Refusenik

Refusenik (pronounced ri-fyooz-nik)

(1) In (originally) informal use, a citizen of the USSR (the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, 1922-1991), a Soviet citizen (usually Jewish) who was denied permission to emigrate from the Soviet Union (usually to Israel).

(2) By extension, a person who refuses to cooperate with a system or comply with a law as a matter of political principle or because of a moral conviction.

Circa 1975: The construct was refuse + -nik.  The Russian отказник (otkáznik), the construct of which was отка́з (otkáz) (refusal, denial, repudiation, rejection, nonsuit; renunciation, disavowal; breakdown, failure) +‎ -ник (-nik) was a synonym of refusenik.  The -ник suffix was from the Proto-Slavic -ьnikъ, created originally by a nominalization of the adjectives in -ьnъ with the suffix -ikъ (from -ик (-ik)).  The suffix and was used to form masculine nouns, usually denoting adherents etc, the use illustrated by forms such as the dialectal Lithuanian lauk-inykas (peasant, farmer), from laũkas (field) and the Old Prussian lauk-inikis (vassal).  Refuse (in the sense of “to decline a request or demand” was from the Middle English refusen, from the Old French refuser, from the Vulgar Latin refūsāre, a blend of Classical Latin refūtāre (the source also of “refute”) and recūsāre (the source also of recuse).  The use in the sense of “items or material that have been discarded; rubbish, garbage, trash) was a late Middle English borrowing of the Middle French refusé, past participle of refuser (to refuse) which displaced the native Middle English wernen (to refuse).  In English, “refusenik” began as a calque of the Russian отка́зник (otkáznik) and from the mid-1970s, “refusenik” came to be used of someone who refused to do something (usually some law with which most complied), often either as a protest against government policy (conscription) or as a matter of personal autonomy (mandated vaccination).  While the construct of the word was an amusing novelty, the idea conveyed had a long tradition, the English agent noun refuser documented since the late fifteenth century.  The alternative spelling refusnik was not uncommon.  Refusenik is a noun; the noun plural is refuseniks.  Forms like refuseniking & refuseniked are non-standard but used for humorous effect as required.

Technically the –nik suffix corresponds approximately to the English –er in that nearly always it denotes an agent noun (ie it describes a person related to the thing, state, habit, or action described by the word to which the suffix is attached).  The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought most likely to have been borrowed from the Latin –ārius where, as a suffix, it was used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals.  In English, the –er suffix, when added to a verb, created an agent noun: the person or thing that doing the action indicated by the root verb.   The use in English was reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant -our), from the Latin -ātor & -tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  When appended to a noun, it created the noun denoting an occupation or describing the person whose occupation is the noun.  The connotation however is different in that –er is linguistically neutral (ie the value in the word “murderer” is carried by the “murder” element) whereas a –nik word is usually loaded and that can be negative, positive and often jocular. 

In structural linguistics, the process of creating words by adding a foreign suffix (such as refusenik) is known as “suffix borrowing” (or “affix borrowing”, “prefix borrowing” the obvious companion term).  Refusenik was thus a fork of the phenomenon known as “neoclassical blending” or “neoclassical compounding”, where a foreign morpheme is combined with a native or other language base.  The forms are described as “neologisms created through affixation” and many are coined for jocular effect, the “-nik” subset used to imply a person associated with something, often in a somewhat negative sense, other noted examples including “beatnik” (a member of the “beat” generation of the 1950s, an early example of what would in the 1960s come to be called the “counter culture” and a kind of proto-hippie), “peacenik” (one opposed to war and coined originally to describe those associated with the anti-war movement in the US and opposed to US participation in the conflict in Indochina), “warnick” (the response of the peaceniks to those who supported US policy (which wasn’t picked up by the establishment, unlike “dry”, used originally as a slur by the those who had been labeled “wet” (higher taxes, more social spending etc); the “drys” (smaller government, deregulation etc) liked the term and adopted it although their attempt to give it a little more appeal as “warm & dry” never caught on), “appeasenik” (used in a derogatory sense to describe those who prefer a policy of appeasement to a more robust foreign policy response), “contranik”, (used in a derogatory sense to describe those in the US supporting the right-wing Contras (from the Spanish la contrarrevolución (literally “the counter-revolution”) who between 1979-1990 staged an insurgency against Nicaragua’s Marxist Sandinista Junta), “nogoodnik” (someone disreputable), “neatnick” (someone thought obsessively tidy in their habits), “kibbutznik” (In Israel, a member of a kibbutz (and not necessarily a Russian émigré)), “sweetnik” (one’s sweetheart (male or female), “noisenik” (a musician who produces harsh, discordant music (with deliberate intent rather than through lack of skill) and “nudenik” (a advocate of nude sunbathing).

A 1961 guide to the beatnik world view.

The difference between a “beatnik and a “beat” was that the “Beats” were members of the “Beat Generation” a literary and cultural movement which emerged in the late 1940s and popularized by the writers Jack Kerouac (1922-1969), Allen Ginsberg (1926–1997), William S Burroughs (1914–1997) a Neal Cassady (1926-1968).  Kerouac would describe the Beat state as being “beaten down, exhausted, but also in touch with the raw, spiritual, and authentic experiences of life” and they were a harbinger of the counter-culture of the 1960s.  There were at the time claims there was a distinct “Beat philosophy” but there were so many claims about this that it really can’t be said there was ever a coherent “philosophy” beyond a sense of rebellion against mainstream culture, materialism, and the alleged conformity on post-war America life, the latter something which in later decades would exert a strong nostalgic pull, exploited by a number of politicians.  The term “beatnik” was more about the stereotyped. Superficial elements associated with those who followed what they thought was the “beat lifestyle”.  It’s not fair to say the beatniks were “the Beat’s groupies” but that probably was the public perception, one which imagined them sitting in coffee shops, wearing berets and listening to poetry readings.

The “nik” words belong to a broader class of borrowed affixed words or loanword derivatives, the best known of which are the neoclassical compounds, formed by combining elements (usually prefixes or suffixes) from classical languages, particularly Greek and Latin, with existing words or roots from other languages (or simply combining Greek & Latin elements, something of which some purists don’t approve).  These compound words are common both in general use and specialized or technical fields such as science, medicine, and philosophy.  Well known examples include: “television” (the construct being tele- (from the Greek tēle (far)) + vision (from the Latin videre (to see)), “automobile”, the construct being auto- (from the Greek autos (self)) + mobile (from the Latin mobilis (movable)), “astronaut” (the construct being astro- (from the Greek astron (star)) + -naut (from the Greek nautēs (sailor)), “bicycle”, the construct being bi- (from the Latin bis (twice)) + cycle (from the Greek kyklos (circle; wheel)).

There has never been an authenticated Lindsaygate or Lohangate so, deductively, Lindsay Lohan has lived a scandal-free life although she does have some history of refusenikism.

Refusenik though belongs to the subset of the type coined usually for humorous effect or a commercial purpose and they include the “-zillas” (stormzilla, bridezilla, bosszilla et al), the suffix from the fictional Godzilla and appended to imply something or someone is excessively large, powerful, or monstrous, usually in an exaggerated or absurd way, the “-aholics” (shopaholic, chocoholic, workaholic et al) the suffix appended to The suffix -aholic (from alcoholic) is often humorously attached to nouns to describe someone addicted to or obsessed with something, the “fests” (geekfest, nerdfest, laughfest, foodfest et al, the –fest suffix from the German Fest (festival), appended to describe and event involves much of a certain thing or theme or will attract those of a certain type, the “-o-ramas” (snack-o-rama, fright-o-rama, book-o-rama et al, the -orama suffix from panorama (a wide view) and appended to suggest an abundance or spectacle of something and of course the “-gates” (pizzagate, whitewatergate, snipergate, servergate, benghazigate et al (all in some way related to crooked Hillary Clinton which is interesting), -gate suffix from the Watergate scandal of the early 1970s.  The use of the –gate scandal is an example of what’s called “transferred, implied or imputed meaning” and because it creates form which are “mock-serious”, the words can straddle a range of senses, unlike something like “chocoholic” which, whatever might be the implications for an individual’s health, is always jocular.

In English, the use of the –nik suffix spiked after the USSR in October 1957 launched Sputnik, the first satellite to orbit the Earth although the earlier Yiddish forms (in Yinglish, the words contributed by Yiddish speakers from Eastern Europe) may also have exerted some regional influence, notably in New York where as early as the 1930s nudnik (an annoying person; a pest, a nag, a jerk) had spread beyond the Jewish community.  The association of with Sputnik created a minor industry among headline writers looking for words to describe the failures, explosions and crashes which were a feature of the launches in the early days of the US space program after the Russian’s satellite had so shocked the Americans.  The terms like kaputnik, dudnik and flopnik became briefly famous and contributed to the impression the Soviets were much more advanced in rocketry and related technology but that was misleading because the Russians had suffered just as many failures but theirs were a state secret and therefore unknown outside official circles while for the US launches were televised nationally on network television.  The perceptions generated by kaputnik, dudnik and flopnik also created a political ripple which would play out in the 1960 US presidential election and beyond.  Although Sputnik gave things quite a shove, the suffix had a long history in English and the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes raskolnik (a bit of a rascal) was in use by at least 1723.  After following the British Empire to the other side of the world, raskol washed up in PNG (Papua New Guinea) as a noun meaning “a criminal, operating sometimes as part of a gang”.  IN PNG, raskol was from the English rascal (a rogue, a scoundrel, a trickster) and entered Tok Pisin (“talk + pidgin”, one of PNG’s official languages and a creole of Indo-European, Malayo-Polynesian and Trans-New Guinean languages (principally English and Kuanua).  In later editions of The American Language (first published in 1919), the US satirist & critic HL Mencken (1880–1956 and a fair scholar of the tongue) credited the popularity of the practice of appending -nik to the ends of adjectives to create nouns to US Cartoonist Al Capp (1909–1979) who put a few of them in his syndicated Li'l Abner cartoon (1934-1977), Sputnik (1957) & beatnik (1958) respectively an accelerant or product of the process.

While it often was applied humorously, it also was used of those in Israel who refused to participate in military operations conducted by the Tsva ha-Hagana le-Yisra'el (the Israel Defence Forces (IDF)) in the occupied Palestinian territories (which the government of Israel calls “disputed territories” which the refuseniks regards as unlawful under international law.  Language matters much in the Middle East and some still use “Tel Aviv” as the synecdoche for “government of Israel” because recognition Jerusalem (another “disputed” space” as the capital is so limited.  Tel Aviv briefly was the capital between May 1948-December 1949 and a time when ongoing military conflict rendered Jerusalem too unstable for government operations.  Jerusalem was declared the capital in December 1949 and by mid-1950, most of the state’s administrative apparatus was based there but its status as a national capital is recognized by only a handful of nations.

Books (left & centre), academic journals and magazines used the title “Refusenik” in its original sense of “a Soviet citizen (usually Jewish) who was denied permission to emigrate from the Soviet Union (usually to Israel), something which was a feature of the Brezhnev-era (Leonid Brezhnev (1906–1982; Soviet leader 1964-1982)) USSR but it was later adopted (by extension) in the English-speaking world to refer to those refusing to cooperate with a system or comply with a law as a matter of political principle or because of a moral conviction.  Edited by self-described refusenik (in the later sense) Peretz Kidron (1933–2011) and published in 2013 by Bloomsbury, Refusenik (right) applied the word in the later sense of “those who refuse” rather than the original “those who were refused”.  With a blurb including a quote from linguistics theorist & public intellectual Professor Noam Chomsky (b 1928) and a foreword by author and essayist Susan Sontag (1933—2004), it’s likely a few reviews were written before a page was turned.

Frisbee

Frisbee (pronounced friz-bee)

(1) A brand of plastic concave disk, used for various games by sailing it through the air, thrown by making it spin as it's released with a flick of the wrist.

(2) By extension & genericization (without an initial capital), a disk-shaped gliding toy of any brand.

(3) The sport or pass-time involving flying disks.

1957: The brand name Frisbee was trademarked in 1959 and later acquired by Wham-O.  Frisbee was an alteration of Frisbie, the name applied to the disk game by students who tossed the pie plates which came with the “Mrs Frisbie’s Pies” from the Frisbie Pie Company which operated from the Frisbie Bakery in Bridgeport, Connecticut.  Frisbie supplied pies to Yale University and it was at Middlebury College in Vermont during the 1930s a campus craze started for tossing empty pie tins stamped with the company's logo, the aeronautical qualities apparently uniquely good (students at both Yale and Princeton claiming to have discovered the aerodynamic properties).  The spelling of the name was changed on legal advice and frisbee is a genericization of the trademark.  Frisbee is a noun & verb and frisbeeing & frisbeed are verbs; the noun plural is frisbees.  The adjectives frisbesque & frisbeeish are both non standard.

Lindsay Lohan carrying her frisbee in its protective case.

The family name Frisbie exists in English records from 1226, from a place name in Leicestershire (Frisby on the Wreak), attested from 1086, from the toponym attested 1086 in Frisby on the Wreak, Leicestershire, from the Old Danish Frisby (Frisian village; farmstead or village of the Frisians), from the Old Norse Frisa, genitive plural of Frisr.  Not unusually for the age, there were two hamlets in county Leicestershire called Frisby but genealogists seem certain the origin of the family name is associated with Frisby on the Wreak.  In the parish records of 1239 there is a priest named de Frysby who was vicar of the church at Welham, a village about 13 miles (21 km) south-east of the city of Leicester, England and he may be the same Roger de Frysbey who in 1246 was curate of the church at Barkestone, ten miles (16 km) north of Melson Mowbray.  As a geographical name, the now lost Frisbys were two of many in the British Isles which derived their names from the Old Norman frisir (someone from the area of Frisia or Friesland).  The names were illustrative of the vast movement of people from Europe after the Norman Conquest of England in 1066.  A multitude of spelling variations characterize Norman surnames, many because the Old and Middle English lacked definite spelling rules and in an age of limited mobility, regional evolutions were common and gave rise to many dialectical forms (the introduction of Norman French to England also had an effect, as did the court languages of Latin and French).  It was not unknown for one person’s name to be spelled several ways during their single lifetime and Frisbie was just one of many including Frisbie, Frisby, Frisbee, Frisebie, Frisebye & Friseby.  The Frisbie motto was Semper fidelis (Always faithful).

At much the same time students in the north-east US were tossing Mrs Frisbie’s pie tins to each other, a young couple were enjoying similar fun with a popcorn can lid but, unlike the students, they had an entrepreneurial streak and began selling the cardboard bases sold to cake makers for five times the cost, changing only the labeling.  World War II (1939-1945) interrupted business between 1942-1945 but, once hostilities ceased, the designer applied to the re-purposed disk some lessons learned from service with the US Army Air Force (USAAF), improving the aerodynamic properties.  The zeitgeist of the late 1940s was also influential.  In June 1947, a commercial pilot claimed to have seen nine "flying discs" zipping across Washington state at a speed he estimated at 1,200 mph (1931 km/h) and, without waiting for verification, the Associated Press (AP) wire service distributed the story.  The Hearst press ran the piece with a "flying saucers" headline and that phrase went viral about as quickly as things now spread on social media.  Saucer-mania had begun and soon there were hundreds of reported sightings, a trend which continued, spiking in response to events such as the launch of the USSR’s Sputnik satellite in 1957.  Taking advantage, the prototype Frisbee, by then mass-produced in plastic, was renamed from Whirlo-Way to Flyin' Saucer.

Effie Krokos, this time in black jacket.

In 2019, Effie Krokos (b 1999) and her fiancé were in the front yard of his house in Loveland (a wonderful name), 40 miles (64 km) north of Denver, enjoying some frisbee tossing.  Because it was a hot day, she removed her shirt and continued to play while topless.  Several hours later, a Loveland police officer (the mind boggles) arrived and issued an indecent-exposure citation, invoking a city ordinance prohibiting exposure in public places or places open to public view.  Ms Krokos told the officer of a recent circuit court ruling against the public nudity ordinance in the neighboring city of Fort Collins but the officer maintained the ruling didn’t apply in Loveland.

Loveland Police cruiser.

Denver civil rights attorney David Lane (b 1954) agreed to take the case as part of the #FreetheNipple movement, explaining the Circuit Court of Appeals had ruled in February 2019 that Fort Collins’ public nudity ordinance, which had no restrictions on male toplessness but prohibited women from baring their breasts, was in violation of the Equal Protection Clause of the 14th Amendment.  Free the Nipple v City of Fort Collins (17-1103 (10th Cir. 2019)) established that ordinances based on gender are unconstitutional.  “Anywhere it’s legal for a man to appear in public topless, it’s legal for a woman to do the same” Lane said.  Loveland accepted the offer of a US$50,000 settlement in Krokos’ case in to prevent a federal lawsuit.  The case was dismissed with prejudice (meaning that it cannot be reintroduced in another lawsuit) and the city suspended enforcement of the provision, pending a review.  Ms Krokos said she wants to show that "it isn’t fair for women to be treated differently than men by law enforcement" and hopes that the case will make more women aware of their rights.

Boston University's women’s "Ultimate Frisbee" team (the Lady Pilots), ran an "I Need Feminism Because..." campaign.  The campaign was an effort to draw attention to the need for gender equity, apparently prompted by crooked Hillary Clinton's (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) loss in that year’s presidential election to a man whose reported comments about women would have ended the political career of anyone else.  Each of the players wrote their own message on the underside of a frisbee.

By the mid 1950s, the design had been refined to the form which exists to this day and had the changes were judged sufficiently innovative to be granted a US Design Patent; this was the product released as the Pluto Platter and the final evolution of the name came in 1957 when the named Frisbee was applied.  Remarkably, it had taken until then for the knowledge of the casual student game of the 1930s to become known to the manufacturers after an article appeared in a newspaper which revealed students were calling the Pluto Platter the Frisbie.  It was clearing a catchier name and it caught on, persuading the manufacturers to change the name to Frisbee, the change in spelling on legal advice, lest the pie makers object though that would soon become moot, the Frisbie Pie Company ceasing operations in 1958, something apparently unrelated to flying disks and attributed to the sharp US recession of that year.

Paige Pierce about to execute a backhand drive.

Because Frisbee is a registered trademark, the name isn’t use in formal competition.  The World Flying Disc Federation (WFDF) applied for consideration by the Olympic Organizing Committee to be included in the Olympic Programme of the 2028 Summer Olympic Games in Los Angeles but didn’t make the short list which was restricted to baseball & softball, break dancing, cricket, flag football, karate, kickboxing, lacrosse, motorsport, and squash.  WFDF expressed disappointment, noting that “Flying Disc sports is actively practiced on a competitive level in 103 countries in the world and appeared to satisfy all of the objective criteria agreed between the IOC and LA28. These criteria included not adding cost and complexity to the games by utilizing full venue sharing on the beach or grass stadium, having total gender equality with our gender-balanced mixed format, having youth appeal, and ensuring that the top athletes were involved. There are few other sports that can boast an equivalent Californian DNA as frisbee and we felt our Ultimate 4s format requiring a total athletes’ quota of only 48 would fit well given the overall cap on the Games. We are also strongly convinced that our sport is unique in upholding integrity and fairness with our self-refereeing concept of Spirit of the Game.”  The WFDF have indicated they’ll make representations to be included in the 2032 Olympic Games in Brisbane, Australia.  The game is certainly growing and a tiny elite are already finding Flying Disk a lucrative pursuit, the top athletes attracting sponsorship deals from disk manufacturers.  Paul Mcbeth’s (b 1990) contract is worth a reported US$10 million over five years while the highest paid woman is Paige Pierce (b 1991), earning US$3 million over three years.  Both are under contract to Discraft.

Allegro

Allegro (pronounced uh-ley-groh or uh-leg-roh or ahl-le-graw (Italian)).

(1) In music, a tempo mark directing that a passage is to be played in a quick, lively tempo, faster than allegretto but slower than presto.

(2) In music (more traditionally), an expressive mark indicating that a passage is to be played in a lively or happy manner, not necessarily quickly.

(3) In music, a piece or passage to be performed in this manner (an allegro movement).

(4) In printing & typography, as the font Allegro, a serif typeface released in 1936 (initial upper case).

(5) In the history of the internet's lists of "the worst cars ever made", British Leyland's Austin Allegro (1973-1982) (initial upper case).

(6) In Italian use, a male given name (initial upper case).

1625–1635: From the Italian allegro (lively; happy, cheerful (feminine allegra, masculine plural allegri, feminine plural allegre, superlative allegrissimo)), from the French allègre, from the Latin alacer (nominative alacer) (lively, cheerful, brisk) (from which English later picked up alacrity).  The Italian allegretto (diminutive of allegro) in musical composition is the instruction to be (brisk & sprightly but not so quick as allegro) was coined in 1740 explicitly for its technical purpose in music and the alternative form was the adverb allegro non troppo, the construct being allegro (fast) + non (not) + troppo (too much), thus understood as "play fast but not too fast".   As well as the native Italian and the English allegro, composers in many languages use the term including in French allegro (the post-1990 spelling allégro), the Greek αλέγρος (alégros) & αλλέγκρο (allégkro), the Norwegian allegro, the Portuguese allegro (the alternative spelling alegro), the Turkish allegro and the Persian آلگرو.  Allegro is a noun, adjective & adverb; the noun plural is allegros (Initial upper case if used of the cars of appropriately named Italian males).

Use as a musical term didn’t actually begin until 1721.  Prior to that, since the early seventeenth century, English had used the word in the sense (brisk, sprightly; cheerful) picked up from Italian and Latin although the original spelling in English was aleger (lively, brisk) from Old French alegre, influenced by the Medieval Latin alacris.  What encouraged the use was the adoption of the word (in its literal sense) by John Milton (1608–1674) who included the poem L'Allegro" in his collection Poems (1645).  L'Allegro (the happy man) was a pastoral poem and critics regarded it as a companion piece for his Il Penseroso (the melancholy man), a work which in some ways anticipated the Romantic movement of the early nineteenth century.  The literary use extended to the term "allegro speech" (a relatively fast manner of speaking), once often used as a stage notation by playwrights although it seems now less common, replaced by terms better known to the young.  This fragment from Milton's L'Allegro is illustrative of the piece's rhythm and movement:

Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful Jollity,
Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods, and becks, and wreathbd smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it as you go
On the light fantasric roe.

Lindsay Lohan merchandize on allegro.pl, a Polish e-commerce site.

The site presumably settled on the name allegro to convey the idea of speed (fast service, fast delivery etc).  Although the word allegro was never absorbed into the Polish language, because of the use in augmenting musical notation, it’s a familiar form throughout Europe.  Polish composer Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849) used it as a title for Allegro de concert in A major, Opus 46 and his work also included three “allegro” movements: Allegro maestoso (the first movement of the Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor, Opus. 11), Allegro vivace (the third movement of the Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor, Opus 11) and Allegro vivace (the third movement of the Piano Concerto No. 2 in F minor, Opus 21).  In an appalling example of an attempt at normative moral relativism, while on trial before the International Military Tribunal (IMT) at Nuremberg (1945-1946), Hans Frank (1900–1946; Nazi lawyer and governor of the General Government (1939-1945) in German-occupied Poland during World War II) suggested that in mitigation for his direct complicity in mass-murder, he should receive some credit for establishing the Chopin Museum in Krakow, something “the Poles had never done”.  Voraciously corrupt (even by Nazi standards), Frank was protected by virtue of his past service as Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) and remained in his palace until the military collapse of the General Government in 1945 during which some four million people were murdered under his rule.  Remarkably, he handed to the Allies dozens of volumes of his highly incriminating diaries and the IMT found him guilty under Count 2 (War Crimes) & Count 3 (Crimes Against Humanity), sentencing him to death by hanging.  His response to the sentence was to say: “I expected it, I deserved it”, adding: “A thousand years will pass and still this guilt of Germany will not have been erased.”  The latter sentiment he recanted while awaiting execution, suggesting the trial had provided something of a cleansing effect but at the time most regarded that as cynically as they noted his rediscovery of his long abandoned Roman Catholic faith.

Although book burning was associated with the era, much publishing was still done in Germany during the 1930s and the centre of the industry was Frankfurt.  In 1936 the city’s Ludwig & Mayer type foundry released the Allegro typeface, in the tradition of the nineteenth century Didone style but influenced also by the art deco designs which had become popular.  A serif design which relied for its effect on the alternation of thick and thin strokes, it uses breaks in the letter where thin strokes might be expected, hinting at the style of stencils with a touch of the inclination associated with calligraphy.  It was a popular typeface for decorative purposes such as book jackets or headings of musical notation but very much a display font, it works well only above a certain point size and is used almost exclusively for titles.

The Austin Allegro

Aesthetic success & failure: The Alfa-Romeo Alfasud (left) and the Austin Allegro (right).

Often featured (usually with several other products of British Leyland in the 1970s) in lists as among the worst cars ever made, the Austin Allegro was in production between 1973-1982 and actually sold in respectable numbers for most of that time although at only a third the rate of its remarkably popular predecessor (ADO16, the Morris 1100/1300 and its many badge-engineered siblings).  One much criticized aspect of the Allegro was the appearance; it was thought a bloated blob in an era of sharp-edges and wedges and the critique does illustrate just how narrow can be the margin between success and failure in the execution of a concept.  The Alfa Romeo Alfasud (1971-1983 (variants of the original produced until 1989)) adopted essentially the same shape and dimensions yet was praised as an elegant and well-balanced design.  Seen in silhouette, the shapes are similar yet in the metal, the detail differences, a mere inch (25 mm) or two here and there or a subtle change in an angle or curve and one emerges lithe, the other ponderous.

Harris Mann’s 1968 conceptual sketch for the Allegro project.

The Allegro’s portly appearance wasn’t the original intent.  Tasked with designing a replacement for ADO16, the stylist Harry Mann (1938-2023) sketched a modernist wedge, designed to accommodate what was at the time an advanced specification which included all-independent hydraulic suspension, front wheel drive, disk brakes and crucially, new, compact engines.  Mann however began the project while employed by Austin’s parent corporation, the British Motor Corporation (BMC) but by the time substantive work on the Allegro began, BMC had been absorbed into the Leyland conglomerate, a sprawling entity of disparate and now competing divisions which, if agonizingly reorganized, might have succeeded but such were the internal & external obstacles to re-structuring that, coupled with political turmoil and the economic shocks of the 1970s, it staggered to failure, something the later nationalization could only briefly disguise.  Thus Mann’s team learned the clean-lined wedge would have to be fattened-up because not only were the old, tall engines to be re-used but the new engines to be offered as options were bulkier still.  Installed at an angle, which would have demanding some re-engineering but would have been possible, that might have been manageable but what was not was the decision to use the corporate heater unit, developed at an apparently extraordinary cost; it could be installed just one way and it was a tall piece of machinery.  Allegro production ended in 1982 but what its appearance of all those "worst car ever" lists tends to obscure is it wasn't a commercial failure.  Although it sold only about a third the volume of its predecessor (the BMC ADO16 range) which was for most of the 1960s the UK's best-selling car (and an export success, especially in New Zealand), the Allegro existed in a much more competitive market.  Essentially, the Allegro was nearly a very good car and had it been produced by an outfit less inept than British Leyland, it'd probably now be better-remembered.

1976 Triumph TR7 coupé (left) and 1980 Triumph TR8 convertible (right).  It is wholly emblematic of British Leyland that just as the TR8 had become a good car with much unexplored potential, production ceased. 

Mann didn’t forget his 1968 sketch and when the opportunity later came to design a new sports car, his wedge re-appeared as one of the cars which most represented the design ethos of the 1970s: The Triumph TR7 (1974-1981) & TR8 (1977-1982) which weren't quite trouble-free but which sold quite well and, as the TR8 (which used the 3.5 litre (215 cubic inch) Rover V8), represented something in which the potential of the original was finally realized but it was too late for by then the disaster that was British Leyland had eaten itself.  

1960 Plymouth Fury four-door hardtop (left), 1974 Austin Allegro 1750 Sport Special (centre) and 2024 Chevrolet Corvette Z06 coupé (right).

The Allegro is remembered also for a steering wheel which was neither circular yet not exactly square.  Actually the idea wasn’t novel, dating back decades and had been used on quite a few American cars during the early 1960s but on the Allegro it attracted much derision, something not diminished by Leyland’s explanation that it was optimal for the car and afforded a good view of the instruments.  Leyland also attracted the scorn of mathematicians when they called the shape “quartic” because of it being “a square with rounded corners”.  However, technically, a quartic is “an algebraic equation or function of the fourth degree or a curve describing such an equation or function” and sqound (a portmanteau word, the construct being sq(uare) + (r)ound) is the ultimate niche word, the only known use by collectors of C4 Chevrolet Corvettes (1984-1996) describing the shift in 1990 from round to “a square with rounded corners” taillights.  Mathematicians insist the correct word for a "square with rounded corners" is "squircle" (in algebraic geometry "a closed quartic curve having properties intermediate between those of a square and a circle"), the construct being squ(are) +c(ircle).  Few etymologists (and certainly no lexicographers) appear to have listed sqound as a "real" word but it's of interest because it's a rare example of a word where a "q" is not followed by a "u"; such constructs do exist but usually in the cases where initialisms have become acronyms such as Qantas (Queensland and Northern Territory Aerial Services).  Such words do appear in English language texts but they tend to be foreign borrowings including (1) qat (or khat) (a plant native to East Africa and the Arabian Peninsula, often chewed for its stimulant effects, (2) qi (a term from Chinese philosophy referring to life force or energy), qibla (the direction Muslims face when praying, towards the Kaaba in Mecca and (4) qiviut (the soft under-wool of the musk-ox, valued when making warm clothing).  For a while, Leyland pretended to ignored the pedants but within a year replaced the wheel with a conventional circular design.  Whatever the name, variations of the shape have since become popular with high-end manufacturers, Ferrari, Aston-Martin, Lamborghini and others all pursuing non-circular themes and one is a feature of the latest (C8) mid-engined Chevrolet Corvette, in which, unlike the unfortunate Allegro, it's much admired.

The antipodean Edsel: 1973 Leyland P76 Super V8 (left) and 1974 Leyland Force 7V (right).  Only 10 of the prototype Force 7V coupés survived the crusher but although it offered the novelty of a hatchback, the styling was ungainly and the very market segment for which it was intended was close to extinction.  Even had the range survived beyond 1974, success would have been improbable although the company should be commended for having intended to name the luxury version the Tour de Force (from the French and translated literally as "feat of strength"), the irony, in retrospect, charming.     

Although 1973 was the last “good year” for the “old” UK economy and one during which British Leyland was looking to the future with some optimism, the corporation’s troubles that year with steering wheels were, in retrospect, a harbinger for what lay ahead.  In addition to the Allegro, also introduced in 1973, on the other side of the planet, was the P76, a large (then a “compact” in US terms) sedan which Leyland Australia hoped would be competitive with the then dominant trio, GMH’s (General Motors Holden) Holden, Ford’s Falcon and Chrysler’s Valiant, the previous attempts using modified variants of UK models less than successful.  Leyland at the time kept expectations low, claiming the target was nothing more than a 10% market share and the initial reception the P76 received suggested this might more than be realized, the consensus of press reports concluding the thing was in many aspects at least as good as the opposition and in some ways superior, the country’s leading automotive that year awarding the V8 version the coveted COTY (Car of the Year) trophy.  Unfortunately, the circumstances of 26 June 1973 when the P76 was launched didn’t last, the first oil crisis beginning some four months later which resulted in a spike in the price of oil which not only suddenly dampened demand for larger cars but also triggered what was then the most severe and longest-lasting recession of the post-war years.  Basic design flaws in the body engineering and indifferent quality control contributed to the debacle which is now remembered as the Australian industry’s Edsel and in October 1974 production of the P76 ended and Leyland closed its Australian manufacturing facilities, never to re-open.

1973 P76 with the original sharp-edged steering wheel (left) and the later version, designed for the Force 7 (right).  The P76's steering wheel was one of many flaws which were planned to be rectified (or at least ameliorated) in the "facelifted" version scheduled for 1975 but before the end of 1974 the decision had been taken in London to axe the entire Leyland Australia project.    

Given the geo-political situation, rampant inflation and troubled industrial relations of the time, the P76’s steering wheel is really just a footnote in the sad tale but, like the Allegro’s “quartic” venture it was emblematic of the self-inflicted injuries to which Leyland would subject itself, both in the UK and its antipodean offshoot.  When the P76 made its debut in 1976, there was some comment that the steering wheel’s boss had a horn-pad in the shape of a boomerang, emphasizing the Australian connection but what was criticized was the rim which had bizarre, concave cross-section, meaning a quite sharp edge faced the driver, leaving an impression on the palms of the hands after only a few minutes driving.  The industry legend is the shape was a consequence of the typist (in 1973 it was accepted practice to blame women whenever possible) who prepared the final specification-sheet having mixed up “concave” & “convex” but even if that’s true it’s remarkable the obvious flaw in the design wasn’t rectified at the prototype stage.  Some have doubted the veracity of the story but such things do happen.  On 23 September, 1999, NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) lost the US$125 million Mars Climate Orbiter spacecraft after its 286-day journey to Mars and that was a time when US$125 million was still a lot of money.  There was of course the inevitable review which found the craft’s directional thrusters had, over the course of several months, been incorrectly fired because the control data had been calculated in incorrect units.  The contractor Lockheed Martin (responsible for the calculations) was sending data in Imperial measures (pounds) to NASA, while NASA's navigation team, expecting metric units, interpreted the numbers as Newtons).  As far as is known, neither the contractor nor the agency attempted to blame a typist.

How to make an Allegro look worse: 1976 Vanden Plas 1500.  The consensus among testers was the best place to enjoy a Vanden Plas 1500 was sitting in the back, amid the leather and walnut, most readers drawing the inference that was because one wouldn't have to look at the thing.  One less charitable scribe described it as "mutton dressed up as hogget". 

In another sign of the times, unlike ADO16, one basic vehicle which was badge-engineered to be sold under six brands (Austin, Morris, Riley, Wolseley, MG & Vanden Plas), the only variation of the Allegro was a luxury version by coach-builder Vanden Plas (although there were Belgium-built Allegros and Leyland's Italian operation produced some 10,000 between 1974-1975 as the Innocenti Regent), laden with leather, cut-pile carpeting and burl walnut trim including the picnic tables so beloved by English coachbuilders.  It didn't use the Allegro name and has always elicited condemnation, even from those who admired the Vanden Plas ADO16, presumably because the traditional upright grill attached to the front suited the earlier car's lines whereas the version which had to be flattened to fit the Allegro's pinched, pudgy nose looked just absurd.  Still, there's clearly some appeal because the Vanden Plas cars have the highest survival rate of all the Allegros and now enjoy a niche (one step below the GDR's (the German Democratic Republic; the old East Germany) Trabant (the infamous "Trabbi")) on the bottom rung of the collector car market.  One thing which may disappoint collectors is the Vanden Plas 1500 & 1750 (1974-1982) never used the "quartic" steering wheel although a photograph of one so-equipped did appear in the early brochures, printed before the decision was taken in mid-1974 to replace it with a conventional (circular) design.  The photograph was of what the the industry calls a "final pre-production prototype", a common practice.  

The Alfa Romeo Alfasud

The fate of many Alfasuds.

The Alfasud name (the construct being Alfa + sud) was an allusion to it being produced in a newly built factory in the Naples region, the decision taken after financial inducements were offered by the government, anxious to do something about the levels of unemployment and lack of economic development in the south of the country.  The Italian sud (south) was from the French sud, from Old English suþ, from Proto-Germanic sunþrą.  As a plan it made sense to politicians and economists but, industrial relations being what they were at the time, the outcome was less than ideal.    

In one aspect, the Allegro and Alfasud (1971-1989) were wholly un-alike, the latter infamous for its propensity to rust, a trait shared with many mass-produced Italian cars of the era, the only consolation for Alfasud owners being the contemporary Lancia Beta suffered even more.  The Alfasud's rust-resistance did improve over the years but it remained a problem until the end of production and the industry story has always been that in the barter economy which was sometime conducted between the members of the EEC (European Economic Community, an ancestor organization of the latter-day European Union (EU)) and those of the Warsaw Pact (the alliance between the USSR and its satellite states which essentially duplicated the structure of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO)), Italian manufactured goods were exchanged for Russian steel which was reputedly re-cycled but anyway turned out to be of poor quality and essentially porous.  The story certainly is a good fit for the narrative of maladministration and corruption that was Italy in the 1970s but subsequent research has revealed it to be a myth, the sheet metal used in the Neapolitan factory at Pomigliano d’Arco where Alfasuds were made the same stuff that Alfa Romeo used in the facility at Arese in Milan where the Giulia range was produced and their reputation for resisting rust was good.  The evidence suggests all the steel used by the company's local operations came from the state owned Taranto steel mills.  Intriguingly, the factories south & north all used the same paints and the ovens & paint booths were a decade-odd newer in Naples.

Variations on the Alfasud theme: The Sprint (1976-1989, left) and Giardinetta (station wagon or estate-car) (1975-1980, right).

Given all that, the startlingly premature corrosion surprised many within Alfa Romeo and in 1977 a project-team began to investigate the causes and it was afforded some urgency given the reputational damage being suffered by the whole company (ie profits were suffering).  Having determined the core components (paint & steel) weren't to blame, the engineers deconstructed the production process including the system of movement (how the partially completed cars proceeded from start to finish).  What the team found was that while the electrophoresis baths at Pomigliano were state of the art, the inexperienced (and sometimes indifferently-minded) workforce operated them without adequate supervision and quality control, something exacerbated by the chronically bad labor relations, the factory beset by rolling strikes which meant unpainted bodies were often sitting for days.  In the humid climate of the south, condensation gathered, many cars already rusting even before eventually receiving a coat of paint and that the plant was less than 10 miles (16 km) from the coast and the prevailing winds blew from the sea added to the problem, the unpainted Alfasuds often left for days damp with salty moisture.

1983 Alfa Romeo Alfasud Ti QV Green Cloverleaf, one of the industry's longer model names.

The team's findings resulted in a change to the production process for the revised Series 2 Alfasuds launched in December 1977.  The critical parts of the bodyshell now used "Zincrometal" (steel coated with a primer which was a mix of chromium, zinc and an organic bonding resin, baked at 160°C (320°F) which was as good as anything used in the industry.  As a added precaution, a polyurethane foam was injected into the body's boxed sections with a flexible plastic sealant applied at the seams to prevent moisture intrusion.  That had the added benefit of reducing noise vibration & harshness (NVH) while adding little extra weight.  Unfortunately, the tests the engineers conducted to prove the design was waterproof relied on perfectly applied sealant at the junctions but the poor quality control continued and many seams were poorly sealed which meant the foam acted as a moisture store, making the problem worse.  By contrast, whatever its other faults, and there were a few, the Allegro resisted rust like few cars built anywhere during the era, the design sound and that 1970s British Leyland paint thick and durable.  In the years that followed, many would criticize the sometimes lurid and even sickly shades but as a protective coating, it did the job.

Ultimate Alfasud: The Giocattolo.

The much admired coupé variant of the Alfasud was sold as the Alfasud Sprint (1976-1983) and the Sprint (1983-1989); it proved rather more rust resistant.  It was subject to continuous product improvement and fitted with progressively larger and more powerful engines although none were larger than 1.7 litres (104 cubic inches) which limited its use in competition to events where outright speed mattered less than balance and handling.  It handling was about as good as front wheel drive (FWD) got and in events such as hill climbs the things are competitive even today.  The ultimate Alfasud however was the Giocattolo (a play on the Italian word meaning “toy”), built between 1986-1989 in a batch of 15 on Australia’s Sunshine Coast in Queensland.  Instead of the small four-cylinder engines, the Giocattolo was fitted with a mid-mounted 304 cubic inch (5.0 litre) Holden V8, driving the rear wheels through a ZF five-speed transaxle, the combination yielding a top speed of 160 mph (257 km/h), a useful increase of 40 mph (65 km/h) over the fastest of the factory Sprints.  As impressive as the mechanical specification was, the Giocattolos are best remembered for the unusual standard feature of a 375 ml bottle of Bundaberg Rum (the Sunshine Coast's most famous product which began as a way to use a waste-product of sugar-cane processing) and two shot glasses as part of the toolkit.  These days, a company would be cancelled for such a thoughtful inclusion.

Zoozve

Zoozve (pronounced zooz-vee or zooz-vay)

The orthodox clipping of 524522 Zoozve (provisional designation 2002 VE68), a temporary quasi-satellite (or quasi-moon and technically an asteroid) of the planet Venus.

2024 (sort of): From an accidental coining by a graphic artist preparing a rendering of a stylized poster of the solar system, the asteroid's provisional designation (2002VE) misread and written as ZOOZVE (the text of the descriptors all in upper case).  Another suggested pronunciation is jeuj-vey (as in zhuzh) but zooz-vee & zooz-vay seem more mnemonic.  Zoozve is a proper noun; the noun plural is zoozves.  Although Zoozve is a unique object, in the solar system, doubtlessly there are many more quasi-moons and zoozve (with an initial lower case) may emerge as the generic term, thus the need for the noun plural.

The Poster.

Zoozve first came to wider public attention early in 2024 when the tale was revealed in a podcast produced by Latif Nasser (b 1986) of New York public radio station WNYC’s RadioLab.  The story was triggered when he first noticed a detail on a poster of the solar system: a moon of Venus called Zoozve.  There are many moons in the solar system but Dr Nasser holds a PhD from Harvard's History of Science department and knew the astronomical orthodoxy was that Venus “has no moons”, something some rapid research confirmed so he contacted Elizabeth Landau (b 1975), a member of the US National Aeronautics and Space Administration's (NASA) communications, his not unreasonable assumption being if anyone should know about what’s in space, it was the folk at NASA.  After consulting the charts, Ms Landau concluded there was such an object but that it wasn’t a moon; it was a quasi-moon which, discovered in 2002, after 2004 when its dual orbits were first tracked, enjoyed the distinction of being the first quasi-moon ever found.  What appeared on the poster as “Zoozve” was the graphic artist’s misreading of “2002VE”, a designation typical of the naming conventions used in astronomy.

Poster close-up.

The distinction between a moon and a quasi moon is the former have “a primary anchor”: Although the Earth’s Moon of course revolves around the Sun as well as this planet, the solar relationship is a by-product of Earth’s gravitational pull.  A quasi-moon is one with two distinct paths of rotation, one around its (temporary) planet and one around the Sun.  There are implications in that beyond the cosmic phenomenon being a scientific curiosity: quasi-moons eventually will become detached (astronomers seem to like “flung-off” which is more illustrative) which means they could become objects which could crash into Earth.  Zoozve is some 240m (785 feet) in diameter and the conventional calculation is an impact with Earth would release energy equivalent to some 69,000 A-bombs with the yield (15 kilotons of TNT) of the device dropped on Hiroshima in 1945.  Zoozve is in the last few hundred years of its eight millennia-odd attachment to Venus and modelling suggests it is unlikely to hit earth when it does become adrift but such calculations are acknowledged to be “ultimately imprecise” and, as mentioned, there are doubtless many more; the universe is a violent and destructive place.  Quasi-moons had been speculated to exist for almost a century before 2002VE was named and since then it’s been discovered Earth has a few of its own.

2002VE was discovered in 2002 by Brian Skiff (b 1953), a research scientist at Arizona’s Lowell Observatory in Arizona and because he made no attempt to give it a “proper” name, it was allocated the procedural 2002VE86 (“proper” names granted usually only after an object has attracted sufficient interest to generate academic papers).  Dr Nasser however was so charmed by the tale of 2002VE that he submitted an application to the Working Group Small Bodies Nomenclature (WGSBN) of the International Astronomical Union (IAU) the committee responsible for assigning names to minor planets and comets.  What he wanted was for 2002VE to become Zoozve but it transpired there were naming "rules" including:

(1) 16 characters or less in length

(2) Preferably one word

(3) Pronounceable (in some language)

(4) Non-offensive

(5) Not too similar to an existing name of a Minor Planet or natural Planetary satellite.

(6) The names of individuals or events principally known for political or military activities are unsuitable until 100 years after the death of the individual or the occurrence of the event.

(7) Names of pet animals are discouraged

(8) Names of a purely or principally commercial nature are not allowed.

(9) Objects that approach or cross Earth's orbit (so called Near Earth Asteroids) are generally given mythological names.

Mar-a-Lago, Palm Beach, Florida.

Because of 2002VE’s proximity to earth, the need to have the name rooted in mythology was obviously the most onerous hurdle to overcome and it is a common-sense stipulation, imposed to avoid controversy on Earth: Imagine the fuss if quasi-moon 524522 Lindsay Lohan ended up crashing into Trump Tower or Mar-a-Lago?  There would be litigation.

Added to which, the IAU have the reputation of being a bunch of humorless cosmic clerks, something like the Vogons ("...not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous.") in Douglas Adams’ (1952–2001) Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992): they were the crew who decided Pluto should no longer be thought a planet because of some tiresome technical distinction.  Although lacking the lovely rings of Saturn (a feature shared on a smaller scale by Jupiter, Uranus & Neptune), Pluto is the most charming of all because it’s so far away; desolate, lonely and cold, it's the solar system’s emo.  If for no other reason, it should be a planet in tribute to the scientists who, for decades during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, calculated possible positions and hunted for the elusive orb.  In an example of Donald Rumsfeld's (1932–2021; US secretary of defense 1975-1977 & 2001-2006) “unknown knowns”, the proof was actually obtained as early as 1915 but it wasn’t until 1930 that was realized.  In an indication of just how far away Pluto lies, since the 1840s when equations based on Newtonian mechanics were first used to predict the position of the then “undiscovered” planet, it has yet to complete even one orbit of the Sun, one Plutonian year being 247.68 years long.  Unromantic, the IAU remains unmoved.  Still, there have been exceptions to the rule and it emerged some of the “rules” are actually “guidelines” and the WGSBN was so impressed by the serendipitous tale that a majority of the committee’s eleven voting members cast their ballots for Zoozve so, on 5 February 2024, Radiolab was able to announce the IAU officially had re-designated 2002VE as 524522 Zoozve.

Truly unique words (in the sense of one-off spellings) happen for many reasons.  Those intended for global use as trademarked company or product names really do have to be unique and sufficient different to just about every other word to ensure there are no legal maneuverings contesting their registration which is how we ended up with “Optus” (used since 1991 by the Australian telecommunications company (TelCo) which is now a subsidiary of Singapore-based TelCo Singtel) and Stellantis (a conglomerate created by the merger of the Italian Fiat Chrysler Automobiles (FCA) and the French PSA Group (comprising the Peugeot, Citroën, DS, Opel and Vauxhall brands)).  While on first hearing, to many, Optus and Stellantis probably sounded like mistakes, some words really were just the result of error.  Apron (an article of clothing worn over the front of the torso and at least part of the legs and donned by (1) cooks, butchers and others as protection from spills and (2) Freemasons as part of their regalia worn during their cultish rituals was from the Middle English naperoun & napron, from the Old French napperon, a diminutive of nappe (tablecloth), from the Latin mappa (napkin).  “Napron” became “apron” by the process of linguistic assimilation (ie “a napron” becoming “apron” because of the evolution of pronunciation.

Some become legion as accidental coinings only for it to turn out there’s a pedigree.  Warren Harding (1865-1921; US President 1921-1923), during the 1920 presidential campaign, used “normalcy” instead of “normality” after a George W Bush-like (George XLIII, b 1946; US president 2001-2009) mangling of the written text, something understandable because the section with the offending word was almost aggressively alliterative:

“America’s present need is not heroics, but healing; not nostrums, but normalcy; not revolution, but restoration; not agitation, but adjustment; not surgery, but serenity; not the dramatic, but the dispassionate; not experiment, but equipoise; not submergence in internationality, but sustainment in triumphant nationality.”

In saying "normalcy" he may have misspoken or perhaps Harding liked the word; questioned afterwards he said he found it in a dictionary which probably was true although whether his discovery came before or after the speech wasn't explored.  Although Harding’s choice was much-derided at the time, normalcy had certainly existed since at least 1857, originally as a technical term from geometry meaning the "mathematical condition of being at right angles, state or fact of being normal in geometry" but subsequently it had appeared in print as a synonym of normality on several occasions.  Still, it was hardly in general use though Harding gave it a boost and it’s not since gone extinct, now with little complaint except from the most linguistically fastidious who insist the use in geometry remains the only meaning and all subsequent uses are mistakes.