Magazine

Magazine (pronounced mag-uh-zeen)

(1) A publication that is issued periodically, usually bound in a paper cover, and typically contains essays, stories, poems, etc., by many writers, and often photographs and drawings, frequently specializing in a particular subject or area, as hobbies, news, or sports.

(2) A room or place for keeping gunpowder and other explosives, as in a fort or on a warship.

(3) A building or place for keeping military stores, as arms, ammunition, or provisions.

(4) A metal receptacle for a number of bullets or cartridges, inserted into certain types of automatic and semi-automatic weapons which, when empty, is removed and replaced by a full receptacle in order to continue firing.

(5) In broad or narrowcast media (radio, TV, social etc), a production consisting of several, usually short, segments in which various subjects are examined, usually in greater detail than on a regular newscast.  In the jargon of the industry: the magazine format.

(6) A device for continuously recharging a handling system, stove or boiler with solid fuel.

(7) A storehouse or warehouse (now rare).

(8) A collection of war munitions.

(9) A rack for automatically feeding a number of slides through a projector.

(10) In film-stock photography, an alternative name for cartridge.

(11) A city regarded as a marketing centre (archaic).

1581: From the Middle French magasin (warehouse, store), from the Italian magazzino (storehouse), from the Arabic مَخَازِن‎ (makhāzin) (plural of مَخْزَن‎ (makhzan) (storehouse)) noun of place from خَزَنَ‎ (khazana) (to store, to stock, to lay up); from the same Arabic source came the Spanish almacén (warehouse) and it's an example of European languages borrowing from an Arabic in plural form to create a singular form.  The original Arabic plural مخازن (maxāzin) was from the singular noun مخزن (maxzan) (storehouse; depot; shop).  A magazinette was  a small or short magazine (in the sense of a periodic publication), based on the notion of a novella or operetta.  Such things do still exist but the term has fallen from use.  In the early days of the commercial availability of semi-automatic firearms, at least one manufacturer did label those used with handguns "magazinette", the idea being they were a small version of the "magazines" supplied with larger weapons but the four syllable suggestion seems almost instantly to have been replaced by "clip".  The informal noun describing the industry publishing magazines was magazineland.  Magazine, magaziner & magazinette are nouns and magazinelike (and magazine-like) is an adjective (magazinesque seems to be non-standard); the noun plural is magazines.

Lindsay Lohan, Vogue magazine (Spanish edition), August 2009.

The original general sense of “storehouse” is almost obsolete except for military purposes and in naval history, magazines feature frequently because their detonation (usually as a result of attack but sometimes accidents too) was often the cause of ships being sunk, often with a high death-toll.  As used to describe books figuratively as “storehouses of information”, the form emerged circa 1640, the first application to a "periodical journal" was the Gentleman's Magazine in 1731.  Over the years magazines have appeared in a variety of formats with paper stock of different sizes and quality and have been as small as a single sheet or have run to hundreds of pages.  Although high-end publications were often lavish, it was only after the 1970s that the use of glossy paper became the industry standard after for years often appearing only on covers.  In the West, the the 1970s, 1980s & 1990s were the golden decades for magazines (and newspapers), the general trend of rising prosperity and the attractiveness of the medium to advertisers meaning growth of the sector was assured and the ease with which new entrants could appear was enhanced by the rise of desktop publishing, meaning entire editions could be composed with equipment which cost a tiny faction of what was required even a generation earlier.  There was churn because many came and went and the periodic recessions claimed some but during those decades the trend was more and not less.

Jarre 10-Shot Pinfire "Harmonica" pistol with 10 chamber magazine.

The early pistols were essentially small-scale muskets with the same, single-shot capability but there was for decades a quest to find a reliable and economical to manufacture design which increased this capacity and the “harmonica” design was an early invention, breech loaded with a steel slide magazine which contained chambers for the projectiles.  The capacity was determined by the size of the magazine although, obviously, the design inherently precluded carrying one in a conventional holster were the magazine in place.  The earliest known examples date for the 1740s.

Ruger Single-Nine .22 Magnum revolver (9-round cylinder) in stainless-steel with fibre-optic front sight (left) and Desert Eagle .50 Magnum Semi-Automatic (7 round magazine) in stainless steel (right).

At various points in the nineteenth century, for volume production, the industry settled on (1) revolvers with a "revolving" cylinder containing the cartridges and (2) semi-automatics with the shells held in a magazine (or “clip”) housed usually in the grip.  The two designs each have advantages and disadvantages: In their favour, revolvers are reliable and, with fewer moving parts, are less prone to jamming, (2) are easy to use (basically “point & fire”), (3) are easy to clean and maintain, (4) are available in a variety of calibres (although the larger the bore, the lower the cylinder’s capacity, the range from 5 x .50 to 9-12 x .22) and (5) can be fired even if pressed against an object.  The drawbacks include (1) slower reloading, (2) bulk (revolvers tend to be wider and heavier due to the cylinder) and (3) many revolvers have an inherently heavier trigger pull.  Semi-automatic often offer (1) a higher capacity for a given calibre than most revolvers, (2) faster reloading (assuming one has a replacement clip), (3) a thinner profile, (3) lighter trigger pulls (especially single-action units) and (4) a remarkable range of accessories including rails for lights, lasers and optics.  The drawbacks include (1) complexity and a greater number of moving parts, thus increasing the risk of jams or misfeeds, (2) steeper learning curve for users because of the more complex construction and operation, exacerbated by there being greater structural variation between manufacturers than with revolvers, (3) greater sensitivity to exactitude in load specification and (5) if pressed against an object, the slide can slightly move, preventing fire.

The early days of the internet, when most interactions happened on desktops or laptops, appears to have had little effect on the magazine publishing industry and may even have stimulated demand but it was in the early 2010s the near simultaneous arrival at scale of bandwidth, social media and smartphones which created a vicious cycle of (1) increasing volumes of content moving from established publishers to social media & (2) the advertising revenue following the viewers who followed the content.  The decade was littered with publications which either moved on-line or folded entirely but nothing compared with the sudden hit in 2020-2021 of the COVID-19 pandemic when titles which had for a generation or more been staples of the industry ceased to be.  However, some subsequently were revived and what seems to have happened is that many non-specialist titles (such as fashion magazines) have been re-invented as niche players designed to appeal to a small market with the interests and disposable income (the famous A1 & A2 demographic) which will attract advertisers.  A kind of pre-packaging of the audiences micro-marketers crave, this segment of the magazine business can be compared with narrowcasting and for some, the glossy magazine is something desirable and just another form of technology albeit one which can be a more pleasant and more convenient way to consume content and prices has risen so such things can also be flaunted as a status symbol, the sense of exclusivity sometimes not wholly illusory because some titles do restrict certain content to their print editions.  In the West, it's unlikely the glossies will ever again be the mass-market force they once were but as the revival of vinyl records demonstrated, where ongoing demand exists for something technically obsolete, provided a business model can be found profitably to provide supply, niches can survive and thrive.

The Economist's editors' choice of the ten covers which seemed best to define 2016.  At the time, 2016 seemed a ghastly year but worse was to come. 

However, being something that looks like a glossy magazine and sits in the shop on the shelf with other magazines does not guarantee that it is a magazine.  The English weekly The Economist (published since 1843) certainly ticks all the boxes for the criteria of what most people would think constitutes a magazine yet it has always described itself as a "newspaper".  That probably seems strange to many given the structure and nature of the content is more closely aligned with other specialist publications labelled "magazines" than with almost all "newspapers".  The explanation is relates to the the way the word "newspaper" was understood in 1843 and until 1971 it was printed in a broadsheet format (the change to the modern form in no way affecting editorial content).  Just to add some typically Economistesque precision, the editor in 2016 clarified the position further by explaining "perfect-bound" publications (the binding process used) were in 1843 called "newspapers".  If that sounds a highly technical point, so it should because economics remains, by definition and habit, the publication's meat & drink and economics is a technical business.  Whether it is or can ever be a science is one of those amusing arguments in which minds are never changed.

The Economist is renowned also for its cartoons and the dry, occasionally sardonic captions which accompany the photographs and illustrations used lend color or context to articles.  A rough guide to Hell appeared on the cover of the 2012 Christmas double issue (December 2012).  Theologically dubious, as a piece predictive of the decade ahead, it proved remarkably prescient.

Politically, The Economist is best classified as belonging to "the fiscally conservative, socially liberal faction of the rational centre-right" and one perhaps surprising quirk revealed in a survey conducted by a US university was the high number of readers who turn first to the weekly obituary, the subjects of which are an eclectic lot: In addition to the expected popes, politicians & potentates, criminals, Cassanovas & courtesans and musicians, mandarins & megalomaniacs (there's some overlap with other categories), there are lives recorded which might otherwise be forgotten such as the man who spent decades gathering and storing all the typefaces used by the world's typewriters.  Nor are non-humans neglected, Alex the African Grey (science's best known parrot) & Benson (England's best-loved fish), both granted the valedictories they doubtlessly deserved.

Quincunx

Quincunx (pronounced kwing-kuhngks or kwin-kuhngks)

(1) An arrangement of five objects, in a square or rectangle, one at each corner and one in the middle.

(2) In formal gardening, five plants placed thus as part of a design,

(3) In forestry, as a baseline pattern, five trees planted in such a shape.

(4) In botany, an overlapping arrangement of five petals or leaves, in which two are interior, two are exterior, and one is partly interior and partly exterior (described as a “quincuncial arrangement” of sepals or petals in the bud.

(5) The pattern of the five-spot on dice, playing cards and dominoes.

(6) In the history of numismatics, a bronze coin minted during the Roman Republic, valued at five-twelfths of an as (five times the value of the uncia); it was marked with five dots.

(7) In geometry, an angle of five-twelfths of a circle.

(8) In astrology An angle of five-twelfths of a circle (or 150°) between two objects (usually planets).

1640s: From the Latin quīncunx (the basis for the construct being quīnque +‎ uncia) which translates literally as “five twelfths”, a reference to a bronze coin minted (circa 211–200 BC) with a five dot pattern and issued by the Roman Republic; it was valued at five twelfths of an as (the Roman standard bronze coin).  Descendants from the Latin include the English quincunx, the French quinconce, the German Quinkunx, the Spanish quincunce and the Portuguese quincunce.  Quinque (the numeric five (5)) was from the From Proto-Italic kwenkwe, from the primitive Indo-European pénkwe, the cognates including the Sanskrit पञ्चन् (páñcan), the Ancient Greek πέντε (pénte), the Old Armenian հինգ (hing), the Gothic fimf and the Old English fīf (from which English ultimately gained “five”).  The basis of the construct of the Latin uncia may have been ūnicus (unique) (from ūnus (one), from the primitive Indo-European óynos) in the sense of twelfths making up the base unit of various ancient systems of measurement) +‎ -ia.  Not all etymologists agree and some prefer a link with the Ancient Greek ὀγκία (onkía) (uncia), from ὄγκος (ónkos) (weight).  Uncia was the name of various units including (1) the Roman ounce (one-twelfth of a Roman pound), (2) the Roman inch (one-twelfth of a Roman foot), (3) a bronze coin minted by the Roman Republic (one-twelfth of an as), (a Roman unit of land area (one-twelfth of a jugerum)) and in the jargon of apothecaries became a synonym of ounce (the British & American avoirdupois unit of mass); it was generally a synonym of twelfth.  In algebra, it was a (now obsolete) numerical coefficient in a binomial.  Quīnque was the source of many modern Romance words for “five” including the French cinq and the Spanish cinco; uncia was the source of both “inch” and “ounce”.  Quincunx is a noun, quincuncial is an adjective and quincuncially is an adverb; the noun plural is quincunxes or quincunces.

Quincunx garden, Wyken Hall, Suffolk, England.

When first it entered English in the 1640s, “quincunx” existed only in the vocabulary of astrologers (astrology then still a respectable science) and it was used to describe planetary alignments at a distance of five signs from one another.  By the 1640s it had migrated to mathematics (particularly geometry) where it was used to define “an arrangement of five objects in a square, one at each corner and one in the middle”, familiar in the five pips on a playing card or spots on a di).  In the 1660s (possibly from dice or cards rather than the fortune-tellers), it was picked up by gardeners to describe the layout of a section of a formal garden in which one plant or shrub was placed at each corner of a square or rectangle with a fifth exactly in the centre (an arrangement in two sets of oblique rows at right angles to each other, a sense known also in the original Latin.  In forestry, use began (as a layout tool for new plantings) early in the eighteenth century.

Lindsay Lohan (born 2 July 1986) joins a list of the illustrious with a Mercury Quincunx MC (a planetary alignment where Mercury is 150^o apart from the Medium Coeli (a Latin phrase which translates as “Midheaven” (“MC” in the jargon of astrologers)).  In explaining the significance of the Quincunx MC, the planetary soothsayers note than when two planets lie 150^o apart, “tension is created due to their lack of natural understanding or relation.”  The MC is the point where the cusp of the tenth house is found on a natal (birth) and the MC sign signifies  “one’s public persona”.  Now we know.

Fluffy dice in 1974 Ford Mustang II (left), the color of the dashboard molding emblematic of what was happening in the 1970s.    In continuous production over seven generations since 1964, the Mustang II (1973-1979) is the least fondly remembered iteration (uniquely among Mustangs, in its first season a V8 engine was not even optional) but, introduced some weeks before the first oil embargo was imposed in 1973, it was a great sales success and exceeded the company’s expectations.  Unlike at least some of the models in all other generations, the Mustang II is a classic “Malaise era” car and not a collectable in the conventional sense of the word although they do have a residual value because the front sub-frame with its rack & pinion steering and flexible engine accommodation is prized for all sort of purposes and many have been cannibalized for this assembly alone.  Fluffy dice are available also in designer colors (right) and as well as the familiar dots, there are some with hearts, skulls, handguns, eyes and dollar signs.  Probably, the Mustang II and fluffy dice are a perfect match.

Although the five-dot pattern on a di is known in the industry as the quincunx, the other five faces enjoy rather more prosaic descriptions and most just use the number:

1 (single dot, at the center of the face): The “center dot” or “monad”.

2 (two dots, diagonally opposite each other): The “diagonal pair”.

3 (three dots, forming a diagonal line): The “diagonal trio”.

4 (four dots, arranged in a square pattern: The “square” or “quadrant”.

6 (six dots, arranged in two parallel vertical lines of three dots each): The “double row” or “paired trios”.

US Army five star insignia of (General of the Army) Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961).

The quincunx was one of the layouts considered in 1944 when, for the first time, the US military created five star ranks in the army and navy (there would not be a separate USAF (US Air Force) until 1947).  Eventually a pentagrammatic circle of stars was preferred but the aesthetics of epaulettes were the least of the problems of protocol, the military been much concerned with history and tradition and the tangle wasn’t fully combed out until 1976 when the Congress, the White House, and the Pentagon, acting in succession, raised George Washington (1732–1799; first president of the United States, 1789-1797) to the rank of five star general (he’d retired as a (three star) lieutenant general), back-dating the appointment so he’d for all time be the military’s senior officer.  In 1944, there was also an amusing footnote which, according to legend, resulted in the decision to use the style “general” and not “Marshal” (as many militaries do) because the first to be appointed was George Marshall (1880–1959; US Army chief of staff 1939-1945) and it was thought “Marshal Marshall” would be a bit naff, something Joseph Heller’s (1923-1999) “Major Major” in Catch-22 (1961) would prove.

The quincunx induction system, the Cadillac Le Monstre and the 24 Heures du Mans, 1950

Living up to the name: The 1950 Cadillac Le Monstre.

The two Cadillacs which in 1950 raced at Le Mans were mechanically similar but visually, could have been from different planets.  The more conventional Petit Pataud was a Series 61 coupe with only minor modification and it gained its nickname (the translation “clumsy puppy” best captures the spirit) because to the French it looked a lumbering thing but, as its performance in the race would attest, Cadillac’s new 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8 (which would grow to 429 cubic inches (7.0 litres) before it was retired in 1967) meant it was faster than it looked.  Underneath the second entrant (Le Monstre obviously needing no translation but used in the sense of “monstrosity” rather than “large”) there was also a Series 61 but the body had been replaced by something more obviously aerodynamic although few, then or now, would call it “conventionally attractive”.  Although Le Monstre seemed very much in the tradition of the “cucumber-shaped” Mercedes-Benz SSKL which had won the 1932 race at Berlin’s unique AVUS circuit, the lines were the result of testing a one twelfth (Uncia in the Latin) scale wooden model in a wind-tunnel used usually to optimize the shape crop dusters and other slow-flying airplanes.  Presumably that explains the resemblance to a section of an airplane’s wing (a shape designed to encourage lift), something which would have been an issue had higher speeds been attained but even on the long (6 km (3.7 mile)) Mulsanne Straight, there was in 1950 enough power only to achieve around 210 km/h (130) mph although as a drag-reduction exercise it must have contributed to the 22 km/h (13 mph) advantage it enjoyed over Petit Pataud, something Le Monstre’s additional horsepower alone could not have done and remarkably, even with the minimalist aluminium skin it wasn’t much lighter than the standard-bodied coupe because this was no monocoque; the robust Cadillac chassis was retained with a tube-frame added to support the panels and provide the necessary torsional stiffness.

Le Monstre's 331 cubic inch V8 with its unusual (and possibly unique) five-carburetor induction system in a quincunx layout.

Some of the additional horsepower came from the novel "quincunx" induction system.  Le Monstre’s V8 was configured with five carburettors, the idea being that by use of progressive throttle-linkages, when ultimate performance wasn’t required the car would run on a single (central) carburettor, the other four summoned on demand and in endurance racing, improved fuel economy can be more valuable than additional power.  That’s essentially how most four-barrel carburettors worked, two venturi usually providing the feed with all four opened only at full throttle and Detroit would later refine the model by applying “méthode Le Monstre” to the triple carburettor systems many used between 1957-1971.  As far as is known, the only time a manufacturer flirted with the idea of a five carburetor engine was Rover which in the early 1960s was experimenting with a 2.5 (153 cubic inch) litre in-line five cylinder which was an enlargement of their 2.0 litre (122 cubic inch) four.  Fuel-injection was the obvious solution but the systems then were prohibitively expensive (for the market segment Rover was targeting) so the prototypes ended up with two carburettors feeding three cylinders and one the other two, an arrangement as difficult to keep in tune as it sounds.  Rover’s purchase of the aluminium 3.5 litre (214 cubic inch) V8 abandoned by General Motors (GM) meant the project was terminated and whatever the cylinder count, mass-produced fuel injection later made any configuration possible.  Five carburettors wasn’t actually the highest count seen in the pre fuel-injection era, Ferrari and Lamborghini both using six (done also by motorcycle manufacturers such as Honda and Benelli) and Moto-Guzzi in the 1950s fielded a 500 cm³ Grand-Prix bike with the memorable component count of 8 cylinders, 4 camshafts, 16 valves & 8 carburetors.  The early prototypes of Daimler’s exquisite hemi-head V8s (1959-1969) were also built with eight carburettors because the original design was based on a motorcycle power-plant, the reason why they were planned originally as air-cooled units.

Le Monstre ahead of Petit Pataud, Le Mans, 1950.  At the fall of the checkered flag, the positions were reversed. 

Motor racing is an unpredictable business and, despite all the effort lavished on Le Monstre, in the 1950 Le Mans 24 hour, it was the less ambitious Petit Pataud which did better, finishing a creditable tenth, the much modified roadster coming eleventh having lost many laps while being dug from the sand after an unfortunate excursion from the track.  Still, the results proved the power and reliability of Cadillac’s V8 and Europe took note: over the next quarter century a whole ecosystem would emerge, crafting high-priced trans-Atlantic hybrids which combined elegant European coachwork with cheap, powerful, reliable US V8s, the lucrative fun lasting until the first oil crisis began in 1973.

Peanut

Peanut (pronounced pee-nuht)

(1) The pod or the enclosed edible seed of the plant, Arachis hypogaea, of the legume family, native to the tropical Americas (and probably of South American origin).  During the plant’s growth, the pod is forced underground where it ripens.  The edible, nut-like seed is used for food and as a source of oil (historically known variously also as the pinder, pinda and goober (used south of the Mason-Dixon Line (originally as “goober pea)), earthnut, groundnut & monkey nut (pre-World War II (1939-1945) UK use).

(2) The plant itself.

(3) Any small or insignificant person or thing; something petty.

(4) In US slang, a very small clam.

(5) In slang, barbiturates (recorded also of other substances delivered in small pills).

(6) In slang, small pieces of Styrofoam used as a packing material (known also as the “packing peanut”).

(7) Of or relating to the peanut or peanuts.

(8) Made with or from peanuts.

1790–1800: The construct may have been pea (in the sense of the small green vegetable) + nut but may etymologists think it was more likely a folk etymology of pinda or pinder, both forms still in dialectal use south of the Mason-Dixon Line.  The plant is apparently native to South America and it was Portuguese traders who early in the sixteenth century took peanuts from Brazil and Peru to Africa by 1502.  Its cultivation in Chekiang (an eastern coastal province of China) was recorded as early as 1573 and the crop probably arrived with the Portuguese ships which docked there.  According to the broadcaster Alistair Cooke (1908–2004), The spellings pea nut & pea-nut are obsolete.  Peanut is a noun & verb. Peanutted & peanutting are verbs and peanutty & peanutlike are adjectives; the noun plural is peanuts.

The word appears in many aspects of modern culture including “circus peanut” (a type of commercial candy), “cocktail peanuts” (commercially packaged salted nuts served (for free) in bars to heighten thirst and thus stimulate beverage sales (also known generically as “beer nuts”)), “peanut butter” (a spread made from ground peanuts and known also as “peanut paste”), “peanut butter and jelly” (a sandwich made with jelly (jam or conserve) spread on one slice and peanut butter on the other), “small peanuts” (very small amount (always in the plural), “peanut milk” (a milky liquid made from peanuts and used as a milk substitute), peanut brittle (a type of brittle (confection) containing peanuts in a hard toffee), “peanut butter cup” (a chocolate candy with peanut butter filling), “peanut bunker” (a small menhaden (a species of fish)), “hog peanut” (a plant native to eastern North America that produces edible nut-like seeds both above & below ground (Amphicarpaea bracteata)), “peanut worm” ( sipunculid worm; any member of phylum Sipuncula. (Sipuncula spp), “peanut cactus” (a cactus of species Chamaecereus silvestrii), “peanut ball” (in athletics & strength training, an exercise ball comprised of two bulbous lobes and a narrower connecting portion), “peanut marzipan” (a peanut confection made with crushed peanuts & sugar, popular in Central & South America), “peanut whistle” (in the slang of the ham radio and citizens band (CB) radio communities, a low-powered transmitter or receiver, “peanut tree” (A tree of the species Sterculia quadrifida), “peanut-headed lanternfly” (In entomology, a species of Neotropical fulgorid planthopper (Fulgora laternaria)) and peanut tube (in electronics, a type of small vacuum tube).

Herbert (HW) Horwill’s (1864-1943) A Dictionary of Modern American Usage (1935) was written as kind of trans-Atlantic companion to Henry Fowler’s (1858–1933) classic A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) and was one of the earliest volumes to document on a systematic basis the variations and dictions between British and American English.  The book was a kind of discussion about the phrase “England and America are two countries separated by one language” attributed to George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950) although there are doubts about that.  Horwill had an entry for “peanut” which he noted in 1935 was common in the US but unknown in the UK where it was known as the “monkey nut”.  According to the broadcaster Alistair Cooke (1908–2004), the world “peanut” became a thing in the UK during the early 1940s when the US government included generous quantities of the then novel peanut butter in the supplies of foodstuffs included in the Lend-Lease arrangements.

In idiomatic use, the phrase “if you pay peanuts, you get monkeys” is used to suggest that if only low wages are offered for a role, high quality applicants are unlike to be attracted to the position.  The phrase “peanut gallery” is one of a number which have enter the language from the theatre.  The original Drury Lane theatre in London where William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) were staged was built on the site of a notorious cockpit (the place where gamecocks fought, spectators gambling on the outcome) and even before this bear and bull-baiting pits had been used for theatrical production of not the highest quality.  That’s the origin of the “pit” in this context being the space at the rear of the orchestra circle, the pit sitting behind the more desirable stalls.  By the Elizabethan era (1558-1603), the poor often sat on the ground (under an open sky) while the more distant raised gallery behind them contained the seats which were cheaper still; that’s the origin of the phrase “playing to the gallery” which describes an appeal to those with base, uncritical tastes although “gallery god” (an allusion to the paintings of the gods of antiquity which were on the gallery’s wall close to the ceiling) seems to be extinct.  The “peanut gallery” (the topmost (ie the most distant and thus cheapest) rows of a theatre) was a coining in US English dating from 1874 because it was the habit of the audience to cast upon to the stage the shells of the peanuts they’d been eating although whether this was ad-hoc criticism or general delinquency isn’t known.  The companion phrase was “hush money”, small denomination coins tossed onto the stage as a “payment” to silence an actor whose performance was judged substandard.  “Hush money” of course has endured to be re-purposed, now used of the payments such as the one made by Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021; president elect 2024) to Stormy Daniels (stage name of Stephanie Gregory, b 1979).

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

Joseph "Vinegar Joe" Stilwell (1883–1946) was a US Army general who was appointed chief of staff to the Chinese Nationalist Leader, Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek (1887-1975) (Generalissimo was a kind of courtesy title acknowledging his position as supreme leader of his armed forces; officially his appointment in 1935 was as 特級上將 (Tèjí shàng jiàng) (high general special class)).  Stilwell’s role was to attempt to coordinate the provision of US funds and materiel to Chiang with the objectives of having the Chinese Nationalist forces operate against the Imperial Japanese Army in Burma (now known usually as Myanmar).  Unfortunately, the generalissimo viewed the Chinese communists under Chairman Mao (Mao Zedong 1893–1976; chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1949-1976) as a more immediate threat than that of Nippon and his support for US strategy was no always wholehearted. 

So Stilwell didn’t have an easy task and in his reports to Washington DC referred to Chiang as “Peanut”.  Apparently, “peanut” had originally been allocated to Chiang as one of the army’s random code-names with no particular meaning but greatly it appealed to Stillwell who warmed to the metaphorical possibilities, once recorded referring to Chiang and his creaking military apparatus as “...a peanut perched on top of a dung heap...”  That about summed up Stillwell’s view of Chiang and his “army” and in his diary he noted a military crisis “would be worth it” were the situation “…just sufficient to get rid of the Peanut without entirely wrecking the ship…”  A practical man, his plans extended even to assassinating the generalissimo although these were never brought to fruition.  Eventually, Stilwell was recalled to Washington while Chiang fought on against the communists until 1949 when the Nationalists were forced to flee across the straits of Formosa to the Island of Taiwan, the “renegade province” defying the CCP in Beijing to this day.  Stillwell did have one final satisfaction before being sacked, in 1944 handing Chiang an especially wounding letter from Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, US president 1933-1945), the reaction so pleasing he was moved to write a poem:

I have waited long for vengeance,
At last I've had my chance.
I've looked the Peanut in the eye
And kicked him in the pants.
 
The old harpoon was ready
With aim and timing true,
I sank it to the handle,
And stung him through and through.
 
The little bastard shivered,
And lost the power of speech.
His face turned green and quivered
As he struggled not to screech.
 
For all my weary battles,
For all my hours of woe,
At last I've had my innings
And laid the Peanut low.
 
I know I've still to suffer,
And run a weary race,
But oh! the blessed pleasure!
I've wrecked the Peanut's face.

Phobias

One who suffers a morbid fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of one's mouth is said to be an arachibutyrophobe.  Phobias need not be widely diagnosed conditions; they need only be specific and, even if suffered by just one soul in the world, the criteria are fulfilled.  In this sense, phobias are analogous with syndromes.  A phobia is an anxiety disorder, an unreasonable or irrational fear related to exposure to certain objects or situations.  The phobia may be triggered either by the cause or an anticipation of the specific object or situation.

Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap (1998) introduced the culinary novelty of peanut butter spread on Oreos; an allure appalled arachibutyrophobes avoid.

The fifth edition of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5 (2013)) made some interesting definitional changes from the earlier DSM-4 (1994):  (1) A patient no longer needs to acknowledge their anxiety is excessive or unreasonable in order to receive a diagnoses, it being required only that their anxiety must be “out of proportion” to the actual threat or danger (in its socio-cultural context).  (2) Symptoms must now, regardless of age, last at least six months.  (3) The diagnostic criteria for social phobias no longer specify that age at onset must be before eighteen, a change apparently necessitated by the substantial increase in reporting by older adults with the DSM editors noting the six-month duration threshold exists to minimize the over-diagnosis of transient fears.

Whether it was already something widely practiced isn’t known but Lindsay Lohan is credited with introducing to the world the culinary novelty Oreos & peanut butter in The Parent Trap.  According to the director, it was added to the script “…for no reason other than it sounded weird and some cute kid would do it."  Like some other weirdnesses, the combination has a cult following and for those who enjoy peanut butter but suffer arachibutyrophobia, Tastemade have provided a recipe for Lindsay Lohan-style Oreos with a preparation time (including whisking) of 2 hours.  They take 20 minutes to cook and in this mix there are 8 servings (scale ingredients up to increase the number of servings).

Ingredients

2 cups flour
1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (plus more for dusting)
¾ teaspoon kosher salt
1 ¼ cups unsalted butter (at room temperature)
¾ cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Powdered sugar, for dusting

Filling Ingredients

½ cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
¼ cup unsweetened smooth peanut butter
1 ½ cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
A pinch of kosher salt (omit if using salted peanut butter)

Filling Instructions

(1) With a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, the butter & peanut butter until creamy.

(2) Gradually add powdered sugar and beat to combine, then beat in vanilla and salt.

Whisking the mix.

Instructions

(1) Preheat the oven to 325°F (160°C). Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

(2) In small bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa powder & salt.

(3) In a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.  Mix in the vanilla extract. With the mixer running on low speed, add the flour mixture and beat until just combined (it should remain somewhat crumbly).

(4) Pour mixture onto a work surface and knead until it’s “all together”; wrap half in plastic wrap and place in refrigerator.

(5) Lightly dust surface and the top of the dough with a 1:1 mixture of cocoa powder and powdered sugar.

(6) Working swiftly and carefully, roll out dough to a ¼-½ inch (6-12 mm) thickness and cut out 2 inch (50 mm) rounds.  Transfer them to the baking sheets, 1 inch (25 mm) apart (using a small offset spatula helps with this step). Re-roll scraps and cut out more rounds, the repeat with remaining half of the dough.

(7) Bake cookies until the tops are no longer shiny ( about 20 minutes), then cool on pan for 5 minutes before transferring to wire rack completely to cool.

(8) To assemble, place half the cookies on a plate or work surface.

(9) Pipe a blob of filling (about 2 teaspoons) onto the tops of each of these cookies and then place another cookie on top, pressing slightly but not to the extent filled oozes from the sides.

(10) Refrigerate for a few minutes to allow the filling to firm up.  Store in an air-tight container in refrigerator.

The manufacturer embraced the idea of peanut butter Oreos and has released versions, both with the classic cookie and a peanut butter & jelly (jam) variation paired with its “golden wafers”.  As well as Lindsay Lohan’s contribution, Oreos have attracted the interest of mathematicians.  Nabisco in 1974 introduced the Double Stuf Oreo, the clear implication being a promise the variety contained twice crème filling supplied in the original.  However, a mathematician undertook the research and determined Double Stuf Oreos contained only 1.86 times the volume of filling of a standard Oreo.  Despite that, the company survived the scandal and the Double Stuf Oreo’s recipe wasn’t adjusted.

Scandalous in its own way was that an April 2022 research paper published in the journal Physics of Fluids wasn’t awarded that year’s Ig Nobel Prize for physics, the honor taken by Frank Fish, Zhi-Ming Yuan, Minglu Chen, Laibing Jia, Chunyan Ji & Atilla Incecik, for their admittedly ground-breaking (or perhaps water-breaking) work in explaining how ducklings manage to swim in formation.  More deserving surely were Crystal Owens, Max Fan, John Hart & Gareth McKinley who introduced to physics the discipline of Oreology (the construct being Oreo + (o)logy).  The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism et al).  Oreology is the study of the flow and fracture of sandwich cookies and the research proved it is impossible to split the cream filling of an Oreo cookie down the middle.

An Oreo on a rheometer.

The core finding in Oreology was that the filling always adheres to one side of the wafer, no matter how quickly one or both cookies are twisted.  Using a rheometer (a laboratory instrument used to measure the way in which a viscous fluid (a liquid, suspension or slurry) flows in response to applied forces), it was determined creme distribution upon cookie separation by torsional rotation is not a function of rate of rotation, creme filling height level, or flavor, but was mostly determined by the pre-existing level of adhesion between the creme and each wafer.  The research also noted that were there changes to the composition of the filling (such as the inclusion of peanut butter) would influence the change from adhesive to cohesive failure and presumably the specifics of the peanut butter chosen (smooth, crunchy, extra-crunchy, un-salted (although the organic varieties should behave in a similar way to their mass-market equivalents)) would have some effect because the fluid dynamics would change.  The expected extent of the change would be appear to be slight but until further research is performed, this can’t be confirmed.