Defiant

Defiant (pronounced dih-fahy-uhnt)

Characterized by defiance or a willingness to defy; boldly resistant or challenging.

1830s: From the French défiant, from the Old French, present participle of the verb défier (to challenge, defy, provoke), the construct thus def(y) + “i” + -ant.  Defy dates from the mid thirteenth century and was from the Middle English defien, from the Old French desfier, from the Vulgar Latin disfidare (renounce one's faith), the construct being dis- (away) + fidus (faithful).  The construct in French was thus des- (in the sense of negation) + fier (to trust), (from the Vulgar Latin fīdāre, from the Classical Latin fīdere (fidelity),  In the fourteenth century, the meaning shifted from “be disloyal” to “challenge”.  The suffix –ant was from the Middle English –ant & -aunt, partly from the Old French -ant, from Latin -āns; and partly (in adjectival derivations) a continuation of the use of the Middle English -ant, a variant of -and, -end, from the Old English -ende ( the present participle ending).  Extensively used in the sciences (especially medicine and pathology), the agent noun was derived from verb.  It was used to create adjectives (1) corresponding to a noun in -ance, having the sense of "exhibiting (the condition or process described by the noun)" and (2) derived from a verb, having the senses of: (2a) "doing (the verbal action)", and/or (2b) "prone/tending to do (the verbal action)".  In English, many of the words to which –ant was appended were not coined in English but borrowed from the Old French, Middle French or Modern French.  The negative adjectival forms are non-defiant & undefiant although there is a kind of middle ground described by quasi-defiant, semi-defiant & half-defiant, the latter three sometimes used in military conflicts where, for whatever reason, it’s been necessary (or at least desirable) for a force to offer a “token resistance” prior to an inevitable defeat.  The adjective over-defiant refers to a resistance or recalcitrance, the extent or duration of which is not justified by the circumstances; in such cases the comparative is “more defiant” and the superlative “most defiant”.  Defiant is a noun & adjective, defiantness is a noun and defiantly is an adverb; the noun plural is defiants.

Defiance in politics: use with caution

The commonly used synonyms include rebellious, direful, truculent, insolent, rebellious, recalcitrant, refractory, contumacious & insubordinate but in diplomacy, such words must be chosen with care because what is one context may be a compliment, in another it may be a slight.  This was in 1993 discovered by Paul Keating (b 1944; Prime Minister of Australia 1991-1996) who labelled Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad (b 1925; prime minister of Malaysia 1981-2003 & 2018-2020) one of the “recalcitrant” when the latter declined to attend a summit meeting of the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC).  For historic reasons, Dr Mahathir was sensitive to the memories of the imperialist oppressors telling colonized people what to do and interpreted Mr Keating’s phrase as a suggestion he should be more obedient (the most commonly used antonym of defiant, the others including obedient & submissive).  Things could quickly have been resolved (Dr Mahathir of the “forgive but not forget” school of IR (international relations)) but, unfortunately, Mr Keating was brought up in the gut-wrenching “never apologize” tradition of the right-wing of the New South Wales (NSW) Labor Party so what could have been handled as a clumsy linguistic gaffe was allowed to drag on.

Circa 1933 Chinese propaganda poster featuring a portrait of Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek (Chiang Chung-cheng).  Set in an oval frame below flags alongside stylized Chinese lettering, the generalissimo is depicted wearing his ceremonial full-dress uniform with decorations.

The admission an opponent is being “defiant” must also sometimes be left unsaid.  Ever since Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek (1887-1975; leader of the Republic of China (mainland) 1928-1949 & the renegade province of Taiwan 1949-1975) in 1949 fled mainland China, settling on and assuming control of the island of Taiwan, the status of the place has been contested, most dramatically in the incidents which flare up occasionally in the in the straits between the island and the mainland, remembered as the First (1954–1955), Second (1958) and Third (1995-1996) Taiwan Strait Crises which, although sometimes in retrospect treated as sabre rattling or what Hun Sen (b 1952; prime minister (in one form or another) 1985-2023) might have called “the boys letting off steam”, were at the time serious incidents, each with the potential to escalate into something worse.  Strategically, the first two crises were interesting studies in Cold War politics, the two sides at one stage exchanging information about when and where their shelling would be aimed, permitting troops to be withdrawn from the relevant areas on the day.  Better to facilitate administrative arrangements, each side’s shelling took place on alternate days, satisfying honor on both sides.  The other landmark incident was China’s seat at the United Nations (UN), held by the Republic of China (ROC) (Taiwan) between 1945-1971 and the People’s Republic of China (PRC) (the mainland) since.

Jiefang Taiwan, xiaomie Jiangzei canyu (Liberate Taiwan, and wipe out the remnants of the bandit Chiang) by Yang Keyang (楊可楊) and Zhao Yannian (趙延年). 

A 1954 PRC propaganda poster printed as part of anti-Taiwan campaign during first Taiwan Strait Crisis (1954-1955), Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek depicted as a scarecrow erected on Taiwan by the US government and military. Note the color of the generalissimo’s cracked and disfigured head (tied to a pole) and the similarity to the color of the American also shown.  The artists have included some of the accoutrements often associated with Chiang’s uniforms: white gloves, boots and a ceremonial sword.  The relationship between Chiang and the leaders of PRC who defeated his army, Chairman Mao (Mao Zedong. 1893–1976; paramount leader of PRC 1949-1976) and Zhou Enlai (1898–1976; PRC premier 1949-1976) was interesting.  Even after decades of defiance in his renegade province, Mao and Zhou still referred to him, apparently genuinely, as “our friend”, an expression which surprised both Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) and Henry Kissinger (b 1923; US national security advisor 1969-1973 & secretary of state 1973-1977) who met the chairman and premier during their historic mission to Peking in 1972.

A toast: Comrade Chairman Mao Zedong (left) and  Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek (right), celebrating the Japanese surrender, Chongqing, China, September 1945.  After this visit, they would never meet again.

Most people, apparently even within the PRC, casually refer to the place as “Taiwan” but state and non-governmental entities, anxious not to upset Beijing, use a variety of terms including “Chinese Taipei” (the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and the Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA, the International Federation of Association Football) & its continental confederations (AFC, CAF, CONCACAF, CONMEBOL, OFC and UEFA)), “Taiwan District” (the World Bank) and “Taiwan Province of China” (the International Monetary Fund (IMF)).  Taiwan’s government uses an almost declarative “Republic of China” which is the name adopted for China after the fall of the Qing dynasty and used between 1912-1949 and even “Chinese Taipai” isn’t without controversy, “Taipei” being the Taiwanese spelling whereas Beijing prefers “Taibei,” the spelling used in the mainland’s Pinyin system.  There have been variations on those themes and there’s also the mysterious “Formosa”, use of which persisted in the English-speaking world well into the twentieth century, despite the Republic of Formosa existing on the island of Taiwan for only a few months in 1895.  The origin of the name Formosa lies in the island in 1542 being named Ilha Formosa (beautiful island) by Portuguese sailors who had noticed it didn’t appear on their charts.  From there, most admiralties in Europe and the English-speaking world updated their charts, use of Formosa not fading until the 1970s.

All that history is well-known, if sometimes subject to differing interpretations but some mystery surrounds the term “renegade province”, used in recent years with such frequency that a general perception seems to have formed that it’s Beijing’s official (or at least preferred) description of the recalcitrant island.  That it’s certainly not but in both the popular-press and specialist journals, the phrase “renegade province” is habitually used to describe Beijing’s views of Taiwan.  Given that Beijing actually calls Taiwan the “Taiwan Province” (sometimes styled as “Taiwan District” but there seems no substantive difference in meaning) and has explicitly maintained it reserves the right to reclaim the territory (by use of military invasion if need be), it’s certainly not unreasonable to assume that does reflect the politburo's view but within the PRC, “renegade province” is so rare (in Chinese or English) as to be effectively non-existent, the reason said to be that rather than a renegade, the island is thought of as a province pretending to be independent; delusional rather than defiant.  Researchers have looked into the matter when the phrase “renegade province” was first used in English when describing Taiwan.  There may be older or more obscure material which isn’t indexed or hasn’t been digitized but of that which can be searched, the first reference appears to be in a US literary journal from 1973 (which, it later transpired, received secret funding from the US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA)).  It took a while to catch on but, appearing first in the New York Times in 1982, became a favorite during the administration of Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989) and has been part of the standard language of commentary since.  Diplomats, aware of Beijing's views on the matter, tend to avoid the phrase, maintaining the “delusional rather than defiant” line.

Picture of defiance: Official State Portrait of Vladimir Putin (2002), oil on canvas by Igor Babailov (b 1965).

The idea of a territory being a “renegade province” can be of great political, psychological (and ultimately military) significance.  The core justification used by Mr Putin (Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999) when explaining why his “special military operation” against Ukraine in 2022 was not an “invasion” or “war of aggression” (he probably concedes it may be a “state of armed conflict”) was that he denied Ukraine was a sovereign, independent state and that Volodymyr Zelenskyy (b 1978, president of Ukraine since 2019) was not a legitimate president.  In other words, Ukraine is merely a region of the modern Russia in something of the way it was once one of the 15 constituent SSRs (Soviet Socialist Republic) of the Soviet Union.  Although the Kremlin doesn’t use the phrase, in Mr Putin’s world view, Ukraine is a renegade province and he likely believes that applies also to the Baltic States (Latvia, Lithuania & Estonia) and possibly other former SSRs.  Lake many, the CCP is watching events in Ukraine with great interest and, as recent “exercises” seem to suggest the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) have sufficiently honed their techniques to execute either a blockade (which would be an “act of war”) or a “quarantine” (which would not), the attention of Western analysts is now focused on the hardly secret training being undertaken to perfect what’s needed for the triphibious operations demanded by a full-scale invasion.  The US think-tanks which think much about this possibility have suggested “some time” in 2027 as the likely point at which the military high command would assure the CCP’s central committee such a thing is possible.  What will happen will then depend upon (1) the state of things in the PRC and (2) the CCP’s assessment of how the long-term “strategic ambiguity” of Washington would manifest were an attempt made to finish the “unfinished business” of 1949.

Lindsay Lohan, who has lived a life of defiance.

The objectification of women’s body parts has of course been a theme in Western culture since at least Antiquity but rarely can as much attention been devoted to a single fingernail as the one photographed on Lindsay Lohan’s hand in July 2010 (during her “troubled starlet” phase).  The text printed on the fingernail was sufficiently explicit not to need a academic deconstruction of its alleged meaning, given image was taken when she sitting in court listening to a judge sentence her for one of her many transgressions; the consensus was the text was there to send a “defiant message” the internet’s collective conclusion (which wasn’t restricted to entertainment and celebrity sites) presumably reinforced by the nail being on the middle finger.  Ms Lohan admitted to fining this perplexing, tweeting on X (then known as Twitter) it was merely a manicure and had “…nothing to do w/court, it's an airbrush design from a stencil.”  So, rather than digital defiance, it was fashion.  Attributing a motif of defiance to Ms Lohan wasn’t unusual during “troubled starlet” phase, one site assessing a chronological montage of her famous mug shots before concluding with each successive shot, “Lindsay's face becomes more defiant — a young woman hardening herself against a world that had turned her into a punch-line”.

The Bolton-Paul Defiant (1939-1943)

The Parthian shot was a military tactic, used by mounted cavalry and made famous by the Parthians, an ancient people of the Persian lands (the modern-day Islamic Republic of Iran since 1979).  While in real or feigned retreat on horseback, the Parthian archers would, in full gallop, turn their bodies backward to shoot at the pursuing enemy.  This demanded both fine equestrian skills (a soldier’ hands occupied by his bows & arrows) and great confidence in one's mount, something gained only by time spent between man & beast.  To make the achievement more admirable still, the Parthians used neither stirrups nor spurs, relying solely on pressure from their legs to guide and control their galloping mounts and, with varying degrees of success, the tactic was adopted by many mounted military formations of the era including the Scythians, Huns, Turks, Magyars, and Mongols.  The Parthian Empire existed between 247 BC–224 AD.  The Royal Air Force (RAF) tried a variation of the Parthian shot with Bolton-Paul Defiant, a single-engined fighter and Battle of Britain contemporary of the better remembered Spitfire and Hurricane.  Uniquely, the Defiant had no forward-firing armaments, all its firepower being concentrated in four .303 machine guns in a turret behind the pilot.  The theory behind the design dates from the 1930s when the latest multi-engined monoplane bombers were much faster than contemporary single-engined biplane fighters then in service. The RAF considered its new generation of heavily-armed bombers would be able to penetrate enemy airspace and defend themselves without a fighter escort and this of course implied enemy bombers would similarly be able to penetrate British airspace with some degree of impunity.

Bolton-Paul Defiant.

By 1935, the concept of a turret-armed fighter emerged.  The RAF anticipated having to defend the British Isles against massed formations of unescorted enemy bombers and, in theory, turret-armed fighters would be able approach formations from below or from the side and coordinate their fire.  In design terms, it was a return to what often was done early in the World War I, though that had been technologically deterministic, it being then quite an engineering challenge to produce reliable and safe (in the sense of not damaging the craft's own propeller) forward-firing guns.  Deployed not as intended, but as a fighter used against escorted bombers, the Defiant enjoyed considerable early success, essentially because at attack-range, it appeared to be a Hurricane and the German fighter pilots were of course tempted attack from above and behind, the classic hunter's tactic.  They were course met by the the Defiant's formidable battery.  However, the Luftwaffe learned quickly, unlike the RAF which for too long persisted with their pre-war formations which were neat and precise but also excellent targets.  Soon the vulnerability of the Defiant resulted in losses so heavy its deployment was unsustainable and it was withdrawn from front-line combat.  It did though subsequently proved a useful stop-gap as a night-fighter and provided the RAF with an effective means of combating night bombing until aircraft designed for the purpose entered service.

The Trump class "battleships"

In a surprise announcement, the Pentagon announced the impending construction of a “new battleship class” the first of the line (USS Defiant) to be the US Navy’s “largest surface combatant built since World War II [1939-1945]”.  The initial plans call for a pair to be launched with a long-term goal of as many as two dozen with construction to begin in 2030.  Intriguingly, Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) revealed that while the Department of Defense’s (it’s also now the Department of War) naval architects would “lead the design”, he personally would be involved “…because I’m a very aesthetic person.”  That may sound a strange imperative when designing something as starkly functional as a warship but in navies everywhere there’s a long tradition of “the beautiful ship” and the design language still in use, although much modified, is recognizably what it was more than a century earlier.  The Secretary of the Navy certainly stayed on-message, announcing the USS Defiant would be “…the largest, deadliest and most versatile and best-looking warship anywhere on the world’s oceans”, adding that components for the project would “be made in every state.”  It won't however be the widest because quirk of ship design in the US Navy is that warships tend to be limited to a beam (width) of around 33 metres (108 feet) because that’s the limit for vessels able to pass through the Panama Canal.

Depiction of Trump class USS Defiant issued by the US Navy, December, 2025.

By comparison with the existing surface fleet the 35,000 ton Defiant will be impressively large although, by historic standards, the largest (non-carrier) surface combatants now in service are of modest dimensions and displacement.  The largest now afloat are the 15,000-ton Zumwalt class destroyers (which really seem to be cruisers) while the 10,000 ton Ticonderoga class cruisers (which really are destroyers) are more numerous.  So, even the Defiant will seem small compared with the twentieth century Dreadnoughts (which became a generic term for “biggest battleship”), the US Iowa class displacing 60,000 ton at their heaviest while the Japanese Yamato-class weighted-in at 72,000.  Even those behemoths would have been dwarfed by the most ambitious of the H-Class ships in Plan-Z which were on German drawing boards early in World War II.  Before reality bit hard, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) left physics to the engineers and wasn't too bothered by economics.  After being disappointed the proposals the successors to the Bismarck-class ships would have their main armament increased only from eight 15-inch (380 mm) to eight 16 inch cannons, he ordered OKM (Oberkommando der Marine; the Naval High Command) to design bigger ships.  That directive emerged as the ambitious Plan Z which would have demanded so much steel, essentially nothing else in the Reich could have been built.  Although not one vessel in Plan Z ever left the slipway (the facilities even to lay down the keels non-existent), such a fleet would have been impressive, the largest (the H-44) fitted with eight 20-inch (508 mm) cannons.  Even more to the Führer’s liking was the concept of the H-45, equipped with eight 31.5 inch (800 mm) Gustav siege guns.  However, although he never lost faith in the key to success on the battlefield being bigger and bigger tanks, the experience of surface warfare at sea convinced Hitler the days of the big ships were over and he would even try to persuade the navy to retire all their capital ships and devote more resources to the submarines which, as late as 1945, he hoped might still prolong the war.  Had he imposed such priorities in 1937-1938 so the Kriegsmarine (German Navy) could have entered World War II with the ability permanently to have 100 submarines engaged in high-seas raiding rather than barely a dozen, the early course of the war might radically have been different.  Germany indeed entered the war without a single aircraft carrier (the only one laid down never completed), such was the confidence the need to confront the Royal Navy either would never happen or was years away.

The US Navy in 1940 began construction of six Iowa class battleships but only four were ever launched because it had become clear the age of the aircraft carrier and submarine had arrived and the last battleship launched was the Royal Navy’s HMS Vanguard which entered service in 1946.  Although the admirals remained fond of the fine cut of her silhouette on the horizon, to the Treasury (an institution in the austere, post-war years rapidly asserting its authority over the Admiralty) the thing was a white elephant, something acknowledged even by the romantic, battleship-loving Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) who, when in November, 1953 planning a trip to Bermuda for a summit meeting with Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US POTUS 1953-1961), opted to fly because “it costs Stg£30,000 if we go by Vanguard, and only £3,000 by air.”  In 1959, Vanguard was sold for scrap and broken up the next year while the last of the Iowa class ships were decommissioned in 1992 after having spent many years of their life in a non-active reserve.  Defiant is of course a most Churchillian word and after World War I (1914-1918, he was asked by a French municipality to devise the wording for its war memorial.  He proposed:

IN WAR: RESOLUTION

IN DEFEAT: DEFIANCE

IN VICTORY: MAGNANIMITY

IN PEACE: GOODWILL

At the time, old Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; French prime minister 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) wasn’t feeling much magnanimity towards the Germans and nor was he much in the mood to extend any goodwill so Churchill’s suggestion was rejected.  

Depiction of Trump class USS Defiant issued by the US Navy, December, 2025.

The conventional wisdom therefore was the days of the big warships were done and the Soviet Navy’s curious decision in the 1980s to lay down five (four of which were launched) Kirov class battlecruisers seemed to confirm the view.  Although the Kremlin called the ships тяжёлый атомный ракетный крейсер (heavy nuclear-powered guided missile cruisers), admiralties in the West, still nostalgic lot, choose to revive the old name “battlecruiser”.  The battlecruiser (essentially a battleship with less armor) was a brainchild of the naval theorists of the early twentieth century but while the concept was sound (and in practice may have proved so if the theory had been followed at sea) but in service was a disappointment and none were commissioned after 1920 until the Soviets revived the idea.  As recently as 2018, NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization) sources were sceptical any of the Russian ships would ever return to service but in 2025 the Admiral Nakhimov (ex-Kalinin) emerged from a long and expensive re-fit & modernization to serve as the world’s biggest warship.  Although fast and heavily armed, concern remains about her vulnerability to missiles and torpedoes.

Depiction of Trump class USS Defiant issued by the US Navy, December, 2025.

The US Navy seems confident about the protection afforded by the Trump class’s systems, claiming “the battleship [the Pentagon’s term] will be capable of operating independently, as part of a Carrier Strike Group, or commanding its own Surface Action Group depending on the mission and threat environment.”  In other words, unlike an aircraft carrier, the security of the vessel does not depend on a flotilla of destroyers and other smaller escort vessels.  The first of the Trump class is projected to cost between US$10-15 billion although, on the basis of experience, few will be surprised if this number “blows out”.  The Trump class will be the flagships for the Navy’s “Golden Fleet” initiative (an old naval term dating from days of the Spanish colonial Empire and nothing to do with Mr Trump’s fondness for the metal).  In an age in which small, cheap, UAVs (unmanned aerial vehicles, usually referred to as drones) have revolutionized warfare (on land and at sea), the return of the big ships is as interesting as it was unexpected and analysts are already writing their assessments of the prospects of success.

Although the concept wasn’t new, it was late in the nineteenth century naval architects began to apply the word “class” systematically to group ships of the same design, the pioneers the Royal Navy but other powers soon adopted the practice.  It had long been the practice for warships to be constructed on the basis of substantially replicating existing designs and some truly were “identical” to the extent a series would now be called a “class” but before the terminology became (more or less) standardized, warships usually were described by their “Rate” or “Type” (first-rate ship of the line, corvette, frigate etc) but, in the usual military way, there was also much informal slang including phrases such as “the Majestic battleships” or “ships of the Iron Duke type”.  The crystallization of the “class” concept was really a result of technological determinism as the methods developed in factories which emerged during the industrial revolution spread to ship-building; steam power, hulls of iron & steel and the associated complex machinery made design & construction increasingly expensive, thus the need to amortize investment and reduce build times by ordering ships in batches with near-identical specifications.

Navies in the era were also becoming more bureaucratic (a process which never stopped and some believe is accelerating still) and Admiralties became much taken with precise accounting and doctrinal categorisation.  The pragmatic admirals however saw no need to reinvent the wheel, “class” already well-established in engineering and taxonomy, the choice thus an obvious administrative convenience.  The “new” nomenclature wasn’t heralded as a major change or innovations, the term just beginning to appear in the 1870s in Admiralty documents, construction programmes and parliamentary papers in which vessels were listed in groups including Devastation class ironclad turret ships (laid down 1869), Colossus class battleships (laid down 1879) and Admiral class battleships (1880s).  In recent history tests, warships prior to this era sometimes are referred to as “Ship-of-the-line class”, “Three decker class” etc but this use is retrospective.  The French Navy adopted the convention almost simultaneously (with the local spelling classe) with Imperial Germany’s Kaiserliche Marine (Imperial Navy) following in the 1890s with Klasse.  The US Navy was comparatively late to formalise the use and although “class” in this context does appear in documents in the 1890s, the standardization wasn’t complete until about 1912.

As a naming convention (“King George V class”, “Iowa class” etc), the rule is the name chosen is either (1) the first ship laid down, or (2) the lead ship commissioned.  According to Admiralty historians, this wasn’t something determined by a committee or the whim of an admiral (both long naval traditions) but was just so obviously practical.  It certainly wasn’t an original idea because the term “class” was by the late nineteenth century well established in industrial production, civil engineering, and military administration; if anything the tradition-bound admirals were late-adopters, sticking to their old classificatory habit long after it had outlived its usefulness.  With ships becoming bigger and more complex, what was needed was a system (which encompassed not only the ships but also components such as guns, torpedoes, engines etc) which grouped objects according to their defined technical specification rather than their vague “type” (which by then had become most elastic) or individual instances; naval architecture had entered the “age of interchangability”.

A docked Boomin' Beaver.

It’s good the US Navy is gaining (appropriately large) “Trump Class” warships (which the president doubtless will call “battleships” although they’re more in the “battlecruiser” tradition).  Within the fleet however there are on the register many smaller vessels and the most compact is the 19BB (Barrier Boat), a specialized class of miniature tugboat used deploy and maintain port security booms surrounding Navy ships and installations in port.  Over the last quarter century there have been a dozen-odd commissioned of which ten remain in active service.  Unlike many of the Pentagon’s good (and expensive) ideas, the Barrier Boats were a re-purposing of an existing design, their original purpose being in the logging industry where they were used to manoeuvre logs floating along inland waterways.  In that role the loggers dubbed them “log broncs” because the stubby little craft would “rear up like a rodeo bronco” when spun around by 180^o.  Sailors of course have their own slang and they (apparently affectionately) call the 19BBs the “Boomin’ Beaver”, the origin of that being uncertain but it may verge on the impolite.  It’s not known if President Trump is aware of the useful little BB19 but if brought to his attention, he may be tempted to order two of them renamed “USS Joe Biden” and “USS Crooked Hillary” although, unlike those reprobates, the Boomin’ Beavers have done much good work for the nation.

The Arc de Triomphe, Paris (left), Donald Trump with model of his proposed arch, the White House, October, 2025 (centre) and a model of the arch, photographed on the president's Oval Office desk (right).  Details about the arch remain sketchy but it's assumed (1) it will be "big" and (2) there will be some gold, somewhere.

As well as big ships (and the big Donald J Trump Ballroom already under construction where the White House’s East Wing once stood), Mr Trump is also promising a “big arch”.  A part of the president’s MDCBA (Make D.C. Beautiful Again) project, the structure (nicknamed the “Triumphal Arch” and in the style of the Arc de Triomphe which stands in the centre of the Place Charles de Gaulle (formerly the Place de l’Étoile), the western terminus of the avenue des Champs-Élysées) is scheduled to be completed in time to celebrate the nation’s 250^th anniversary on 4 July 2026.  Presumably, on that day, it will be revealed the official name is something like the “Donald J Trump Sestercentennial Arch” which will appear on the structure in large gold letters.  The arch is said to be “privately funded”, using money left over from what was donated to build the ballroom, a financing mechanism which has attracted some comment from those concerned about the “buying of influence”.

Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) sketch of an arch (1926, left) and Hitler, Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) and others examining Speer's model of the arch, presented 20 April 1939 upon the occasion of the Führer’s 50^th birthday (right; note the pattern in carpet).

A model of Germania.  To give some indication of the scale, within the dome of the huge meeting hall (at top of image), St. Peter's Cathedral in Rome would have fitted several times over; its diameter of the dome would have been 250 metres (825 feet).

Commissioned to honor those who fought and died for France during the French Revolutionary (1792-1802) and Napoleonic Wars (1803-1815), construction of the Arc de Triomphe (officially the Arc de Triomphe de l'Étoile) absorbed 30-odd years between 1806-1836, as a piece of representational architecture the structure is thought perfectly proportioned for assessment by the human eye and perhaps for this reason it has been admired by many.  As early as 1926, Adolf Hitler sketched his vision of a grand arch for Berlin, while bitter experience taught him the big warships were a bad idea because of their vulnerability to air attack, he never lost his enthusiasm for megalomania in architecture and in Albert Speer he found the ideal architect.  Noting the dimensions in Hitler’s sketch, Speer responded with something in the spirit of their blueprint for Germania.  Hitler’s planned the rebuilding of Berlin to be complete by 1950, less than ten years after the expected victory in a war which would have made him the master of Europe from the French border to the Ural mountains (things didn’t work out well for him).  While the 50 metre (163 feet) tall Arc de Triomphe presented a monumental appearance and provided a majestic terminus for the Champs Elysees, Speer’s arch stood 117 meters (384 feet) in height but even though obviously substantial, it would have been entirely in scale with the rest of Germania, the whole place built in a way to inspire awe simply by virtue of sheer size.

Mural

Mural (pronounced myoor-uhl)

(1) A large picture painted or affixed directly on a wall or ceiling.

(2) A greatly enlarged photograph attached directly to a wall.

(3) A wallpaper pattern representing a landscape or the like, often with very widely spaced repeats so as to produce the effect of a mural painting on a wall of average size; sometimes created as a trompe l'oeil (“deceives the eye”).

(4) Of, relating to, or resembling a wall.

(5) Executed on or affixed to a wall.

(6) In early astronomy, pertaining to any of several astronomical instruments that were affixed to a wall aligned on the plane of a meridian; formerly used to measure the altitude of celestial bodies.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English mural, from the Latin mūrālis (of or pertaining to a wall), the construct being mūr(us) (wall) + ālis (the Latin suffix added to a noun or numeral to form an adjective of relationship; alternative forms were āris, ēlis, īlis & ūlis).  The Latin mūrālis was from the Old Latin moiros & moerus, from the primitive Indo-European root mei (to fix; to build fences or fortifications) from which Old English picked-up mære (boundary, border, landmark) and Old Norse gained mæri (boundary, border-land).  In the historic record, the most familiar Latin form was probably munire (to fortify, protect).  The sense of "a painting on a wall" seems to have emerged as late as 1915 as a clipping of "mural-painting" (a painting executed upon the wall of a building), a term in use since at least 1850 and derived from mural in its adjectival form.

The adjective intermural (between walls) dates from the 1650s, from the Latin intermuralis (situated between walls), the construct being from inter- (between) + muralis (pertaining to a wall) from mūrus (wall).  The adjective intramural (within the walls (of a city, building etc)) dates from 1846, the construct being intra- (within) + muralis (pertaining to a wall) from mūrus (wall); it was equivalent to Late Latin intramuranus and in English, was used originally in reference to burials of the dead.  It came first to be used in relation to university matters by Columbia in 1871.  Mural is a noun, verb & adjective; muraled is a verb & adjective, muralist & muralism are nouns and muraling is a verb; the noun plural is murals.  The adjectives murallike, muralish & muralesque are non-standard and the adverb murally is unrelated, murally a term from heraldry meaning “with a mural crown” and used mostly in the technical terms “murally crowned” & “murally gorged”.  A mural crown was a crown or headpiece representing city walls or towers and was used as a military decoration in Ancient Rome and later as a symbol in European heraldry; its most common representation was as a shape recalling the alternating merlons (raised structures extending the wall) atop a castle’s turret which provided defensive positions through which archers could fire.  The style remains familiar in some of the turrets which sometimes on the more extravagant McMansions and in the chess piece properly called the rook but also referred to as a castle.

Lindsay Lohan murals in the style of street art (graffiti): In hijab (al-amira) with kebab roll by an unknown street artist, Melbourne, Australia (left), the photograph the artist took as a template (centre) and in a green theme in Welcome to Venice mural by UK-born Californian street artist Jules Muck (b 1978) (right).  While a resident of Venice Beach, Ms Lohan lived next door to former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (b 1977).

In multi-cultural Australia, the kebab roll has become a fixture in the fast-food scene with variations extending from vegan to pure meat, the term “kebab” something of a generic term meaning what the vendor decides it means.  Cross-culturally the kebab roll also fills a niche as the standard 3 am snack enjoyed by those leaving night clubs, a place and time at which appetites are heightened.  After midnight, many kebab rolls are sold by street vendors from mobile carts and those in the Middle East will not be surprised to learn barbaric Australians sometimes add pineapple to their roll.  The photograph of Ms Lohan in hijab was taken during a “doorstop” (an informal press conference) after her visit in October 2016 to Gaziantep (known to locals as Antep), a city in the Republic of Türkiye’s south-eastern Anatolia Region.  The purpose of the visit was to meet with Syrian refugees being housed in Gaziantep’s Nizip district and the floral hijab was a gift from one of the residents who presumably assisted with the placement because there’s an art to a well-worn al-amira.  Ms Muck’s work was a gesture to welcome Ms Lohan moving from Hollywood to Venice Beach and the use of green is a theme in many of her works.  Unfortunately, Ms Lohan’s time in Venice Beach was brief because she was compelled to return to New York City after being stalked by the Freemasons.

Mural montage: Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) osculating with Mr Putin (Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999), Benjamin Netanyahu (b 1949; Israeli prime minister 1996-1999, 2009-2021 and since 2022), Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022), Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) and “Lyin’ Ted” Cruz (b 1970; US senator (Republican-Texas) since 2013).

Probably not long after the charcoal and ochre of the first cave paintings was seen by someone other than the artist, there emerged the calling of “art critic” and while the most common fork of that well-populated profession focuses on the aesthetic, art has also long been political.  The mural of course has much scope to be controversial because they tend to be (1) big and (2) installed in public spaces, both aspects making the things highly visible.  Unlike a conventionally sized painting which, even if large, a curator can hang in some obscure spot or put into storage, the mural is just where it is and often part of the built environment; there it will be seen.  In art history, few murals have more intriguing tales than Michelangelo’s (Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni; 1475–1564) ceiling and frescos (1508-1512) in the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel but although there were at the time of the commissioning and completion few theological or political squabbles, there were the Vatican’s usual personal and institutional tensions, cardinals and bishops with their own agendas (some financial) peeking and poking into why Julius II (1443–1513; pope 1503-1513) had handed the juicy contract to someone thought primarily a sculptor rather than a painter.

Sistine Chapel, The Vatican, Rome.

The political stoush came later.  At the time, the nudity had been noted and while some voices were raised in opposition, there was no attempt to censor the work because during the High Renaissance, depictions of nudity (on canvas, in marble etc) were all around including in the Vatican but decades later, during the sittings of the Council of Trent (1545–1563), critiques of “nakedness” in art became more vocal.  That was especially the case after the Counter-Reformation (circa 1550–circa 1670) produced a more severe Church, a development with many repercussions, one of which was the “fig-leaf campaign” in which an artist was commissioned to paint over (especially male) genitalia, the traditional “fig leaf” the preferred device.  Perhaps curiously, despite the early appearance of the motif in the art of Christendom, for centuries the fig leaf wasn’t “obligatory” although they appear often enough that at times they must have been at least “desirable” and in other periods and places clearly “essential”.  The later infamous “Fig Leaf Campaign” was initiated by Pope Paul IV (1476–1559; pope 1555-1559) and continued by his successors although it was most associated with the ruling against “lasciviousness” in religious art made in 1563 by the Council of Trent.  It was something very much in the spirit of the Counter-Reformation and it was Pius IV (1499–1565; pope 1559-1565) who commissioned artist Daniele da Volterra (circa 1509–1566) to paint over the genitalia Michelangelo had depicted on his ceiling, extending his repertoire from strategically positioned leaves to artfully placed draperies or loincloths; Romans to his dying day nicknamed Volterra “Il Braghettone” (the breeches maker).  As late as the nineteenth century Greco-Roman statues from antiquity were still having their genitals covered with fig leaves (sometimes detachable, a trick the British Museum later adopted to protect Victoria’s (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) delicate sensibilities during her infrequent visits).  Another example of practical criticism was the edict by Pius IX (1792–1878; pope 1846-1878) that extant male genitalia on some of the classical statues adorning the Vatican should be “modified” and that involved stonemasons, sculptors and other artisans receiving commissions to “modify or cover” as required, some fig leaves at the time added.  It is however a myth popes sometimes would be seen atop a ladder, chisel in hand, hammering away for not only did they hire "the trades" to do their dirty work, what was done was almost always concealment rather than vandalism.

Then a work in progress, this is one of the few known photographs of Diego Rivera's mural in New York City's Rockefeller Center.  According to the Workers Age of 15 June, 1933, the image was "...taken surreptitiously by one of Rivera's aides..."  

Still, no pope ever ordered Michelangelo’s creation painted over but not all artists were so fortunate.  On 9 May 1933 (by coincidence a day when the Nazis publicly were burning books), New York’s very rich Rockefeller family ordered Mexican artist Diego Rivera (1886-1957) to cease work on his mural depicting "human intelligence in control of the forces of nature", then being painted in the great hall of the 70-storey Rockefeller Center in New York City.  Taking photographs of the mural was also prohibited.  What incurred the family’s wrath was the artist's addition of a depiction of Bolshevik revolutionary comrade Vladimir Lenin (1870–1924; head of government of Russia or Soviet Union 1917-1924) against a background of crowds of unemployed workers.  Comrade Lenin had not appeared in the conceptual sketch (entitled Man at the Crossroads Looking with Hope and High Vision to the Choosing of a New and Better Future) the artist had provided prior to the commission being granted.  Nelson Rockefeller (1908–1979; US vice president 1974-1977 and who earned immortality by having "died on the job") genuinely was a modern art fan-boy and attempted to negotiate a compromise but it was the nadir of the Great Depression, marked by plummeting industrial production, bank failures and an unemployment rate approaching 25%; other family members, knowing there was in the air talk of revolution (the Rockefeller family had much to lose), didn’t want unemployed getting ideas.  To them, Lenin was close to being the devil incarnate and "the devil makes work for idle hands".  The mural was covered by a canvas drape until February 1934 when, under cover of darkness, it was broken up and carted off to be dumped, the family dutifully having paid the artist his US$21,000 fee.

Macabre

Macabre (pronounced muh-kah-bruh, muh-kahb or muh-kah-ber)

(1) Gruesome or horrifying; grim; ghastly; horrible.

(2) Of, pertaining to, dealing with, or representing death, especially its grimmer or uglier aspects.

(3) Of or suggestive of the allegorical dance of death and related works of art.

1370s: From the French macabre, from the Middle French danse (de) Macabré, of uncertain origin.  It may have been influenced by the Medieval Latin chorēa Machabaeōrum (a representation of the deaths of Judas Maccabaeus and his brothers) but there’s no documentary evidence (the Maccabees a “liberation movement” who in the second and first centuries BC established Jewish independence in the Land of Israel),  In the popular imagination, the biblical Maccabees became associated death because of the doctrines and prayers for the dead in 2 Maccabees 12:43-46 in which is discussed Judas Maccabeus sending money to Jerusalem as a “sin offering” for those of his soldiers who had fallen in battle while wearing idolatrous amulets, forbidden by Jewish law.  Theologically, the passage is controversial because not all accept the interpretations which focus on the significance of a Jewish belief in prayer for the dead and the concept of Purgatory as a place rather than conceptual imagining.  The notion of “prayer & payments” as the means by which the dead could be “loosed from their earthly sins” so in Purgatory their souls would undergo purification after death did become embedded in Christianity, later associated with the rampant corruption of clerical indulgences which would play a part in triggering the reformation.  The alternative suggestion for the etymology is the French form was (via the Spanish macabro) from the Arabic مَقَابِر (maqābir) (cemeteries), plural of مَقْبَرَة (maqbara) or مَقْبُرَة (maqbura).  Borrowing from the Arabic in plural form was not unusual (eg magazine, derived from the plural مخازن (maxāzin) of the Arabic singular noun مخزن (maxzan) (storehouse; depot; shop) so etymologically the theory is possible but, like the Latin link, evidence wholly is lacking. 

The abstracted sense of “characterized by gruesomeness” emerged in French in the 1840s and that was picked up by English by at least 1889, dictionaries noting a racial sense from 1921.  The sense of “a comedy that deals in themes and subjects usually regarded as serious or taboo” was what extended the figurative use, suggesting “something morbid”.  The origin of that, although contested, is most associated with the French left and new wave of the late 1950s (pièce noire, comédie noire) which may have been the source of the terms “black comedy” & “dark comedy” in English.  Words similar in meaning include spooky, ghastly, ghoulish, grisly, morbid, gruesome, weird, frightening, grim, lurid, cadaverous, deathly, dreadful, frightful, ghostly, hideous, horrible, offensive & scary.  The first known reference to “danse macabre” dates from 1376 in the poem Respit de la Mort: Je fis de macabre la dance (Spared from death, the dance of the macabre) by Jehan Le Fèvre:

Je fis de Macabre la danse,
Qui tout gent maine à sa trace
E a la fosse les adresse.

I danced with the Macabre,
Which all people follow in his footsteps
And send them to the grave.

The poet used it as a noun, inspired presumably by a near-death experience but when it in the early-mid 1400s came into common use it was as an adjective and during the Romantic era it assumed also the meanings some distance from death (grotesque, tragic etc).  In the late Middle English the spelling was Macabrees daunce (reflecting the influence of the Church) and the French pronunciation (with mute “e”) was a misreading of the Middle French forms.  Macabre is an adjective, macabreness is a noun and macabrely is an adverb.  The spelling macaber is now so rare as to be functionally extinct and in popular culture macabre is used as a non-standard noun (the plural “the macabres”, on the model of the disparaging “the ghastlies”).  

Dance of Death

Danse Macabre of Basel (circa 1450), a memento mori painting by an unknown artist, Historisches Museum Basel (Basel Historical Museum), Barfüsserkirche, Basel, Switzerland.

The Danse Macabre (Dance of Death) was an artistic genre of allegory dating from the late Middle Ages; exploring the universality of death, it made clear that however high or low exulted one’s station in life, the death ultimately will visit all.  It was a popular artistic motif in European folklore and the most elaborated of all Medieval macabre art.  During the fourteenth century, Europe was beset by deathly horrors, recurring famines, the Hundred Years’ War (1337-1453) and, looming over all, the Black Death, an outbreak of bubonic plague which between 1346-1353 may have killed as many as 50 million, making it one of history's most lethal pandemics.  In reducing the population of Europe by between a third and a half, its demographic, political and economic implications were felt for centuries.  In these difficult times, when death not infrequently would strike just about every family in some regions, the Danse Macabre culturally was assimilated across the continent, an omnipresent chance of either a sudden or lingering, painful death spurring not only a religious desire for penance but also an urge to make the most of whatever time was left to one.

Macabre montage: Three images from Terry Richardson's (b 1965) suicide-themed shoot with Lindsay Lohan, 2012.

Especially during the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, the theme was a source of the vivid and stark paintings on the walls of churches and the cloisters of cemeteries and ossuaries.  Art of the Danse Macabre was typically a depiction of the personification of death summoning the doomed to dance along to the grave and they featured characters from the exultated to the most humble; popes, emperors, lawyers, laborers & children all appearing, the popular motifs in the works including hourglasses, skulls and extinguished candles.  Although the art was moral and allegorical, many also had a satirical tone and, reflecting the mores of the times, although they made clear death finally would claim rich and poor alike, the living usually were arranged in an order following the the conventional sense of precedence, popes, cardinals, kings, dukes and such at the head of the queue, blacksmiths, fellmongers and farm workers knowing their place; the “cold gradations of decay” in the phrase of Dr Johnson (Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)).  The pieces were also among the multi-media productions of the medieval period, appearing variously in manuscript illustrations, printed books, paintings on canvas, wood & stone, engravings on stone and metal, woodcuts, sculpture, tapestry embroidery & stained glass as well as in prose & verse.  They were produced as mementos mori, a Latin phrase translated literally as “remember you will die”.  That wasn’t intended to be thought macabre but rather a gentle reminder of the brevity of life and the fragility of earthly existence, hopefully inspiring folk to live lives more fulfilling and purposeful.  The tradition, although it became increasingly detached from its religious associations, never died and has enjoyed periodic resurgences over the last six-hundred years, notably after horrific events such as epidemics or World War I (1914-1918).  The COVID-19 pandemic seemed not to stimulate similar art; popular culture’s preferred platforms have shifted.

The lure of macabre collectables 

It's macabrely ironic the market for bits and pieces associated with RMS Titanic (1911-1912) continues to be buoyant and although for decades after the end of World War II (1939-1945) the trade in Nazi memorabilia flourished on both sides of the Atlantic, in recent years such collecting has attracted increasingly strident criticism and in some jurisdictions the (public) buying and selling of certain items has been banned,  There remains some tolerance for the trade what which would otherwise anyway be collectable (aircraft, armoured vehicles and such) and items of genuine historical significance (such as diplomatic papers) remain acceptable but the circulation of mere ephemera with some Nazi link is increasingly being condemned as macabre and the higher the prices paid, the more distasteful it’s claimed to be.  Nor is it only material tainted by an association with the Nazis which is condemned by some as “trading in the macabre”.

French racing driver Pierre Levegh (1905-1955) in Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR (chassis 0006/55, left), the wreckage after the fire finally was extinguished (centre) and the surviving Elektron panel (right).

In 2023, a battered metal panel from the Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR (W196S, chassis 0006/55) which crashed during the running of the 1955 Le Mans 24 Hour endurance classic sold at auction for US$37,000.  That would have been unremarkable except it was in the aftermath of that crash that more than 80 spectators were killed and many more badly injured; it remains the most lethal single event in the history of the sport and one which led to some profound changes, many of which remain in force to this day.  Footage of the crash is available on-line and it will shock those accustomed to modern safety standards to see the cars continuing to race despite the carnage in the grandstand only metres away, the driver’s corpse lying on the track and the wreckage of the 300 SLR continuing to burn, the water used by fire-fighters making the intensity worse because of the exotic Elektron (a magnesium alloy) used in the lightweight construction.  The surviving panel (a cover placed for aerodynamic advantage over the passenger-side of the cockpit) was retrieved by a track marshal and it remained in his family’s possession until offered at auction by his nephew who inherited it.  Based on the unique underside markings, the factory confirmed the provenance and the auction house described it as “an authentic relic” from one of the “most exclusive models in the history of the automobile”, its special significance coming from involvement in “one of the most significant events in the history of international motor sport”.  Some though it macabre to be trading in something which gained its notoriety from so much death but the interest in such stuff in long standing, the Austin-Healey also involved in the incident in 2011 selling for US$1.3 million although it subsequently had been repaired and continued to race so anyway would have been a collectable on the historic racing circuit though doubtlessly it would have commanded a lower price.

US film star James Dean (1931–1955) with 1955 Porsche 550 Spyder (chassis 550-0055) shortly before his death, the 1955 Ford Country Squire with tandam-axle trailer the team’s tow vehicle (left), the wrecked Porsche (centre) and its salvaged transaxle in display mounting (right).

The Cadillac to Mr Dean's left is a 1953 model and, beyond both having four wheels, one of the few things it had in common with the Porsche was the availability of a manual transmission (Porsche at the time offered no choice).  The black Cadillac was probably fitted with the company's four-speed Hydra-Matic automatic transmission although, after a fire destroyed the factory, almost 30,000 were in 1953 equipped with Buick's famously smooth but inefficient two-speed Dynaflow.  After the end of production of the 1953 Series 75, almost three decades would pass before Cadillac again offered a model with a manual transmission although that didn't end well (among the Cadillac crowd the Cimarron (1982-1988) is never spoken of except in the phrase "the unpleasantness of 1982") but in a much more convincing way the option returned to the list in 2004 and by 2013, while one could buy a Cadillac with a clutch pedal, one could not buy such a Ferrari.  For most of the second half of the twentieth century, few would have thought that anything but improbable or unthinkable.   

The death toll need not be in the dozens for collectors to be drawn to relics associated with tragedy; one celebrity can be enough.  In 2021, the four-speed transaxle from film star James Dean’s 1955 Porsche 550 Spyder (550-0055) sold in an on-line auction for US$382,000.  Again, based on the serial number (10 046) & part number (113 301 102), factory verified the authenticity and of the auction lot and it was only the transaxle which had been salvaged from the wreck, the display stand and peripheral bits & pieces (axles, axle tubes, brake assemblies etc) all fabricated.  The crash happened on SR (South Route) 466 (now SR 46) near Cholame, California, en route to October’s upcoming Salinas Road Races and Mr Dean was driving to familiarize himself with his new 550 Spyder which, although mid-engined and thus with a preferable weight distribution compared with the rear-engined 356 which previously he’d campaigned, had characteristics different than he’d before experienced.  In the dimming light of the late afternoon, the Porsche collided with the passenger-side of a 1950 Ford Tudor (two-door sedan) which had just entered the highway, driven by California Polytechnic State University student Donald Turnupseed (1932-1955).  Mr Turnupseed (later cleared by authorities of any blame) suffered only minor injuries while Mr Dean, less than an hour later, was pronounced DoA (dead on arrival) at hospital.

The much re-printed photograph of Sofia Loren (b 1934, left) and Jayne Mansfield (1933-1967, right), Romanoff's restaurant, Beverly Hills, Los Angeles, April 1957 (right), the "Mansfield crash" aftermath, June 1967 (centre) and a 1966 Buick Electra 225, claimed to be the car in which Jayne Mansfield died, Dearly Departed Tours and Artifact Museum, Los Angeles, California (right).

Ms Loren's sideways glance, one of the most famous in Hollywood's long history of such looks, variously has been interpreted as “sceptical”, “disapproving” and “envious”, the latter view likely restricted to men.  Ms Loren herself explained the look as one of genuine concern the pink satin gown might not prove equal to the occasion; on the night, there were several photographers covering the event and images taken from other angles illustrate why that concern was reasonable.  There has never been any doubt Ms Mansfield's "wardrobe malfunction" was "engineered and rehearsed".  In her pomp a significant figure in popular culture and a genuine celebrity, Ms Mansfield was a model & actress and what would later come to be known as a “multi-media personality”.  When young she won a number of sponsored beauty contests including being crowned “Miss Magnesium Lamp”, “Miss Fire Prevention Week” and “Miss Photoflash” but it’s reported she drew the line at becoming “Miss Roquefort Cheese” on the grounds it “just didn’t sound right”, something on which she seems not to have expanded, the chance to be “Miss Prime Rib” later also declined.

Three months later and great minds are thinking alike: Shirley Perdew (1939-2020, right), looking at Jayne Mansfield, Garden of Allah Hotel, Hollywood, July 1957.  Ms Perdew had just been crowned "Miss Hollywood 1957") and, as a former "Miss Photoflash", Ms Mansfield had been invited to join the voting panel.  The hotel was built in 1913 as a private residence before in 1926 being converted into a residential hotel; it was demolished in 1959.

On 28 June 1967, Ms Mansfield was a front-seat passenger in a 1966 Buick Electra 225 four-door hardtop, en route to New Orleans where she was next day to be the subject of an interview.  While cruising along the highway at around two in the morning, the driver failed to perceive the semi-truck in front had slowed to a crawl because an anti-mosquito truck ahead was conducting fogging and blocking the lane.  The mist from the spray masked the truck's trailer and, the driver unable to react in time, the car hit at high speed, sliding under the semi-trailer, killing instantly the three front-seat occupants.  Although the myth has long circulated she was decapitated, an idea lent some credence by the visual ambiguity of photographs published at the time, while it was a severe head trauma, an autopsy determined the immediate cause of death was a "crushed skull with avulsion of cranium and brain".  The phenomenon of the “under-run” accident happens with some frequency because of a co-incidence of dimensions in the machines using the roads.  Pre-dating motorised transport, loading docks were built at a height of around four feet (48 inches; 1.2 m) because that was the most convenient height for men of average height engaged in loading and unloading goods.  Horse-drawn carts and later trucks were built to conform to this standard so trays would always closely align with dock.  Probably very shortly after cars and trucks began sharing roads, they started crashing into each other and, despite impact speeds and traffic volumes being relatively low, the under-run accident was noted in statistics as a particular type as early as 1927.

1966 Buick Electra 225 Custom four-door Hardtop. GM (General Motors) Buick Division publicity shot.

The Buick was sold to a Florida-based collector who for decades kept it in storage before it was obtained for exhibition by the Dearly Departed Tours and Artifact Museum in Los Angeles, California.  The museum, described by its founder Scott Michaels as “for two decades a Los Angeles fixture”, was located on Santa Monica Boulevard, across from the Hollywood Forever Cemetery and was a “bricks & mortar” outgrowth of was a guided bus tour he’d previously conducted, taking tourists around the locations of tragic or horrific events which had transpired in the city; he had no shortage of sites.  Mr Michaels coined the term “Death Hag” and, as the ongoing popularity of “dark tourism” (variants including “atrocity tourism” and “holocaust tourism”) indicates, there is a market among those attracted to the macabre although motivations for the interest will be varied.  The museum had a focus on departed pop-culture celebrities and other exhibits included Mae West’s (1893–1980) false teeth, Rock Hudson’s (1925–1985) death bed, one of Sharon Tate’s (1943–1969) bras (32C) and a cigarette butt stubbed out by Carrie Fisher (1956-2016).

Dearly Departed Tours.

A thoughtfully designed site, as well as T-shirts and a gift store (blades of grass from the "grassy knoll" in Dealy Plaza, Dallas which made infomous by the assassination of John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963; a fragment of the timber from Rock Hudson's death bed; shards of the shattered windscreen of Jayne Mansfield's death car and much more), there's a helpful "Find-a-Death" lookup feature (described by the L.A. Times as "deliciously sordid").

Presumably, frequently Mr Michaels checks for updates on the the well-curated Dead People site and it’s unlikely he’ll soon run out of subject matter because the recent proliferation of platforms and distribution channels has meant not only are more celebrities than ever being manufactured but the churn rate has also significantly increased; his mantra: “Famous people die every day” more true now than ever.  Unfortunately, the museum was forced to close in 2021 during the COVID-19 pandemic but, with the same attention to detail, he moved “Dearly Departed Tours” online, an innovation which has enabled his catchment of the macabre to extend well beyond Los Angeles.