Scum

Scum (pronounced skuhm)

(1) A film or layer of foul or extraneous matter that forms on the surface of a liquid as a result of natural processes such as the greenish film of algae and similar vegetation on the surface of a stagnant pond

(2) A layer of impure matter that forms on the surface of a liquid as the result of boiling or fermentation

(3) A low, worthless, or evil person.

(4) Such persons collectively.

(5) An alternative name for scoria, the slag or dross that remains after the smelting of metal from an ore.

1200–1250: From the Middle English scume, derived from the Middle Dutch schūme (foam, froth) cognate with German schaum, ultimately of Germanic origin, drawn from the Old High German scūm and Old French escume.  In Old Norse word was skum, thought derived from the primitive root (s)keu (to cover, conceal).  By the early fourteen century, the word scummer (shallow ladle for removing scum) had emerged in Middle Dutch, a borrowing from the Proto-Germanic skuma, the sense deteriorated from "thin layer atop liquid" to "film of dirt," then just "dirt" and from this use is derived the modern skim.  The meaning "lowest class of humanity" is from the 1580s; the familiar phrase “scum of the earth” from 1712.  In modern use, the English is scum, French écume, Spanish escuma, Italian schiuma and Dutch schuim.  Scum is a noun & verb and scumlike & scummy are adjectives; the noun plural is scums.

Rendezvous: New Zealand-born cartoonist David Low's (1891-1963) famous take on the 1939 Ribbentrop-Molotov (Nazi-Soviet) Pact.  Although Low at the time couldn't have known it, comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) was sensitive to public opinion and when presented with the draft text of the pact, decided the rather flowery preamble extoling German-Soviet friendship was just too absurd, telling the visiting delegation that "...after years of pouring buckets of shit over each-other...", it'd be more convincing were the document to be as formal as possible.

 

The Society for Cutting Up Men: The S.C.U.M. Manifesto

S.C.U.M.  Manifesto (post shooting, 1968 Edition).

Although celebrated in popular culture as the summer of love, not everyone shared the hippie vibe in 1967.  The S.C.U.M. Manifesto was a radical feminist position paper by Valerie Solanas (1936-1988), self-published in 1967 with a commercial print-run a year later.  Although lacking robust theoretical underpinnings and criticized widely within the movement, it remains feminism’s purest and most uncompromising work, an enduring landmark in the history of anarchist publishing.  In the abstract, S.C.U.M. suggested little more than the parlous state of the word being the fault of men, it was the task of women to repair the damage and this could be undertaken only if men were exterminated from the planet.  The internal logic was perfect. 

The use of S.C.U.M. as an acronym for Society for Cutting Up Men existed in printed form from 1967 (though not in the manifesto’s text) although Solanas later denied the connection, adding that S.C.U.M. never existed as an organization and was just “…a literary device”.  The latter does appear true, S.C.U.M. never having a structure or membership, operating more as Solanas’ catchy marketing label for her views.  Calling it a literary device might seem pretentious but, given her world-view, descending to the mercantile would have felt grubby.  That said, when selling the original manifesto, women were charged US$1, men US$2.  While perhaps not as elegant an opening passage as a Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778) might have penned, Solanas’ words were certainly succinct.  "Life in this society being, at best, an utter bore and no aspect of society being at all relevant to women, there remains to civic-minded, responsible, thrill-seeking females only to overthrow the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete automation and eliminate the male sex.”  Ominously, “If S.C.U.M. ever strikes” she added, “it will be in the dark with a six-inch blade.”  No ambiguity there, men would know what to expect.

On set, 1967, Andy Warhol (1928-1987) & Nico (1938-1988).

Author and work were still little-known outside anarchist circles when, on 3 June 1968, Solanas attempted to murder pop-artist Andy Warhol, firing three shots, one finding the target.  The year 1968 was in the US a time of violence and tumult but among it all the celebrity connection and the bizarre circumstances ensured this one crime would attract widespread coverage.  Valerie Solanas with her two guns had entered Andy Warhol’s sixth-floor office at 33 Union Square West convinced he was intent on stealing the manuscript of the play Up Your Ass she’d repeatedly tried to persuade him to produce.  Warhol and his staff had reviewed the work and decided it simply wasn’t very good (Warhol giving the the back-handed compliment of being "well-typed") but because he’d “misplaced” the typed manuscript (it was later discovered in a trunk) Solanas concluded that was just a trick and he was going to take what she thought of as her brilliant play, claiming it as her own.  Although she’d for some time hovered around the fringes of the Warhol “Factory”, she seems not to have had much success as an advocate.  Her S.C.U.M. Manifesto envisioned a world without men, calling on “civic-minded, responsible, thrill-seeking females” to “overthrow the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete automation and eliminate the male sex” which was heady stuff with a certain mid-1960s appeal but Warhol also declined her offer to become a member of the Scum’s “Men’s Auxiliary” (a group for men sufficiently sympathetic to Scum’s aim to begin “working diligently to eliminate themselves.”

New York Daily News, 4 June 1968.

Not best pleased by the headline, “Actress Shoots Andy Warhol”, Solanas demanded a retraction claiming that she was "a writer, not an actress."  The paper had based the headline on her appearance in Warhol's films I, a Man (1967) and Bike Boy (1967).  Warhol later admitted he'd cast her in I, a Man (for which she received a US$25 fee) in the hope she'd stop nagging him about the play she'd written.  She never complained about anything else the press wrote about her but apparently to be called an "actress" was beyond the pale.

Solanas’ state of mind about the fate of her intellectual property can be explained by it being no secret Warhol was inclined to use (the words “borrow”, “appropriate” “steal” also often used) and regards it all as “his art”.  For weeks leading up to the attempt on his life, repeatedly she’d called his office with first requests and then demands about her manuscript, culminating with threats at which point Warhol stopped taking her calls; the next call she made was in person and she shot him and an art gallery owner with who he was discussing an exhibition (he received minor injuries as (as collateral damage).  Warhol was declared dead although ambulance staff stabilized him.  Calmly, Solanas left the building and several hours later, approached a policeman in Times Square, handed over her two guns and told him: “He had too much control over my life.”  Unsurprisingly, a judge ordered a psychiatric evaluation and she received a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia but despite this, she was found competent to stand trial and pleaded guilty to “reckless assault with intent to harm”; sentenced to three years incarceration (including time served) in the Matteawan Hospital for the Criminally Insane (1892-1977). She was released late in 1971.  Solanas never renounced the S.C.U.M. manifesto nor lost faith in its capacity to change the world but her her mental health continued to decline and reports indicate she became increasingly paranoid and unstable. She spent her last years in a single-occupancy welfare hotel in San Francisco, where, alone, she died in 1988, the official cause of death listed as "pneumonia".  

  

Her fame lasted beyond fifteen minutes and one unintended consequence of her act was the S.C.U.M. Manifesto finally found a commercial publisher.  In certain feminist and anarchist circles she remains a cult figure although, it takes some intellectual gymnastics to trace a lineal path from her manifesto to the work of even the more radical of the later-wave feminists such as Andrea Dworkin (1946-2005), Susan Brownmiller (b 1935) and Catharine MacKinnon (b 1946).  Solanas to this day still is usually described as a “feminist” or “radical feminist” but, given the implication of the manifesto, it would seem more accurate to label her a misandrist (one who exhibits a hatred of or a prejudice against men), a world view which attracts many because, to be fair, there are any number of reasons to hate men.  Misandry was a late nineteenth century formation, the construct being mis- (in the sense of “hatred”) +‎ -andry (men), by analogy with the more commonly used misogyny (hatred of or a prejudice against women); the inspiration was the Ancient Greek μισανδρία (misandría), the construct being μισέω (miséō) (hate) + ἀνήρ (anḗr) (man).

Post operative image of Andy Warhol’s torso.

Warhol required surgery to his spleen, stomach, liver, esophagus and lungs; the damage he suffered to a range of internal organs not uncommon among those shot at close range; the bullet ricocheted off a rib, accounting for the lateral trajectory.  Although the Beretta M1935 automatic (in .32ACP) she used is not regarded as a “big calibre” (the .32 listed by most as a “small bore”), a single shot from one, especially at close-range, can be lethal and an wound from even a smaller load (like the .22 she was also carrying) can be fatal.  In the context of handguns, a “big calibre” load usually is defined as one with a diameter of .40 inches (10mm) or larger and of those there are many including .44, .45 & .50 although “magnum” versions of smaller bore ammunition (.22, .357 etc) can match many larger loads in “stopping power”.

Attempted murder weapon: Beretta M1935 automatic in .32ACP.

Interviewed later, Warhol reflected: “Before I was shot [June, 1968], I always thought that I was more half-there than all-there - I always suspected that I was watching TV instead of living life. People sometimes say that the way things happen in the movies is unreal, but actually it’s the way things happen to you in life that’s unreal. The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it’s like watching television - you don’t feel anything. Right when I was being shot and ever since, I knew that I was watching television. The channels switch, but it’s all television.”

Gun (1982), synthetic polymer paint and silkscreen ink on canvas by Andy Warhol.

Artistically, the shooting had consequences.  Warhol became more guarded, abandoning projects like filmmaking which required so much contact with people and stopping the production of controversial art which might attract more murderers and focusing on business, in 1969 founding what became Interview magazine in 1969.  Although there had in his previous output been evidence of an interest in death and violence, after the shooting, often he would visited the theme of death, painting a series of skulls and one of guns, a weapon with which he now had an intensely personal connection.  He was certainly not unaware what happened that day in June 1968 was a turning point in his life, some twenty years later noting in his diary: “I said that I wasn’t creative since I was shot, because after that I stopped seeing creepy people.”

Docker

Docker (pronounced dok-er)

(1) In seaport operations, a laborer on shipping docks engaged in the loading or unloading of a vessel (and sometimes “other duties as required”); known in North America also as a longshoreman or stevedore, the latter also used elsewhere in the English-speaking world (“stevedore” can also be used of corporations which run loading & unloading operations).  The general idea is of a “dock-worker”.

(2) A person who cuts off or trims the tails or (less commonly the ears) of certain animals used in agricultural production (used sometimes also of the tools they employ).

(3) In military aviation, a device used to connect (dock together) two aircraft during air-to air refueling operations.

(4) In aerospace, the assembly used to permit two space craft to “dock”, providing a port for access between the two.

(5) In engineering, any device allowing the temporary connection of two components.

(6) In commercial food preparation, as “roller docker”, a utensil resembling a small rolling pin with spikes, used to pierce dough to prevent over-rising or blistering, the device creating in food: “docker holes”.

(7) One who engages in the sexual practice of docking (where the tip of one participant's penis is inserted into the foreskin of their partner (the success of the act said to be judged by the “extent & effect” of the overlap).  It is a niche activity.

1755–1765: The construct was dock + -er.  Dock was from the Middle English dokke, from the Old English docce, from the Proto-West Germanic dokkā, from the Proto-Germanic dukkǭ (similar forms including the Old Danish dokke (water-dock), the West Flemish dokke & dokkebladeren (coltsfoot, butterbur), from the primitive Indo-European dhew (dark) (which may be compared with the Latvian duga (scum, slime on water)).  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.  Docker is a noun, docking is a noun & verb and docked is a verb; the noun plural is dockers.

The use in agriculture (one who cuts off or trims the tails or (less commonly) ears of certain animals) dates from the early nineteenth century.  Although there are dockers who dock, in English there is no tradition of dockee (that which has been docked) which is unusual in English when referring to devices which sometimes use the male-female anatomical descriptor model.  In IT, there have been many “docks” (the best known being “docking stations” which allow something like a laptop temporarily to be tethered, gaining ports and such to allow various components and peripheral devices to be attached) but there never seem to have been “dockers”.

More than one authoritative site has rated the team song of Western Australia's Freemantle Dockers (1994) AFL (Australian Football League, which evolved from the old VFL (Victorian Football League (which apparently still own the AFL)) to become the national competition for football played under "Australian Rules") the worst of the 18 currently in use.  Some on-line polls have confirmed the view but Dockers’ fans, when offered four alternatives, opted to retain the original, presumably on the assumption opposition fans must hate hearing it played (it's a tradition to play the winning team's song at the end of each match).  The team’s name is an allusion to the docks at the Port of Freemantle.

Lindsay Lohan Leather Jacket (078LCJ) by Docker Trend, Kyiv.

The surname Docker was from the ancient Anglo-Saxon culture of the Britain Isles and was occupational, the name for a trapper of small game and translating literally as “cut the hare's tail”, derived from the Old English dokc (cut off) and hare, a very old word which meant then what it means now.  So the surname definitely predates the Norman Conquest and the oldest known instance is the parish records in what is now the county of Cumberland. However, there was also a second linguistic fork for the surname and that was not occupational but locational, traced back to two small hamlets in Westmoreland and Lancashire, both named “Docker”, the name meaning “the grazing land in the valley”, from the pre seventh century Olde Norse-Viking dokr.  Quite when the settlements were founded or named is uncertain but village in Westmoreland appears in the charters of the county for the year 1155 as Docherga, while the associated surname seems not to have been recorded before the sixteenth century and, given the high reliability of English parish records, is believed to indicate it had not previously been in use. 

Historians suggest this suggests it’s possible the village was “cleared” in the period of the Enclosure Acts (a kind of “land grab” by the ruling class, a tradition which continues to this day) which occupied parliamentary time for over three hundred years between 1450-1750.  Under these acts, tenant farmers gradually were deprived of their ancient rights to the “land held in common” for grazing & tilling, forced from their humble homes to seek shelter and employment elsewhere, often from the very beneficiaries of the “enclosure project”.  One consequence of this was those expelled often took or were given as their surname the name of their former village.  There were (not unusually) many alternative spellings of what evolved as “Docker”, the form not standardized until well into the 1800s, the alternatives including Docker, Dockwra, Dockray, Dockwray & Dockrell, some differences existing even within the one family, a not uncommon practice of “branch differentiation” in the pre-modern era.  In a phenomenon typical of the period of European colonization, as the British Empire spread around the globe, the Docker name travelled thus and is now known in Australia, the US, Canada, the West Indies, New Zealand, a number of African states and the Indian sub-continent.

The Docker Daimlers

In the slang of English divorce lawyers, chatelaine was a term for a sub-set of husband-hunting women for whom the most important criterion in their search was the quality of the house which came with the prey, the play on words based on the ancient role of the chatelaine being the "the keeper of the castle".  Applied mostly either to the impoverished gentry or aspirational young ladies seeking upward-mobility, chatelaines were famously good "housekeepers"; after the divorce often "she kept the house".  The more accessible modern form is gold-digger.  An exemplar of the type was the admirable Norah Docker (Lady Docker, formerly Callingham, formerly Collins, née Turner; 1906–1983) a dance-club hostess who was thrice-married, each husband proving more lucrative than the last.  Her most famous acquisition was Sir Bernard Docker (1896–1978), chairman of the Daimler motor company for which she helped design half a dozen cars; known as the Docker Daimlers, they were an acquired taste but certainly large and conspicuous as intended, each generating much publicity though it's doubtful they made any positive contribution to Daimler's bottom line.  Some of the more generous critics were prepared to concede some weren't as bad as the others.

1955 Daimler DK400 Golden Zebra

The last of the Docker Daimlers, the Golden Zebra was a two-door fixed head coupé (FHC) with coachwork by Hooper, built on the existing DK400 (1954-1959) chassis.  The interior was finished with an African theme, the dashboard of ivory and the upholstery in zebra-skin while external metal trim was gold-plated.  Lady Docker personally chose the zebra skin, claiming she found mink unpleasantly hot.  It was first shown at the 1955 Paris Motor Show and it's of note this stylistic mashup of pre-war motifs and mid-century modernism appeared in the same building used for the debut of the Citroën DS (1955-1975) which, although with some parts under the skin more ancient than any of the Daimler's underpinnings, contained enough that was revolutionary to give the crowds a vision of the future, even though decades would elapse before some of its implications were realized.

Sir Bernard (with cigar, left) and Lady Docker (in mink) unveiling the "Golden Daimler", Earls Court Motor Show, London, 1951.

Imposing though it was, dimensionally, being DK400-based, the Golden Zebra was actually less extravagant than some Daimlers built on the even bigger DE chassis (1946-1953) which was the last car in the UK with a straight-eight engine offered for general sale, the even more exclusive Rolls-Royce Phantom IV (1950-1956) available only to crowned royalty and heads of state.  The UK in the early 1950s was still living through a period of post-war austerity but the Docker Daimlers were surprisingly well-received by the public which seemed to enjoy the splash of color they brought to the dreariness of the time when some consumer products were still rationed.  The reaction of critics generally was less kind, the “Docker Specials” decried variously as “archaic”, “irrelevant”,  “vulgar” or that worst of English insults: “tiresome”.  It’s thought also not a coincidence that it was during Lady Docker’s supervision of the Daimler drawing boards the royal family’s automotive allegiance switched to Rolls-Royce, the association pre-dating even the royal warrant granted in 1902 by King Edward VII (1841–1910; King of the UK & Emperor of India 1901-1910), shortly after his accession to the throne, a Daimler 6hp mail phaeton delivered to Buckingham Palace on 28 March 1900, fulfilling an order place by the king while still Prince of Wales.  So the Daimlers, in the Royal Mews since the nineteenth century, began to be relegated to secondary roles and another wouldn’t be ordered until well after Jaguar's takeover of the company in 1959.

Straight-eight Docker Daimler "Blue Clover" (1952), trimmed in blue lizard skin, now on display in a museum in Seoul, RoK (Republic of Korea (South Korea)).

Lady Docker’s intention however was to achieve sensation and if some thought the cars vulgar so be it, subscribing to the axiom of both Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) & Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945): “It doesn’t matter what people are saying about us as long as they’re saying something.”  To ensure her vision would be rendered in metal as she intended, she had her obedient husband appoint her to the board’s of Hooper’s, (the corporation’s in-house coach-builder) as a director with “special responsibility for styling matters”.  The irony was that unlike those on the Daimler board, she was quite correct in perceiving their cars had become staid and unexciting with a change of stylistic direction required; the problem was the direction she followed.  When Lady Docker’s first project, the spectacular “Golden Daimler” was unveiled at the 1951 Earls Court Motor Show, it certainly got people talking, mostly about money.  The “Golden” appellation, while not a designation of a victory, was well deserved, gold plate applied to the trim where chrome usually appeared, some 7000 gold stars appearing on the flanks, below the waistline.  Quickly the press did their calculations and determined the Stg£900 of the metal used would have been enough to purchase two small cars and a motor-cycle but when asked, Lady Docker explained: “It was practically impossible to obtain chrome.” which wasn't bad for the spur of the moment.  Inside, the theme continued, the headliner and upholstery in the rear compartment hand-made from gold silk brocade woven on a loom, the timberwork all Australian camphor, selected for its honey-gold hue, the traditional burl walnut just too dark.  The timber fittings were fine examples of the coach-builder’s craft, a matched pair of cabinets containing a gold & crystal cocktail set to the left while in the right sat a gold and black china tea set with a gold-plated Thermos tea jug.  Built into the electrically-operated central divider were two folding picnic tables, able to be laid with the linen tablecloth and napkins kept in a natty little container while just in case a fingernail might be damaged when one was adjusting the gold-plated radio controls in the armrests, a vanity set (in a gold case) was provided.  Really, Lady Docker thought of everything.

Straight-eight Docker Daimler "Stardust" (1954), trimmed in hand-woven silver silk brocatelle and pale blue crocodile leather, the coachwork (left), Lady Docker "touching up" (centre) and the rear compartment (right).  

Unfortunately, the comparison which was obvious was with the new Daimler Regency (1951-1958) which also made its debut at Earls Court.  The Regency was emblematic of the very problem Lady Docker had identified: it was conservative, staid and owed more to the past than the present, let alone the future; compared with the modernist lines being seen in the US and even Europe, it looked like something which could have come from a decade earlier.  The company was aware the world was moving on without them and did embark on new projects, developing two of the best V8 engines of the post-war years (in 2.5 litre (155 cubic inch) & 4.6 litre (278 cubic inch) displacements) and even an unexpected sports car which used the smaller V8.  The car was not a success and while the drive-train attracted unqualified praise, reaction to the rest of the package was muted at best; it was an engine crying out for a car and typified the company’s piecemeal approach to things, culminating in Jaguar’s takeover in 1959.  Jaguar had some fine cars but really needed V8 engines for the US market so it would have seemed logical to combine the two but, obsessed with the notion engines should have six or twelve cylinders, neglected the opportunity and made only niche use of the eights, retiring them in 1969.

Docker Daimler "Silver Flash" (1953).  

As a design, the Silver Flash was the most interesting of the Dockers and was a representation perhaps of what a large FHC (fixed head coupé) would have looked like circa 1946, had there been no war.  What can't be guessed is whether the design trends in the US, Europe and the UK (all with different traditions although always exchanging influences) would have tended to drift apart or begin to assume the kind of "international style" which came to architecture in the post-war years.

Satisfied however with what she had achieved in 1951, Lady Docker continued undeterred and oversaw the development of a further four “Docker Daimlers”, designed on the basis of “more of the same” (it's not known if she had in mind an old Docker family motto: Semper eadem (Always the same)).  Released annually, usually to a not uncritical reception but there was always the splash of publicity she craved so in that sense the designs worked.  Within the corporation though, as the 1950s dragged into middle-age, the lifestyle and spending habits (with Daimler’s money) of the Dockers was causing increasing disquiet and early in 1956, a “boardroom coup” was organized, the conspiracy culminating in May when a special meeting of the board was summoned at which Sir Bernard was voted out, his wife departing with him.  As if to exorcise the demons, the board ordered the Docker Daimlers be stripped of their expensive trimmings and sold.  Despite these vicissitudes, 

Slag

Slag (pronounced slag)

(1) The substantially fused and vitrified matter separated during the reduction of a metal from its ore; also called cinder.

(2) The scoria (the mass of rough fragments of pyroclastic rock and cinders produced during a volcanic eruption) from a volcano.

(3) In the post-production classification of coal for purposes of sale, the left-over waste for the sorting process; used also of the waste material (as opposed to by-product) from any extractive mining.

(4) In industrial processing, to convert into slag; to reduce to slag.

(5) In the production of steel and other metals, the scum that forms on the surface of molten metal.

(6) In commercial metallurgy, to remove slag from a steel bath.

(7) To form slag; become a slaglike mass.

(8) In slang, an abusive woman (historic UK slang, now a rare use).

(9) In slang, a term of contempt used usually by men of women with a varied history but now to some degree synonymous with “unattractive slut” (of UK origin but now in use throughout the English-speaking world and used sometimes also of prostitutes as a direct synonym, the latter now less common).

(10) In the slang of UK & Ireland, a coward (now regionally limited) or a contemptible person (synonymous with the modern “scumbag” (that use still listed by many as “mostly Cockney” but now apparently rare).

(11) In Australian slang, to spit.

(12) Verbally to attack or disparage somebody or something (usually as “slag off”, “slagged them”, “slagged it off” etc); not gender-specific and used usually in some unfriendly or harshly critical manner; to malign or denigrate.  Slang dictionaries note that exclusively in Ireland, “slagging off” someone (or something) can be used in the sense of “to make fun of; to take the piss; the tease, ridicule or mock” and can thius be an affectionate form, rather in the way “bastard” was re-purposed in Australian & New Zealand slang.

1545–1555: From the Middle Low German slagge & slaggen (slag, dross; refuse matter from smelting (which endures in Modern German as Schlacke)), from the Old Saxon slaggo, from the Proto-West Germanic slaggō, from the Proto-Germanic slaggô, the construct being slag(ōną)- (to strike) + -gô (the diminutive suffix).  Although unattested, there may have been some link with the Old High German slahan (to strike, slay) and the Middle Low German slāgen (to strike; to slay), the connection being that the first slag from the working of metal were the splinters struck off from the metal by being hammered.  Slāgen was from Proto-West Germanic slagōn and the Old Saxon slegi was from the Proto-West Germanic slagi.  Slag is a noun & verb, slagability, deslag, unslag & slaglessness are nouns, slagish, slagless, slagable, deslagged unslagged, slaggy & slaglike are adjectives and slagged, deslagged, unslagged, slagging, deslagging & unslagging are verbs; the noun plural is slags.  As an indication of how industry use influences the creation of forms, although something which could be described as “reslagging” is a common, it’s regarded as a mere repetition and a consequence rather than a process.

In the UK & Ireland, the term “slag tag” is an alternative to “tramp stamp”, the tattoo which appears on the lower back.  Both rhyming forms seem similarly evocative.

The derogatory slang use dates from the late eighteenth century and was originally an argot word for “a worthless person or a thug”, something thought derived from the notion of slag being “a worthless, unsightly pile” and from this developed the late twentieth century use to refer to women and this is thought to have begun life as a something close to a euphemism for “slut” although it was more an emphasis on “unattractiveness”.  The most recent adaptation is that of “slagging off” (verbal (ie oral, in print, on film etc) denigration of someone or something, use documented since 1971 although at least one oral history traces it from the previous decade.  In vulgar slang, slag is one of the many words used (mostly) by men to disparage women.  It’s now treated as something akin to “slut” (in the sense of a “women who appears or is known to be of loose virtue) but usually with the added layer of “unattractiveness”.  The lexicon of the disparaging terms men have for women probably doesn’t need to precisely to be deconstructed and as an example, in the commonly heard “old slag”, the “old” likely operates often as an intensifier rather than an indication of age; many of those labeled “old slags” are doubtless quite young on the human scale.  Still, that there are “slags” and “old slags” does suggest men put some effort into product differentiation.

How slag heaps are created.

All uses of “slag”, figurative & literal, can be traced back to the vitreous mass left as a residue by the smelting of metallic ore, the fused material formed by combining the flux with gangue, impurities in the metal, etc.  Although there’s much variation at the margins, typically, it consists of a mixture of silicates with calcium, phosphorus, sulfur etc; in the industry it’s known also as cinder and casually as dross or recrement (the once also-used "scoria" seems now exclusively the property of volcanologists).  When deposited in place, the piles of slag are known as “slag heaps” and for more than a century, slag heaps were a common site in industrial regions and while they still exist, usually they’re now better managed (disguised).  A waste-product of steel production, slag can be re-purposed or recycled and, containing a mixture of metal oxides & silicon dioxide among other compounds, there is an inherent value which can be realized if the appropriate application can be found.  There are few technical problems confronting the re-use of slag but economics often prevent this; being bulky and heavy, slag can be expensive to transport so if a site suitable for re-use is distant, it can simply be too expensive to proceed.  Additionally, although slag can in close to its raw form be used for purposes such as road-base, if any reprocessing is required, the costs can be prohibitive.  The most common uses for slag include (1) Landfill reclamation, especially when reclaiming landfills or abandoned industrial sites, the dense material ideal for affording support & stability for new constructions, (2) the building of levees or other protective embankments where a large cubic mass is required, (3) in cement production in which ground granulated blast furnace slag (GGBFS) can be used as a supplementary component material of cement, enhancing the workability, durability and strength of concrete, (4) manufacturing including certain ceramics & glass, especially where high degrees of purity are not demanded, (5) as a soil conditioner in agriculture to add essential nutrients to the soil and improve its structure, (6) as a base for road-building and (7) as an aggregate in construction materials such as concrete and asphalt.  The attraction of recycling slag has the obvious value in that it reduces the environmental impact of steel production but it also conserves natural resources and reduces the impact of the mining which would otherwise be required.  However, the feasibility of recycling slag depends on its chemical composition and the availability of an appropriate site.

Harold Macmillan, Epsom Derby, Epsom Downs Racecourse, Surrey, 5 June 1957.

The word “slag” has been heard in the UK’s House of Commons in two of the three senses in which it’s usually deployed.  It may have been used also in the third but the Hansard reporters are unlikely to have committed that to history.  In 1872, Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881, UK prime-minister Feb-Dec 1868 & 1874-1880) cast his disapproving opposition leader’s gaze on the cabinet of William Gladstone (1809–1898; prime-minister 1868–1874, 1880–1885, Feb-July 1886 & 1892–1894) sitting on the opposite front bench and remarked: “Behold, a range of extinct volcanoes; not a flame flickers upon a single pallid crest.”.  Sixty-odd years later, a truculent young Harold Macmillan (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963) picked up the theme in his critique of a ministry although he was slagging off fellow Tories, describing the entire government bench as “a row of disused slag heaps”, adding that the party of Disraeli was now “dominated by second-class brewers and company promoters.”  Presumably Macmillan thought to be described as a “slag heap” was something worse than “extinct volcano” and one can see his point.  The rebelliousness clearly was a family trait because in 1961, when Macmillan was prime-minister, his own son, by then also a Tory MP, delivered a waspish attack on his father’s ministry.  When asked in the house the next day if there was “a rift in the family or something”, Macmillan said: “No.”, pausing before adding with his Edwardian timing: “As the House observed yesterday, the Honorable Member for Halifax has both intelligence and independence.  How he got them is not for me to say."

Lindsay Lohan and the great "slagging off Kettering scandal".

Although lacking the poise of Macmillan, Philip Hollobone (b 1964; Tory MP for Kettering since 2005), knew honor demanded he respond to Lindsay Lohan “slagging off” his constituency.  What caught the eye of the outraged MP happened during Lindsay Lohan’s helpful commentary on Twitter (now known as X) on the night of the Brexit referendum in 2016, the offending tweet appearing after it was announced Kettering (in the Midlands county of Northamptonshire) had voted 61-39% to leave the EU: “Sorry, but Kettering where are you?”

Philip Hollobone MP, official portrait (2020).

Mr Hollobone, a long-time "leaver" (a supporter of Brexit), wasn’t about to let a mean girl "remainer's" (one who opposed Brexit) slag of Kettering escape consequences and he took his opportunity in the House of Commons, saying: “On referendum night a week ago, the pro-Remain American actress, Lindsay Lohan, in a series of bizarre tweets, slagged off areas of this country that voted to leave the European Union.  At one point she directed a fierce and offensive tweet at Kettering, claiming that she had never heard of it and implying that no one knew where it was.  Apart from the fact that it might be the most average town in the country, everyone knows where Kettering is.”  Whether a phrase like “London, Paris, New York, Kettering” was at the time quite as familiar to most as it must have been to Mr Hollobone isn’t clear but he did try to help by offering advice, inviting Miss Lohan to switch on Kettering's Christmas lights that year, saying it would “redeem her political reputation”.  Unfortunately, that proved not possible because of a clash of appointments but thanks to the Tory Party, at least all know the bar has been lowered: Asking where a town sits on the map is now “slagging it off”.  Learning that is an example of why we should all "read our daily Hansards", an observation Mr Whitlam apparently once made, suggesting his estimation of the reading habits of the general population might have differed from reality.

Screen grab from the "apology video" Lindsay Lohan sent the residents of Kettering advising she'd not be able to switch on their Christmas lights because of her "busy schedule".

Targa

Targa (pronounced ta-gah)

(1) A model name trade-marked by Porsche AG in 1966.

(2) In casual use, a generic description of cars with a removable roof panel between the windscreen and a truncated roof structure ahead of the rear window.

1966 (in the context of the Porsche): From the Targa Florio race in Sicily, first run in 1906 and last staged in its classic form in 1973.  In many European languages, targa (or derivatives) existed and most were related to the Proto-Germanic targǭ (edge), from the primitive Indo-European dorg- (edge, seam), from the Old Norse targa (small round shield) and the Old High German zarga (edge, rim).  The modern Italian targa (plate, shingle; name-plate; number plate or license plate; plaque; signboard; target (derived from the rounded oval or rectangle shield used in medieval times)) was ultimately from the Frankish targa (shield).  In the Old English targa (a light shield) was also from the Proto-Germanic targǭ and was cognate with the Old Norse targa and the Old High German zarga (source of the German Zarge); it was the source of the Modern English target.  The Proto-Germanic targǭ dates from the twelfth century and “target” in the sense of “round object to be aimed at in shooting” emerged in the mid eighteenth century and was used originally in archery.  Targa is a noun; the noun plural is targas.

1974 Leyland P76 Targa Florio in Omega Navy, Aspen Green & Nutmeg (without the side graphics).  Like all P76s, the Targa Florio effortlessly could fit a a 44 (imperial) gallon (53 US gallon; 205 litre) in its trunk and while it's unlikely may buyers took advantage of the feature, it was an indication of the trunk's (boot) impressive capacity.  The reputed ability to handle fours sets of golf clubs was probably more of a selling point but unfortunately, as the P76's rapid demise indicates, there just weren't that many golfers. 

Although, especially when fitted with the 4.4 litre (269 cubic inch) V8, it was in many ways at least as good as the competition, the Australian designed and built Leyland P76 is remembered as the Antipodean Edsel; a total failure.  It was doomed by poor build quality, indifferent dealer support and the misfortune of being a big (in local terms) car introduced just before the first oil shock hit and the world economy sunk into the severe recession which marked the end of the long, post war boom.  It vanished in 1975, taking with it Leyland Australia but it did have one quixotic moment of glory, setting the fastest time on Special Stage 8 of the 1974 World Cup Rally, run on the Targa Florio circuit in Palermo, Sicily.  The big V8 machine out-paced the rest of the field by several minutes and to mark the rare success, Leyland Australia built 488 "Targa Florio" versions.  Available in Omega Navy, Aspen Green or Nutmeg (a shade of brown which seemed to stalk the 1970s), the special build was mechanically identical to other V8 P76s with automatic transmission but did include a sports steering wheel and aluminium road wheels, both intended for the abortive Force 7, a two-door version which was ungainly but did offer the functionality of a hatchback.  In a typical example Leyland Australia's (and that of British Leyland generally), the Force 7 was being developed just as the other local manufacturers were in about to drop their big two-doors, demand having dwindled after a brief vogue.  Only 10 of the 60-odd prototype Force 7V coupés survived the crusher but 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 charming although En dépit de tout (In spite of everything) might better have capture the moment. 

Except for those which (usually) stick to numbers or alpha-numeric strings (Mercedes-Benz the classic example), coming up with a name for a car can be a tricky business, especially if someone objects.  In 1972, Ford of England was taken to court by Granada Television after choosing to call their new car a “Granada” though the judge gave the argument short shrift, pointing out (1) it was unlikely anyone would confuse a car with a TV channel and (2) neither the city nor the province of Granada in Spain’s Andalusia region had in 1956 complained when the name was adopted for the channel.  The suit was thrown out and the Ford Granada went on to such success the parent company in the US also used the name.

Spot the difference.  1966 Ford Mustang Fastback (left) and 1966 Ford T5 Fastback (right).

In Cologne, Ford’s German outpost in 1965 had less success when trying to sell the Mustang in the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany, the old West Germany (1949-1990)) because Krupp AG held (until December 31 1979) exclusive rights to the name which it used on a range of heavy trucks including some configured as fire engines.  A Mustang couldn’t be confused with a truck (though some snobby types in France might have suggested otherwise) but Ford’s legal advice was to settle rather than sue so they attempted to buy the rights.  Their offer (a reputed US$10,000) was rebuffed so for years Mustangs in the FRG were sold as the “T5” which was the car’s project name during its development.  Almost identical to the US version but for the badges, it was one of the most popular US cars sold in Europe, aided by the then attractive US$-Deutsche Mark exchange rate and its availability in military PX (Post Exchange) stores, service personnel able to buy at a discount and subsequently have the car shipped back to the US at no cost.

The badges: As they appeared on the early (1964-1966) Mustangs in most of the world (left), the T-5 badge used on early Mustangs sold in Germany (centre) and the (non-hyphenated) T5 used in Germany between 1967 and 1979

Visually, the changes which distinguished a T5 from a Mustang were slight and included (1) wheel covers with a plain black centre. (2) the word “Mustang” being removed from horn ring & gas (petrol) cap and (3) a “T5” badge replacing the “Mustang” script on the flanks.  Other than these cosmetic items, mechanical changes were limited to suspension settings (including adding the shock-tower cross-brace fitted to the Shelby GT350s) to better suit continental roads and the fitting of European-specification lighting.  Curiously, although Ford obviously didn’t make any effort when coming up with the “T5” name, it did for 1965 create a “T-5” badge (part number C5ZZ-6325622A) to replace the “Mustang” script on the front fenders and it was thought necessary later to do a re-design, the new one (part number CZZ-16098C) dropping the hyphen and placing the centred characters vertically.  Apparently content, the new badge was used until 1979 when Krupp’s copyright expired and the Mustang’s badges became global.  As was common, there were also running changes, a dash bezel above the glove box (with the T5 designation) introduced during 1967 and continued the next year while the 1971 range received a new dash emblem which sat in the centre, above the radio and heater controls.  However, anyone driving or sitting in a T5, unless they were an expert in such things or unusually observant, probably wouldn’t have noticed the car was in any way different from a Mustang of that vintage.

Scenes from Rote Sonne (1970, promotional poster, centre): A 1966 Ford T5 (left) and some of the cast (right) with a (circa 1966) Volkswagen Type 1 (Beetle).  Note the jackboots.

Directed by Rudolf Thome (b 1939), the plotline of Rote Sonne revolves around four young Fräuleins (Peggy, Sylvie, Christine & Isolde) who have entered into a mortiferous pact to use their charms to lure men into their grasp as a prelude to murdering them.  Maybe the foursome had read Valerie Solanas's (1936-1988), S.C.U.M. Manifesto (1967) which, even today, is still about as terminal as feminism gets.  Although criticized as an example of the “pornography of violence” the film genuinely did fit into the contemporary feminist narratives of the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990), a place in which ripples from the street protests which swept Germany in 1968 were still being felt and it was in 1970 the terrorist collective Rote Armee Fraktion (Red Army Faction (RAF)) was formed; In the English-speaking world it’s better (if misleadingly) known as the Baader–Meinhof Gang.

1964 Daimler (C-Specification) SP250 (née Dart) in London Metropolitan Police configuration.

The wire wheels are a later edition, all police SP250s supplied originally with steel wheels & "dog dish" hubcaps); many (non-police) SP250s have also subsequently been fitted with the wheels.  Scotland Yard purchased some 30 SP250s (all automatics) attracted by their 120+ mph (195 km/h) performance, allowing them to out-pace all but the fastest two and four-wheeled vehicles then on the road.  Police forces in Australia and New Zealand also adopted SP250s as highway patrol vehicles.

The Daimler SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the attractively alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast.  Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.  Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management also reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys.  The Dodge Dart didn't for long stay big, the name in 1964 re-used for a compact line although it was the generation made between 1967-1977 which was most successful and almost immediately Chrysler regretted the decision to cease production, the replacement range (the Dodge Aspen & Plymouth Volaré (1976-1980)) one of the industry's disasters.  The name was revived in 2012 for a new Dodge Dart, a small, front wheel drive (FWD) car which was inoffensive but dreary and lasted only until 2016.  The SP250 was less successful still, not even 3000 made between 1959-1964, something attributable to (1) the unfortunate styling, (2) the antiquated chassis, (3) the lack of development which meant there were basic flaws in the body engineering of the early versions and (4) the lack of interest by Jaguar which in 1960 had purchased Daimler, its interest in the manufacturing capacity acquired rather than the product range.  It was a shame because the SP250's exquisite 2.5 litre (155 cubic inch) V8 deserved better.  

Lindsay Lohan with Porsche 911 Targa 4 (997), West Hollywood, 2008.  The Targa was reportedly leased by her former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (b 1977).

Sometimes though, numbers could upset someone.  Even in the highly regulated EEC (European Economic Community, the origin of the European Union (EU)) of the 1960s, a company in most cases probably couldn’t claim exclusive rights to a three number sequence but Peugeot claimed exactly that when Porsche first showed their new 901 in 1963.  Asserting they possessed the sole right to sell in France car with a name constructed with three numbers if the middle digit was a zero, the French requested the Germans rename the thing.  It was the era of Franco-German cooperation and Porsche did just that, announcing the new name would be 911, a machine which went on to great things and sixty years on, remains on sale although, the lineage is obvious, only the odd nut & bolt is interchangeable between the two.  So all was well that ends well even if the French case still seems dubious because Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling in France cars labelled 200 or 300 (and would soon offer the 600). Anyway, this time, it was the project name (901) which was discarded (although it remained as the prefix on part-numbers) and surviving examples of the first 82 cars produced before the name was changed are now highly prized by collectors.

Sometimes however, the industry uses weird names for no obvious reason and some of the cars produced for the JDM (Japanese domestic market) are, to Western ears, truly bizarre though perhaps for a Japanese audience they’re compellingly cool.  Whatever might be the rationale, the Japanese manufacturers have give the world some memorable monikers including (1) from Honda the Vamios Hobio Pro & the That's, (2) from Mazda the Titan Dump, the Scrum Truck & the Bongo Brawny, (3) from Mitsubishi the Super Great, the eK-Classy, the Town Box, the Mirage Dingo Teddy Bear & the Homy Super Long, (4) from Suzuki the Solio Bandit & the Mighty Boy, (5) from Toyota the Royal Lounge Alphard, (6) from Subaru the Touring Bruce, (7) from Nissan the Big Thumb, the Elgrand Highway Star & the Cedric and (8) from Cony, the Guppy.

1964 Porsche 901 (left), 1968 Porsche 911L Targa (soft window) (centre) and 1969 Porsche 911S Targa (right)

Compared with that lot, Porsche deciding to call a car a Targa seems quite restrained.  Porsche borrowed the name from Targa Florio, the famous race in the hills of Sicily first run in 1906 and where Porsche in the 1950s had enjoyed some success.  Long, challenging and treacherous, it originally circumnavigated the island but the distance was gradually reduced until it was last run in its classic form in 1973 although in even more truncated form it lingered until 1977.  The construct of the name of the Targa Florio, the race in Italy from which Porsche borrowed the name, was Targa (in the sense of “plate” or “shield” + Florio, a tribute to Vincenzo Florio (1883-1959), a rich Sicilian businessman, automobile enthusiast and scion of a prominent family of industrialists and sportsmen; it was Vincenzo Florio who in 1906 founded the race.  Porsche won the race seven times between between 1963-1970 and took victory in 1973 in a 911 Carrera RSR, the car which in its street-legal (the Carrera RS) form remains among the most coveted of all the 911s and many replicas have been created.  Porsche didn't make any 1973 Carrera RS Targas; all were coupés.

1976 Porsche 914 2.0 with factory-fitted heckblende in Nepal Orange over black leatherette with orange & black plaid inserts.  All the mid-engined 914 built for public sale had a targa top although for use in competition the factory did a few with a fixed roof to gain additional rigidity.  The 914 was the first of a number of attempts by Porsche’s engineers to convince customers there were better configurations than the rear-engine layout used on the 911 & 912.  The customers continued to demand 911s and, the customer always being right, rear-engined 911s remain available to this day.  Porsche now offers front & mid-engined models so presumably honor is thought satisfied on both sides.   

1938 Packard 1605 Super Eight Sedanca de Ville by Barker.

The idea of a vehicle with a removable roof section over the driver is more ancient even than the Porsche 911.  Now, a “town car” is imagined as something small and increasingly powered in some Greta Thunberg (b 2003) approved way but in the US, what was sold as a “Town Car” used to be very big, very thirsty (for fossil fuels) and a prodigious emitter of greenhouse gasses.  The idea had begun in Europe as the coupé de ville, deconstructed as the French coupé (an elliptical form of carosse coupé (cut carriage)) and the past participle of couper (to cut) + de ville (French for “for town”).  So, it was, like the horse-drawn coupé carriage, a smaller conveyance for short-distance travel within cities, often just for two passengers who sat sometimes in an enclosed compartment and sometimes under a canopy while the driver was always exposed to the elements.  In the UK, the style was often advertised as the clarence carriage.  The coach-builders of the inter-war years created naming practices which were not consistent across the industry but did tend to be standardized within individual catalogues.  In the US, reflecting the horse-drawn tradition, the coupé de ville was Anglicized as coupe de ville and appeared as both “town brougham” and “town car”, distinguished by the enclosed passenger compartment (trimmed often in cloth) and the exposed driver who sat on more weather resistant leather upholstery.

1974 Lincoln Continental Town Car.  The big Lincolns of the 1970s are about as remote as can be imagined from the original idea of something small and agile for use in congested cities but Ford also called this body style the "pillared hardtop" so by then, linguistic traditions clearly meant little.

Dating from the 1920s, a variant term was “Sedanca de ville”, briefly used to describe a particular configuration for the roof but so attractive was the word it spread and soon there appeared were Sedancas and Sedanca coupés.  Like many designations in the industry, it soon ceased to carry an exact meaning beyond the front seats being open to the skies although by the 1920s there was usually a detachable or folding (even some sliding metal versions were built) roof and windscreens had become a universal fitting.  For a while, there probably was (unusually in an industry which often paid scant attention to the details of etymology) an understanding a Sedanca de ville was a larger vehicle than a Sedanca coupé but the former term became the more generally applied, always on the basis of the ability of the driver’s compartment to be open although it’s clear many of the vehicles were marketed towards owner-drivers rather than those with chauffeurs, that cohort having moved towards fully enclosed limousines.  It’s from the Sedanca tradition the US industry later picked up the idea of the “town car” although the association was vague and had nothing to do with an open driver’s cockpit; it was understood just as a model designation which somehow implied “prestige”.

1968 Triumph TR5 with “Surrey Top”.

Porsche had since the late 1940s been building roadsters and cabriolets but while the 911 (then known internally as Project 901) was under development, it was clear US regulators, in reaction to a sharply rising death toll on the nation’s highways, were developing some quite rigorous safety standards and a number of proposals had been circulated which threatened to outlaw the traditional convertible.  Thus the approach adopted which, drawing from the company’s experience in building race cars, essentially added a stylized roll-over bar which could accommodate a detachable roof-section over the passengers and a folding rear cover which included a Perspex screen (the solid rear glass would come later).  Actually, the concept wasn’t entirely novel, Triumph introducing something similar on their TR4 roadsters (1961-1967) although their design consisted of (1) a half-hard top with an integral roll-bar & fixed glass rear window and (2) two detachable (metal & vinyl) panels which sat above the passengers.  Customers universally (and still to this day) referred to this arrangement as the “Surrey Top” although Triumph insisted only the vinyl insert and its supporting frame was the “Surrey” while the rest of the parts collectively were the “Hard Top kit”.  The targaesque top was available on the TR5 (1967-1969), a de-tuned version of which was sold in North America as the TR250 with twin carburetors replacing the Lucas mechanical fuel-injection used in most other markets, the more exotic system then unable to comply with the new emission standards.

1953 Ford X-100 with roof panel retracted (left), the Quincunxed five carburetor apparatus atop the 317 cubic inch (5.2 litre) Lincoln Y-Block V8 (centre) and the built-in hydraulic jacking system in use (right).

However, long before Porsche told us there were Targa and a decade before even Triumph’s Surrey, Ford had displayed a two-seat “targa”.  In the years to come, things like the 1953 Ford X-100 would be called “concept cars” but that term didn’t then exist so Ford used the more familiar “dream car” and that does seem a more romantic way of putting it.  Reflecting the optimistic spirit of the early post-war years, the X-100 included a number of innovations including the use of radial-ply tyres, a built-in hydraulic jacking system, a rain-sensor which automatically would trigger an electric motor to close the sliding plexiglass roof panel, a built-in dictaphone, a telephone in the centre console and the convenience of heated seats and an electric shaver mounted in the glove compartment.  Some of the features became mainstream products, some not and while the “variable volume horn” wasn’t picked up by the industry, one did appear on the Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100; 1963-1981) although that was a rare supportive gesture.  It was also an age of imaginative labels and Ford called their quincunx induction system the “Multi-Plex”; while the engineering proved a cul-de-sac, the name did later get picked up by multi-screen suburban cinema complexes.  For the X-100, Ford used what was then a popular technique in the lunatic fringe of the burgeoning hot rod: an induction system using five carburettors in a Quincunx pattern.  Inherent difficulties and advances in engineering meant the fad didn’t last but the apparatus remins pleasing to those with a fondness of unusual aluminium castings and intricate mechanical linkages.  X-100 still exists and is displayed at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

1969 Mercury Marauder X-100.  In 1969, the blacked-out trunk (boot) lid and surrounds really was done by the factory.  During the administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), things were not drab and predictable.

In a number of quirky coincidences, the name X-100 seems to once have been an industry favourite because as well as the 1953 Ford “dream car”, it was the US Secret Service’s designation for the 1961 Lincoln Continental parade convertible in which John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated in Dallas, Texas.  One might have thought that macabre association might have been enough for the “X-100” tag to not again be used but, presumably because the Secret Service’s internal codes weren’t then general public knowledge, in 1969 Ford’s Mercury division released an X-100 as an up-market version of its second generation (1969-1970) Marauder.  Notionally, the X-100 was a “high performance” version but its 365 (gross) horsepower 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 was an option in lesser priced Marauders which meant the X-100, weighed down by the additional luxury fittings, was just a little slower than the cheaper models with the 429.  The market for “full-sized” high performance cars was anyway by 1969 in the final stages of terminal decline and although an encouraging 5635 were sold in 1969, sales the next year fell to 2646 and the X-100 was retired at the end of the 1970 and not replaced.  Most bizarre though was project X-100, a US$75 million (then a lot of what was at the time borrowed money) contract in 1943 awarded to Chrysler to design, machine and nickel-plate the inner surfaces of the cylindrical diffusers required to separate uranium isotopes.  Part of the Manhattan Project which built the world’s first atomic bombs, Chrysler built over 3,500 diffusers used at the plant in Oak Ridge, Tennessee and many were still in service as late as the 1980s.  Not until after the first A-bomb was used against Hiroshima in August 1945 did most of the X-100 project’s workers become aware of the use being made of the precision equipment they were producing.

Built by Ferrari: 1973 Dino 246 GTS with "chairs & flares" options.  The "GTS" stood for "Gran Tourismo Spider" but it was a true targa in the sense codified by Porsche.

The rhyming colloquialism “chairs and flares” (C&F to the Ferrari cognoscenti and these days the early Dinos are an accepted part of the family) is a reference to a pair of (separately available) options available on later production Dino 246s.  The options were (1) seats with inserts (sometimes in a contasting color) in the style used on the 365 GTB/4 (Daytona) & (2) wider Campagnolo Elektron wheels (which the factory only ever referred to by size) which necessitated flared wheel-arches.  In the early 1970s the factory wasn’t too punctilious in the keeping of records so it’s not known how many cars were originally built equipped with the wider (7½ x 14” vs 6½ x 14”) wheels but some privately maintained registers exist and on the basis of these it’s believed production was probably between 200-250 cars from a total run of 3569 (2,295 GT coupés & 1,274 GTS spiders (targa)).  They appear to have been most commonly ordered on UK & US market cars (although the numbers for Europe are described as “dubious” and thought an under-estimate; there are also an unknown number in other countries), the breakdown of verified production being:

246 GT: UK=22, Europe=5, US=5.
246 GTS: UK=21, Europe=2, US=91.

The “chairs and flares” cars are those which have both the Elektron option and the Daytona-style seats but because they were available separately, some were built with only one of the two, hence the existence of other slang terms in the Dino world including “Daytona package”, “Sebring spiders” and, in the UK, the brutish “big arches”.  In 1974, the Dino's option list (in US$) comprised:

Power windows: $270.00
Metallic paint: $270.00
Leather upholstery: $450.00
Daytona type central seat panels: $115.00
Air-conditioning: $770.00
14 x 7½ wheels & fender flares: $680.00
AM/FM/SW radio: $315.00
Electric antenna & speakers: $100.00

At a combined US$795.00, the C&F combo has proved a good investment, now adding significantly to the price of the anyway highly collectable Dino.  Although it's hard to estimate the added value because so many other factors influence calculation, all else being equal, the premium would seem to to be well over US$100,000.  Because it involves only wheels, upholstery and metal, the modifications are technically not difficult to emulate although the price of a modified vehicle will not match that of an original although unlike some of the more radical modifications to Ferraris (such as conversions to roadsters), creating a C&F out of a standard 246 seems not to lower its value.  These things are always relative; in 1974 the C&F option added 5.2% to the Dino GTS's list price and was just under a third the cost of a new small (in US terms a "sub-compact") car such as the Chevrolet Vega (1970-1977).

An enduring design: 2023 Porsche 911 Targa 4 (992).

Porsche didn’t complicate things, in 1966 offering the Targa as an alternative to the familiar coupé, then in series production since 1964.  Briefly, the company flirted with calling the car the 911 Flori but ultimately Targa was preferred and the appropriate trademarks were applied for in 1965, the factory apparently discovering targa in Italian means “number plate” or “license plate” only that year when the translators were working on international editions of the sales brochures.  The now familiar fixed, heated rear screen in safety glass was first offered in 1967 as an alternative to the one in fold-down plastic one and such was the demand it soon became the standard fitting.  The Targa carried over into the 911’s second and third generation being, re-designed for 1993 in a way that dispensed with the roll bar and it wouldn’t be until 2011 the familiar shape returned.

1970 Iso Grifo Targa (Series I, 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) Chevrolet V8, left) and 1971 Iso Grifo Can-Am Targa (Series II, 454 cubic inch (7.4 litre) Chevrolet V8, right).  The raised centre section on the hood (bonnet) of the big-block Grifos was known informally as the "penthouse"; it was required because the induction system sat higher than on the small-block cars.  Not all approved of the penthouse because they found it discordant with the otherwise flowing lines but its brutish functionalism seems a fitting tribute brute force beneath.

Among the small volume manufactures which in the post-war years found a lucrative niche in combining sensuous European coachwork with the cheap, powerful and robust American V8s, there was a focus on two-door coupés because (1) this was the example set by Ferrari and (2) there most demand in the segment clearly existed.  The ecosystem was sent extinct by the first oil shock of the early 1970s but in the era, some did offer convertibles and where not, there were specialists prepared to help.  There was though, the odd targa.  The achingly lovely Iso Grifo spyder (roadster) shown at the Geneva Motor Show in 1964 never reached production but in 1966, less than two years into the Grifo’s life (during which almost 100 had been made), the factory put a targa version on their stand at the Turin Motor Show.  It was only ever available to special order on a POA (price on application) basis and between then and the shuttering of the factory in 1974, only 17 were built, four of which were the Series II Can-Ams with the big-block Chevrolet V8.