Gorp

Gorp (pronounced gawrp)

(1) Greedily to eat (obsolete).

(2) A mixture of nuts, raisins, dried fruits seeds and such, often packed as a high-energy snack by hikers, climbers and others undertaking strenuous outdoor activities.

(3) By extension, in the slang of late 1950s US automobile stylists (and subsequently their critics), the notion of adding many design elements to a car, even if discordant.

(4) In fashion criticism, an adoption of the automotive use, used to describe an excessive use of decorative items, especially if loosely fitted and inclined to “stray”.

Early 1900s: Of uncertain origin (in the sense of “greedily to eat”) but assumed by most etymologists to be a merging of gorge & gulp, the construct being gor(p) + (gul)p.  The mid-fourteenth century verb gorge (to eat with a display of greediness, or in large quantities) was from the Middle English gorgen (greedily to eat) and was from the Old French gorger & gorgier (which endures in modern French as gorger (greedily to eat; to gorge)), from gorge (throat).  The Middle English noun gorge (esophagus, gullet; throat; bird's crop; food in a hawk's crop; food or drink that has been take consumed) came directly from the Old French gorge (throat) (which endures in modern French as gorge (throat; breast)), from the Vulgar Latin gorga & gurga, from the Classical Latin gurges (eddy, whirlpool; gulf; sea), of uncertain origin but perhaps linked with the primitive Indo-European gwerhs- (to devour, swallow; to eat).  The English word was cognate with the Galician gorxa (throat), the Italian gorga & gorgia (gorge, throat (ravine long obsolete)), the Occitan gorga & gorja, the Portuguese gorja (gullet, throat; gorge) and the Spanish gorja (gullet, throat; gorge).  The duality of meaning in French meant the brassiere (bra) came to be called “un soutien-gorge (with derived forms such as “soutien-gorge de sport” (sports bra) with “soutif” the common colloquial abbreviation; the literal translation was thus “throat supporter” but it’s better understood as “chest uplifter”.

Lindsay Lohan gulping down a Pure Leaf iced tea; promotional image from the brand's “Time for a Tea Break” campaign.

The mid-fifteenth century noun gulp (eagerly (and often noisily) to swallow; swallow in large draughts; take down in a single swallow) was from the Middle English gulpen and probably from the West Flemish or Middle Dutch gulpen &, golpen, of uncertain origin.  Although not exactly onomatopoeic, the word may have been of imitative origin, or even an extension of meaning of the Dutch galpen (to roar, squeal) or the English galp & gaup (to gape).  It was related to the German Low German gulpen (to gush out, belch, gulp), the West Frisian gjalpe, gjalpje & gjealpje (to gush, spurt forth), the Danish gulpe & gylpe (to gulp up, disgorge), the dialectal Swedish glapa (to gulp down) and the Old English galpettan (to gulp down, eat greedily, devour).  The derived senses (to react nervously by swallowing; the sound of swallowing indicating apprehension or fear) may have been in use as early as the sixteenth century.  Gorp is a noun; the noun plural is gorps.  In fashion (technically perhaps “anti-fashion appropriated by fashion”) “gorpcore” describes the use as streetwear of outerwear either designed for outdoor recreation (in the sense of hiking, wilderness tracking etc) or affecting that style.  Exemplified by the ongoing popularity of the puffer jacket, gorpcore is something much associated with the COVID-19 pandemic but the look had by the time of the outbreak already been on-trend for more than a year.  The name comes from the stereotypical association of trail mix (gorp) with such outdoor activities.  The verbs gorping and gorped (often as “gorped-up”) were informal and used among stylists and critics when discussing some of Detroit’s excessively ornamented cars of the late 1950s & early 1960s.  Acronym Finder lists eleven GORPs including the two for trail-mix which seem peacefully to co-exist:

GORP: Great Outdoor Recreation Pages (a website).
GORP: Good Old Raisins and Peanuts (trail mix).
GORP: Granola, Oats, Raisins, and Peanuts (trail mix).
GORP: Garry Ork Restoration Project (An ecosystem restoration project in Saanich, Canada, designed to save the endangered Garry Oak trees, British Columbia’s only native oak species.
GORP: Georgia Outdoor Recreational Pass (Georgia Wildlife Resources Division).
GORP: Graduate Orthodontic Residents Program (University of Michigan; Ann Arbor).
GORP: Grinnell Outdoor Recreation Program (Grinnell College, Iowa)
GORP: Good Organic Retailing Practices.
GORP: Get Odometer Readings at the Pump.
GORP: Gordon Outdoor Recreation Project (Gordon College, Wenham, Massachusetts).
GORP: Growing Outdoor Recreation Professionals (University of California, Berkeley).

Lexicographers acknowledge the uncertainty of origin in the use of “gorp” to describe the mix of nuts, raisins, seeds and such in the packaged, high-energy snack now often known by the description most common in US commerce: “Trail mix”.  So common and conveniently packaged are the ingredients of gorp that doubtlessly variations of the combination have been carried by travellers since the origins of human movement over distance but the first known references to the concept to appear in print were seen in the “outdoors” themed magazines of the early twentieth century.  Deconstructed however, the notion of “high-energy, long-life, low volume” rations were for centuries a standard part of a soldier’s rations with different mixes used by land-based or naval forces, something dictated by availability and predicted rates of spoilage; as early as the seventeenth century, recommended combinations appeared in military manuals and quartermaster’s lists.  Not until the mid-1950s however is there any record of the stuff being described as “gorp” although the oft quoted formations: “Good Old Raisins and Peanuts” & “Granola, Oats, Raisins, and Peanuts” may both be backronyms.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, either left or right) and Erin Mackey (b 1986, either left or right), hiking scene in The Parent Trap (1998).  They would have packed some trail mix in their back-packs.

In various places around the planet, similar concoctions (the composition influenced by regional tastes and product availability) were described by different names including the antipodean scroggin or schmogle (the latter apparently restricted to New Zealand) and beyond the English-speaking world, there’s been a myriad of variants among those in schools or universities including “student mix”, “study mix”, “student fodder” & “student oats”.  That variety has faded as US linguistic imperialism has exerted its pull and even before the internet attained critical mass, the product name familiar in US supermarkets and grocery stores had begun to prevail: “Trail mix”.

Packaged gorp and trail mix.  Historically, gorp bars lived up to their name, a typical ingredients list including "peanuts, corn syrup, rasins, salt & lecithin" so commercially available gorp often was "the truth if not the whole truth".  Oddly, even when manufactured in disk-shapes, the product still tended to be described as a "bar".  With the contents of trail mix, there's been a bit of "mission creep" and the packaged product can now include chunks of chocolate and other stuff not envisaged in years gone by.

1958 Buick Special Convertible (left) and 1958 Buick Limited Convertible (right).If asked to nominate one from the list of usual suspects, many might pick Cadillac as the most accomplished purveyor of gorp but historians of the breed usually list the 1958 Buicks as "peak gorp" and for the sheer number and variety of decorative bits and pieces, it probably is unsurpassed.  Unfortunately for the division, a combination of circumstances meant between 1956 & 1958, Buick sales more than halved and while "excessive" gorp wasn't wholly to blame, after GM (General Motors) re-organized things, gorp never made a comeback quite as lavish.       

In automotive styling “gorp” is not synonymous with “bling” although there can be some physical overlap.  The word “bling” long ago enjoyed the now obsolete meaning “a want of resemblance” but in modern use it means (1) expensive and flashy jewelry, clothing, or other possessions, (2) the flaunting of material wealth and the associated lifestyle or (3) flashy; ostentatious.  It seems in these senses first to have been recorded in 1997 and is thought to be from the Jamaican English slang bling-bling, a sound suggested by the quality of light reflected by diamonds.  In the Caribbean, bling-bling came to be used to refer to flashy items (originally jewelry but later of any display of wealth) and the term was picked up in the US in African-American culture where it came to be associated with rap & hip-hop (forks of that community’s pop music) creators and their audiences.  There were suggestion the word bling was purely onomatopoeic (a vague approximation of pieces of jewelry clinking together) but most etymologists list it as one of the rare cases of a silent onomatopoeia: a word imitative of the imaginary sound many people “hear” at the moment light reflects off a sparkling diamond.  The long obsolete meaning “a want of resemblance” came from earlier changes in pronunciation when dissem′blance became pronounced variously as dissem′bler and dissem′ bling with bling becoming the slang form.  There is no relationship with the much older German verb blinken (to gleam, sparkle).

1958 Continental Mark III by Lincoln.

Some critics of design insist "gorp" (like "bling") really applies only to stuff "added on" (ie glued, screwed, bolted etc) but some claim there's no better word when discussing the cars which were a "mash-up" of disparate elements and there's no better example than the Ford Motor Company's (FoMoCo) 1958 Continental which was actually a "Lincoln with more stuff" but named simply "Continental" in the hope it would fool people into thinking it was an exclusive line following the genuinely unique Continental Mark II (1956-1957).  The Continental division had however been shuttered as another victim of the recession and the propaganda proved unequal to reality.  The Mark III's huge body (a remarkable technical achievement because even the convertibles were unit-bodies with no separate chassis) lingered for three dismally unsuccessful seasons and remains as the period's most confused agglomeration of motifs, a reasonable achievement given some of the weird creations Chrysler would release.  Although the sheer size does somewhat disguise the clutter, as one's eye wanders along the length, one finds slants and different angles, severe straight-lines, curves soft and sudden, scallops, fins and strakes.  On McMansions, it's not uncommon to find that many architectural traditions in on big suburban house but it's a rare count in one car.  Despite the diversity, it's not exactly "post-modernism in metal" so even if a re-purposing, "gorp" seems to fit.

In the English-speaking world, bling & bling-bling began to appear in dictionaries early in the twenty-first century.  Many languages picked up bling & bling-bling unaltered but among the few localizations were the Finnish killuttimet and the Korean beullingbeulling (블링블링) and there was also the German blinken (to blink, flashing on & off), a reference to the gleam and sparkle of jewels and precious metals.  Blinken was from the Low German and Middle Low German blinken, from the root of blecken (to bare) and existed also in Dutch.  As viral-words sometimes do, bling begat some potentially useful (and encouraged) derivations including blingesque, blingtastic, blingbastic blingiest, blingest, a-bling & blingistic; all are non-standard forms and patterns of use determine whether such pop-culture constructs endure.  Bling & blinger are nouns, blinged, blingish, blingy & blingless are adjectives, bling-out, blinged-out & bling-up are verbs; the noun plural is blingers (bling and bling-bling being both singular & plural).

Gingerbread: 1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) in chestnut tufted leather though not actually “fine Corinthian leather” which was (mostly) exclusive to the Cordoba (1975-1983) until late 1975 when not only did the Imperial's brochures mention "genuine Corinthian leather (available at extra cost)" but for the first time since 1954 the range was referred to as the "Chrysler Imperial", a harbinger the brand was about to be retired.  Imperial's advertising copy noted of the brochure photograph above: “...while the passenger restraint system with starter interlock is not shown, it is standard on all Imperials.”; the marketing types didn't like seat-belts messing up their photos.  While all of the big three (GM, Ford & Chrysler) had tufted interiors in some lines, it was Chrysler which displayed the most commitment to the gingerbread motif.  After 1958, exterior gorp, while it didn't every entirely go away, it did go into decline but in the mid 1960s, as increasingly elaborate and luxurious interiors began to appear in the higher-priced models of even traditionally mass-market marques, those who disapproved of this latest incarnation of excess needed a word which was both descriptive and dismissive.  The use "gorp" might have been misleading and according to the authoritative Curbside Classic (which called the trend the start of "the great brougham era"), the word of choice was "gingerbread" and truly that was bling's antecedent.

In the stylists’ (they weren’t yet “designers”) studios in the 1950s, what would come to be called “bling” certainly existed (and in the “age of chrome” was very shiny) but the idea of gorp was different in that it was quantitative and qualitative, the notion of adding to a design multiple decorative elements or motifs, even if this meant things clashed (which sometimes they did).  Why this happened has been debated but most historians of the industry have concluded it was the result of the unexpected, post-war boom which delivered to working and middle-class Americans a prosperity and wealth of consumer goods the like of which no mass-society had ever known.  In material terms, “ordinary” Americans (ie wage and salary earners), other than in measures like the provision of servants or hours of leisure, were enjoying luxuries, conveniences and an abundance unknown even to royalty but a few generations earlier.  Accordingly, noting the advice that the way to “avoid gluts was to create a nation of gluttons” (a concept used also in many critiques of rampant consumerism), the US car industry, awash with cash and seeing nothing in the future but endless demand, resolved never to do in moderation what could be done in excess and as well as making their cars bigger and heavier, began to use increasing rococo styling techniques; wherever there appeared an unadorned surface, the temptation was to add something and much of what was added came casually to be called “gorp”, based on the idea that, like the handy snack, the bits & pieces bolted or glued on were a diverse collection and, in the minds of customers, instantly gratifying.  Gorp could include chrome strips, fake external spare tyre housings, decorative fender and hood (bonnet) accessories which could look like missiles, birds of prey in flight or gunsights, the famous dagmars, fake timber panels, moldings which recalled the shape of jet-engine nacelles, taillights which resembled the exhaust gasses from the rockets of spacecraft (which then existed mostly in the imagination) and more.

A young lady wearing gorpcore, Singapore, 2022.  Along with Kuwait, Hong Kong, Monaco and Vatican City, Singapore is listed by demographers as "100% urbanized" but it's good always to be prepared.

Had any one of these items been appended as a feature it might well have become a focus or even an admired talking point but that wasn’t the stylistic zeitgeist and in the studios they may have been reading the works of the poet Matthew Arnold (1822-1888) who attributed to Benjamin Disraeli (1804–1881; UK prime- minister 1868 & 1874-1880) a technique he claimed the prime-minister adopted during his audiences with Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901): “Everyone likes flattery and when you come to royalty, you should lay it on with a trowel”.  Detroit in the late 1950s, certainly laid on the gorp with a trowel and the men and women (there was in the era the odd woman employed in the studios, dealing typically with interiors or color schemes) were students also of the pamphlet Ending the Depression Through Planned Obsolescence, published in 1932 by US real estate broker (and confessed Freemason) Bernard London (b circa 1873 but his life is something of a mystery) and in the post-war years came the chance to put the theory to the test.  This meant not only was there much gorp but each year there had to be “different” gorp so the churn rate was high. Planned obsolescence began as a casual description of the techniques used in advertising to stimulate demand and thus without the negative connotations which would attach when it became part of the critique of materialism, consumerism and the consequential environmental destruction.  Like few before or since, the US car industry quickly perfected planned obsolescence and not content with “annual model changes” sometimes added “mid-season releases” thus rendering outdated something purchased only months earlier.  Unfortunately, just as “peak gorp” began with the release late in 1957 (replete with lashings of chrome and much else) of the 1958 ranges, an unexpected and quite sharp recession struck the American economy and a new mood of austerity began.  That would pass because the downturn, while unpleasant, was by the standard of post-war recessions, relative brief although the effects on the industry would be profound, structurally and financially.

1970 Plymouth 'Cuda AAR in Lemon Twist over Black.  The AAR stood for All American Racers, the teams which campaigned the 'Cuda in the Trans-Am series for 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) modified production cars.

Not all "added-on" stuff can however be classed as "gorp", "bling" or "gingerbread" and the most significant threshold is "functionalism"; if stuff actually fulfils some purpose, it's just a fitting.  Thus the additional stuff which appeared on the 1970 Plymouth AAR ’Cuda (and the companion Dodge Challenger T/A) were “fittings” because they all fulfilled some purpose, even if the practical effect away from race tracks was sometimes marginal.  Added to the pair was (1) a fibreglass hood (bonnet) with functional air-intake scoop, (2) front and rear spoilers, (3) side outlet dual exhaust system, (4) hood locking pins and (5) staggered size front & rear wheels.  Of course, there were also “longitudinal strobe stripes” which did nothing functional but that seems a minor transgression and in the world of stripes, there have been many worse. 

Nurdle

Nurdle (pronounced nhur-dl)

(1) In cricket, to work the ball away gently, especially to the leg side, gently nudging the delivery into vacant spaces on the field; such a shot played.

(2) In conversation, gently to waffle or muse on a subject about which once obviously knows little.

(3) In manufacturing, a pre-production micro-plastic pellet about the size of a pea, the raw material used in the manufacture of plastic products.

(4) In marine ecology as plastic resin pellet pollution (PRPP); marine debris.

(5) The depiction of a wave-shaped blob of toothpaste sitting on a toothbrush.

(6) That which is squeezed from tube to toothbrush.

(7) In the game of tiddlywinks (as nurdling), sending an opponent's wink too close to the pot to score easily. 

Circa 1968: In the context of cricket, it’s of unknown origin but presumably some sort of blend, influenced possibly by “nerd” & “nudge”, the meaning conveyed being a style of play that is cautious, unambitious and unexciting; the slow accumulation of a score; there’s been the suggestion of a link with “noodle” but it’s hard to see the connection and there's no documentary evidence.  The earliest known citation is a 1985 match report in The Times (London).  The small, cylindrical pellets, the raw material of the manufacturing processes of many plastic products, have been called nurdles since at least the 1970s, a reference from that time noted in the manuals supplied with an injection-molding machine.  The word is likely to have been coined either because of the physical similarity of the pellets to some types of noodle or as a variation of nodule (a small node or knot) and plastic nurdles have for decades been recorded as a significant proportion of marine pollution.  As used to describe the toothbrush-length squirt of toothpaste as it sits atop the bristles, the origin is murky but may be linked to nodule.  There have been suggestions the use by the ADA (American Dental Association) in the 1990s in a public-service advertising campaign about the correct technique for brushing may have been the coining but the word was used in toothpaste advertising as early as 1968 although the original spelling seems for some time to have been “nerdle”.  Nurdle is a noun & verb and nurdled & nurdling are verbs; the noun plural is nurdles.  The adjective nurdlesque is non-standard but has been used by at least one cricket commentator not impressed by a batsman's slot selection.

The Triple Action: The Great Nurdle Affair

Previously little discussed before courts, the nurdle received some brief attention when a trademark-infringement lawsuit (Colgate-Palmolive Co v. GlaxoSmithKline LLC, US District Court, Southern District of New York, No. 10-05728) was filed in July 2010 by GlaxoSmithKline (GSK), makers of Aquafresh “Triple Protection” toothpaste, against Procter & Gamble (P&G), owners of the Colgate “Triple Action” brand.  Almost immediately, P&G counter-sued in the same court with the retaliatory GlaxoSmithKline LLC v. Colgate-Palmolive, No. 10-05739.  One was seeking, inter alia, the exclusive right to depict a nurdle, the other claiming the image was so generic the right could be exercised by anyone.

Battle of the nurdles: P&G's Colgate Triple Action (top) and GSK's Aquafresh Triple Protection (bottom).

The disputes hinged on “triple” as a descriptor and “nurdle”, not as a word but as the image of a wave-shaped blob of toothpaste sitting atop the bristles on the head of a toothbrush.  GSK's core argument was that it held trademark registrations on both “triple protection” and a red, white & blue-striped nurdle.  P&G argued “triple protection” was weak and that a nurdle is inherently merely descriptive because it is but a literal image of the product.  What the court had to decide was whether a reasonable consumer, on seeing the nurdle and “triple action” text description on packages of Colgate toothpaste, could be sufficiently misled to believe what they were looking at was sourced, sponsored or endorsed by GSK which used both on their Aguafresh brand.

GSK’s nurdle.

In a filing of some eighty pages, P&G noted its recent release in the US of a toothpaste with packaging which superimposes the words “Triple Action” (the implication being (1) cavity protection, (2) fresh breath & (3), whiter teeth) atop a blue, white and green nurdle.  In response, GSK, which used the “Triple Protection” phrase on its Aquafresh products, filed a trademark application for the "nurdle design" regardless of color; this induced P&G to sue to enforce its rights to use the nurdle.  P&G further noted GSK did not file their application until after they had already complained about P&G’s nurdle design and suggested GSK was using the process to stifle competition by asserting an excessively broad scope for trademark rights.

P&G’s nurdles, registered by Colgate as trademarks. 

GSK’s filing was only half the length and accused P&G of adopting various nurdle designs and the “Triple Action” mark in an effort to “trade off the commercial magnetism” of GSK own packaging which had since 1987 included a distinctive red, white and blue nurdle, an argument which implied elements of both usurpation and ambush marketing.  P&G asked the court to declare its “Triple Action” phrase and interpretation of the nurdle not confusingly similar to GSK’s own “Triple Protection” phrase and nurdle which used distinctively different colors.  It sought also have the court (1) cancel GSK’s “Triple Protection” and nurdle trademark registrations and (2), deny such injunctive relief that would have prevented P&G from using any nurdle design and a phrase containing “triple”.  Damages were sought on several grounds including punitive damages.  It was a case of some commercial significance given GSK had deployed the nurdle as a cartoon character in a marketing campaign aimed at children, the idea being that if children pestered their parents enough to buy Aquafresh for them, it was likely they’d gain the whole family as a conquest (a lesson well learned by countless manufacturers).  The nurdle campaign ran on Nurdle World in the US and The Nurdle Shmurdle in the UK.

Post settlement: Colgate Triple Action with a visually different nurdle.

Late in 2011, the parties announced a notice of settlement had been filed in the court; a confidential settlement had been negotiated.  The details have never been made public but a review of supermarket shelves suggests (1) the red, white & blue GSK nurdle is acknowledged to be propriety, (2) a nurdle nevertheless remains generic and can be depicted as long as it is sufficiently distinguished from GSK’s 1987 original and (3) things claiming to be of or pertaining to happening in threes may be described as “triple” whatever but, in the context of toothpaste, “triple protection” is a GSK trademark.  P&G could thus display a nurdle, just not GSK’s nurdle.  So, as a private settlement, there’s no change to established law but those inhabiting that gray area between ambush marketing and actual deceptive and misleading conduct no doubt took note.  A judge might anyway find the outcome in accordance with the operation of trademark law: a trademarked image as specific as the GSK nurdle is entitled to protection but, as a general principle, a word as notoriously common as “triple” is the property of the commons available to all.

Doramad Radioactive Toothpaste.

In Germany, between the 1920s and the end of World War II (1939-1945), nurdles could be radio-active, toothpaste there sold with trace amounts for thorium obtained from monazite sands, the promotional material of which read: “Increases the defenses of teeth and gums” & “Gently polishes the dental enamel, so it turns white and shiny”.  Although known since at least the mid-1920s, it was only in the aftermath of the A-bomb attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki (1945) that the adverse effects of ionizing radiation in high or sustained does became widely recognized, rendering radio-active toothpaste an undesirable product in the minds of mothers everywhere.  Although radio-active toothpaste sounds evil, the Nazis can't be blamed for it being on the shelves, its debut dating from the Weimar Republic (1918-1933).  

Save Paste structural concept for toothpaste packaging.

From the days when folk made their own toothpaste by mixing water, salt and the soot from chimneys, toothpaste has become one of the sometimes unacknowledged markers of civilized life.  The packaging though has been little changed since 1889 when J&J (Johnson & Johnson) introduced their range in collapsible metal tubes.  The switch from metal to plastic happened over decades, necessitated initially by wartime shortages but by the 1990s, tubes were almost universally plastic.  Despite that, the fundamental design remained unchanged and was often inherently inefficient, supplied in a cardboard box, much of the internal capacity of which was unused because of the shape of the tube.  The design added cost and induced adverse environmental outcomes because (1) the box was unnecessary and immediately discarded and (2), the surplus volume added to the costs of storage and transportation.  One interesting suggestion has been the trapezoidal package.

By using a single cardboard container as both collapsible container and display packaging, it eliminates the need for a separate box.  Also, if designed with the correct geometry, multiple trapezoidal containers can more efficiently be packed for transportation and storage, thereby reducing the energy expended.  This simple trick of packaging. if extended to all products sold in tubes should result in a significant reduction in energy consumption (road, rail and air transport) and therefore in greenhouse emissions.  Additionally, the carboard is more easily recycled than plastic. 

One thing toothpaste manufacturers seem never anxious to discuss is the opinion of many experts that GSK’s classic nurdle, extending the length of the brush-head, is way too much and adults should instead use a nurdle no bigger than a pea.  Restraint when squeezing out a nurdle for children should be even more severe because of the risk when young of swallowing too much toothpaste containing fluoride: it increases the risk dental fluorosis, a cosmetic condition that affects the appearance of the teeth, ranging from brown and light discoloration to darker strains and even pitting.  On a very young child’s brush, rather than a plump nurdle, the toothpaste should just be a smear although they can use an adult's pea-sized nurdle after the age of three.  The BDA (British Dental Association) summarize best practice by recommending: (1) the correct amount of toothpaste for most people to use is a pea size, (2) brush at least twice daily, with a fluoridated toothpaste, brush last thing at night and at least on one other occasion; if possible brush after every meal, (3) use a fluoridated toothpaste (1,350–1,500 ppm fluoride) and (4), spit out after brushing and do not rinse (this maintains the fluoride concentration level).

Have nurdle, will brush: Lindsay Lohan on the set of HBO's Eastbound & Down (2013), brushing teeth while smoking.

It's an unusual combination but might work OK if one smokes a menthol cigarette and uses a nurdle of mint toothpaste; other combinations might clash.  That said, those adventurous enough to experiment and with the patience to shop internationally for toothpaste can try alternative flavours of nurdle and work out which best combines with their tobacco of choice.  Telford Dentistry undertook a survey and discovered manufacturers have used various recipes to concoct an extraordinary range of choices beyond the familiar mint.  The offerings in the EU (European Union) appear to be regionally specific with sweetness increasing as one heads south but licorice, salt, eucalyptus and ratanhia root may all available on-line.  The UK seems to be less adventurous with plain or mint variants almost universal although there are brands offering eucalyptus and it’s tempting to believe dour highland Scots still prefer the traditional mix of soot & salt.  In the US, there’s definitely a national sweet tooth because cinnamon, vanilla, bubblegum and a range of “novelty flavours” (birthday cake, bacon cucumber-dil and Pickle!) are advertised, often targeted at children (or, more accurately, their parents), encouraging them to brush by making the nurdles taste like candy.  East of Suez there’s much variety.  In Japan, there’s matcha, yuzu, wasabi and charcoal while Indian retailers offer neem, clove, miswak, and tulsi and in South East Asia and beyond there’s probably the most delicious sounding variety including Mango, Coconut, Clove Oil, & Betel Leaf.

Mnemonic

Mnemonic (pronounced ni-mon-ik)

(1) Something assisting or intended to assist the memory.

(2) Pertaining to mnemonics or to memory.

(3) In computing, truncated code thought easy to remember (eg STO for store).

1660–1670: From the New Latin mnemonicus from the Ancient Greek μνημονικός (mnēmonikós) (of memory) derived from μνήμων (mnḗmōn) (remembering, mindful) & μνᾶσθαι (mnâsthai) (to remember); the ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European men (to think).  The meaning "aiding the memory", a back-formation from mnemonics dates from 1753, the noun meaning "mnemonic device" is from 1858.  The use in computer programming emerged in the early days of code and was a space-saving (eg del rather than delete) tool as well.  Mnemonical was the original form from the 1660s.  One of the charming ironies of mnemonic is it is one of those words so many can't quite remember how to spell.  It's thus in a sense "antimnemonic" and a contronym (also as auto-antonym, antagonym, or enantiodrome) which describes a word with two opposite or contradictory meanings, depending on context.  Mnemonic is a noun & adjective, mnemonician, mnemonicalist, mnemotechnist & mnemonicon are nouns, mnemonize & mnemonized are verbs, mnemonical & mnemotechnic are adjectives and mnemonically & mnemotechnically are adverbs; the noun plural is mnemonics.

Sans Forgetica

Sans Forgetica sample text.

Recently released, Sans Forgetica (which translates as "without forgetting") is a sans-serif font developed by RMIT University in Melbourne.  Back-slanted and with gaps in the character constructions, it’s designed explicitly to assist readers better to understand and retain in their memory what they’ve read.  Perhaps counter-intuitively for those outside the field, the shape is intended to reduce legibility, thereby (1) lengthening the tame taken to read the text and (2) adding complexity to learning and absorbing what’s been read.  Together, they create what in cognitive psychology and neuroscience is called "desirable difficulty", in this case forcing (RMIT might prefer "nudging") people to concentrate.

The first three paragraphs of Lindsay Lohan's Wikipedia page, rendered in Sans Forgetica.  Sans was from the Middle English saunz & sans, from the Old French sans, senz & sens, from the Latin sine (without) conflated with absēns (absent, remote).   Forgetica was an opportunistic coining, the construct being forget + -ica.  Forget was from the Middle English forgeten, forgiten, foryeten & forȝiten, from the Old English forġietan (to forget) (which was influenced by the Old Norse geta (to get; to guess), from the Proto-West Germanic fragetan (to give up, forget).  The -ica suffix was from the Latin -ica, the neuter plural of -icus (belonging to derived from; of or pertaining to; connected with).

From usually a young age, readers become skilled at scanning text, a process helped by most publishers seeking to render their works as legible as possible.  The theory of desirable difficulty is that omitting parts of the font requires the reader to pause and process information more slowly, thus provoking an additional cognitive processing which may enhance both understanding and retention.  While the application of the science to a font is novel, there’s nothing original about Sans Forgetica as a piece of typography, it being described as a hybrid of several existing schools and within the theory, on the basis of a small-group sample of students, it’s claimed to be a balance between legibility and difficulty.  According to the documents supplied by the developer, it’s not been tested as a device for advertisers to draw people to their text, the theory of that being people scan and dismiss (without retention) the great bulk of the large, static signage which is a feature of just about every urban environment.  With Sans Forgetica, because it can’t as quickly be scanned, people will tend longer to linger and so more carefully read the whole; a memorable event itself.

The most recent revision (DSM-5-TR (2022)) to the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) followed DSM-5 (2013) in refining the somewhat vague section on amnesia in both the DSM-IV (1994) & DSM-IV-TR (2000) where appeared the terms “Psychogenic amnesia” & “dissociative amnesia”, the core element of which was: “one or more episodes of inability to recall important personal information, usually of a traumatic or stressful nature, that is too extensive to be explained by ordinary forgetfulness.”  That really reflected the popular understanding and there was no clear definition of sub-types in the diagnostic criteria although in the text (not always in criteria) there was mention of localized, selective or generalized forms.  In the fifth edition, the disorder was called Dissociative Amnesia (psychogenic amnesia seems to have been replaced) and it was listed in the dissociative disorders section.  The definition still includes an “inability to recall important autobiographical information, usually of a traumatic or stressful nature, that is inconsistent with ordinary forgetting” so the popular understanding remains acknowledged but sub-types are now listed: localized (for specific event(s)), selective (some parts of the event), or generalized (identity and life history) amnesia.  Consistent with the structural revisions elsewhere in the fifth edition, the exclusion criteria was made more explicit (ie the memory loss should not be due to substances, medication, a neurological condition or better accounted for by another mental disorder) although clinician remain aware of overlap.  Significantly the DSM-5 did clarify that amnesia is retrograde (loss of pre-existing memories), especially of autobiographical kind and emphasised the memory loss is “beyond what is expected from normal forgetting.”  Because in such matters, there will be so much variation between patients, it remains one of those conditions with fuzzy boundaries and the symptoms presented must be assessed on a case-by-case basis.

Amnesia (memory loss) is much studied and although associated with the aging process, traumatic events (brain injury or psychological impacts) and certain neurological conditions, there have been some celebrated cases of recovery without medical intervention.  One celebrated case was that of Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi Deputy Führer 1933-1941) who in 1941 (on the eve of Germany invading the USSR) flew himself to Scotland in a bizarre and unauthorized attempt to negotiate a peace deal with those in the UK he though would be "reasonable men".    His "offer" was rejected and he was locked up (including two weeks in the Tower of London), later to be sent as a defendant before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) in the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946).  There, so convincing were his symptoms of amnesia and other mental states the judges requested submissions from defence and prosecution counsel on the matter of his fitness to stand trial.  The prosecutors assured the bench Hess would be able to both understand and cope with the proceedings and that an imperfect memory was merely a hindrance to his defence rather than an insuperable obstacle.  This was of course a predictable argument and the judges acceded to the defence’s request for a thorough medical investigation although they declined the suggestion Swiss doctors be consulted, assembling instead a team from medical staff on hand (three Soviet, three American, three British and one French), all from the nations running the trial.  The physicians presented four national papers which broadly were in agreement: Hess was sane (as legally defined) but was suffering from hysterical amnesia, induced by his need to escape from uncomfortable realities, something they found was often typical of “those with Hess’s unstable personality”.  All concluded the amnesia was temporary and would vary in intensity, the US doctors suggesting it may even disappear were any threat of punishment removed.

Caricature of Rudolf Hess at the first Nuremberg Trial by New Zealand-born UK cartoonist David Low (1891-1963).

The author Rebecca West (1892–1983) covered the trial as a journalist and wrote some vivid thumbnail sketches, noting of Hess: “Hess was noticeable because he was so plainly mad: so plainly mad that it seemed shameful that he should be tried.  His skin was ashen and he had that odd faculty, peculiar to lunatics, of falling into strained positions which no normal person could maintain for more than a few minutes, and staying fixed in contortion for hours. He had the classless air characteristic of asylum inmates; evidently his distracted personality had torn up all clues to his past.  He looked as if his mind had no surface, as if every part of it had been blasted away except the depth where the nightmares live.”  Whether or not Hess was "mad" (as such folk were described in 1946) can be debated but to many at the time, he certainly looked a madman.

Predictably unconvinced, Hess’s counsel at a hearing on 30 November 1945 told the bench a defendant could hardly stage an adequate defence if unable to remember names or incidents vital to his case, adding that on the basis of discussions with his client, even if he understood the words, Hess was incapable of grasping the significance of the charges against him.  Nor would a trial in absentia be fair because it would constituent a “grave injustice” were a defendant not present to give evidence or challenge the testimony of witnesses.  He concluded by requesting proceedings against him should be suspended and resumed only if his condition significantly improved.  To that, the British countered with a lengthy lecture on the distinctions in English law between amnesia & insanity and seconded the Soviet view that participation in the trial (and thus the need to make a defence) might well cure his condition.  Essentially, the British argued if he could follow the proceedings, he was fit to stand trial.  The US team noted Hess had at times claimed to be suffering amnesia while in captivity in England between 1941-1945 and on other occasions admitted the condition was simulated.  In the slang of the English criminal bar: “He had a bit of previous”.  The Americans also expressed annoyance at him having repeatedly refused any of the treatment prescribed by the Allied doctors, concluding: “He is in the volunteer class with his amnesia”.  The lawyers having finished, the IMT asked Hess if he wished to speak on the matter.  Without delay, he rose in the dock and walked to the microphone where he addressed the court in a clear and calm voice, his statement coherent, unambiguous and, most historians have concluded, clearly premeditated: “Henceforth my memory will again respond to the outside world.  The reasons for simulating loss of memory were of a tactical nature.  Only my ability to concentrate is, in fact, somewhat reduced.  But my capacity to follow the trial, to defend myself, to put questions to witnesses, or to answer questions myself is not affected thereby.  I also simulated loss of memory in consultations with my officially appointed defence counsel. He has therefore represented in good faith.”

He then sat down in what was described as a “stunned courtroom”.  It was at that point the trial’s most sensational moment and after taking a few seconds to digest things, the assembled press pack in their dozens rushed outside to file the story (the US military newspaper Stars and Stripes ran the punchy headline “Hess Nuts. Fake Story Fake”).  Immediately, the president of the IMT adjourned the session and the judges went into private session to decide whether Hess should be tried.  From their subsequent interviews and writings it appears they were not much influenced by Hess’s unexpected statement but were impressed by the similarity of the conclusions offered by the doctors, the chief US prosecutor saying such “unanimity of medical opinion” was, in his experience: “historically unique”.  All eight judges agreed Hess was fit to stand trial and, after being convicted on two counts ((1) conspiracy to wage aggressive war and (2) waging aggressive war), he was handed a life sentence and would remain incarcerated until in 1987 he committed suicide after some 46 years behind bars, the last two decades of which were served as the sole inmate (guarded by dozens of soldiers on rotation from France, the UK, US and USSR) of Berlin’s sprawling Spandau Prison, a huge facility designed to incarcerate hundreds.

Low’s take on the official German line explaining Hess deserting the German government as “madness”.  This cartoon does represent what was then the prevailing public perception of the typical appearance expected of those in “lunatic asylums”.  Depicted (left to right) are:

Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945): Committed suicide by by crushing between his teeth an ampule of a potassium cyanide (KCN), smuggled into his cell in circumstances never confirmed, shortly before he was to be hanged after being convicted on all four counts ((1) Conspiracy to wage aggressive war; (2) Waging aggressive war; (3) War crimes and (4) Crimes against humanity.

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945): With his wife Eva (née Braun; 1912–1945) of a few hours, committed suicide (he by gunshot and KCN, she by KCN alone) with the tanks of the Red Army only a couple of blocks from the Berlin Führerbunker.

Dr Robert Ley (1890–1945; head of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront (German Labour Front) 1933-1945): Before the trial began, he committed suicide by hanging (by means of suffocation) himself from the toilet-pipe in his cell in Nuremberg, after having for some years made a reasonable attempt to drink himself to death.  He died with his underpants stuffed in his mouth, decades before the phrase "Eat my shorts!" began to circulate in popular culture.

Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945): Hanged at Nuremberg after being convicted on all four counts.

Dr Joseph Goebbels: With his wife (Magda Goebbels (née Ritschel; 1901-1945), committed suicide (by gunshot) in the courtyard above the Führerbunker, shortly after they’d murdered their six young children.

Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945): Captured by the British while attempting to escape disguised as a soldier, he committed suicide using an ampule of KCN concealed in his mouth.

Whether Hess was at any point insane (in the legal or medical sense) remains debated although, as is often the case, more interesting still is the speculation about just when the instability began.  Whether any credence can be attached to the official statement on the matter from the Nazi Party is doubtful but in the view of Reich Chancellery, his madness predated his flight to Scotland in 1941 (one of the strangest incidents of World War II (1939-1945)).  What the German press was told to publish was that Hess had become "deluded and deranged", his mental health affected by injuries sustained during World War I (1914-1918) and that he'd fallen under the influence of astrologers.  Just to make that sound convincing, the police conducted a crackdown (a well oiled technique in the Nazi state) on soothsayers and fortune-tellers.  Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945) wasn't consulted before the "madness" explanation was announced and he seems to have been the only senior figure in the regime to grasp the potential implications of revealing to the public that for some time the country's deputy leader had been mad.  Others though did make the connection.  When Hermann Göring tried to shift the blame to aircraft designer and manufacturer Willy Messerschmitt (1898–1978) because he'd provided Hess a twin-engined Bf 110 Zerstörer (destroyer (heavy fighter)) for his flight, the engineer responded by saying Göring was more culpable because he should have done something about having someone unstable serving as Deputy Führer.  Göring could only laugh and told Messerschmitt to go back to building warplanes and, as it turned out, the strange affair was but a "nine day wonder" for not only did the British make no attempt to use Hess's arrival on their soil for propaganda purposes (which astonished Goebbels) but other events would soon dominate the headlines.  The only place where the strange flight left a great impression was in the Kremlin where comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) for years mulled over who within the British establishment might have conspired with Hess to allow the UK to withdraw from the conflict, leaving Germany able to invade Russia without having to fight on two fronts.  Historians have concluded the reluctance by the British to use for propaganda the arrival of Hess was their concern comrade Stalin might suspect collusion. 

Arthur Sinodinos, b 1957; Liberal Party functionary and minister variously 2007-2019; Australian ambassador to the US 2019-2023, right ) presenting to Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025, left) his credentials as Australia's ambassador to the US, the White House, Washington DC, February 2020.

Less dramatic but perhaps medically even more remarkable than the Hess affair was the recovery from amnesia by Arthur Sinodinos, a case which deserves to enter the annals of academic psychiatry & neurology (and debatably, those of the thespians).  In Australia, royal commissions are public investigations, established by but independent of government.  Not a court, royal commissions are created to enquire into matters of public importance and, within their terms of reference, have broad powers to conduct public & in camera hearings; they can call witnesses, compelling them (under oath) to provide testimony and they deliver recommendations to government about what should be done, consequent upon their findings.  These can include recommendations for legislative or administrative changes and the prosecution of institutions or individuals and they’re of great interest because they appear to be the only institution (at least theoretically) able to compel a politician to tell the truth.  Even that power is limited though because when appearing before royal commissions, politicians seem especially prone to suffering amnesia, an obviously distressing condition which compels them frequently to utter phrases like “I can’t remember”, “I don’t recall”, “not in my recollection” etc.  In the lore of the New South Wales (NSW) bar, Mr Sinodinous, while in 2014 being questioned by an enquiry, is believed to have set a record for the frequency with which the condition manifested.  Fortunately, the enquiry handed down no adverse findings against him and almost immediately, his memory appeared miraculously to recover, enabling the Australian Liberal Party government to appoint him ambassador to the US in 2019 so there's that.  The following transcript is wholly fake news:

Donald Trump: "What did you and Joe Biden talk about?"

Arthur Sinodinous: "I can't remember."

Donald Trump: "Not to worry, he won't remember either."

In the rich slang of the NSW bar, the condition once known as RCM (Royal Commission Memory) is now also referred to as “Sinodinos Syndrome”, on the model of “Marcinkus Syndrome” which describes the medical status of Roman Catholic priests who, being investigated for this, that or the other, although seemingly fit and healthy, are never able to be certified quite well enough to be interviewed by police or other authorities.  The condition is named after Archbishop Paul Marcinkus (1922–2006; President of the Institute for the Works of Religion (the “Vatican Bank’) 1971-1989).