Rat

Rat (pronounced ratt)

(1) In zoology, any of several long-tailed rodents of the family Muridae, of the genus Rattus and related genera, distinguished from the mouse by being larger.

(2) In (scientifically inaccurate) informal use, any of the numerous members of several rodent families (eg voles & mice) that resemble true rats in appearance, usually having a pointy snout, a long, bare tail, and body length greater than 5 inches (120 mm).

(3) In hairdressing, a wad of shed hair used as part of a hairstyle; a roll of material used to puff out the hair, which is turned over it.

(4) In the slang of certain groups in London, vulgar slang for the vagina.

(5) As “to rat on” or “to rat out”, to betray a person or party, especially by telling their secret to an authority or enemy; to turn someone in.

(6) One of a brace of rodent-based slang terms to differentiate between the small-block (mouse motor) and big-block (rat motor) Chevrolet V8s built mostly in the mid-late twentieth century but still available (as "crate" engines) from US manufacturers.

(7) As RAT, a small turbine that is connected to a hydraulic pump, or electrical generator, installed in an aircraft and used as a power source.

(8) Slang term for a scoundrel, especially men of dubious morality.

(9) In the criminal class and in law enforcement, slang for an informer.

(10) In politics, slang for a person who abandons or betrays his party or associates, especially in a time of trouble.

(11) Slang for a person who frequents a specified place (mall rat, gym rat etc).

(12) In hairdressing, a pad with tapered ends formerly used in women's hair styles to give the appearance of greater thickness.

(13) In the slang of blue-water sailors, a place in the sea with rapid currents and crags where a ship is prone to being broken apart in stormy weather.

(14) In zoology (in casual use), a clipping of muskrat.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English ratte, rat & rotte, from the Old English ræt & rætt, and the Latin rodere from the Proto-Germanic rattaz & rattō (related also to the West Frisian rôt, the German Ratz & Ratte and the Swedish råtta & the Dutch rat), of uncertain origin but perhaps from the primitive Indo-European rehed- (to scrape, scratch, gnaw).  Zoological anthropologists however point out it’s possible there were no populations of rats in the Northern Europe of antiquity, and the Proto-Germanic word may have referred to a different animal.  The attestation of this family of words dates from the twelfth century.  Some of the Germanic cognates show considerable consonant variation such as the Middle Low German ratte & radde and the Middle High German rate, ratte & ratze, the irregularity perhaps symptomatic of a late dispersal of the word, although some etymologists link it with the Proto-Germanic stem raþō (nom); ruttaz (gen), the variations arising from the re-modellings in the descendants.

Mall rats.  In North America and other developed markets, there is now less scope for habitués because changing consumer behavior has resulted in a dramatic reduction in the volume of transactions conducted in physical stores and some malls are being either abandoned or re-purposed (health hubs and educational facilities being a popular use).  

The human distaste for these large rodents has made rat a productive additive in English.  Since the twelfth century it’s been applied (usually to a surname) to persons either held to resemble rats or share with them some characteristic or perception of quality with them. The specific sense of "one who abandons his associates for personal advantage" is from the 1620s, based on the belief that rats leave a ship about to sink or a house about to fall, and this led to the meaning "traitor” or “informant" although, perhaps surprisingly, there no reference to rat in this sense prior to 1902 where as the modern-sounding sense of associative frequency (mall-rat, gym-rat etc) was noted as early as 1864, firstly as “dock-rat”.  Dr Johnson dates “to smell a rat”, based on the behaviour of cats, to the 1540s.  Sir Boyle Roche (1736-1807), was an Irish MP famous for mangled phrases and mixed metaphors, of the best remembered of which was “I smell a rat; I see him forming in the air and darkening the sky; but I'll nip him in the bud".  There’s the rat-terrier (1852), the rat-catcher (1590s), the rat-snake (1818), rat-poison, (1799), the rat trap (late 1400s), the rat-pack (1951) and rat-hole which in 1812, based on the holes gnawed in woodwork by rats meant “nasty, messy place”, the meaning extended in 1921 to a "bottomless hole" (especially one where money goes).  Ratfink (1963) was juvenile slang either coined or merely popularized by US custom car builder Ed "Big Daddy" Roth (1932-2001), who rendered a stylised rat on some of his creations, supposedly to lampoon Mickey Mouse.

Cricket's most infamous rat (mullygrubber), MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground), 1 February, 1981.  In the 1970s brown & beige really had been a fashionable color combination but this was the combo's death knell.

Rat has a specific meaning in the cricketing slang of the West Indies, referring to a ball which, after being delivered by the bowler, rather than bouncing off the pitch at some angle, instead runs along the ground, possibly hitting the stumps with sufficient force to dislodge the bails, dismissing the batsman, the idea being of a rat scurrying across the ground.  In Australian slang, the same delivery is called a mullygrubber which, although it sounds old-fashioned, is said to date only from the 1970s, the construct thought based on the dialectal rural term mully (dusty, powdery earth) + grub(ber) in the sense of the grubs which rush about in the dirt if disturbed in such an environment.  Such deliveries are wholly serendipitous (for the bowler) and just bad luck (for the batsman) because it's not possible for such as ball to be delivered on purpose; they happen only because of the ball striking some crack or imperfection in the pitch which radically alters it usual course to a flat trajectory.  If a batsman is dismissed as a result, it's often called a "freak ball" or "freak dismissal".  Of course if a ball is delivered underarm a rat is easy to effect but if a batsman knows one is coming, while it's hard to score from, it's very easy to defend against.  The most infamous mullygrubber was bowled at the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG) on 1 February 1981 when, with New Zealand needing to score six (by hitting the ball, on the full, over the boundary) of the final delivery of the match, the Australian bowler sent down an underarm delivery, the mullygrubber denying the batsman the opportunity to score and securing an Australian victory.  Although then permissible within the rules, it was hardly in the spirit of the game and consequently, the regulations were changed.

The Ram Air Turbine

Ram Air Turbine (RAT) diagram.

The Ram Air Turbine (RAT) is a small, propeller-driven turbine connected to a hydraulic pump, or electrical generator, installed in an aircraft to generate emergency power.  In an emergency, when electrical power is lost, the RAT drops from the fuselage or wing into the air-stream where it works as a mini wind-turbine, providing sufficient power for vital systems (flight controls, linked hydraulics and flight-critical instrumentation).

Vickers VC10 in BOAC (British Overseas Airways Corporation (1939-1974) livery.

Built between 1962-1970, although fast and a favorite with passengers because the rear-engine layout guaranteed a quiet cabin, only 54 VC10s were built and, in a market dominated by Boeing's epoch-making 707 (1956-1978), success proved elusive.  Even before the 747 in 1969 ushered in the wide-body era it was clear the elegant VC10 was a cul-de-sac but the airframe enjoyed a long career.  The RAF (Royal Air Force) had some configured as VIP transports and the last of those used as tankers for in-flight re-fueling platforms weren't retired until 2013.

Most modern commercial airliners are equipped with RATs, the first being installed on the Vickers VC10 in the early 1960s and the big Airbus A380 has the largest RAT propeller in current use at 64 inches (1.63 metres) but most are about half this size.  It’s expected as modern airliners begin increasingly to rely on electrical power, either propeller sizes will have to increase or additional RATs may be required, the latter sometimes the desirable choice because of the design limitations imposed by the height of landing gear.  A typical large RAT can produce from 5 to 70 kW but smaller, low air-speed models may generate as little as 400 watts.  Early free-fall nuclear weapons used rats to power radar altimeters and firing circuits; RATS being longer-lasting and more reliable than batteries.  

A RAT deployed.

The airline manufacturers have been exploring whether on-board fuel-cell technology can be adapted to negate the need for RAT, at least in the smaller, single-aisle aircraft where the weight of such a unit might be equal to or less than the RAT equipment.  The attraction of housing in an airliner's wing-body fairing is it would be a step towards the long-term goal of eliminating an airliner's liquid-fuelled auxiliary turbine power unit.  Additionally, if the size-weight equation could be achieved, there’s the operational advantage that a fuel-cell is easier to test than a RAT because, unlike the RAT, the fuel-cell can be tested without having to power-up most of the system.  The physics would also be attractive, the power from a fuel cell higher at lower altitudes where as the output of a RAT declines as airspeed decreases, a potentially critical matter given it’s during the relatively slow approach to a landing that power is needed to extend the trailing edge of the wing flaps and operate other controls.

If the weight and dimensions of the fuel cell is at least "comparable" to a RAT and the safety and durability testing is successful, at least on smaller aircrafts, fuel-cells might be an attractive option for new aircraft although, at this stage, the economics of retro-fitting are unlikely to be compelling.  Longer term research is also looking at a continuously running fuel cell producing oxygen-depleted exhaust gas for fuel-tank inerting (a safety system that reduces the risk of combustion in aircraft fuel tanks by lowering the oxygen concentration in the ullage (the space above the fuel) to below the level needed to support a fire, typically by replacing oxygen with an inert gas like nitrogen), and water for passenger amenities, thereby meaning an aircraft could be operated on the on the ground without burning any jet-fuel, the fuel-cell providing power for air conditioning and electrical systems.

1944 Messerschmitt Me 163 Komet  (1944-1945).

The only rocket-powered fighter ever used in combat, the Messerschmitt Me 163 Komet had a small RAT in the nose to provide electrical power.  The early prototypes of the somewhat more successful (and much more influential) Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter also had a propeller in the nose for the first test flights but it wasn't a a RAT; it was attached to a piston engine which was there as an emergency backup because of the chronic unreliability of the early jet engines.  It proved a wise precaution, the jets failing on more than one occasion.

1974 Suzuki's air-cooled GT380 Sebring with Ram Air System (left) and 1975 Suzuki GT750 with water-cooling (right).

The other “Ram Air” was Suzuki’s RAS (Ram Air System), fitted to the GT380 Sebring (1972-1980) and GT550 Indy (1972-1977) as well as (off and on) several version of the smaller two-cylinder models.  It wasn’t used on the water-cooled GT750 Le Mans (1972-1977) because the radiator acted to impede the airflow to the engine.

The GT380, GT550 and GT750 were two-stroke triples noted for an unusual 3-into-4 exhaust system which the central header-pipe was bifurcated, thus permitting four tail-pipes.  There was no justification in engineering for this (indeed it added cost and weight) and it existed purely for visual effect, allowing an emulation of the look on the four-cylinder Hondas and Kawasakis.  Ironically, despite the additional metal, the asymmetric 3-into-3 system on the Kawasaki triples (1969-1976) is better remembered although the charismatic (if sometimes lethal) qualities of the machines may be a factor in that; exhaust systems do exert a powerful fascination for motor-cyclists.  The RAS was nothing more than a cast aluminum shroud fixed atop the cylinder head to direct air-flow, enhancing upper cylinder cooling.  The “ram air” idea had been used in the 1960s by car manufacturers to “force feed” cool air directly into induction systems and when tested it did in certain circumstances increase power but whether Suzuki's RAS delivered more efficient cooling isn’t clear.  When the twin-cylinder GT250 Hustler (1971-1981 and thus pre-dating the pornography magazine Hustler, first published in 1974) was revised in 1976, the RAS was deleted and replaced by conventional fins without apparent ill-effect but the RAS was light, cheap to produce, maintenance-free and looked sexy so some advantages were certainly there.  Interestingly, the companion GT185 (1973-1978) retained the RAS for the model’s entire production.

Big and small-block Chevrolet V8s: the Rat and the Mouse

Small and big-block Chevrolet V8s compared, the small-block (mouse) to the left in each image, the big-block (rat) to the right.

Mouse and rat are informal terms used respectively to refer to the classic small (1955-2003) and big-block Chevrolet V8s (1958-2021).  The small-block was first named after a rodent although the origin is contested; either it was (1) an allusion to “mighty mouse” a popular cartoon character of the 1950s, the idea being the relatively small engine being able to out-perform many bigger units from other manufacturers or (2) an allusion to the big, heavy Chrysler Hemi V8s (the first generation (Firepower) 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre), 354 (5.8) & 392 (6.4) versions) being known as “the elephant”, the idea based on the widely held belief elephants are scared of mice (which may actually be true although the reason appears not to be the long repeated myth it’s because they fear the little rodents might climb up their trunk).  Zoologically, "bee" might have been a better choice; elephants definitely are scared of bees.  The mouse (small-block) and rat (big-block) distinction is simple to understand: the big block is externally larger although, counterintuitively, the internal displacement of some mouse motors was greater than some rats.  

1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 396 (with 402 cid V8).

Whether that seeming anomaly (actually common throughout the industry during the big-block era) amused or disturbed the decision-makers at Chevrolet isn't known but in 1970 when the small block 400 (6.6) was introduced, simultaneously the big-block 396 (6.5) was enlarged to 402 (6.6) but the corporation then muddied the waters by continuing to call the 402 a "Turbo-Jet 396" when fitted to the intermediate class Chevelle, the rationale presumably that "SS 396" had such strong "brand recognition".  Available since 1965, by 1969 the SS 396 Chevelle was finally out-selling the Pontiac GTO (which in 1964 had seeded the muscle car movement) so the attachment was understandable.  Further to confuse people, the 400 was advertised as the "Turbo-Fire 400" while if fitted to the full-size line, the 402 was called the "Turbo-Jet 400".  Presumably, the assumption was anyone understanding the 400 & 402 ecosystems would buy the one they wanted while those not in the know would neither notice nor care.  Nor was the deviation in displacement between what was on the badge and what lay beneath the hood (bonnet) exclusive to Chevrolet, there being a long list of things not quite what was on the label although the true specifications usually were listed in the documentation and even the advertising.  The variations occurred for a number of reasons but rarely was there an attempt to deceive, even if sometimes things were left unstated or relegated to the small print.

The “428 Cobra Matter”

That’s not to say there were no disputes about the difference between what was “in the tin” compared with what was “on the tin”.  In June 1969, a certain Mr Karl Francis “Fritz” Schiffmayer (1935-2010) of Lake Zurich, Illinois, wrote to Ford’s customer relations department complaining about the “427 Ford Cobra” he had purchased (as a new car) from a Chicago “Ford Dealer”.  What disappointed Mr Shiffmayer was the performance which didn’t match the widely publicized numbers achieved by many testers and, perhaps more to the point, he found his “$8500 Super Ford could barely keep up with” various $5000 Chevrolets.  For a Ford driver, few things could be more depressing.  Upon investigation, he discovered that despite “‘427’ signs all over the engine and the front fenders”, his car was not “a ‘427’ as advertised and labelled but a ‘428’”.  Both V8s were around seven litres but were in many ways not comparable.

Mr Shiffmayer's letter to Ford, 23 June 1969.

Notionally, Mr Shiffmayer got more than he paid for (ie 428 v 427 is nominally an extra cubic inch) and had he bought a dozen (12) bread rolls from the bakery and been supplied a “baker’s dozen” (13) there’d have been no grounds for complaint because bread rolls are a “fungible” (ie functionally identical) so getting 13 is always better than getting 12 at the same price.  However, the 427 and 428 engines, although from the same FE (Ford-Edsel) family and externally similar (until closely inspected), were very different internally with the former notably more oversquare (ie big-bore) and fitted with cross-bolted main bearings; additionally, the 427s used in the Cobras featured “side-oiling”, a more extensive system of lubrication which afforded priority deliver of oil to the bottom-end, making the engine more robust and better suited to the extreme demands of competition.  By contrast, the a Cobra’s 428 was a modified version of the “Police Interceptor 428”, a high-output edition of a powerplant usually found in Ford’s full-sized line including luxury cars and station wagons where it’s smoothness and effortless low-speed torque was appreciated.  The “Police Interceptor” specification was literally that: the engine used by law enforcement in highway patrol vehicles and for street use, it offered a useful lift in performance but it was not suitable for racetracks.  Later, Ford would “mix & match” the 427 & 428 to create the 428 Cobra Jet, the 427’s heads, intake manifold and some other “bolt-on” bits & pieces creating a combination of power and torque close to ideal for ¼ mile (402 m) runs down drag strips although even then Ford cheated, under-rating the output so the cars would be placed in a different category.  That year, in drag racing, the 428 Cobra Jet Mustangs dominated their class which prompted the sanctioning body to change the rules, imposing their own nominal output ratings rather than accepting those of the manufacturer.  Still, even the Cobra Jet 428 remained suitable only for street and strip because ¼ mile runs were done in a straight line and, without the cross-bolting and enhanced lubrication, it wouldn’t have matched the 427’s ability to endure the extreme lateral forces encountered on high-speed circuits.

AC Shelby Cobra CSX3209 after 427 transplant.

That “427 Cobras” with 428 engines even existed was a product of circumstances rather than planning.  Although now million dollar collectables, it’s sometimes forgotten the 427 Cobra was a commercial failure and that meant production numbers never reached the levels required for homologation to be granted for competition in the category for which it was intended so as well as not selling as well as the small block predecessors on which the model’s reputation was built, nor did the seven litre version ever match its success on the track.  When it came time to build the second batch of 100 427 Cobras, the engine was in short supply because the intricacies in construction, coupled with the wider bore being at the limit the block would accommodate (at the foundry, with a slight shifting of the casting cores, a 427 block would have to be scrapped), it was expensive to produce and inconvenient for Ford to schedule in the small batches the sales supported.  The cheap, mass-produced 428 Police Interceptor was both readily available and half the cost so it was an attractive alternative for Shelby and that it bolted straight without needing any changes made it more desirable still; thus 428-powered “427s”.  For the final run of 48, Shelby procured from Ford genuine 427 side-oilers so the 100 428s were a minority of the big-blocks used and many have since been converted (“rectified” some prefer to say) with the substitution of a 427.  Interestingly, four of the 428s were fitted with automatic transmissions which actually made them more-suitable for street use but nobody seems subsequently have done this as a modification.

Shelby American's reply to Mr Shiffmayer, 21 July 1969.

As it was, As it was, Mr Shiffmayer decided to persevere and kept Shelby Cobra CSX3209 until he died, in the 1970s replacing the 428 with a specially built “tunnel port” (a trick with the pushrods to optimize the fluid dynamics of the fuel-air flow) 427.  Whether he was impressed with the reply (Ford referred his letter to Shelby American) he received in response to his complaint isn’t known but it’s an interesting document for a number of reasons:

(1) “…during the five year existence of the Cobra, three engines were used, the 289, the 427 and the 428.”  Actually, the first 75 used the 260.

(2) “Only a very few of the 959 Cobras built contained the 427 engine.”  Actually of the 998 built (in fairness this wasn’t in 1969 the agreed “final count” but it’s hard to understand how 959 was calculated) more than 150 had the 427 and whether this constitutes “very few” is debatable but it’s also not relevant to the complaint.

(3) “The 427 is a nomenclature such as the GT-500 is for the Shelby car.  It does not relate to the cubic displacement of the engine.  We are sorry that this misunderstanding occurred.”  Actually, when the Cobra 427 was released, “427” was a direct reference to displacement.  The “GT500” label was never likely to cause a “misunderstanding” because (1) there was no Ford 500 cid engine and (2) the GT500 was always advertised as being equipped with the 428.

Indisputably as labeled: 1966 Shelby 427 S/C Cobra (CSX 3040).  In 2018, it sold at auction for US$2,947,500.

So, the letter from Shelby really wasn’t a great deal of help (it was dated the day after man set foot on the moon so perhaps the writer's attention was divided).  Were such a case now to go to court several matters would need to be considered:

Was it notorious (ie widely known; common knowledge) in the circles of potential purchasers of such a car that some were powered by 427s and some by 428s and the differences between the two were well documented?  According to some sources, it was only after the “428 Cobra matter” began to attract comment that sales literature was updated to reflect the changed specification while others maintain publication was concurrent with production.

Was the fact the car had only “427” badges an indication of which engine was fitted or just a “model name” al la the Shelby GT500 (which used a 428) & GT350 (which used either a 289 or 302 (and later a 351))?  That originally (in 1965) “427” was a reference to the 427 engine seem incontestable but the question would be whether this changed to a mere “model name” when the 428 was adopted.  It would seem the evidential onus of proof of that would rest with Shelby American.

When making the decision to purchase, did the buyer rely on representations from an authority (in this case a “Ford dealer”) which might reasonably have been expected to (1) possess and (2) communicate all relevant facts?  In that matter, the court would need to consider whether, in the circumstances, there is any substantive difference between a “Ford dealer” and a “Shelby franchised dealer”.  This would be decided by (1) any competing claims from the parties and (2) what documents were supplied prior to or at the point of purchase.

Is it relevant that in 1966-1967 when Ford offered both the 427 & 428 in the Galaxie, that car was sold as the “7 Litre” (they really did use the French spelling) irrespective of which seven litre (427 or 428) V8 was fitted?  Given that, should the Cobra have been thus labelled and was the continued use of the 427 badge a misrepresentation in 428-powered cars?

Was the dealer aware of the buyer’s background?  Mr Shiffmayer was (1) an engineer with a degree in mechanical engineering from the University of Wisconsin and (2) he was not only an owner of a 289 Shelby Cobra but also raced it with notable success.  If the dealer was aware of those facts that doesn’t absolve them of a responsibility fully to disclose all relevant information but a court could consider it a mitigating factor.  If the dealer was aware those facts, what would then have to be considered is whether it would have been reasonable for it to be assumed the buyer either knew of the mechanical details or could reasonably have been expected to know.

Evidence: Shelby American "Shelby Cobra 427" spec sheet listing the 428 as the engine, thereby suggesting "427" was a model name rather than a reference to a specific engine.  The significance of this document rests on whether it appeared before or after Shelby American began selling 428 powered Cobras.   

Macropterous & Brachypterous

Macropterous (pronounced muh-krop-ter-uhs)

(1) In zoology (mostly in ornithology, ichthyology & entomology), having long or large wings or fins.

(2) In engineering, architecture and design, a structure with large, untypical or obvious “wings” or “fins”.

Late 1700s: The construct was macro- +‎ -pterous.  Macro is a word-forming element meaning “long, abnormally large, on a large scale”, from the French, from the Medieval Latin, from the Ancient Greek μακρός (makrós), a combining form of makrós (long) (cognate with the Latin macer (lean; meager)), from the primitive Indo-European root mak (long, thin).  In English it is used as a general purpose prefix meaning “big; large version of”).  The English borrowing from French appears as early as the sixteenth century but it tended to be restricted to science until the early 1930s when there was an upsurge in the publication of material on economics during the Great Depression (ie as “macroeconomy” and its derivatives).  It subsequently became a combining form meaning large, long, great, excessive et al, used in the formation of compound words, contrasting with those prefixed with micro-.  In computing, it covers a wide vista but describes mostly relatively short sets of instructions used within programs, often as a time-saving device for the handling of repetitive tasks, one of the few senses in which macro (although originally a clipping in 1959 of “macroinstruction”) has become a stand-alone word rather than a contraction.  Other examples of use include macrophotography (photography of objects at or larger than actual size without the use of a magnifying lens (1863)), macrospore (in botany, "a spore of large size compared with others (1859)), macroeconomics (pertaining to the economy as a whole (1938), macrobiotic (a type of diet (1961)), macroscopic (visible to the naked eye (1841)), macropaedia (the part of an encyclopaedia Britannica where entries appear as full essays (1974)) and macrophage (in pathology "type of large white blood cell with the power to devour foreign debris in the body or other cells or organisms" (1890)).

The –pterous suffix was from the Ancient Greek, the construct being πτερ(όν) (pter(ón) (feather; wing), from the primitive Indo-European péthr̥ (feather) and related to πέτομαι (pétomai) (I fly) (and (ultimately), the English feather) +‎ -ous.  In zoology (and later, by extension, in engineering and design), it was appended to words from taxonomy to mean (1) having wings and (2) having large wings.  Later, it was used also of fins.  The –ous suffix was from the Middle English -ous, from the Old French –ous & -eux, from the Latin -ōsus (full, full of); a doublet of -ose in an unstressed position.  It was used to form adjectives from nouns to denote (1) possession of (2) presence of a quality in any degree, commonly in abundance or (3) relation or pertinence to.  In chemistry, it has a specific technical application, used in the nomenclature to name chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a lower oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ic.  For example, sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  The comparative is more macropterous and the superlative most macropterous.  Macropterous & macropteran are adjectives and macropter & macroptery are nouns; the noun plural is macropters.

Google ngram: Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Brachypterous (pronounced bruh-kip-ter-uhs)

In zoology (mostly in ornithology & entomology), having short, incompletely developed or otherwise abbreviated wings (defined historically as being structures which, when fully folded, do not reach to the base of the tail.long or large wings or fins.

Late 1700s: The construct was brachy- + -pterous.  The brachy- prefix was from the Ancient Greek βραχύς (brakhús) (short), from the Proto-Hellenic brəkús, from the primitive Indo-European mréǵus (short, brief).  The cognates included the Sanskrit मुहुर् (múhur) & मुहु (múhu), the Avestan m̨ərəzu.jīti (short-lived), the Latin brevis, the Old English miriġe (linked ultimately to the English “merry”) and the Albanian murriz.  It was appended to convey (1) short, brief and (2) short, small.  Brachypterous & brachypteran are adjectives and brachyptery & braˈchypterism are nouns.  The comparative would be more brachypterous and the superlative most brachypterous but because of the nature of the base word, that would seem unnatural.  The noun brachypter does not means “a brachypterous creature; it describes taeniopterygid stonefly of the genus Brachyptera”.

The European Chinch Bug which exists in both macropterous (left) and brachypterous (right) form; Of the latter, entomologists also use the term "micropterous" and use does seem interchangeable but within the profession there may be fine distinctions. 

The difference in the use of macropterous (long wings or fins) and brachypterous (short wings) is accounted for less by the etymological roots than the application and traditions of use.  In zoological science, macropterous was granted a broad remit and came to be used of any creature (form the fossil record as well as the living) with long wings (use most prevalent of insects) and water-dwellers with elongated fins.  The word was applied first to birds & insects before being used of fish (fins being metaphorical “wings” and in environmentally-specific function there is much overlap.  By extension, in the mid-twentieth century, macropterous came to be used in engineering, architecture and design including of cars, airframes and missiles.

Brachypterous (short wings) is used almost exclusively in zoology, particularly entomology, the phenomenon being much more common than among birds which, being heavier, rely for lift on wings with a large surface area.  Short wing birds do exist but many are flightless (the penguin a classic example where the wings are used in the water as fins (for both propulsion and direction)) and this descriptor prevails.  Brachypterous is less flexible in meaning because tightly it is tied to a specific biological phenomenon; essentially a “short fin” in a fish is understood as “a fin”.  Cultural and linguistic norms may also have been an influence in that while “macro-” is widely used a prefix denoting “large; big”, “brachy-” has never entered general used and remains a tool in biology.  So, in common scientific use, there’s no recognized term specifically for “short fins” equivalent to brachypterous (short wings) although, other than tradition, there seems no reason why brachypterous couldn’t be used thus in engineering & design.  If so minded, the ichthyologists could coin “brachyichthyous” (the construct being brachy- + ichthys (fish)) or brachypinnate (the construct being brachy- + pinna (“fin” or “feather” in Latin)), both meaning “short-finned fish”.  Neither seem likely to cath on however, the profession probably happy with “short-fin” or the nerdier “fin hypoplasia”.

The tailfin: the macropterous and the brachypterous

Lockheed P-38 Lightning in flight (left) and 1949 Cadillac (right).

Fins had appeared on cars during the inter-war years when genuinely they were added to assist in straight-line stability, a need identified as speeds rose.  The spread to the roads came from the beaches and salt flats where special vehicles were built to pursue the world land speed record (LSR) and by the mid 1920s, speeds in these contests were exceeding 150 mph (240 km/h) and at these velocities, straight-line stability could be a matter of life and death.  The LSR crew drew their inspiration from aviation and that field also provided the motif for Detroit’s early post-war fins, the 1949 Cadillac borrowing its tail features from the Lockheed P-38 Lightning (a US twin-boom fighter first flown in 1939 and built 1941-1945) although, despite the obvious resemblance, the conical additions to the front bumper bar were intended to evoke the image of speeding artillery shells rather than the P-38’s twin propeller bosses.

1962 Ford (England) Zodiac Mark III (left) and 1957 DeSoto Firesweep two-door hardtop (right).

From there, the fins grew although it wasn’t until in 1956 when Chrysler released the next season’s rage that extravagance truly began.  To one extent or another, all Chrysler’s divisions (Plymouth, Dodge, DeSoto, Chrysler, Imperial) adopted the macropterous look and the public responded to what was being described in the press as “futuristic” or “jet-age” (Sputnik had yet to orbit the earth; “space-age” would soon come) with a spike in the corporation’s sales and profits.  The competition took note and it wasn’t long before General Motors (GM) responded (by 1957 some Cadillac fins were already there) although, curiously Ford in the US was always tentative about the fin and their interpretation was always rather brachypterous (unlike their English subsidiary which added surprisingly prominent fins to their Mark III Zephyr & Zodiac (1961-1966).

Macropterous: Lindsay Lohan with wings, generated with AI (artificial intelligence) by Stable Diffusion.

Even at the time the fins attracted criticism although it was just as part of a critique of the newer cars as becoming too big and heavy with a notable level of inefficiency (increasing fuel consumption and little (if any) increase in usable passenger space with most of the bulk consumed by the exterior dimensions, some created by apparently pointless styling features of which the big fins were but one.  The public continued to buy the big cars (one did get a lot of metal for the money) but there was also a boom in the sales of both imported cars (their smaller size among their many charms) but the corporation which later became AMC (American Motor Corporation) enjoyed good business for their generally smaller offerings.  Chrysler and GM ignored Ford’s lack of commitment to the macropterous and during the late 1950s their fin continued to grow upwards (and, in some cases, even outwards) but, noting the flood of imports, decided to join the trend, introducing smaller ranges; whereas in 1955, the majors offered a single basic design, by 1970 there would be locally manufactured “small cars”, sub-compacts”, “compacts” and “intermediates” as well as what the 1955 (which mostly had been sized somewhere between a “compact” and an “intermediate”) evolved into (now named “full-size”, a well-deserved appellation).

1959 Cadillac with four-window hardtop coachwork (the body-style known also as the "flattop" or "flying wing roof") (left) and 1961 Imperial Crown Convertible (right).

It was in 1959-1961 that things became “most macropterous” (peak fin) and the high-water mark of the excess to considered by most to be the 1959 Cadillac, east of the towering fins adorned with a pair of taillights often described as “bullet lights” but, interviewed year later, a member of the General Motors Technical Center (opened in 1956 and one of the mid-century’s great engines of planned obsolescence) claimed the image they had in mind was the glowing exhaust from a rocket in ascent, then often seen in popular culture including film, television and advertising.  However, although a stylistic high, it was the 1961 Imperials which set the mark literally, the tip of those fins standing almost a half inch (12 mm) taller and it was remembered too for the “neo-classical” touch of four free-standing headlights, something others in the industry declined to follow.

Tending to the brachypterous: As the seasons went by, the Cadillac's fins would retreat but would not for decades wholly vanish.

It’s a orthodoxy in the history of design that the fins grew to the point of absurdity and then vanished but that’s not what literally happened in all cases.  Some manufacturers indeed suddenly abandon the motif but Cadillac, perhaps conscious of having nurtured (and in a sense “perfected”) the debut of the 1949 range must have felt more attached because, after 1959, year after year, the fins would become smaller and smaller although decades later, vestigial fins were still obviously part of the language of design.  In Europe, others would also prune.

Macropterous to brachypterous.  Sunbeam Alpine: 1960 Series I (left) and 1966 Series V. 

Built in five series between 1959-1968, the fins on the Sunbeam Alpine would have seemed a good idea in 1957 when the lines were approved but trend didn’t persist and with the release in 1964 of the revised Series IV, the effect was toned down, the restyling achieved in an economical way by squaring off the rake at the rear, this lowering the height of the tips.  Because the release of the Series IV coincided with the debut of the Alpine Tiger (fitted initially with a 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) V8 (and later a 4.7 (289)), all the V8 powered cars used the “low fin” body.

Macropterous to brachypterous. 1961 Mercedes-Benz 300 SE Lang (Long) (left) and 1971 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 coupé.

Regarded by some as a symbol of the way the Wirtschaftswunder (the post war “economic miracle” in the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany, the old West Germany)) had ushered away austerity, the (slight) exuberance of the fins which appeared on the Mercedes-Benz W111 (1959-1968) & W112 (1961–1965) seemed almost to embarrass the company, offended by the suggestion they would indulge in a mere “styling trend”.  Although the public soon dubbed the cars the Heckflosse (literally “tail-fins”), the factory insisted they were Peilstege (parking aids or sight-lines (literally "bearing bars")), the construct being peil-, from peilen (take a bearing; find the direction) + Steg (bar) which marked the extent of the bodywork, this to assist while reversing.  That may have been true (the company has never been above a bit of myth-making) but when a coupé and cabriolet was added to the W111 & W112 range, the fins were noticeably smaller, achieving an elegance of line Mercedes-Benz has never matched.  Interestingly, a la Cadillac, when the succeeding sedans (W108-W109 (1965-1972) & W116, (1972-1979)) were released, both retained a small hint of a fin although by 1972 it wasn’t enough even to be called vestigial; the factory said the small deviation from the flat was there to increase structural rigidity.

Macropterous to brachypterous: 1962 Vanden Plas Princess 3 Litre (left) and 1967 Vanden Plas Princess 4 Litre R (right).

The Italian design house Pinninfarina took to fins in the late 1950s and applied what really were variations of the same basic design to commissions from Fiat, Lancia, Peugeot and BMC (British Motor Corporation, a conglomerate created by merger in 1952 which brought together Morris, Austin (and soon Austin-Healey), MG, Riley, Wolseley & Vanden Plas under the one corporate umbrella.  There were a several BMC “Farinas” sold under six badges and the ones with the most prominent fins were the “big” Farinas, the most expensive of which were Princess 3 Litre (1959-1960), Vanden Plas Princess 3 Litre (1960-1964) and Vanden Plas Princess 4 Litre R (1964-1968); the “R” appended to the 4 Litre’s model name was to indicate its engine (which had begun life as a military unit) was supplied by Rolls-Royce, a most unusual arrangement.  The 4 Litre used the 3 Litre’s body with a number of changes, one of which was a change in the shape and reduction in the size of the rather chunky fins.  Although the frumpy shell remained, the restyling was thought quite accomplished though obviously influenced by the Mercedes-Benz W111 & W112 coupés & cabriolets but if one is going to imitate, one should choose to emulate the finest.

Doodlebug

Doodlebug (pronounced dood-l-buhg)

(1) In entomology the larva of an antlion (a group of some 2,000 species of insect in the neuropteran family Myrmeleontidae, the appellation “doodlebug” an allusion to the “doodle-like” marks they leave in the sand as tracks of their movement.

(2) In entomology (UK), a cockchafer (genus Melolontha).

(3) In entomology (US regional), a woodlouse.

(4) Any of various small, squat vehicles.

(5) A divining rod or similar device supposedly useful in locating underground water, oil, minerals etc.

(6) In World War II (1939-1945) UK slang, the German cruise missile the V1, (Fs-103, also known in formally as the “flying bomb” or “buzz bomb”, the latter an allusion to the distinctive sound made by the craft’s pulse-jet power-plant.  The slang began among RAF (Royal Air Force) personnel and later spread to the general population.

(7) In US rural slang, as “doodlebug tractor”, a car or light truck converted into tractor used for small-scale agriculture for a small farm during World War II.

(8) In informal use, a term of endearment (now rare).

(9) In informal use, a slackard (an archaic form of slacker) or time-waster (now rare).

(10) In informal, an idiot (the word used casually rather than in its once defined sense in mental health).

(11) In informal use, someone who habitually draws (or doodles) objects).

(12) Individual self-propelled train cars (obsolete).

(13) A device claimed to be able to locate oil deposits.

1865-1870: A coining in US English, the construct being doodle + bug, the first known use as a US dialectal form (south of the Mason-Dixon line) to describe certain beetles or larva.  Doodle dates from the early seventeenth century and was used to mean “a fool or simpleton”.  It was originally a dialectal form, from dudeldopp (simpleton) and influenced by dawdle (To spend time idly and unfruitfully; to waste time, pointlessly to linger, to move or walk lackadaisically; to “dilly-dally”), thus the later use of doodle to mean “a slackard (slacker) or time-waster”.  The German variants of the etymon included Dudeltopf, Dudentopf, Dudenkopf, Dude and Dödel (and there’s presumably some link with the German dudeln (to play the bagpipe)).  There is speculation the Americanism “dude” may have some link with doodle and the now internationalized (and sometimes gender-neutral) “dude” has in recent decades become one of slang’s more productive and variable forms.  The song Yankee Doodle long pre-dates the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783) but it was popularized in the era by being used as a marching song by British colonial troops and intended to poke fun at their rebellious opponents.  From this use was derived the verb of the early eighteenth century (to doodle), meaning “to swindle or to make a fool of”.  The predominant modern meaning (the drawings regarded usually as “small mindless sketches”) emerged in the 1930s either from this meaning or (s seems to have greater support), from the verb “to dawdle” which since the seventeenth century had been used to mean “wasting time; being lazy”.  In slang and idiomatic use, doodles uses are legion including “the penis” and any number of rhyming forms with meanings ranging from the very good to the very bad.

A doodled Volkswagen “bug” on Drawn Inside.

Bug dates from 1615–1625 and the original use was to describe insects, apparently as a variant of the earlier bugge (beetle), thought to be an alteration of the Middle English budde, from the Old English -budda (beetle) by etymologists are divided on whether the phrase “bug off” (please leave) is related to the undesired presence of insects or was of a distinct origin.  Bug, bugging & debug are nouns & verbs, bugged is a verb & adjective and buggy is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is bugs.  Although “unbug” makes structural sense (ie remove a bug, as opposed to the sense of “debug”), it doesn’t exist whereas forms such as the adjectives unbugged (not bugged) and unbuggable (not able to be bugged) are regarded as standard.  The array of compound forms meaning “someone obsessed with an idea, hobby etc) produced things like “shutterbug” (amateur photographer) & firebug (arsonist) seems first to have emerged in the mid nineteenth century.  The development of this into “a craze or obsession” is thought rapidly to have accelerated in the years just before World War I (1914-1918), again based on the notion of “bitten by the bug” or “caught the bug”, thus the idea of being infected with an unusual enthusiasm for something.  The use to mean a demon, evil spirit, spectre or hobgoblin was first recorded in the mid-fourteenth century and was a clipping of the Middle English bugge (scarecrow, demon, hobgoblin) or uncertain origin although it may have come from the Middle Welsh bwg (ghost; goblin (and linked to the Welsh bwgwl (threat (and earlier “fear”) and the Middle Irish bocanách (supernatural being).  There’s also speculation it may have come from the scary tales told to children which included the idea of a bugge (beetle) at a gigantic scale.  That would have been a fearsome sight and the idea remains fruitful to this day for artists and film-makers needing something frightening in the horror or SF (science fiction) genre.  The use in this sense is long obsolete although the related forms bugbear and bugaboo survive.  Dating from the 1570s, a bugbear was in folklore a kind of “large goblin”, used to inspire fear in children (both as a literary device & for purposes of parental control) and for adults it soon came to mean “a source of dread, resentment or irritation; in modern use it's an “ongoing problem”, a recurring obstacle or adversity or one’s pet peeve.  The obsolete form bugg dates from circa 1620 and was a reference to the troublesome bedbug, the construct a conflation of the middle English bugge (scarecrow, hobgoblin) and the Middle English budde (beetle).  The colloquial sense of “a microbe or germ” dates from 1919, the emergence linked to the misleadingly-named “Spanish flu” pandemic.  Doodlebug & doodlebugger are nouns and doodlebugging is a verb; the noun plural is doodlebugs.  The forms have sometimes been hyphenated.

A doodlebug (left) and his (or her) doodles in the sand (right).

That the word doodlebug has appeal is obvious because since the 1860s it has been re-purposed many time, often with the hint something “small but not cute”, that something understandable given the original creature so named (larva of an antlion) is not one of nature’s more charismatic creations.  Doodlebugs are squat little things which live mostly in loose sand where they create pit traps and genuinely are industrious creatures, their name earned not because they are idle time-wasters but because the tracks they leave in the sand are strikingly similar to the doodles people often wile away their time drawing.  The frankly unattractive ant leave their doodles behind because as they percolate over the sands, their big butts drag behind them, leaving the erratic trails.  So compelling is the name, it has been applied to a number of other, similar insects.  Another use is attributive from the link with the seventeenth century notion of a doodle being “a simpleton or time-waster”, extended later to “an idiot” (the word used casually rather than in its once defined sense in mental health); in the 1930s it came be used of those who incessantly sketch or draw stuff, the idea being they are squandering their time.  What they draw are called “doodles”, the source of the name for the artist.

Doodles on a rendering of Lindsay Lohan by Stable Diffusion.

The mid-twentieth century art (some of its practitioners claiming it was a science) of doodlebugging was practiced by doodlebuggers who used a method said to be not greatly different from the equally dubious technique of the water diviner.  All the evidence suggests there was a general scepticism of the claims that a bent rod waived about above the earth could be used to locate hydro-carbons and the use of “doodlebuging” to refer to the process was originally a slur but it became an affectionate name for those intrepid enough to trek into deserts seeking the “black gold”.  In the 1940s when the “profession” was first described, any reliable means of detecting sub-surface oil deposits simply didn’t exist (other than drilling a hole in the ground to see if it was there) and the early doodlebuggers were scam merchants.  The science did however advance (greatly spurred on by the demands of wartime) and when geologists came to be able to apply the modern machinery of seismic mapping and actually had success, they too were called doodlebuggers and happily adopted the name.

Texaco Doodlebug fuel tanker, one of eight built in 1934-1935 during the industry's "streamliner" era.  It was a time when art deco's lovely lines appeared in many fields of design. 

In the early twentieth century, a doodlebug was a self-propelled rail car, used on rail lines which were short in length and subject only to light traffic.  These were autonomous vehicles, powered both by gasoline (it was the pre-diesel era in the US) and electricity and were an economical alternative for operators, being much cheaper to run than the combination of large locomotives & carriage cars, eminently suited to lower passenger numbers.  The concept may be compared with the smaller (often propeller or turbo-prop) aircraft used on regional & feeder routes where the demand wouldn’t make the use of a larger airliner viable.  Although the doodlebugs carried relative few passengers, their operating costs were correspondingly lower so the PCpM (passenger cost per mile) was at least comparable with the full-sized locomotives.  While it may be a myth, the story is that one rail employee described the small, stumpy rail car as looking like a “potato bug” and (as English informal terms tend to do) this morphed into the more appealing doodlebug.

Some assembly required: a doodlebug tractor with hydraulic pump-driven crane, the agglomeration dating from circa 1934.

Although the mechanical specification of each tended to vary as things broke and were replaced with whatever fell conveniently to hand or could be purchased cheaply, when discovered it included a 1925 Chevrolet gasoline engine, Ford Model T firewall and steering, Ford Model A three-speed manual transmission, Ford Model TT rear end and AM General HMMWV rear wheels and tires.  The "mix & match" approach was typical of the genre and it's doubtful many were for long exactly alike.

A doodlebug could also be a DIY (do it yourself) tractor.  During the Great Depression of the 1930s, the smaller-scale farmers in the US no longer had the capital (or access to capital) to purchase plant and equipment on the same scale as in more prosperous times but they needed still to make their land productive and one of the modern tools which had transformed agriculture was the tractor.  New tractors being thus unattainable for many, necessity compelled many to turn to what was available and that was the stock of old cars and pickup trucks, now suddenly cheaper because the Depression had lowered demand for them as well.  With saws and welding kits, imaginative and inventive farmers would crop & chop and slice & dice until they had a vehicle which would do much of what a tractor could and according to the legends of the time, some actually out-performed the real thing because their custom design was optimized for a specific, intended purpose.  What made the modifications possible in the engineering sense was that it was a time when cars and pick-ups were almost always built with a separate chassis; the bodies could be removed and it was possible still to drive the things and it was on these basic platforms the “doodlebug” tractors were fashioned.  They were known also as “scrambolas”, “Friday night specials” and “hacksaw tractors” but it was “doodlebug” which really caught on and so popular was the practice that kits were soon advertised in mail-order catalogues (the Amazon of the day and a long tradition in the rural US).  Not until the post-war years when economic conditions improved and production of machinery for civilian use resumed at full-scale did the doodlebug industry end.

1946 Brogan Doodlebug (right) with 1942 Pontiac Torpedo (left).  In the US, some passenger car production continued in the first quarter of 1942. 

Although now what’s most remembered about the US cars of the post-war era are the huge and extravagantly macropterous creations, there were more than two dozen manufacturers in the 1940s & 1950s which offered “micro-cars”, aimed at (1) female drivers, (2) inner-city delivery services and (3) urban drivers who wanted something convenient to manoeuvre and park.  The market however proved unresponsive and as the population shift to the suburbs accelerated, women wanted station wagons (in many ways the emblematic symbol of suburban American of the 1950s) and the delivery companies needed larger capacity.  As the VW Beetle and a few other niche players would prove during that decade’s “import boom”, Americans would buy smaller cars, just not micro-cars which even in Europe, where they were for a time successful, the segment didn’t survive to see the end of the 1960s.  But there was the Brogan Doodlebug, made by the B&B Specialty Company of Rossmoyne, Ohio and produced between 1946-1950 although that fewer than three dozen were sold hints at the level of demand at a time when Detroit’s mass-production lines were churning out thousands of “standard sized” cars a day.

1946 Brogan Doodlebug.

Somewhat optimistically (though etymologically defensible) described as a “roadster”, the advertising for the Doodlebug exclusively featured women drivers and it certainly was in some ways ideal for urban use (except perhaps when raining, snowing, in cold weather, under harsh sun etc).  It used a three wheeled chassis with the single wheel at the front, articulated so the vehicle could turn within its own length so parking would have been easy, the thing barely 96 inches (2440 mm) in length & 40 inches (1020 mm) wide; weighing only some 442 lbs (200 kg), it was light enough for two strong men to pick it up and move it.  Powered by either a single or twin-cylinder rear-mounted engine (both rated at a heady 10 horsepower (7.5 kW)) no gearbox was deemed necessary thus no tiresome gear levers or clutch pedals were there to confuse women drivers and B&B claimed a fuel consumption up to 70 mpg (US gallon; 3.4 L/100 km) with a cruising speed of 45-50 mph (70-80 km/h).  All this for US$400 and remarkably, it seems it wasn’t until 1950 (after some 30 doodlebugs had been built over four years) the cost-accountants looked at the project and concluded B&B were losing about US$100 on each one sold.  A price-rise was ruled out so production ended and although B&B released the Broganette (an improved three-wheeler with the single wheel at the rear which provides much better stability), it was no more successful and the company turned to golf carts and scooters which proved much more lucrative.  B&B later earned a footnote in the history of motorsport as one of the pioneer go-kart manufacturers.

Annotated schematic of the V-1 (left) and a British Military Intelligence drawing (dated 16 June 1944, 3 days after the first V-1 attacks on London (right). 

First deployed in 1944 the German Vergeltungswaffen eins (“retaliatory weapon 1” or "reprisal weapon 1” and eventually known as the V-1) was the world’s first cruise missile.  One of the rare machines to use a pulse-jet, it emitted such a distinctive sound that those at whom it was aimed nicknamed it the “buzz-bomb” although it attracted other names including “flying bomb” and “doodlebug”.  In Germany, before Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897–1945; Reich Minister of Propaganda 1933-1945) decided it was the V-1, the official military code name was Fi 103 (The Fi stood for Fieseler, the original builder of the airframe and most famous for their classic Storch (Stork), short take-off & landing (STOL) aircraft) but there were also the code-names Maikäfer (maybug) & Kirschkern (cherry stone).  While the Allied defenses against the V-1 did improve over time, it was only the destruction of the launch sites and the occupation of territory within launch range that ceased the attacks.  Until then, the V-1 remained a highly effective terror weapon but, like the V-2 and so much of the German armaments effort, bureaucratic empire-building and political intrigue compromised the efficiency of the project.