic.

For the Superbird photo-shoot, as well as the floral maxi, Ms Goodall also donned some dresses with a shorter cut.  She had studied graphic design in Melbourne and after retiring from modelling, worked as a studio manager and photographer.  Now based in Germany and known professionally as Jill Seer, she has exhibited her work in European galleries.

What the Australian engineers did for their 351 was was combine the large (61-64 cm³) combustion chambers from the US "4V" heads (ie "4 venturi" indicating their use with a four barrel carburetor) with the smaller "2V" intake ports, the arrangement producing a good quench and air/fuel swirl through the ports, enhancing the low-to-mid range torque output.  The short-stroke Australian 302 was different in that it used a 56.4–59.4 cm³ combustion chamber in conjunction with the high-swirl, small ports.  That combination ("closed" combustion chamber & small ports) turned out to be a "sweet-spot" for street use which has made the Australian 302 heads a popular item for those in the US modifying 351s, the swap made possible by the shared bore and bolt pattern.  While in "heavy duty" use the Cleveland (335) suffered from fundamental flaws (excessive weight and limited lubrication channels), the canted-valve heads were right from day one, the reason why the 1969 Boss 302 (which put efficient Cleveland heads on the lighter, well-oiled Windsor block) was so highly regarded.  Although its sounds oxymoronic, Ford Australia really did market its 302 as "an economy V8" but that phrase needs to be read as something comparative rather than absolute, both the 302 & 351 even then regarded as "thirsty".