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 told 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 they often "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 which, although as ancient under the skin as the Daimler, gave the crowds a vision of the future although it would be decades 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 previous Docker Daimlers which had been 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 The Jaguar 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, although not a victory designation, was well deserved, gold plate applied to the trim where chrome usually appeared, some 7000 gold stars appearing on the flanks, below the waistlines.  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.”  Inside , the theme continued, the headliner and upholstery in the rear compartment had 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 while 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) & 4.5 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 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 both, 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.

Obliterate

Obliterate (pronounced uh-blit-uh-reyt (U) or oh-blit-uh-reyt (non-U))

(1) To remove or destroy all traces of something; do away with; destroy completely.

(2) In printing or graphic design, to blot out or render undecipherable (writing, marks, etc.); fully to efface.

(3) In medicine, to remove an organ or another body part completely, as by surgery, disease, or radiation.

1590–1600: From the Latin oblitterātus, perfect passive participle of oblitterō (blot out), from oblinō (smear over) and past participle of oblitterāre (to efface; cause to disappear, blot out (a writing) & (figuratively) cause to be forgotten, blot out a remembrance), the construct being ob- (a prefixation of the preposition ob (in the sense of “towards; against”)) + litter(a) (also litera) (letter; script) + -ātus (-ate).  The suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  True synonyms include black out, eliminate, exterminate, annihilate, eradicate, delete, erase & expunge because to obliterate something is to remove all traces.  Other words often used as synonyms don’t of necessity exactly convey that sense; they include obscure, ravage, smash, wash out, wipe out, ax, cancel and cut.  Obliterate & obliterated are verds & adjetives, obliteration & obliterator are nouns, obliterature & obliterating are nouns, verb & adjective, obliterable & obliterative are adjectives and obliteratingly is an adverb; the noun plural is obliterations.

Social anxiety can be "obliterated".  Who knew?

The verb obliterate was abstracted from the phrase literas scribere (write across letters, strike out letters).  The noun obliteration (act of obliterating or effacing, a blotting out or wearing out, fact of being obliterated, extinction) dates from the 1650s, from the Late Latin obliterationem (nominative obliteratio), the noun of action from the past-participle stem of oblitterāre (to efface; cause to disappear, blot out (a writing) & (figuratively) cause to be forgotten, blot out a remembrance).  The related late fourteenth century noun oblivion (state or fact of forgetting, forgetfulness, loss of memory) was from the thirteenth century Old French oblivion and directly from the Latin oblivionem (nominative oblivio) (forgetfulness; a being forgotten) from oblivisci, the past participle of oblitus (forget) of uncertain origin.  Oblivion is if interest to etymologists because of speculation about a semantic shift from “to be smooth” to “to forget”, the theory based on the construct being ob- (using ob in the sense of “over”) + the root of lēvis (smooth).  For this there apparently exists no documentary evidence either to prove or disprove the notion.  The Latin lēvis (rubbed smooth, ground down) was from the primitive Indo-European lehiu-, from the root (s)lei- (slime, slimy, sticky).

Obliterature

The noun obliterature is a special derived form used in literary criticism, the construct being oblit(erate) + (lit)erature.  It describes works of literature in some way "obliterated or mad void", the most celebrated (or notorious according to many) being those which "interpreted" things in a manner not intended by the original author but the words is applied also to texts deliberately destroyed, erased or rendered unreadable, either as an artistic statement or as a result of censorship, neglect, or decay.  La biblioteca de Babel" (The Library of Babel (1941)) by Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986) was a short story which imagined a universe consisting of an infinite library containing every possible book but all volumes are some way corrupted or comprise only random strings of characters; all works wholly unintelligible and thus useless.  The chaotic library was symbolic of the most extreme example of obliterature in that all works had been rendered unreadable and devoid of internal meaning.

Nazis burning books, Berlin, 1933.

Probably for a long as writing has existed, there has been censorship (and its companion: self-censorship).  Some censorship is official government policy while countless other instances exist at institutional level, sometimes as a political imperative, some time because of base commercial motives.  The most infamous examples are literary works banned or destroyed as political or religious repression including occasions when the process was one of public spectacle such as the burning of books in Nazi Germany, aimed at Jewish, communist and other “degenerate or undesirable” authors.   The critique: “They burn the books they cannot write” is often attributed German-Jewish poet, writer and literary critic Heinrich Heine (1797–1856) whose work was among the thousands of volumes placed on a bonfire in Berlin in 1933 but it’s a paraphrase of a passage from his play Almansor (1821-1822), spoken by a Muslim after Christian had burned piles of the holy Quran: “Das war ein Vorspiel nur, dort wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man auch am Ende Menschen.”  (That was but a prelude; where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people as well.")

The Address Book (1983) by French conceptual artist Sophie Calle (b 1953) was based on an address book the author found in the street which, (after photocopying the contents) she returned to the owner.  She then contacted those in the book and used the information they provided to create a narrative about the owner, a man she had never met.  This she had published in a newspaper and the man promptly threatened to sue on the grounds of a breach of his right to privacy, demanding all examples of the work in its published form be destroyed.  Duly, the obliterature was performed.  Thomas Phillips' (1937–2022) A Humument: A treated Victorian novel (in various editions 1970-2016) is regarded by most critics as an “altered” book, a class of literature in which novel media forms (often graphical artwork) are interpolated to change the appearance and sometimes elements of meaning.  Phillips use as his base a Victorian-era novel (William (WH) Mallock's (1849–1923) A Human Document (1892)) and painted over its pages, leaving only select words visible to create new narratives, many of which were surreal.  This was obliterature as artistic device and it’s of historic interest because it anticipated many of the techniques of post modernism, multi-media productions and even meme-making.

Erasure Poetry takes an existing text and either erases or blacks-out (the modern redaction technique) words or passages to create a new poem from the remaining words; in the most extreme examples almost all the original is obliterated, with only fragments left to form a new work.  Ronald Johnson (1935–1998) was a US poet who in 1977 published the book-length RADI OS (1977), based on John Milton's (1608–1674) Paradise Lost (1667-1674) and used the redactive mechanism as an artistic device, space once used by the obliterated left deliberately blank, surrounding the surviving words.

Some critics and literary theorists include unfinished and fragmentary work under the rubric of obliterature and while that may seem a bit of a definitional stretch, the point may be that such texts in many ways can resemble what post modern (and post-post modern) obliterature practitioners publish as completed work.  There are many unfinished works by the famous which have been “brought to conclusion” by contracted authors, the critical response tending to vary from the polite to the dismissive although, in fairness, it may be that some things were left unfinished for good reasons.  The Portuguese author Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935) was extraordinarily prolific and apparently never discarded a single page, leaving a vast archive of unfinished, fragmented, and often unreadable manuscripts, the volume so vast many have never been deciphered.  It’s interesting to speculate that had Pessoa had access to word processors and the cloud whether he would have saved as much; if he’d lived in the age of the floppy diskette, maybe he’d have culled a bit.

The obliteration of animal carcasses with explosives

Strictly speaking, “to obliterate something” means “to remove or destroy all traces” which usually isn’t the case when explosives are used, the result more a wide dispersal of whatever isn’t actually vaporized but there’s something about the word which attracts those who blow-up stuff and they seem often to prefer obliteration to terms which might be more accurate.  As long as the explosion is sufficiently destructive, one can see their point and obliteration does memorably convey the implications of blowing-up stuff.  The word clearly enchanted the US Forest Service which in 1995 issued their classic document Obliterating Animal Carcasses with Explosives, helpfully including a step-by-step guide to the process.  Given it’s probably not a matter about which many have given much thought, the service explained obliterating large animal carcasses was an important safety measure in wilderness recreation areas where the remains might attract bears, or near picnic areas where people obviously wouldn’t want rotting flesh nearby.  A practical aspect also is that in many cases there is no way conveniently to move or otherwise dispose of a large carcass (such as a horse or moose which can weigh in excess of 500 kg (1100 lb) which might be found below a steep cut slope or somewhere remote.  So, where physical transportation is not practical, the chemistry and physics of explosives are the obvious alternative, the guide recommending fireline devices (specially developed coils containing explosive powder), used also to clear combustible materials in the path of a wildfire. 

Interestingly, the guide notes there will be cases in which the goal might not be obliteration.  In some ecosystems, what is most desirable is to disperse the carcass locally into the small chunks suited to the eating habits of predators in the area and when properly dispersed, smaller scavenging animals will break down the left-overs, usually within a week.  To effect a satisfactory dispersal, the guide recommends placing 20 lb (9 kg) of explosives on the carcass in key locations, then using a detonator cord to tie the charges together, the idea being to locate them on the major bones, along the spine.  However, in areas where there’s much human traffic, obliteration is required and the guide recommends placing 20 lb (9 kg) pounds of explosives on top and a similar load underneath although it’s noted this may be impossible if the carcass is too heavy, frozen into the ground, floating in water or simply smells too ghastly for anyone to linger long enough to do the job.  In that case, 55 lb (25 kg) of fireline should be draped over the remains although the actual amount used will depend on the size of the carcass, the general principle being the more explosives used, the greater the chance obliteration will be achieved.  Dispersal and obliteration are obviously violent business but it’s really just an acceleration of nature’s decomposition process.  Whereas a big beast like a horse can sit for months without entirely degrading, if explosives are used, in most cases after little more than a week it’d not be obvious an animal was ever there.  With regard to horses however, the guide does include the warning that prior to detonation, “horseshoes should be removed to minimize dangerous flying debris.”  Who knew?

It’s important enough explosives are used to achieve the desired result but in carcass disposal it's important also not to use too much.  In November 1970, the Oregon Highway Division was tasked with blowing up a 45-foot (14 m) eight-ton (8100 kg) decaying whale which lay on the shores near the town of Florence and they calculated it would need a half-ton (510 kg) of dynamite, the presumption being any small pieces would be left for seagulls and other scavengers.  Unfortunately, things didn’t go according to plan.  The viewing crowds had been kept a quarter-mile (400 m) from the blast-site but they were forced to run for cover as large chunks of whale blubber started falling on them and the roof of a car parked even further away was crushed.  Fortunately there were no injuries although most in the area were splattered with small pieces of dead whale.  Fifty years on, Florence residents voted to name a new recreation ground Exploding Whale Memorial Park in honor of the event.

Capsule

Capsule (pronounced kap-suhl (U), kap-sool (non-U) or kap-syool (non U))

(1) In pharmacology, a gelatinous case enclosing a dose of medicine.

(2) In biology and anatomy, a membranous sac or integument; a cartilaginous, fibrous, or membranous envelope surrounding any of certain organs or parts, especially (1) the broad band of white fibres (internal capsule) near the thalamus in each cerebral hemisphere and (2) the membrane surrounding the eyeball.

(3) Either of two strata of white matter in the cerebrum.

(4) The sporangium of various spore-producing organisms, as ferns, mosses, algae, and fungi.

(5) In botany, a dry dehiscent (one that that liberates its seeds by splitting, as in the violet, or through pores, as in the poppy) fruit, composed of two or more carpels.

(6) A small case, envelope, or covering.

(7) In aerospace, a sealed cabin, container, or vehicle in which a person or animal can ride in flight in space or at very high altitudes within the earth's atmosphere (also called space-capsule).

(8) In aviation, a similar cabin in a military aircraft, which can be ejected from the aircraft in an emergency, complete with crew and instruments etc; an outgrowth of the original escape device, the ejector-seat.  The concept is used also by some sea-going vessels and structures such as oil-rigs where they’re essentially enclosed life-boats equipped for extended duration life-support.

(9) A thin cap or seal (made historically from lead or tin but now usually of plastic), covering for the mouth of a corked (ie sealed with some sort of stopper) bottle.

(10) A concise report; brief outline.

(11) To furnish with or enclose in or as if in a capsule; to encapsulate; to capsulize.

(12) In bacteriology, a gelatinous layer of polysaccharide or protein surrounding the cell wall of some bacteria and thought to be responsible for the virulence in pathogens.  The outer layer of viscous polysaccharide or polypeptide slime of the capsules with which some bacteria cover their cell walls is thought to provide defense against phagocytes and prevent the bacteria from drying out.

(13) In the fashion industry (as a modifier), a sub-set of a collection containing the most important or representative items (a capsule-collection).

(14) In chemistry, a small clay saucer for roasting or melting samples of ores etc, known also as a scorifier (archaic); A small, shallow evaporating dish, usually of porcelain.

(15) In ballistics, a small cup or shell, often of metal, for a percussion cap, cartridge etc.

1645–1655: From the Middle English capsula (small case, natural or artificial), from the French capsula (a membranous sac) or directly from the Latin capsula (small box or chest), the construct being caps(a) (box; chest; case) + -ula (the diminutive suffix).  The medicinal sense is 1875, the origin of the shortened form being that in 1942 adopted by British army quartermasters in their inventory and supply lists (eg Cap, ASA, 5 Gr (ie a 5 grain capsule of aspirin)).  The use to describe the part of a spacecraft containing the crew is from 1954, thought influenced by the number of military personnel involved during the industry’s early years, the sense from the jargon of ballistics meaning "shell of a metallic cartridge" dating from 1864 (although the word in this context had earlier been used in science fiction (SciFi or SF)).  Capsule has been applied as an adjective since 1938.  The verb encapsulate (enclose in a capsule) is from 1842 and was in figurative use by 1939 whereas the noun encapsulation didn’t appear until 1859 but was a figurative form as early as 1934.  Capsule is a noun & verb, capsuler, capsulization & encapsulation are nouns, encapsule, capsulizing, encapsulated & encapsulating are verbs, capsulated and capsuliferous & capsuligenous are adjectives; the noun plural is capsules.  In medicine, the adjective capsuloligamentous is used in anatomical science to mean "relating to a capsule and a ligament".

Science (especially zoology, botany, medicine & anatomy) has found many uses for capsule (because in nature capsule-like formations occur with such frequency) as a descriptor including the nouns capsulotomy (incision into a capsule, especially into the lens of the eye when removing cataracts), (the generation and development of a capsule), capsulorhexis (the removal of the lens capsule during cataract surgery) & capsulectomy (the removal of a capsule, especially one that surrounds an implant) and the adjective capsuloligamentous (of or relating to a capsule and a ligament).  Science also applied modifiers as required, thus forms such as intercapsule, pseudocapsule, microcapsule, macrosapsule & subsapsule.  Industry found a use: the noun capsuler describing "a machine for applying the capsule to the cork of a wine bottle" and the first "space capsules" (the part of spaceships with the life-support systems able to sustain life and thus used as the crew compartment) appeared in SF long before any were built or launched.  The derived forms most frequently used are encapsulate and its variations encapsulation and encapulated.  

The Capsule in Asymmetric Engineering

Focke-Wulf Fw 189 Eurl (Owl).

Unusual but far from unique in its structural asymmetry, and offset crew-capsule, the Blohm & Voss BV 141 was tactical reconnaissance aircraft built in small numbers and used in a desultory manner by the Luftwaffe during WWII.  A specification issued in 1937 by the Reichsluftfahrtministerium (RLM; the German Air Ministry) had called for a single-engine reconnaissance aircraft, optimized for visual observation and, in response, Focke-Wulf responded with their Fw 189 Eurl (Owl) which, because of the twin-engined, twin-boomed layout encountered some resistance from the RLM bureaucrats but it found much favor with the Luftwaffe and, over the course of the war, some nine-hundred entered service and it was used almost exclusively as the German's standard battlefield reconnaissance aircraft.  In fact, so successful did it prove in this role that the other configurations it was designed to accommodate, that of liaison and close-support ground-attack, were never pursued.  Although its performance was modest, it was a fine airframe with superb flying qualities and an ability to absorb punishment which, on the Russian front where it was extensively deployed, became famous and captured exampled provide Russian aeronautical engineers with ides which would for years influence their designs.

Arado Ar 198.

The RLM had also invited Arado to tender but their Ar 198, although featuring an unusual under-slung and elongated cupola which afforded for the observer a uniquely panoramic view, proved unsatisfactory in test-flights and development ceased.  Blohm and Voss hadn't been included in the RLM's invitation but anyway chose to offer a design which was radically different even by the standards of the innovative Fw 189.  The asymmetric BV 141 design was intriguing with the crew housed in an extensively glazed capsule, offset to starboard of the centre-line with a boom, offset to the left, housing the single-engine in front and tail to the rear.  Prototypes were built as early as 1938 and the Luftwaffe conducted were operational trials over both the UK and USSR between 1939-1941 but, despite being satisfactory in most respects, the Bv 141 was hampered by poor performance, a consequence of using an under-powered engined.  A re-design of the structure to accommodate more powerful units was begun but delays in development and the urgent need for the up-rated engines for machines already in production doomed the project and the Bv 141 was in 1943 abandoned.

Blohm & Voss BV 141 prototype.

Blohm & Voss BV 141.

Despite the ungainly appearance, the test-pilots reported the Fw 141 was a nicely balanced airframe, the seemingly strange weight distribution well compensated by (1) component placement, (2) the specific lift characteristics of the wing design and (3) the choice of rotational direction of both crankshaft and propeller, the torque generated used as a counter-balance.  Nor, despite the expectation of some, were there difficulties in handling whatever behavior was induced by the thrust versus drag asymmetry and pilots all indicated some intuitive trimming was all that was needed to compensate for any induced yaw.  The asymmetry extended even to the tail-plane, the starboard elevator and horizontal stabilizer removed (to afford the tail-gunner a wider field of fire) after the first three prototypes were built; surprisingly, this was said barely to affect the flying characteristics.  Focke-Wolf pursued the concept, a number of design-studies (including a piston & turbojet-engine hybrid) initiated but none progressed beyond the drawing-board.

Lindsay Lohan's promotion of Los Angeles-based Civil Clothing's capsule collection, November 2014.  The pieces were an ensemble in black & white, named "My Addiction".

The capsule on the circuits

Bisiluro Damolnar, Le Mans, 1955.

The concept of the asymmetric capsule made little impact in aviation but it certain made an impression on “Smokey” Yunick (Henry Yunick 1923–2001).  Smokey Yunick was American mechanic and self-taught designer who was for years one of the most innovative and imaginative builders in motorsport.  A dominant force in the early years of NASCAR where his team won two championships and dozens of races, he continued his involvement there and in other arenas for over two decades including the Indianapolis 500, his car winning the 1960 event.  During WWII, Yunick had piloted a Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress for the 97th Bombardment Group (Heavy), flying some fifty missions out of Amendola Field, Italy and on one run, he’d had seen in the skies over Germany a Blohm & Voss BV 141 and was intrigued by the outrigger capsule in which sat the crew, immediately trying to imagine how such a layout would affect the flying characteristics.  The image of the strange aircraft stayed with him and a decade later he noted the Bisiluro Damolnar which ran at Le Mans in 1955, the year of the horrific accident in which eighty-four died.  He must have been encouraged by the impressive pace of the Bisiluro Damolnar rather than its high-speed stability (it was blown (literally) of the track by a passing Jaguar D-Type) and to contest the 1964 Indianapolis 500, he created a capsule-car.

Hurst Floor Shifter Special, Indianapolis, 1964.

Like many of the machines Yunick built, the capsule-car was designed with the rule-book in one hand and a bucket of the sponsor’s money in the other, Hurst Corporation in 1964 paying US$40,000 (equal to circa US$335,000 in 2021) for the naming rights.  Taking advantage of the USAC’s (the Indianapolis 500’s sanctioning body) rules which permitted the cars to carry as much as 75 gallons (284 litres) of fuel, some did, the placement of the tanks being an important factor in the carefully calculated weight-distribution.  The drawback of a heavy fuel load was greater weight which, early on, decreased speed and increased tyre wear but did offer the lure of less time spent re-fueling so what Yunick did was take a novel approach to the "fuel as ballast" principle which balanced the mass by placing the driver and fuel towards the front and the engine to the rear, the desired leftward bias (the Indianapolis 500 being run anti-clockwise) achieved by specific placement.  His great innovation was that using a separate, left-side capsule for the driver, he created three different weight masses (front, rear and left-centre) which, in theory, would both improve aerodynamic efficiency and optimize weight distribution.

Hurst Floor Shifter Special, Indianapolis, 1964.

Despite the appearance, the capsule-car was more conventional than intended.  The initial plan had been to use a turbine engine (as Lotus later would, almost successfully) and a single throttle/brake control but, for various reasons, it ended up using the ubiquitous Offenhauser power-plant and a conventional, two-pedal setup.  Upon arrival at the track, it made quite an impression and many understood the theories which had inspired the design.  Expectations were high.  Unfortunately, the theories didn’t work in practice and the car struggled to reach competitive speeds, an attempt at a qualifying lap delayed until the last available day.  Going into turn one at speed, a problem with the troublesome brakes caused a loss of control and the car hit the wall, the damage severe enough to preclude any chance of repairs being made in time for the race.

Hurst Floor Shifter Special, Indianapolis, 1964.

Yunick wasn’t discouraged and remained confident a year was enough time to develop the concept and solve the problem the shakedown on the circuit had revealed but the capsule-car would never race again, rule changes imposed after a horrific crash which happened early in 1964 race meaning it would have been impossible for it to conform yet remain competitive.  Effectively rendered illegal, the capsule-car was handed to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Museum, where it's sometimes displayed.

Japanese Hotels: The Pod and the Capsule

The term "capsule hotel" is a calque of the Japanese カプセルホテル (kapuseru hoteru).  The capsule hotel is a hotel with very small accommodation units which certainly can’t be called “rooms” in any conventiona sense of the word although the property management software (PMS) the operators use to manage the places is essentially the same (though simplified because there’s no need to handle things such as mini-bars, rollaway beds et al).  Although not exclusive to Japan, it’s Japanese cities with which the concept is most associated, the first opened in Osaka in 1979 and they were an obvious place for the idea to emerge because of the high cost of real estate.  Although the market has softened since the “property bubble” which in 1989 peaked with Tokyo commercial space alone reputedly (at least as extrapolated by the theorists) worth more than the continental United States, the cost per m² remains high by international standards.  Because one typical hotel room can absorb as many m³ as a dozen or more capsules, the optimized space efficiency made the economic model compelling, even as a niche market.

Anna in Capsule 620.

Many use the terms “pod hotel” (pod used here in the individual and not the collective sense) & “capsule hotel” interchangeably to describe accommodation units which compact sleeping spaces with minimal additional facilities but in Japan the industry does note there are nuances of difference between the two.  Both are similar in that structurally the design is one of an array of small, pod-like sleeping units stacked side by side and/or atop each other in a communal space.  In a capsule hotel, the amenities are limited usually to a bed, small television and usually some (limited) provision of personal storage space with bathroom facilities shared and located in the communal area.  The target market traditionally has been budget travellers (the business as well as the leisure market) but there was for a while the phenomenon of those booking a night or two just to post the images as something exotic on Instagram and other platforms.  Interestingly, "female only" capsule hotels are a thing which must be indicative of something. 

Entrance to the world of your capsule, 9h nine hours Suidobashi, Tokyo.

The “Pod Hotel” came later and tended to be (slightly) larger, some 10-20% more expensive and positioned deliberately as “upmarket”, obviously a relative term and best thought of as vaguely analogous with the “premium economy” seats offered by airlines.  Compared with a capsule, a pod might have adjustable lighting, a built-in entertainment system supporting BYD (bring your own device) and somewhat more opulent bedding.  Demand clearly existed and a few pod hotels emerged with even a private bathroom and additional storage space although the sleeping area tended to remain the same.  It’s part of Japanese urban folklore that these more self-contained pods are often used by the famous “salarymen” who find them an attractive alternative to finding their way home after an evening of karaoke, strong drink, the attention of hostesses and such.  That aspect of the salaryman lifestyle predated the 1980s and capsules and pods were just a more economic way of doing things.  Not however predicted in a country which had since the mid-1950s become accustomed to prosperity, full-employment and growth were the recessions and consequent increase in unemployment which became part of the economy after the bubble burst in 1990.  In this environment, the capsules and especially the pods became low-cost alternative accommodation for the under-employed & unemployed and while estimates vary according to the city and district, it may be that at times as many as 20% of the units were rented on a weekly or monthly basis by those for whom the cost of a house or apartment had become prohibitive.

Limn

Limn (pronounced lim)

(1) To represent in drawing or painting; to delineate (rare except as literary device and also used figuratively).

(2) To portray in words; to describe (rare except as literary device).

(3) To illuminate (in the archaic sense) manuscripts; to decorate with gold or some other bright colour (obsolete except in historic references)

1400–1450: From the late Middle English limnen, limyne, lymm, lymn & lymne (to illuminate (a manuscript)), a variant of the Middle English luminen (to illuminate (a manuscript)), a short-form variant of enluminen or enlumine (to shed light upon, illuminate; to enlighten; to make bright or clear; to give colour to; to illuminate (a manuscript); to depict, describe; to adorn or embellish with figures of speech or poetry; to make famous, glorious, or illustrious), from the Old & Middle French enluminer (to illumine (a manuscript)), from the Latin illūminō (to brighten, light up; to adorn; to make conspicuous), the construct being il- (a variant of in- (the prefix used in the sense of “in, inside”)) + lūminō (to brighten, illuminate; to reveal), the construct being from lūmen (genitive luminis) (radiant energy; light; (and used poetically) brightness”) (from the primitive Indo-European lewk- (bright; to shine; to see)) + -ō (the suffix forming regular first-conjugation verbs).  The more familiar derived form in Latin was inlūmināre (to embellish; to brighten (literally “light up”), related obviously to related to lucere (to shine), the idea identifiable in the Modern English lustre.

Limn’s figurative sense of “portray, depict” which persists in literary and poetic use (some journalists also like the archaic flourish) was in use by the 1590s.  The derived forms include the verbs dislimn, dislimns, dislimning & dislimned (to remove the outlines of; to efface); enlimn enlimns, enlimning & enlimned) (to adorn (a book, manuscript etc) by illuminating or ornamenting with coloured and decorated letters and figures, the adjective unlimned (not limned or depicted), outlimn (to sketch out or delineate) and the noun limner (plural limners) (one who limns or portrays.  The use of limning as a noun described a depiction (the definitional boundaries of which shifted over the centuries).  The spelling limne was (obsolete) by the seventeenth century.  Limn & limned are verbs, limner is a noun & limming is a noun & verb; the two nouns plural are limners & limnings.

Two limnings in miniature from Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry. 

In the popular imagination, the illuminate manuscript is one where the art has a quality of vibrancy, the colors vivid, typified by Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry (The Very Rich Hours of the Duke of Berry) (1413-1416) by Dutch miniature painters, the brothers Herman, Paul, and Jean de Limbourg from the city of Nijmegen.  The volume is now in the collections of the Musée Condé in the Château de Chantilly, Chantilly, France.  January (left) and September (right) were two of a number of illustrations in a seasonal theme and as well as of interest to historians of art, the depictions have been used as documentary evidence of aspects of lifestyle as varied as the place of animals in society to the colors of garments.  In the tradition of the International Gothic of fourteenth & fifteenth centuries (the successor epoch to the High Gothic) the book is noted for its detail, refinement and use of gold leaf though quite how reliable as a historic record such documents are has been questioned; while not exactly the Instagram of the age, they were certainly idealized and produced for whomever it was prepared to pay for the commission.

Limnophile Lindsay Lohan lingers to look with longing at a lake's languid waters, Georgia Rule (2007).

Limno- is a word-forming element used in science in the sense of “of or pertaining to lakes and fresh water; the study of bodies of fresh water” and dates from 1892 when the name for the discipline appeared in scientific papers, the first to use the term apparently the Swiss geologist François-Alphonse Forel (1841-1912).  The related forms are limnological, limnetic, limnophile (there seem not to be any limnophobes), limnologist and the marvellous adjective limnophilous (loving or having an affinity towards lakes).  The noun limnology does not describe the study of illuminated manuscripts and despite the spelling is unrelated, the construct being limno-, from the Ancient Greek λίμνη (límnē) (pool of standing water, tidal pool, pond, marsh, lake," a word of uncertain origin but perhaps connected to the Latin limus (mud), from the primitive Indo-European root slei & lei- (slime), via the notion of “moistness, standing water), from or closely related to λιμήν (limḗn) (harbor) & λειμών (leimṓn) (moist place, meadow) +‎ -(o)logy.  The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism et al).

Two folio pages from Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry. 

Intriguingly different from most in the genre is the Black Hours Manuscript (known also as the Morgan Black Hours), created between 1460-1480 (some sources claim the final artwork was completed by 1475) in Bruges in what is now the Flemish Region of Belgium.  Created probably for a patron or member of the Burgundian Court, it’s now held in Manhattan’s Morgan Library and Museum.  What is most striking about the Black Hours is the extensive use of dark blueish hues as the predominant background shading.  Highly unusual in any artistic form in this era, the color occurs because of the extremely corrosive process used to dye the vellum with iron gall ink.  The black pages are a rarity (and at the time an expensive one) and the miniatures all use tones, the palette throughout very limited and restricted to blue, old rose, green, gray and white, with a few touches of gold, a radical departure from the usual splashes of yellow and scarlet, the margins decorated with blue borders, gold acanthus leaves and the expected drolleries.  So distinctive are the stylistic elements that historians of art continue to debate the influences on the creators and traces of its motifs appear often in modern graphic art.