Boutique

Boutique (pronounced boo-teek]

(1) A small shop, especially one that sells fashionable clothes and accessories or a special selection of other merchandise.

(2) Within a larger store, a small specialty department.

(3) As a modifier, any (usually small(ish)) business offering customized service (boutique law firm; boutique investment house; boutique winery etc).

(4) In informal use, a small business, department etc, specializing in one aspect of a larger industry (such as the “mining sector analysts”, “transport sector analysts” etch within a financial services research organization).

(5) Of, designating, denoting or characteristic of a small, specialized or exclusive producer (sometimes of the bespoke) or business (either attributive or self-applied).

1767: From the French boutique, from the Middle French, probably from the Old Provençal botica & botiga, from the Latin apotheca (storehouse), ultimately from the Ancient Greek apothēkē (apothecary) (storehouse).  The original meaning in the 1760s was “a small retail outlet (shop) of any sort” boutique, an inheritance from the fourteenth century French source and it wasn’t until the early 1950s it assumed the still familiar sense of “trendy little shop selling fashion items”.  The link with the mid-fourteenth century noun apothecary lay in its sense of “shopkeeper”, the notion of one being a place where is stored and sold “stores, compounds & medicaments (what is now described variously as “a pharmacy: or “chemist shop”) emerged quickly and soon became dominant.  The word was from the French apothicaire, from the Old French apotecaire, from the Late Latin apothecarius (storekeeper), from the Latin apotheca (storehouse)m from the Ancient Greek apothēkē (barn, storehouse (literally “a place where things are put away”)), the construct being apo- (away) + thēkē (receptacle (from a suffixed form of primitive Indo-European root dhe- (to set, put)).  The same Latin word produced French boutique, the Spanish bodega and the German Apotheke; the cognate compounds produced the Sanskrit apadha- (concealment) and the Old Persian apadana- (palace) and one quirk was that had the usual conventions been followed, the Latin apotheca would have emerged in French as avouaie.  The French masculine noun boutiquier (the plural boutiquiers; the feminine boutiquière) translates as “shopkeeper, storekeeper”.  Boutique is a noun & adjective and boutiquey & boutiquelike are adjectives; the noun plural is boutiques.  Of the adjectival use (resembling or characteristic of a boutique (however defined), the comparative is “more boutiquey”, the superlative “most boutiquey”).

Lindsay Lohan at the Singer22 boutique (described as the company’s “flagship store”), Long Island, New York, March 2011 (left) and at the opening of the Philipp Plein (b 1978) boutique, Mykonos, Greece, June 2019 (right).  Among fashion retailers, the term “boutique” is used both of high-end designer outlets and mass-market, high volume operations.  What the word implies can thus vary from “exclusive; expensive” to “trendy, edgy, celebrity influenced” etc.

Modern commerce understood the linguistic possibilities and that included the portmanteaus (1) fruitique (the construct being fruit + (bout)ique) (a trendy (ie high-priced) fruit shop in an area of high SES (socio-economic status)) and (2) postique (the construct being post(al) +‎ (bout)ique).  Originally, postique was a trademark of the USPS (US Postal Service) but it came to be used of retail stores selling items relating to postal mail (stamps, stationery and such).  One interesting trend in middle-class retailing has been the niche of the “boutiquey” stationery shop where the focus is on elegant versions of what are usually utilitarian office consumables; impressionistically, the client base appears almost exclusively female.  The “e-boutique” is an on-line retailer using the term to suggest its lines of garments are targeting a younger demographic.  The term “boutique camping” (services offering “going camping” without most of the discomforts (ie with air-conditioned tents, sanitation, running hot water etc) never caught on because the portmanteau “glamping” (the construct being glam(our) + cam(ping)) was preferred and, as a general principle, in popular use, a word with two syllables will tend to prevail over one with four.

By the 1970s, the term “boutique” had spread in fashion retailing to the extent it was part of general language; it tended to be understood as meaning “exclusive, small-scale fashion stores” which were in some way niche players (more on the cutting edge of design, specializing in a certain segment et al) in a way which contrasted with the large department stores.  The word gained a cachet and by the 1980s the “boutique hotel” was a thing, probably meaning something like “We are not the Hilton”.  That may be unfair and the classic boutique hotel was smaller, sometimes in some way quirky (such as being in a heritage building) and not necessarily cheaper than the major high-end chains.  The advertizing for boutique hotels often emphasized “individuality” rather than the “cookie-cutter” approach of the majors although the economics of running a hotel did conspire against things being too different and the standardization operations like Hilton or Hyatt offered around the world was a genuine attraction for many and not just the corporate clients.  Additionally, what the majors had done was raise the level of expectation and there was thus a baseline of similarity on which boutique players had to build.  Some successfully marketed the “difference” but structurally, there are more similarities than differences.  In the 1990s, the metaphorical sense was extended to just about anything in commerce which could be marketed as “specialized” although initially the most obvious differentiation was probably that the operations so dubbed tended to be “smaller and not part of a large multi-national”.  Thus appeared boutique law firms, boutique investment house, boutique wineries, boutique architects and such.

Boutique Hotel Donauwalzer, Hernalser Gürtel 27, 1170 Wien, Austria.

Although the use of the descriptor “boutique” didn’t become mainstream until the twenty-first century, “boutique” car manufacturers have existed since the early days of the industry and there have been literally hundreds (some of which didn’t last long enough to sell a single machine) and while a few endured to become major manufacturers or be absorbed by larger concerns, most fell victim either the economic vicissitudes which periodically cull those subsisting on discretionary expenditure or in more recent decades, the increasingly onerous web of laws and regulations which consigned to history the idea of "real" cars emerging from cottage industries.  Today, there are boutique operations and they tend to be either (1) parts-bin specialists which combine a bespoke body and interior fittings with components (engines, transmissions, suspension) from the majors or (2) those who modify existing vehicles (Ferraris & Porsches especially favored) with more power, bling or a combination of both.  Either way, the price tag can reach seven figures (in US$ terms).

The established high-end manufacturers noted the industry and although many had long offered customization services, the approach is now more institutionalized and exists as separate departments in separate buildings, there to cater to (almost) every whim of a billionaire (since the expansion of the money supply in the last quarter century they’re now a more numerous and still growing population).  The way the cost of a Porsche, Bentley or Ferrari can grow alarmingly from the list price (and these are not always the fiction some suggest) as the options & “personalizations” accumulate has attracted some wry comment but it’s not something new and the values are relative:  In the late 1960s, a Chevrolet Camaro might be advertized at around US$2800 but by the time the buyer had ticked the desired boxes on the option list, the invoice might read US$4400 or more.  Compared with that, adding US$55,000 in different paint, leather and wheels to a US$350.000 Ferrari starts to make LBJ era Detroit look like a bunch of horse thieves.

Monteverdi’s boutique Swiss concern

Peter Monteverdi (1934–1998 (and believed not in the lineage of Italian composer Claudio Monteverdi (1567–1643)) was a successful Swiss businessman and a less than successful race driver.  He was also one of the many disgruntled customers of Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) and one of several inspired by the experience to produce cars to compete with those made by Il Commendatore.  For a decade between 1967-1976, his eponymous manufacturing concern (unique in Switzerland) produced over a thousand big, elegant (and genuinely fast) coupés, convertibles and sedans, all with the solidly reliable drive-train combination of Chrysler’s 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8, coupled usually with the TorqueFlite automatic transmission and unlike some of the less ambitious boutique players in the era, Peter Monteverdi included engineering innovations such as the DeDion tube rear suspension (which had the advantage of keeping the rear wheels parallel in all circumstances, something desirable given the torque of the 440 and the tyre technology of the era).  In the post oil shock world of stagflation, it couldn’t go on and it didn’t, the last of the big machines leaving the factory in 1976 although Monteverdi did follow a discursive path until production finally ended in 1982; by then it was more (lawful) “chop shop” than boutique but those ten golden years did bequeath some memorable creations:

1970 Monteverdi Hai 450 SS.

The Lamborghini Miura (1966-1973) had fundamental flaws which progressively were ameliorated as production continued but the design meant some problems remained inherent.  People who drove it at high speed sometimes became acquainted with those idiosyncrasies but for those who just looked at the things forgave it because it was stunning achievement in aggression and beauty; it validated the notion of the mid- engined supercar.  Noting the Miura and the rumors of a similar machine from Ferrari (the prototype of which would be displayed at the 1971 Turin Auto Show and be released two years later as the 365 GT4 BB (Berlinetta Boxer the cover-story for the “BB” dsignation, the truth more exotic)), Peter Monteverdi built the Hai 450 SS (painted in a fetching “Purple Mist”) which created a sensation on the factory’s stand at the 1970 Geneva Motor Show.  “Hai” is German for “shark”; the muscular lines certainly recall the beasts  and the specification meant it lived up to the name.  Powered not by the 440 but instead Chrysler’s 426 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Street Hemi V8 (a version of their NASCAR racing engine tamed for street use) and using a ZF five-speed manual gearbox, the claimed top speed was a then impressive 180 mph (290 km/h), some 6-8 mph (10-13 km/h) faster than any Ferrari or Lamborghini and although the number seems never to have been verified, it was at least plausible.  Tantalizing though it was, although orders were received (the price in the UK was quoted at Stg£12,950, some 20% more than a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow), series production was never contemplated and Peter Monteverdi was quoted explaining his reticence by saying “This car is so special you can’t deliver it to everybody.” So although over the years four were built (two with significant differences in mechanical specification) it was only the original prototype which ended up in private hands, the others retained by the factory (displayed at the Monteverdi museum in Binningen, Basel-Landschaft until it closed in 2016).  For trivia buffs, the Hai was the only car powered by a Street Hemi ever to have "factory-fitted" air-conditioning. 

1975 Monteverdi Palm Beach.

By 1975 it was obvious the writing was on the wall for the way things had been done in the era of US$2 a barrel oil but the Palm Beach, shown at that year’s Geneva Motor Show was a fine final fling.  The factory had had a convertible in the catalogue for years but the Palm Beach was different and rather than being a Monteverdi Berlinetta with roadster coachwork (as the appearance would suggest), it was based on the older High Speed 375 C platform with which the company had built its reputation.  It was thus the familiar combination of the 440 and TorqueFlite and the styling updates were an indication of how things would have progressed had events in the Middle East not conspired against it.  Although promotional material was prepared for the show and even a price was quoted (124,000 Swiss Francs), the Palm Beach remained an exquisite one-off.

Monteverdis in the last days of the big blocks: 375/4 (front), 375/L (centre) and Palm Beach (rear).

Others in the trans-Atlantic ecosystem offered four-door sedans including Facel Vega, Iso and De Tomaso but none offered a 7.2 litre big-block V8 or rendered it in such a dramatic low-slung package as the Monteverdi 375/4.  First shown at the 1971 Geneva Motor Show, production didn’t begin until the following year but the big machine made an impression on the press; big and heavy though it was, the aerodynamics must have been better than a first glance would suggest because testers who took it to Germany to run on the Autobahn (really its natural environment), found it would run to a genuine 144 mph, (232 km/h), out-pacing even the Mercedes-Benz 300 SEL 6.3 which had for some time reigned as the fastest four door (although the fastest of the Maserati Quattroportes might contest that).  Regular production of the 375/4 ended in 1973 although it remained available on special order with some demand from the Middle East (where the price of fuel was wasn’t much thought about when filling up) and it’s believed as many as 34 had been built when the last was delivered in 1975.  The last of them looked as good as the first although it wasn’t as fast, the later 440s detuned to meet US emission control rules although 120 mph (195 km/h) was still possible.

Parole

Parole (pronounced puh-rohl or pa-rawl (French))

(1) In penology, the (supervised) conditional release of an inmate from prison prior to the end of the maximum sentence imposed.

(2) Such a release or its duration.

(3) An official document authorizing such a release (archaic except as a modifier).

(4) In military use, the promise (usually in the form of a written certificate) of a prisoner of war, that if released they either will return to custody at a specified time or will not again take up arms against their captors.

(5) Any password given by authorized personnel in passing by a guard (archaic but still used in video gaming).

(6) In military use, a watchword or code phrase; a password given only to officers, distinguished from the countersign, given to all guards (archaic but still used in video gaming).

(7) A word of honor given or pledged (archaic).

(8) In US immigration legislation, the temporary admission of non-U.S. citizens into the US for emergency reasons or on grounds considered in the public interest, as authorized by and at the discretion of the attorney general.

(9) In structural linguistics, language as manifested in the individual speech acts of particular speakers (ie language in use, as opposed to language as a system).

(10) To place or release on parole.

(11) To admit a non-US citizen into the US as provided for in the parole clauses in statute.

(12) Of or relating to parole or parolees:

(13) A parole record (technical use only).

1610–1620: From the Middle French parole (word, formal promise) (short for parole d'honneur (word of honor)), from the Old French parole, from the Late Latin parabola (speech), from the Classical Latin parabola (comparison), from the Ancient Greek παραβολή (parabolḗ) (a comparison; parable (literally “a throwing beside”, hence “a juxtaposition").  The verb was derived from the noun an appeared early in the eighteenth century; originally, it described “what the prisoner did” (in the sense of a “pledge”) but this sense has long been obsolete.  The transitive meaning “put on parole, allow to go at liberty on parole” was in use by the early 1780s while the use to refer to “release (a prisoner) on his own recognizance” doesn’t appear for another century.  The adoption in English was by the military in the sense of a “word of honor” specifically that given by a prisoner of war not to escape if allowed to go about at liberty, or not to take up arms again if allowed to return home while the familiar modern sense of “a (supervised) conditional release of a inmate before their full term is served” was a part of criminal slang by at least 1910.  An earlier term for a similar thing was ticket of leave.  In law-related use, parol is the (now rare) alternative spelling.  Parole is a noun & verb, parolee is a noun, paroled & paroling are verbs and parolable, unparolable, unparoled & reparoled are adjectives (hyphenated use is common); the noun plural is paroles.

A parole board (or parole authority, parole panel etc) is panel of people who decide whether a prisoner should be released on parole and if released, the parolee is placed for a period under the supervision of a parole officer (a law enforcement officer who supervises offenders who have been released from incarceration and, often, recommends sentencing in courts of law).  In some jurisdictions the appointment is styled as “probation officer”.  The archaic military slang pass-parole was an un-adapted borrowing from French passe-parole (password) and described an order passed from the front to the rear by word of mouth. Still sometimes used in diplomatic circles, the noun porte-parole (plural porte-paroles) describes “a spokesperson, one who speaks on another's behalf” and was an un-adapted borrowing from mid sixteenth century French porte-parole, from the Middle French porteparolle.

The Parole Evidence Rule

In common law systems, the parol evidence rule is a legal principle in contract law which restricts the use of extrinsic (outside) evidence to interpret or alter the terms of a written contract.  The operation of the parol evidence rule means that if two or more parties enter into a written agreement intended to be a complete and final expression of their terms, any prior or contemporaneous oral or written statements that contradict or modify the terms of that written agreement cannot be used in court to challenge the contract’s provisions.  The rule applies only to properly constructed written contracts which can be regarded as “final and complete written agreements” and the general purpose is to protect the integrity of the document.  Where a contract is not “held to be final and complete”, parol evidence may be admissible, including cases of fraud, misrepresentation, mistake, illegality or where the written contract is ambiguous.  The most commonly used exceptions are (1) Ambiguity (if a court declares a contract term ambiguous, external evidence may be introduced to to clarify the meaning), (2) Void or voidable contracts (if a contract was entered into under duress or due to fraud or illegality, parol evidence can be used to prove this.  In cases of mistakes, the scope is limited but it can still be possible), (3) Incomplete contracts (if a court determines a written document doesn’t reflect the full agreement between the parties, parol evidence may be introduced to “complete it”, (4) Subsequent agreements (modifications or agreements made after the written contract can generally be proven with parol evidence although in the narrow technical sense such additions may be found to constitute a “collateral contract”.

Parole & probation

Depending on the jurisdiction, “parole” & “probation” can mean much the same thing or things quite distinct, not helped by parolees in some places being supervised by “probation officers” and vice versa.

In the administration of criminal law, “parole” and “probation” are both forms of supervised release but between jurisdictions the terms can either mean the same thing or be applied in different situations.  As a general principle, parole is the conditional release of a prisoner before completing their full sentence and those paroled usually are supervised by a parole officer and must adhere to certain conditions such as regular meetings, drug testing and maintaining employment and certain residential requirements.  The purpose of parole is (1) a supervised reintegration of an inmate into society and (2) a reward for good behavior in prison.  Should a parolee violate the conditions of their release, they can be sent back to prison to serve the remainder of their sentence.  As the word typically is used, probation is a court-ordered period of supervision in the community instead of, or in addition to, a prison sentence.  A term of probation often imposed at sentencing, either as an alternative to incarceration or as a portion of the sentence after release.  Like parolees, individuals on probation are monitored, often by a probation officer (although they may be styled a “parole officer”) and are expected to follow specific conditions.  Probation is in many cases the preferred sentencing option for first offenders, those convicted of less serious offences and those for whom a custodial sentence (with all its implications) would probably be counter-productive.  It has the advantage also of reducing overcrowding in prisons and is certainly cheaper for the state than incarceration.  Those who violate the terms of their probation face consequences such as an extended probation or being sent to jail.  The word “parole” in this context was very much a thing of US English until the post-war years when it spread first to the UK and later elsewhere in the English-speaking world.

Langue & parole

In structural linguistics, the terms “langue” & “parole” were introduced by the groundbreaking Swiss semiotician Ferdinand de Saussure (1857-1913) and remain two of the fundamental concepts in the framework of structuralism and are treated as important building blocks in what subsequently was developed as the science of human speech.  Within the profession, “langue” & “parole” continue to be regarded as “French words” because the sense in that language better describes things than the English translations (“language” & “speech” respectively) which are “approximate but inadequate”.  Langue denotes the system (or totality) of language shared by the “collective consciousness” so it encompasses all elements of a language as well as the rules & conventions for their combination (grammar, spelling, syntax etc).  Parole is the use individuals make of the resources of language, which the system produces and combines in speech, writing or other means of transmission.  As de Saussure explained it, the conjunction and interaction of the two create an “antinomy of the social and shared”, a further antinomy implied in the idea that langae is abstract and parole is concrete.

The construct of the noun antinomy was a learned borrowing from the Latin antinom(ia) + the English suffix “-y” (used to form abstract nouns denoting a condition, quality, or state).  The Latin antinomia was from the Ancient Greek ἀντινομία (antinomía), the construct being ἀντι- (anti- (the prefix meaning “against”), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European hent- (face; forehead; front)) + νόμος (nómos) (custom, usage; law, ordinance) from  νέμω (némō) (to deal out, dispense, distribute), from the primitive Indo-European nem- (to distribute; to give; to take))  + -ῐ́ᾱ (-íā) (the suffix forming feminine abstract nouns).  The English word is best understood as anti- (in the sense of “against”) +‎ -nomy (the suffix indicating a system of laws, rules, or knowledge about a body of a particular field).  In law, it was once used to describe “a contradiction within a law, or between different laws or a contradiction between authorities” (a now archaic use) but by extension it has come to be used in philosophy, political science and linguistics to describe “any contradiction or paradox”.  A sophisticated deconstruction of the concept was provided by the German German philosopher Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) who in Kritik der reinen Vernunft (Critique of Pure Reason (1781)) explained that apparent contradictions between valid conclusions (a paradox) could be resolved once it was understood the two positions came from distinct and exclusive sets, meaning no paradox existed, the perception of one merely the inappropriate application of an idea from one set to another.

So langue is what people use when thinking and conceptualizing (abstract) while parole what they use in speaking or writing (concrete), Saussure’s evaluative distinction explained as “The proper object of linguistic study is the system which underlies any particular human signifying human practice, not the individual utterance.” and the implication of that was that langue is of more importance than parole.  In the English-speaking world, it was the work of US Professor Noam Chomsky (b 1928) which made the concept of langue & parole well-known through his use of the more accessible terms “competence” & “performance”.  Chomsky’s latter day role as a public intellectual (though a barely broadcasted one in his home country) commenting on matters such as US foreign policy or the contradictions of capitalism has meant his early career in linguistics is often neglected by those not in the profession (the highly technical nature of the stuff does mean it’s difficult for most to understand) but his early work truly was revolutionary.

Noam Chomsky agitprop by Shepard Fairey (b 1970) on Artsy.

Chomsky used “competence” to refer to a speaker's implicit knowledge of the rules and principles of a language, something which permits them to understand and generate grammatically correct sentences which can be understood by those with a shared competence.  Competence is the idealized, internalized system of linguistic rules that underlies a speaker's ability to produce and comprehend language. It reflects one’s mental grammar, independent of external factors like memory limitations or social context.  Performance refers to the actual use of language IRL (in real life), influenced by psychological and physical factors such as memory, attention, fatigue, and social context.  Performance includes the errors, hesitations, and corrections that occur in everyday speech and Chomsky made the important point these do not of necessity reveal lack of competence.  Indeed, understood as “disfluencies”, (the “ums & ahs” et al) these linguistic phenomenon turned out to be elements it was essential to interpolate into the “natural language” models used to train AI (artificial intelligence) (ro)bots to create genuinely plausible “human analogues”.  Chomsky argued competence should be the primary domain of inquiry for theoretical linguistics and he focused on these abstract, universal principles in his early work which provoked debates which continue to this day.  Performance, subject to errors, variability and influenced by non-linguistic factors, he declared better studied by those in fields like sociolinguistics and psycholinguistics.

Undecennial

Undecennial (pronounced uhn-duh-seh-nee-uhl)

(1) Occurring or observed every eleventh year.

(2) As “undecennial magnetic period”, the Sun’s solar cycle.

1858: The construct was undec-, (from the Latin undecim, (eleven), the construct being unus (one) + decem (ten)) + -ennial.  The -ennial suffix was from the Latin -enniālis, the construct being annus (year (and figuratively “time, season, epoch”)) + -ium (the suffix used to form abstract nouns) + -ālis (suffixed to nouns or numerals creating adjectives of relationship).  It was a combining form denoting years.  The Latin undecentesimus was from ūndēcentum (ninety-nine; 99).  In Roman numerals, 99 was written as XCIX, the construct of which was XC (90: 100 minus 10) + IX (9: 10 minus 1) thus XC (90) plus IX (9) equals XCIX (99).  The fear of the number 11 is described as hendecaphobia.  The alternative adjective (and non-standard noun) is undecennary (once every eleven years) and the adjective in Portuguese is undecenal.  Undecennial & undecennary are adjectives and a (non-standard) noun; the noun plural is undecennials.

Centennial (every hundred years; commemoration of an event that happened a hundred years earlier) is the best known of the words suffixed with “-ennial” but there are fun constructs with meanings not immediately obvious including demisesquicentennial (75 years), the construct being demi- (half-of) +‎ sesqui- (one-and-a-half) +‎ centennial (of 100 years) and quadranscentennial (twenty-fifth anniversary (now often called “silver jubilee)), the construct being quad, from the Latin quadrans (quarter) + -ennium (a variant of annus) + -ālis (the “quad” thus a reference to the four 25 year quarter-centuries in a century).  Unfortunately, sexennial (pertaining to a period of six years; taking place once every six years) (the construct being sexennium (a period of six years) + -al) means just a “six year period or cycle” although in August 2024, in Boston Massachusetts there was the Sexennial: A Sex-Positive Variety Show.

In modern use, there’s also been some re-purposing.  The first use of “postmillennial” was to describe the world after the year 1000 and it has been used of things Pos-2000 but it was also adopted in the nineteenth century by certain Christian sects to describe the doctrine the Second Coming of Christ will take place after the millennium; the antonym was premillennial (pertaining to the belief the Second Coming will take place before the millennium.).  In the 21^st century, it’s used also of “Generation Z”, the one following the “Millennial Generation”.  Premillennial seems not to be used in this context (that would be the (Baby) Boomers).  The construct of the adjective perennial was the Latin perenn(is) (lasting through the whole year or for several years, perennial; continual, everlasting, perpetual”) + the English -al (the adjective-forming suffix imparting the meaning “of or pertaining to”.  It’s familiar from its use in botany where it describes plants active throughout the year, or having a life cycle of more than two growing seasons (and thus used sometimes in the sense of “appearing again each year; annual”) but is used also (sometime loosely) of waterways and such.  In figurative use, “perennial” is used widely (and loosely) of just about anything (art, music, politics et al) with the quality of or tending to “continuing without cessation or intermission for several years, or for an undetermined or infinite period; never-ending or never failing; perpetual, unceasing”.

Images from NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory highlight the appearance of the Sun at solar minimum (December 2019, left) versus solar maximum (May 2024, right).  These images are in the 171-angstrom wavelength of extreme ultraviolet light, which reveals the active regions on the Sun that are more common during solar maximum.

The Sun’s 11-year cycle was first detected in 1843 by German apothecary & amateur astronomer Heinrich Schwabe (1789–1875). Schwabe noticed a pattern in the number of sunspots that appeared on the Sun's surface over time.  In 1825 Herr Schwabe obtained his first telescope and between then and 1867 (on every day the skies were clear) he recorded the size & shape of sunspots and it was in 1838 he first suspected the phenomenon might be cyclical, his initial findings suggesting a ten-year cycle.  The discovery was wholly serendipitous because he wasn’t interested in sunspots (then thought random events) but was one of a number of astronomers searching for “Vulcan” a speculative planet in an orbit between Mercury which theories suggested should exist because its presence would account for the otherwise inexplicable peculiarities in Mercury's orbital path.  As a theory, the science was sound because earlier the same math had been used correctly to predict the existence of Neptune, based on calculation which determined the gravitational influence required to explain disturbances in the orbit of Uranus.  Over the decades, sightings of Vulcan had been reported but all quickly were discounted and the search continued until Albert Einstein’s (1879-1955) theory of general relativity (1915) was confirmed and Mercury's variation from the orbit predicted by Newtonian physics was understood to be a manifestation of the curvature of space-time induced by the mass of the Sun.

Because of Vulcan’s predicted proximity to the Sun, it would have been very difficult to observe with the telescopes of the nineteenth century, the only plausible method being to view it during its transit in front of the Sun.  The reason Herr Schwabe kept notebooks with almost daily sketches of the Sun and its spots was that he wanted to ensure he would never confuse a spot with the passing Vulcan and mush have be surprised when he noticed the suggesting of a cyclical pattern.  In 1843 he published his initial findings which indicated sunspot activity appeared to peak every ten-odd years and which his paper attracted little interest, it did inspire a Swiss professional astronomer to begin his own regular observations and these, combined with Herr Schwabe’s earlier drawings confirmed the sun’s undecennial pattern.  The use in 1858 of “undecennial” to describe the solar cycle seems to have been the first use of the word in English.

Visible light images from NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory highlight the appearance of the Sun at solar minimum (Dec 2019, left) versus solar maximum (May 2024, right). During solar minimum, often the Sun is "spotless".

The Sun's eleven-year cycle (the solar cycle) is driven almost wholly by changes in the body’s magnetic field dynamics.  The Sun’s magnetic field isn’t as stable as that of Earth which, although subject to some ongoing movement, retains its essential polarity for at least hundreds of thousands of years.  Deep within the Sun there exists a layer called the convection zone (where hot plasma rises, cools, and sinks) and these interactions, over time, cause the Sun’s magnetic field lines to twist and tangle.  Things are influenced also by differential rotation, the Sun rotating faster at its equator than at its poles (the equatorial regions taking some 25 days to complete a rotation, the polar regions around 35.  What this does is “stretches and wind up” the magnetic field lines, resulting in what astronomers describe as “a twisted, complex magnetic environment”.  All this combines to produce the “solar maximum & minimum”: Every eleven years the “twisted & tangled” magnetic field lines stretch to the point where suddenly they “snap”, creating a realigning process in which they are “straightened out”.  During solar maximum, the Sun has many sunspots (regions of intense magnetic activity), solar flares, and coronal mass ejections.  When the cycle resets to solar minimum, these activities reduce as the Sun's magnetic field temporarily stabilizes.  The other obvious effect of the undecennial magnetic period is the periodic polarity flip:  Every 11 years, the Sun’s magnetic poles reverse, north becoming south and vice-versa, something which happens on earth every few hundred-thousand years.

Quantum Tech Club's chart of the solar cycle: This cycle of low-high-low sun activity operates on a cycle of about eleven years though there are always variations, the length of each cycle not exact and the volume of activity also varies.  The previous Solar Cycle (24) was classified "not particularly active" and the current cycle (25) was predicted to be similar but it turned out to be more vibrant.  So, while the numbers bounce around, the undecennial pattern remains constant. 

For cultural reasons, an eleven year cycle sounds somehow strange to us and we’re unaccustomed to such things being associated with prime numbers although in entomology there are insects with no aversion to primes.  In entymology, there are insects with no fear of the number 17.  In the US, the so-called “periodical cicadas” (like those of the genus Magicicada) exist in a 17 year life cycle, something thought to confer a number of evolutionary advantages, all tied directly to the unique timing of their mass emergence: (1) The predator satiation strategy: The creatures emerge in massive numbers (in the billions), their sheer volume meaning it’s physically impossible for predators (both small mammals & birds) to eat enough of them to threaten the survival of the species. (2) Prime number cycles: Insects are presumed to be unaware of the nature of prime numbers but 17 is a prime number and there are also periodic cicadas with a 13 year cycle.  The 13 (Brood XIX) & 17-year (Brood X) periodic cicadas do sometimes emerge in the same season but, being prime numbers, it’s a rare event, the numbers' least common multiple (LCM) being 221 years; the last time the two cicadas emerged together was in 1868 and the next such even is thus expected in 2089.  The infrequency in overlap helps maintain the effectiveness of the predator avoidance strategies, the predators typically having shorter (2-year, 5-year etc) cycles which don’t synchronize with the cicadas' emergence, reducing chances a predator will evolve to specialize in feeding on periodical cicadas. (3) Avoidance of Climate Variability: By remaining underground for 17 years, historically, periodical cicadas avoided frequent climate changes or short-term ecological disasters like droughts or forest fires. The long underground nymph stage also allows them to feed consistently over many years and emerge when the environment is more favorable for reproduction.  Etymologists and biological statisticians are modelling scenarios under which various types of accelerated climate change are being studied to try to understand how the periodic cicadas (which evolved under “natural” climate change) may be affected. (4) Genetic Isolation: Historically, the unusually extended period between emergences has isolated different broods of cicadas, reducing interbreeding and promoting genetic diversity over time, helping to maintain healthy populations over multiple life-cycles.

Lohanic undecenniality: Lindsay Lohan at eleven year intervals: 2002 (left), 2013 (centre) and 2024 (right).

A “year” as defined (one orbit of our world around the sun) on Earth is a standard measure and on this planet it makes complete sense but in other places (such as the Sun) it’s just an abstraction although we map “years” onto many remote places, vast distances best understood as expressed in “light years” although cosmologists for many purposes prefer the parsec (a unit of astronomical length, based on the distance from Earth at which a star would have a parallax of one second of arc which is equivalent to 206,265 times the distance from the earth to the sun or 3.26 light-years.  Its lineal equivalent is about 19.1 trillion miles (30.8 trillion km)).  It takes Pluto 248 Earth years to make its orbit of the Sun so that’s the length of one Plutoian year, meaning that between being discovered in 1930 and the humorous cosmic clerks at the International Astronomical Union (IAU) in 2006 voting re-classify Pluto as a dwarf planet (on the basis that the icy orb failed to meet a set of criteria which the IAU claimed had been accepted for decades), not even on year had there passed.

So it’s only on Earth one of our “years” is of direct relevance and we tend to measure anniversaries with the numbers we prefer (1, 2, 5, 10, 20, 25, 50. 100, 250, 500, 1000, 10,000 etc) (21 is a special case) but this meaning nothing to the physics of the Sun and even here there have been cultures in which some things have tended to the undecennial.  In India, the Kumbh Mela (or Kumbha Mela) is one of the great pilgrimage festivals in Hinduism (the pre-Covid gathering in 2019 said to be the largest (peaceful) assembly of people ever known) and although it is celebrated in what tends to be a twelve year cycle, because of the complexity and regional distribution of some celebrations, there have been times when things have happened at an eleven year interval.  Among the indigenous peoples of North America (notably the Hopi), there were also reports from anthropologists of ceremonial cycles based on natural and astronomical cycles that can approximate an eleven year pattern due to environmental changes or social cycles, although it doesn’t appear the intervals ever assumed a precise, recurrent eleven-year pattern.  Certain ceremonies were linked with observations of the sun (and other celestial bodies), aligning closely with solar maximums in some cases.

Lettrism

Lettrism (pronounced let-riz-uhm)

A French avant-garde art and literary movement established in 1946 and inspired, inter alia, by Dada and surrealism.  The coordinate term is situationism.

1946: From French lettrisme, a variant of lettre (letter).  Letter dates from the late twelfth century and was from the From Middle English letter & lettre, from the Old French letre, from the Latin littera (letter of the alphabet (in plural); epistle; literary work), from the Etruscan, from the Ancient Greek διφθέρᾱ (diphthérā) (tablet) (and related to diphtheria).  The form displaced the Old English bōcstæf (literally “book staff” in the sense of “the alphabet’s symbols) and ǣrendġewrit (literally “message writing” in the sense of “a written communication longer than a “note” (ie, something like the modern understanding of “a letter”)).  The –ism suffix was from the Ancient Greek ισμός (ismós) & -isma noun suffixes, often directly, sometimes through the Latin –ismus & isma (from where English picked up ize) and sometimes through the French –isme or the German –ismus, all ultimately from the Ancient Greek (where it tended more specifically to express a finished act or thing done).  It appeared in loanwords from Greek, where it was used to form abstract nouns of action, state, condition or doctrine from verbs and on this model, was used as a productive suffix in the formation of nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition, principles, doctrines, a usage or characteristic, devotion or adherence (criticism; barbarism; Darwinism; despotism; plagiarism; realism; witticism etc).  Letterism is listed by some sources as an alternative spelling but in literary theory it used in a different sense.  Lettrism and lettrist are nouns; the noun plural is letterists.

Letter from letterist Lindsay Lohan (2003).

A Lettrist was (1) one who practiced Lettrism or (2) a supporter or advocate of Lettrism.  Confusingly, in the English-speaking world, the spelling Letterist has been used in this context, presumably because it’s a homophone (if pronounced in the “correct (U)” way) and the word is “available” because although one who keeps as diary is a “diarist”, even the most prolific of inveterate letter writers are not called “letterists”.  The preferred term for a letter-writer is correspondent, especially for those who writes letters regularly or in an official capacity.  The Letterist International (LI) was a Paris-based collective of radical artists and cultural theorists which existed 1952-1957 before forming the Situationist International (SI), a trans-European, unstructured collective of artists and political thinkers which eventually became more a concept than a movement.  Influenced by the criticism that philosophy had tended increasingly to fail at the moment of its actualization, the SI, although it assumed the inevitability of social revolution, always maintained many (cross-cutting) strands of expectations of the form(s) this might take.  Indeed, just as a world-revolution did not follow the Russian revolutions of 1917, the events of May, 1968 failed to realize the predicted implications; the SI can be said then to have died.  The SI’s discursive output between 1968 and 1972 may be treated either as a lifeless aftermath to an anti-climax or a bunch of bitter intellectuals serving as mourners at their own protracted funeral.  In literary theory, while “Lettrism” has a defined historical meaning, the use of “letterism” is vague and not a recognized term although it has informally been used (often with some degree of irony) of practices emphasizing the use of letters or alphabetic symbols in art or literature and given the prevalence of text of a symbolic analogue in art since the early twentieth century, it seem surprising “letterism” isn’t more used in criticism.  That is of course an Anglo-centric view of things because the French Lettrists themselves are said to prefer the spelling “Letterism”.

Jacques Derrida deconstructing some tobacco.

The French literary movement Lettrism was founded in Paris in 1946 and the two most influential figures in the early years were the Romanian-born French poet, film maker and political theorist Isidore Isou (1925–2007) and his long-term henchman, the French poet, & writer Maurice Lemaître (1926-2018).  Western Europe was awash with avant-garde movements in the early post-war years but what distinguished Lettrism was its focus on breaking down (deconstruction was not yet a term used in this sense) traditional language and meaning by emphasizing the materiality of letters and sounds rather than conventionally-assembled words.  Scholars of linguistics and the typographic community had of course long made a study of letters, their form, variation and origin, but in Lettrism it was less about the letters as objects than the act of dismantling the structures of language letters created, the goal being the identification (debatably the creation) of new forms of meaning through pure sound, visual abstraction and the aesthetic form of letters.  Although influenced most by Dada and surrealism, the effect the techniques of political propaganda used during the 1930s & 1940s was noted by the Lettrists and their core tenent was an understanding of the letter itself as the fundamental building block of art and literature.  Often they would break down language into letters or phonetic sounds, assessing and deploying them for their aesthetic or auditory qualities rather than their conventional meaning(s).  In that sense the Lettrists can be seen as something as precursor of post-modernism’s later “everything is text” orthodoxy although that too has an interesting origin.  The French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930-2004) made famous the phrase “Il n'y a pas de hors-texte” which often is translated as something like “there is no meaning beyond the text” but “hors-texte” (outside the text) was printers’ jargon for those parts of a book without regular page numbers (blank pages, copyright page, table of contents et al) and Derrida’s point actually was the hors-texte must be regardes as a part of the text.  There was much intellectual opportunism in post modernism and for their own purposes it suited may to assert what Derrida said was “There is nothing outside the text” and what he meant was “everything is part of a (fictional) text and nothing is real” whereas his point was it’s not possible to create a rule rigidly which delineates what is “the text” and what is “an appendage to the text”.  Troublingly for some post modernists, Derrida did proceed on a case-by-case basis although he seems not to have explained how the meaning of the text in an edition of a book with an appended "This page is intentionally left blank" page might differ from one with no such page although it may be some earnest student of post-modernism has written an essay convincingly exactly that.

The Lettrism project was very much a rejection of traditional language structures and the meanings they denoted; it was a didactic endeavor, the Lettrists claiming not only had they transcended conventional grammar & syntax but they could obviate even a need for meaning in words, their work a deliberate challenge to their audiences to rethink how language functions.  As might be imagined, their output was “experimental” and in addition to some takes on the ancient form of “pattern poetry” included what they styled “concrete poetry” & “phonetic poetry”, visual art and performance pieces which relied on abstraction, the most enduring of which was the “hypergraphic”, an object sometimes describe as “picture writing” which combined letters, symbols, and images, blending visual and textual elements into a single art form, often as collages or as graphic-like presentations on canvas or paper.  This wasn’t a wholly new concept but the lettrists vested it with new layers of meaning which, at least briefly, intrigued many although it was dismissed also as “visual gimmickry” or that worst of insults in the avant-garde: “derivative”.  Despite being one of the many footnotes in the history of modern art, Lettrism never went away and in a range of artistic fields, even today there are those who style themselves “lettrists” and the visual clues of the movement’s influence are all around us.

Chrysler’s letterism: The Chrysler 300 “letter series” 1955-1965.

The “letter series” Chrysler 300s were produced in limited numbers in the US between 1955-1965; technically, they were the high-performance version of the luxury Chrysler New Yorker and the first in 1955 was labeled C-300, an allusion to the 300 horsepower (HP) (220 kW) 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) Hemi V8, then the most powerful engine offered in a production car.  The C-300 was well received and when an updated version was released in 1956, it was dubbed 300B, the annual releases appending the next letter in the alphabet as a suffix although in 1963 “I” was skipped when the 300H was replaced by the 300J, the rationale being it might be confused with a “1” (ie the numeral “one”), the same reasoning explaining why there are so few “I cup” bras, some manufacturers filling the gap in the market between “H cup” & “J cup” with a “HH cup” but there’s no evidence the corporation’s concerns ever prompted them to ponder a “300HH”.  Retrospectively thus, the 1955 C-300 is often described as the 300A although this was never an official factory designation.  While in the narrow technical sense not a part of the “muscle car” lineage (defined by the notion of putting a “big” car’s “big” engine into a smaller, lighter model), the letter series cars were an important part of the “power race” of the 1950s and an evolutionary step in what would emerge in 1964 as the muscle car branch and the most plausible LCA (last common ancestor) of both was the Buick Century (1936-1942).  The letter series was retired after 1965 because the market preference for high-performance car had shifted to the smaller, lighter, pony cars & intermediates (neither of which existed in the early years of the 300) though the “non letter series” 300s (introduced in 1962) continued until 1971 with a toned-down emphasis on speed and a shift to style.

1955 Chrysler C-300 (300A).

The 1955 C-300 typified Detroit’s “mix & match” approach to the parts bin in that it conjured something “new” at relatively low cost, combining the corporation’s most powerful Hemi V8 with the New Yorker Series (C-68) platform, the visual differentiation achieved by using the front bodywork (the “front clip” in industry jargon) from the top-of-the-range Imperial.  The justification for the existence of the thing was to fulfill the homologation requirements of NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) that a certain number of various components be sold to the public before a car could be defined as a “production” car (ie a “stock” car, a term which shamelessly would be prostituted in the years to come) and used in sanctioned competition.  Accordingly, the C-300 was configured with the 331 cubic inch Hemi V8 fitted, with dual four barrel carburetors, solid valve lifters and a high-lift camshaft profiled for greater top-end power.  Better to handle the increased power, stiffer front and rear suspension was used and it was very much in the tradition of the big, powerful grand-touring cars of the 1930s such as the Duesenberg SJ, something that with little modification could be competitive on the track.  Very successful in NASCAR racing, the C-300 also set a number of speed records in timed trials but it was very much a niche product; despite the price not being excessive for what one got, only 1,725 were made but for an expensive car which even Chrysler's engineers admitted "had a ride like a truck" due to the stiff suspension, it was encouragement enough to schedule a 300B for the 1956 season.

1956 Chrysler 300B (left) and Highway Hi-Fi phonograph player (right).

The 300B used a updated version of the C-300s body so visually the two were similar although, ominously, the tailfins did reach a little higher.  The big news however lay under the hood (bonnet) with the Hemi V8 enlarged to 354 cubic inches (5.8 litres) and available either with 340 (HP) (254 kW) or in a high- compression version generating 355 (365), the first time a US-built automobile was advertised as producing greater than one HP per cubic inch of displacement.  It was a sign of the times; other manufacturers took note.  The added power meant a top speed of around 140 mph (225 km/h) could be attained, something now to ponder given the retardative qualities of the braking system but also of note was the season's much talked-about option: the "Highway Hi-Fi" phonograph player which allowed vinyl LP records to be played when the car was on the move; the sound quality was remarkably good but on less than smooth surfaces, experiences were mixed.  Success on the track continued, the 300B wining the Daytona Flying Mile with a new record of 139.373 MPH, and it again dominated NASCAR, repeating the C-300’s Grand National Championship.  Despite that illustrious record, only 1,102 were sold.

1955 Chrysler C-300 (top left), 1970 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 Coupé (top right), Rover 3.5 Coupé (bottom left) and Rover 3.5 Saloon (bottom right).

On sale only in 1955-1956, the restrained lines of Chrysler’s elegant “Forward Look” range didn’t last long in the US as extravagance overtook Detroit but the influence endured longer in Europe, both the Mercedes-Benz W111 (1961-1971) & W112 Coupé (1962-1967) and the Rover P5 (1958-1967) & P5B (1967-1973) interpreting the shape.  The Rover was a tale of two rooflines: the “Establishment” Saloon and the rakish Coupé.

1957 Chrysler 300C.

The 1955-1956 Chryslers had a balance and elegance of line which could have remained a template for the industry but there were other possibilities and these Detroit choose to pursue, creating a memorable era of extravagance but one which proved a stylistic cul-de-sac.  The 1957 300C undeniably was dramatic and featured many of the motifs so associated with the US automobile of the late 1950s including the now (mostly) lawful quad-headlights, the panoramic “Vista-Dome” windshield, lashings of chrome and, of course, those tailfins.  The Hemi V8 was again enlarged, now in a “tall deck” version out to 392 cubic inches (6.4 litres) rated at 375 HP (280 kW) and for the first time a convertible version was available.  By now the power race was being run in earnest with General Motors (GM) offering fuel-injected engines and Mercury solving the problem in the traditional American (there’s no replacement for displacement) way by releasing a 430 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 although it was so big and heavy it made the bulky Hemi seem something of a lightweight; the 430 did however briefly find a niche in in power-boat racing.  For 300C owners who wanted more there was also a high-compression version with more radical valve timing rated at 390 HP (290 kW) and this was for the first time able to be ordered with a three-speed manual transmission.  Few apparently felt the need for more and of the 2,402 300Cs sold (1,918 coupes & 484 convertibles), only 18 were ordered in high-compression form.

1958 Chrysler 300D.

Again using the Hemi 392, now tuned for a standard 380 HP (280 kW), there was for the first time the novelty of the optional Bendix “Electrojector” fuel injection, which raised output to a nominal 390 HP (290 kW) although its real benefit was the consistency of fuel delivery, overcoming the starvation encountered sometimes under extreme lateral load.  Unfortunately, the analogue electronics of the era proved unequal to the task and the unreliability was both chronic and insoluble, thus almost all the 21 fuel-injected cars were retro-fitted with the stock dual-quad induction system and it’s believed only one 300D retains its original Bendix plumbing.  Also rare was the take-up rate for the manual transmission option and interestingly, both the two known 300Ds so equipped were ordered originally with carburetors rather than fuel injection.  The engineers also secured one victory over the stylists.  After testing on the proving grounds determined the distinctive, forward jutting “eyebrow” header atop the windscreen reduced top speed by 5 mph (8 km/h), they managed to convince management to authorize an expensive change to the tooling, standardizing the convertible’s compound-curved type “bubble windshield”, a then rare triumph of function over fashion.  Although the emphasis of the letter series cars was shifting from the track to the roads, the things genuinely still were fast and one (slightly modified) 300D was set a new class record of 156.387 mph (251.681 km/h) on the Bonneville Salt Flats.  Production declined to 810 units (619 coupes & 191 convertibles).

1959 Chrysler 300E.

With the coming of the 1959 range, the Hemi was retired and replaced by a new 413 cubic inch (6.8 litre) V8 with wedge-shaped combustion chambers.  Lighter by some 100 lb (45 kg) and cheaper to produce than the Hemi with its demanding machining requirements and intricate valve train, the additional displacement allowed power output to be maintained at 380 HP (280 kW) while torque (something more significant for what most drivers on the street do most of the time actually increased).  The manual transmission option was also deleted with no market resistance and despite the lower production costs, the price tag rose, something probably more of a factor in the declining sales than the loss of the much vaunted Hemi and, like the 300D (and most of the rest of the industry) the year before, the economy was suffering in the relatively brief but sharp recession and Chrysler probably did well to shift 390 units (550 coupes & 140 convertibles).

1960 Chrysler 300F (left) and 300F engine with Sonoramic intake in red (right).

Although the rococo styling cues remained, underneath now lay radical modernity, the corporation’s entire range (except for exclusive Imperial line) switching from ladder frame to unitary construction.  The stylists however indulged themselves with more external flourishes, allowing the tailfins an outward canter, culminating sharply in a point and housing boomerang-shaped taillights.  Even the critics of such things found it a pleasing look although they were less impressed by the faux spare tire cover (complete with an emulated wheel cover!) on the trunk (boot), dubbing it the “toilet seat”.  The interior though was memorable with four individual bucket in leather with a center console between extending the cockpit’s entire length and there was also Chrysler’s intriguing electroluminescent instrument display which, rather than being lit with bulbs, exploited a phenomenon in which a material emits light in response to an electric field; the ethereal glow was much admired.  Buyers in 1959 may have felt regret in not seeing a Hemi in the engine bay, but after lifting the hood of a 300F they wouldn’t have been disappointed because, in designer colors (gold, silver, blue & red) sat the charismatic “Sonoramic” intake manifold, a “cross-ram” system which placed the carburetors at the sides of engine, connected by long tubular runners.  What the physics of this did was provide a short duration “supercharging” effect, tuned for the mid-range torque most used when overtaking at freeway speeds.  Also built were a handful of “short ram” Sonoramics which had the tubes (actually with the same length) re-tuned to deliver top-end power rather than mid-range torque.  Rated at a nominal 400 (300 kW) HP, these could be fitted also with the French-built Pont-a-Mousson 4-speed manual transmission used in the Chrysler V8-powered Facel Vega and existed only for the purpose of setting records, six 300Fs so equipped showing up at the 1960 Dayton Speed Week where they took the top six places in the event’s signature Flying Mile, crossing the traps at between 141.5-144.9 mph (227.7-233.3 km/h).  The market responded and sales rose to 1217 (969 & 248 convertibles) and the 300F (especially those with the “short ram” Sonoramics) is the most collectable of the letter series.

1961 Chrysler 300G.

The 300G gained canted headlights, another of those styling fads of the 1950s & 1960s which quickly became passé but now seem a charming period piece.  There was the usual myriad of detail changes the industry in those days dreamed up each season, usually for no better reason that to be “different” from last year’s model and thus be able to offer something “new”.  As well as the slanted headlights, the fins became sharper still and taillights were moved.  Mechanically, the specification substantially was unaltered, the Sonoramic plumbing carried over although the expensive, imported Pont-a-Mousson transmission was removed from the option list, replaced by Chrysler’s own heavy-duty 3-speed manual unit, the demand for which was predictably low.  The lack of a fourth cog didn’t impede the 300G’s performance in that year’s Daytona Flying Mile where one would again take the title with a mark of 143 mph (230.1 km/h) and to prove the point a stock standard model won the one mile acceleration title.  People must have liked the headlights because production reached 1617 units (1,280 coupes & 337 convertibles).

1962 Chrysler 300H.

Perhaps a season or two too late, Chrysler “de-finned” its whole range, prompting their designer (Virgil Exner (1909–1973)) to lament his creations now resembled “plucked chickens”.  For 1962 the 300 name also lost some of its exclusivity with the addition to the range of the 300 Sport series (offered also with four-door bodywork) and to muddy the waters further, much of what was fitted to the 300H could be ordered as an option on the basic 300 so externally, but for the distinctive badge, there was visually little to separate the two.  Mechanically, the “de-contenting” which the accountants had begun to impose as the industry chase higher profits (short-term strategies to increase “shareholder value” are nothing new) was felt as the Sonoramic induction system moved to the 300H’s option list with the inline dual 4-barrel carburetor setup last seen on the 300E now standard.  With the in-line carburetors, the 413 was rated at 380 HP; this rose to 405 when the Sonoramic option was chosen.  Because of weight savings gained by the adoption of a shorter wheelbase platform, the specific performance numbers of 300H actually slightly shaded its predecessor but the cannibalizing of the 300 name and the public perception the thing’s place in the hierarchy was no longer so exalted saw sales decline to 570 (435 coupes & 135 convertibles), the worst year to date.  The magic of the 300 name however seemed to work because Chrysler in the four available body styles (2 door convertible, 2 & 4 door hardtop & 4 door sedan) sold 25,578 of the 300 Sport series, exceeding expectations.  Since 1962, the verbal shorthand to distinguished between the ranges has been “letter series” and “non letter series” cars.

1963 Chrysler 300J.

Presumably in an attempt to atone for past sins, a spirit of rectilinearism washed through Chrysler’s design office while the 1963 range was being prepared and it would persist until the decade’s end when new sins would be committed.  Unrelated to that was the decision to skip a 300I because of concerns it might be read as the wholly numeric 3001.  The de-contenting (now an industry trend) continued with the swivel feature for the front bucket seats deleted while full-length centre console was truncated at the front compartment with the rear seat now a less eye-catching bench.  The 413 V8 was offered in a single configuration but the Sonoramics were again standard and the three-speed manual transmission remained optional, seven buyers actually ticking the box. The 300J was still a fast car, capable of a verified 142 mph (229 km/h) although the weight and gearing conspired against acceleration but a standing quarter mile (400 m) ET (elapsed time) of 15.8 was among the quickest of the cars in its class.  Still, it did seem the end of the series might be nigh with the convertible no longer offered and the sales performance reflected the feeling, only 400 coupes leaving the showrooms.

The BUFF: The new version of the Boeing B-52 Stratofortress (replacing the B-52H) will be the B-52J, not B-52I or B-52HH.   

Like Chrysler and most bra manufacturers, the US Air Force also opted to skip “I” when allocating a designation for the updated version of the Boeing B-52 Stratofortress (1952-1962 and still in service).  Between the first test flight of the B-52A in 1954 and the B-52H entering service in 1962, the designations B-52B, B-52C, B-52D, B-52E, B-52F & B-52G sequentially had been used but after flirting with whether to use B52J as an interim designation (reflecting the installation of enhanced electronic warfare systems) before finalizing the series as the B-52K after new engines were fitted, in 2024 the USAF announced the new line would be the B-52J and only a temporary internal code would distinguish those not yet re-powered.  Again, the “I” was not used so nobody would think there was a B521.  Although the avionics, digital displays and ability to carry Hypersonic Attack Cruise Missile (HACM, a scramjet-powered weapon capable exceeding Mach 5) are the most significant changes for the B-52J, visually, it will be the replacement of the old Pratt & Whitney TF33 engines with new Rolls-Royce F130 units which will be most obvious, the F130 promising improvements in fuel efficiency of some 30% as well as reduction in noise and exhaust emissions.  Already in service for 70 years, apparently no retirement date for the B-52 has yet been pencilled-in.  In USAF (US Air Force) slang, the B-52 is the BUFF (the acronym for big ugly fat fellow or big ugly fat fucker depending on who is asking).  From BUFF was derived the companion acronym for the LTV A-7 Corsair II (1965-1984, the last in active service retired in 2014) which was SLUFF (Short Little Ugly Fat Fellow or Short Little Ugly Fat Fucker).

1964 Chrysler 300K.

Selling in 1963 only 400 examples of what was intended as one of the corporations “halo” cars triggered management to engage in what Americans had come to call an “agonizing reappraisal”.  The conclusion drawn was the easiest way to stimulate demand was to lower the basic entry price to ownership of the name and if buyers really wanted the fancy stuff once fitted as standard, they could order it from an option list; it was essentially the same approach as used for most of Chrysler’s other ranges.  That was made possible by the use of main-frame computers in a system which translated (1) the boxes (ticked in ink) on a dealer's order form, (2) via the fingers of a data-entry clerk (the trade an early victim of what would evolve into AI (artificial intelligence)) onto, (3) a punch card which would send, (4) the structured data to a dot-matrix printer which would generate, (5) a "build-sheet".  It was each car's build-sheet which listed all its options and from this it was configured as it moved along the production-line.  Accordingly, in this brave new world, leather trim and many power accessories joined air-conditioning in being consigned to the option list.  The system worked but that success ultimately was the cause of its demise.  As well as generating individual build sheets, once aggregated, all this information formed a big "data set" which meant there could be "data analysts" employed.  What these walking pocket calculators worked out was it was possible to predict much of what would be ticked on the dealers' order forms and it was thus more profitable to produce runs with certain "bundles" of options and sell it as a model line, the classic example of the 1970s & 1980s the many "executive" packages which included power-steering, automatic transmission and air-conditioning.    

The 300K's base engine was now fitted with a single four barrel carburetor although for an additional US$375, the dual-quad Sonoramic could be ordered and combined with Chrysler’s new, robust four-speed manual transmission.  Surprising some observers, the convertible coachwork made a return to the catalogue.  All that meant the 300K could be advertised for US$1000 less than the 300J and the market responded in a text book example of price elasticity of demand, production spiking to 3647 (3,022 coupes & 625 convertibles), 84 of which were fitted with the four speed manual gearbox (50 hard tops & 34 convertibles, the latter number higher than many might have expected).  Although the basic engineering remained sound, stylistically, the whole range suffered because the lines lacked the flair of what GM was offering .  

1965 Chrysler 300L (four speed manual).

Despite the stellar sales of the 300K, even before the release of the 300L, the decision had been taken it would be the last of the letter series.  The tastes of those who wanted high performance had shifted to the smaller, lighter pony cars and intermediates, neither segment envisaged when the C-300 had made its debut a decade earlier.  Additionally, the letter series had outlived its usefulness as a corporate image-maker now they were no longer the fastest in the fleet and production-line rationalization meant it was easier and more profitable to maintain a single 300 line and allow buyers to choose their own mix of options; in other words, after 1965, it would still be possible to create a 300 in the spirit of the letter cars in most aspects except the badge and the now departed Sonoramics of fond memory.  When the last 300L was produced it was configured with a single four barrel carburetor and few would have noticed the differences between it and most other 300s.  The lower price though continued to attract buyers and in its final year 2845 were sold (2,405 coupes & 440 convertibles) and a perhaps surprising 96 (or possibly 98) buyers opted for the four-speed manual but on the full-sized lines the configuration approaching extinction after a brief life; the 1970 Ford XL would be the last of such machines listed with the option.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).

There was an unexpected coda to the 300 letter series.  Although “surprise” is sometimes a tactic in marketing, what was strange about the release of the Chrysler 300-Hurst (introduced in February 1970 at the Chicago Auto Show) was it being a surprise to the dealers parking it in their showrooms.  Improbable as it sounds for a product released in the citadel of modern capitalism, the accepted orthodoxy is the management at Chrysler and Hurst both believed the other corporation would be handing the promotion so consequently, none was ever done.  Given the market dynamics of the time, it’s debatable whether advertising would much have stimulated demand for such a machine and as things worked out, only some 500 were built, the model never replaced.  In the era, there was little consistency in how the thing was discussed with publications variously using “300H”, “300 Hurst” and “Hurst 300” but the preferred use now seems to be “300-H” to distinguish it from the original 300H of 1962.  Based on the Chrysler 300 built on the corporate C-Body (with the so called “fuselage” coachwork introduced for the 1969 season) conceptually, the 300-H was very much in the letter-series tradition and featured the combination of a more powerful version of the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 (rated at 375 (gross) HP in a dual-exhaust configuration), the TorqueFlite (727) automatic transmission and the opulent leather interior from the Imperial line.  Although often listed as a footnote, purists decline to include the 300-H in the letter-series lineage.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).  The leather trim and power-adjustable seats came from the Imperial line.

All were finished in Spinnaker White with Satin Tan color accents & Medium Brown pin-striping, the H70–15 Goodyear Polyglas tyres mounted on 15 x 6-inch wheels in Saturn Iridescent paint.  Although the high (numerically low; the final-drive ratio a conservative 3.23) gearing was indicative of a machine was built for high-speed cruising on the freeways rather than ¼ mile runs along a drag-strip, there were a few visual clues borrowed from muscle car genre, each 300-H equipped with a fibreglass hood which included the then-fashionable “power bulge” in the centre and a rear-mounted fresh air intake although unlike the muscle cars, this fed cold air not to the engine but the passenger compartment.  The trunk lid (“rear-deck” in US terminology) was also a fibreglass piece which included an integrated spoiler (then referred to usually as an “airfoil”).  The fibreglass mouldings were fabricated by two different companies and although the hoods were well-engineered, the rear decks lacked the internal stiffening required by a panel of such size and over time proved prone to deformation, the warping most severe if sitting for any length of time in heat.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).

By 1970, the 300-H must have seemed anachronistic because the market for high-performance variants of full-sized cars had evaporated as buyer preferences switched to the smaller intermediates and pony cars, by then available with the biggest, most powerful power-plants in Detroit’s inventory.  GM had withdrawn from the segment and although Ford listed the option of a four-speed manual gearbox for big XLs with 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre), none were ever built while the 1969 Mercury Marauder X-100 (essentially a cosmetic package) was automatic-only and lasted only a single season.  Chrysler’s Plymouth division still offered the triple-carburetor 440 (rated in 1970 at a healthy 390 HP) in the big Sport Fury but only with an automatic and sales were low.  It’s worth remembering the original Chrysler 300 “letter cars” of 1955-1956 were essentially the same size as the intermediates of the mid 1960s which became so popular and were the platform which defined the “muscle car” during its brief and crazy vogue; the size was “right” in a US context and what the full-sized lines had grown to was not.  As the fuselage Chryslers came to exemplify, the huge, full-sizers would prove ideal as “land yachts” a breed particular to the 1970s in which occupants, isolated from the outside as never before (and rarely since) “floated” down the freeways, consuming fossil fuels and expelling pollutants in volumes which now would astonish most and appall Greta Thunberg (b 2003).

Hurst built one 300-H convertible, used as a promotional vehicle for their famous shifters, often accompanied by Ms Linda Vaughn (b 1943) who stood on a platform mounted atop the rear desk, between giant models of shifters.  Ms Vaughn was for more than two decades a welcome adornment to drag-strips, noted usually for noise and brutishness.

In 1970, Chrysler 300s tagged for conversion to 300-H specification came down the assembly line in the Jefferson Avenue plant in Detroit before being freighted to Hurst’s facility in Warminster, Pennsylvania to undergo a process which differed from the original plan: instead of deeper oil pans, upgraded ignition systems and the Hurst shifters which had made the company’s name, the cars received mostly cosmetic enhancements although the suspension was stiffened.  About the only difference in configuration was some used a column-shift for the transmission and some a floor-shit with a console, the later combination used with bucket seats.  Despite the 7.2 litre V8, the gearing and bulk conspired against muscle-car like acceleration although the ET (elapsed time) of 15.5 seconds for the standing quarter mile (400 m) was impressive, all things considered.  However, with a MSRP (manufacturer's suggested retail price) of US$5,939 (without any options) it was the corporation’s most expensive offering (except for the Imperial line) and this, combined with the absence of promotion and the anyway declining interest in the segment meant there wasn’t a second batch beyond the original 500-odd (the total quoted variously between 485-501), many of which lingered on dealers’ lots.  According to internal documents, the initial projections had anticipated sales of 2000.

A Hurst Jaws of Life used between 1977-2012 by the fire department in Carlsbad, New Mexico, now on display at the National Museum of American History.

The 300-H was the biggest of a number of cars to bear the Hurst name although internationally George Hurst’s (1927-1986; founder of his eponymous company), greatest legacy to the world was the “Jaws of Life”, a hydraulic cutter he first developed in 1961 after being shocked at how long it sometimes took to extract the driver from the crumpled wreck of a race car.  The great advantage of the “Jaws of Life” was that it worked like a very powerful pair of scissors, avoiding the showers of sparks produced by mechanical saws, always a risk to use in areas where fuel is likely to have been spilled.  The basic design came to be used in hydraulic rescue devices worldwide and quite how many lives have been saved by virtue of it use isn’t known but it would be a big number.

Ms Linda Vaughn on the move.

It’s said one 300-H was dealer-fitted with the fabled 426 cubic inch (7.0) Street Hemi V8 but like many such tales from the era, the veracity of that is uncertain and most find the story improbable.  Chrysler certainly never considered using either the Hemi or the triple-carburetor (3 x 2 bbl) version of the 440 because, given the market segment at which the thing was aimed, air-conditioning (AC) was thought likely to be an often chosen option and the factory never offered the option with either the Hemi or the most powerful 440, the systems of the era not suited to the high-revving units.  It’s thus an orthodoxy in the collector that “no cars with the 426 Hemi or 440 6 bbl were fitted with AC by the factory” and while that’s true of Chrysler’s factories, it not the case for every factory because Jensen in the UK offered AC in their Interceptor SP (Six-Pack, 1971-1973) which used the six-barrel 440 and the boutique Swiss manufacturer Monteverdi did include AC in the single mid-engined Hai (1970) fitted with a Hemi.