Slant

Slant (pronounced slant or slahnt)

(1) A surface, structure, line etc at a slope or in an oblique direction.

(2) In (US) football, an offensive play in which the ball-carrier runs toward the line of scrimmage at an angle (known also as the “slant-in”, a pass pattern in which a receiver cuts diagonally across the middle of the field).

(3) In prosody, as “slant rhyme”, a synonym for the “half rhyme”, “near rhyme” & “quasi-rhyme” (a form of imperfect rhyme in which the final (coda) consonants of stressed syllables (and, in modern English poetry, any following syllables to the end of the words) are identical in sound, but the vowels of the stressed syllables are not.

(4) In typography, a synonym of slash ( / ⟩, particularly in its use to set off pronunciations from other text (not used in IT where the distinctions are between the forward-slash (/) and the back-slash (\) which nerds call respectively the slash and the slosh.

(5) In biology, a sloping surface in a culture medium.

(6) In hydro-carbon extraction, as “slant drilling”, a technique in which the drilling is undertaken at an oblique angle rather than the traditional vertical orientation.

(7) In extractive mining, as type of run in which a heading is driven diagonally between the dip and strike of a coal seam.

(8) In informal use, a glance or look.

(9) To veer or angle away from a given level or line, especially from a horizontal; slope (in to incline, to lean).

(10) Figuratively, to have or be influenced by a subjective point of view, bias, personal feeling or inclination etc (often as “slant towards”, “slanted view” etc); a mental leaning, bias, or distortion (“feminist slant”, “MAGA slant”, “liberal slant”, “business slant” et al).

(11) To cause to slope.

(12) Figuratively, to distort information by rendering it unfaithfully or incompletely, especially in order to reflect a particular viewpoint (more generously sometimes described as “spin” or “massaged”).  The concept is known also as “angle journalism” (the particular mood or vein in which something is written, edited, or published).  In Scots English, the meaning “to lie or exaggerate” captures the flavor.  When used to describe the composing, editing, or publishing of something to attract the interest of a specific sub-group (a “slanted” story), “slanted towards” is necessarily pejorative if used only to suggest something optimized to appeal to a certain market segment or demographic (ie it’s more like “aimed at” or “intended for”).

(13) In slang, as “slant eye” (a racial slur now listed as disparaging & offensive), a reference to people from the Far East (applied historically mostly to the Chinese & Japanese), based on the shape of the eyes.  The variants included “slit eye”, “slitty-eyed” & “slopehead”, all equally offensive and now proscribed.

(14) In painting (art) a pan with a sloped bottom used for holding paintbrushes; a depression on a palette with a sloping bottom for holding and mixing watercolors; a palette or similar container with slants or sloping depressions.

(15) In US regional slang, a sarcastic remark; shade, an indirect mocking insult (archaic).

(16) In US slang, an opportunity, particularly to go somewhere (now rare).

(17) In historic Australian colonial slang, a crime committed for the purpose of being apprehended and transported to a major settlement.

Circa 1480s: From the Middle English –slonte or -slonte, both aphetic (in phonetics, linguistics & prosody, “of, relating to, or formed by aphesis” (the loss of the initial unstressed vowel of a word)) variants of aslant, thought to be of Scandinavian origin.  The other influence was probably the earlier dialectical slent, from the Old Norse or another North Germanic source and cognate with the Old Norse slent, the Swedish slinta (to slip) and the Norwegian slenta (to fall on the side), from the Proto-Germanic slintaną (which, in turn, was probably in some way linked with aslant.  Slant & slanting are nouns, verbs & adjectives, slanted is a verb & adjective, slantish is an adjective, slantwise is an adjective & adverb and slantingly & slantly are adverbs; the noun plural is slants.  The pleasing adjective slantendicular is listed by some as non-standard and presumably is proscribed in geometry and mathematics because it's an oxymoron; it’s a portmanteau word, the construct being slant + (perp)endicular.  It may be useful however in commerce or engineering where it might be used to describe something like a tool with a shaft which at some point assumes an oblique or skewed angle.   So it’s there to be used and slantindicular should be applied to stuff which is neither wholly nor fully slanted and in architecture, such structures are numerous.  In commerce, it could be used as a noun.

The noun slant by the 1650s was used to mean “an oblique direction or plane” and began in geography & civil engineering (of landforms, notably ski-slopes), developed from the verb or its adjective.  The now familiar (in the Fox News sense) meaning “way of regarding something, a mental bias” dates from 1905 while the derogatory slang sense of “a person of Asian appearance” came into use some time in the 1940s, a direct descendent from the earlier "slant-eyes", documented since 1929.  The verb slant is documented since the 1520s in the sense of “obliquely to strike (against something)”, an alteration the late thirteenth century slenten (slip sideways), the origin of which is murky but etymologists have concluded it came (via a Scandinavian source (noting the Swedish slinta (to slip)) and the Norwegian slenta (to fall on one side), from the Proto-Germanic slintanan.  The intransitive sense of “to slope, to lie obliquely” was in use by the 1690s, while the transitive sense of “to give a sloping direction to” had emerged by the early nineteenth century.  As early as the late fifteenth century forms were in use as an adverb, the adjectival use attested from the 1610s.  The technical use in literary theory as “poetic slant rhyme” was first used in the mid 1920s (assonance or consonance) although such lines had appeared for centuries, used sometimes deliberately as a device, sometimes not.  In the following stanza by English poet Peter Redgrove (The Archaeologist, published in Dr Faust's Sea-Spiral Spirit (1972)), the second and third lines contain a form of slant rhyme while the first and fourth have pure rhymes:

So I take one of those thin plates
And fit it to a knuckled other,
Carefully, for it trembles on the edge of powder,
Restore the jaw and find the fangs their mates.

You are watching Fox.

While it’s unlikely volumes of the poetry of Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) sit upon the bookshelves of those members of the Fox News audience who have bookshelves, they likely would concur with her words: “Tell the truth but tell it slant.”  “Slanted reporting” has become something which in recent years has attracted much attention (and much hand-wringing by the usual suspects) as an increasingly polarization of positions has been alleged to be a feature of political discourse in the West.  There is little doubt the effect (as reported) is obvious but there’s some debate about both the mechanics and the implications of the phenomenon.  As long ago as 2018, a study found that although the tenor and volume of things on X (formerly known as Twitter) was found to be increasingly toxic and surging, the number of active users engaged in these political polemics was found to be tiny and their effect was distorted by (1) the huge number of tweets they tended to post, (2) the propensity of their fellow-travelers to re-tweet and (3) the use of bots which were more prolific still.  If anything, recent voting patterns suggest it would seem the views of the general population appear to be trending away from the extremes towards the more centralist positions offered by independents or small-parties, something most obvious in Australia where compulsory voting exists.  Outfits like Fox News offer a slanted take on just about everything (and promote country & western music which truly is inexcusable) but this is something which has been identifiable in the news media as long as it’s existed and their blatant bias is hardly subversive or threatening, simply because it is so blatant.  What was most interesting in what emerged from the recent defamation suit filed by Dominion Voting Systems against Fox News suggested the network’s stance on things was motivated more by the financial imperative than ideological purity.  Intriguingly, what some analysts concluded was that if the universe shifted and the Fox News audience transformed into a bunch of seed-eating hippies, there would follow Fox’s editorial position, the slant being towards the advertising revenue rather than a particular world view.  Of course, there are some slants which are unalterable and dictated by ideological purity but with commercial media, it’s likely sometimes cause is confused with effect.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa (left) and Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap (1998) in front of London’s perpendicular Big Ben (1859) (right).  The architect’s original name for the latter was a typically succinct “Clock Tower”, chosen because it housed the “Great Bell of the Great Clock of Westminster” but it was in 2012 renamed “Elizabeth Tower”, marking the Diamond Jubilee of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022), something little noted by Londoners or those beyond who continue to prefer the nickname “Big Ben” although strictly speaking that’s a reference only to the “Great Bell” a 13.5 ton (13.7 tonne) casting in bell metal (a bronze which is an alloy of about 77% copper & 23% tin).  The origin of the nickname is contested but there are no romantic tales, all the possible inspirations being worthy white men as was the Victorian way.

Although in Italy alone there are seven leaning towers (three of which stand (ie lean) in Venice), it’s the torre di Pisa (Tower of Pisa) which is by far the best-known and a frequent Instagram prop.  Built between 1173-1372, the structure in the Piazza del Duomo (Pisa’s Cathedral Square) is the campanile (the freestanding bell tower) of the adjacent Pisa Cathedral and the famous lean of some 4^o (actually somewhat less than its greatest extent after more than a century of compensating engineering works) was apparent even during construction, the cause the softness of the sub-surface.  That geological feature has however contributed to the tower’s survival, the “rubber-like” sponginess below acting to absorb movement and despite a number of severe earthquakes in the region over the centuries, the tower remains.  It is of course known as the leaning tower than a sloping, oblique or slanted tower, probably because of the conventions of use which evolved in English.

The words “sloping”, “oblique”, “slanted”, & “leaning” all describe something not vertical or horizontal there tend to be nuances which dictate the choice of which to use.  Sloping generally is used of something which inclines or declines at a gentle or continuous angle, the implication being of a gradual or smooth transition from elevation to another, such as the way a hillside rises gradually rises to its summit.  Oblique is mostly a matter of specific angles and is thus common is mathematics, geometry and engineering.  Again, it’s a reference to something neither parallel nor perpendicular to a baseline but it tends to be restricted to something which can be defined with an exact measurement; in geometric or technical use, an oblique line or angle is one neither 90^o nor perfectly horizontal.  Slanted describes something positioned at a diagonal, often used to imply a more noticeable or sharp angle but also is widely used figuratively, metaphorically and in idiomatic phrases.  Leaning refers to something tilted or positioned at an angle due to external pressure, the object in an unstable position and in need of support.  The implication carried is that something which “slants” is designed thus to do while something which “leans” does so because of some design flaw or unexpected external force being applied so it’s the leaning and not the sloping tower of Pisa, even though the structure has assumed quite a slope.

Slanting Engines

On a slant: Diagram of the mounting of the M194 straight-six engine in the Le Mans winning Mercedes-Benz 300 SL (W194) canted at a 40^o slant (left); the Mercedes-Benz M196 straight-eight engine schematic (centre) and installed in a 1954 W196R "Streamliner" at a 53^o slant (right).  The two large donut-like objects at the front are the inboard, finned brake drums; at the time, the engineers maintained disk brakes were "not yet ready for use". 

There are “slant” engines and they exist in three configurations.  The first is simply a conventional in-line engine (straight-six, straight-eight etc) which, when installed in a vehicle, is fitted with the block canted to the left or right, the objective being a lower hood line which means a better aerodynamic outcome.  A classic example was the Mercedes-Benz W196R Formula One racing car (1954-1955) in which the straight-eight was canted to the right at a 53^o angle, the technique carried over when the same structure was used to produce the W196S (1955) used to contest the World Sports Car Championship.  Rather opportunistically, the W196S was dubbed the 300 SLR (one of which in 2022 became the world's most expensive used car, selling at a private auction for US$142 million) as a form of cross promotion with the 300 SL (W198, 1954-1956) Gullwing then in production, even though the two types shared little more than nuts, bolts and a resemblance.  The 300 SL did however also have its straight-six engine sitting at a slant, this time canted at a 50^o angle and although the factory never published an estimate of the reduction in drag, it’s long been presumed to be “at least several percent”.  Another advantage of the configuration was it made possible the use of “long-tube” runners for the induction system, taking advantage of the properties of fluid dynamics to permit them to be tuned either for mid-range torque or top-end power.  The concept used math which had been worked out in the nineteenth century and had often been used in competition but it wasn’t until 1959 when Chrysler in the US released their picturesque induction castings that the system, imaginatively named the “Sonoramic”, reached a wider audience.

Chrysler Slant Six (170 cid, 1963) schematic.

The “true” slant engines were those with a slanted block atop an otherwise conventional arrangement of components, the best known of which was Chrysler’s long-serving “Slant Six”, produced in displacements of 170 cubic inch (2.8 litre, 1959-1969), 198 cubic inch (3.2 litre, 1970-1974) and 225 cubic inch (3.7 litre, 1960-2000).  The block of the Slant Six was canted to the right at a 30^o and like Mercedes-Benz, Chrysler took advantage of the space created to the left to produce some wide induction runners, the most extravagant those used by the special Hyper Pack option package which used a four barrel carburetor, enabling the engine to produce power which made it competitive with many V8 powered machines.  Although the name “Slant Six” became famous, it was only in the mid-sixties it caught on, Plymouth originally calling the thing a 30-D (a reference to the a 30^o slant), hardly very catchy and something to which only engineers would relate and Slant Six was soon preferred although the aficionados really like “tower of power” and the engine even today still has a devoted following.

Chrysler Slant Six with Hyper Pak in 1962 Plymouth Valiant V-200.

Chrysler didn’t restrict the Sonoramics to the big-block V8s, using it also on the short-lived (1960-1962) Hyper Pak performance option for the both 170 cubic inch (2.8 litre, 1959-1969) and 225 cubic inch (3.7 litre, 1987-2000) versions of the Slant Six, the engineers taking advantage of the space afforded by the canted block to permit the curvaceous intake runners nearly to fill the engine bay.  The Hyper Pak wasn't seen in showrooms but was available as an over-the-counter kit (literally a cardboard box containing all necessary parts) from Dodge & Plymouth spare parts departments and its life was limited because it became a victim of its own success.  Although less suitable for street use because it turned the mild-mannered straight-six into something at its best at full throttle, in the race events for which it was eligible it proved unbeatable, dominating the competition for two years, compelling the sanctioning body cancel the series.

Manifold porn: The Slant Six's angle meant there was much space available to the left and a range of intake manifolds followed, some of which remain available to this day.  Using variations of the sonoramic tuning, manifolds were produced for single, two & four barrel carburetors and between 1965-1968, Chrysler's Argentine operation produced the Slant Six in a version with twin single barrel carburetors.  The use of the properties of fluid dynamics to gain power or torque as desired quickly was adopted by the industry as an engineering orthodoxy.

Some myths seem to have become attached to the Hyper-Pak.  What seems to be true is the original kit, sold in 1960 for the 170 engines used in competition, was a genuine homologation exercise and as well as the intake manifold & Carter AFB four barrel carburetor, it included all the internal parts such as the high-compression pistons, the high-lift camshaft and the valve train components needed to support the consequently higher engine speeds.  Because the competition rules allowed modifications to the exhaust system, on the track the cars ran tubular steel headers which fed an open exhaust, terminating in the racers' preferred “dump pipe”.  After the requisite number of “complete” kits were sold, thus fulfilling the homologation demands, the kits were reconfigured and included only the “bolt-on” parts such as the induction system and a camshaft which, while more aggressive than the standard unit, wasn’t as radical as the one used on the track but could be used in conjunction with the standard valve train and Chrysler’s TorqueFlite automatic, thus expanding the Hyper-Pak’s appeal.

At the same time, the availability was extended to the larger 225 which between 1961-1963 was also available with an aluminum block, thus becoming one of the small number of engines configured with the combination of an aluminum block with a cast-iron head.  US manufacturers were at the time aware the trend was for cars to continue getting bigger so they were interested in ways to reduce weight.  However, despite saving some 70 lbs (32 KG), Chrysler’s aluminum block was, like General Motors’ (GM) 215 cubic inch (3.5 litre) V8, short-lived (though the V8 after being sold to Rover enjoyed a long, lucrative and prolific second life, not finally laid to rest until 2006) for not only were teething troubles encountered with the still novel method of construction, the accountants made clear using cast iron was always going to be cheaper so the industry just accepted weight gain and whenever required, increased displacement to compensate, an approach which persisted until the first oil shock of the early 1970s.

1970 Dodge Challenger (1970-1974) with 225 Slant Six.

Until 1973, both the Challenger & the corporation's companion pony car (the Plymouth Barracuda (1964-1974)) was available with the Slant Six (198 & 225) although the fitment rate was under 10%, unlike the early pony cars (Ford Mustang, Chevrolet Camaro and the early Barracudas) where the six-cylinder versions would at times be close to 40% of production.  Many of the surviving Slant Six Challengers & Barracudas have been "re-purposed" as clones of the more desirable versions with big-block V8s.

Although it was the longer lived 225 version which gained the Slant Six its stellar reputation for durability and the ease with which additional power could be extracted, there's always been a following for the short-stroke 170 because of its European-like willingness to rev, the characteristics of the over-square engine (unique among the slant-six's three displacements (170-198-225)) unusually lively for a US straight-six.  Despite some aspects of the specification being modest (there were only four main bearings although they were the beefy units used in the 426 cubic inch Street Hemi V8), for much of its life it used a tough forged steel crankshaft and high-speed tolerant solid valve lifters; it proved a was a famously robust engine and one remarkably tolerant of neglect.  Despite that, after the Hyper Pak affair, Chrysler in the US showed little interest in any performance potential, knowing the US preference for V8s, something which doomed also Pontiac's short-lived single overhead camshaft (SOHC) straight-six (1966-1969).  A version of the 225 with a two-barrel carburetor (rated at 160 horsepower, an increase of 15 over the standard unit) was offered in some non-North American markets where V8 sales were not dominant and it proved very popular in South Africa, Australia, New Zealand and Central & South America but only when tighter US emission regulations forced its adoption did a 225 with a two barrel carburetor appear in the home market though there it was installed to restore the power losses suffered after the emission control plumbing was added rather than seek gains.

Pontiac Trophy 4 cutaway.

Making a straight-eight or V8 by combining two in-line fours has been done a few times and many have been successful (although Triumph managed to create a truly horrid one for the otherwise lovely Stag).  Less common is making a four from an eight but that’s what Pontiac did when they conjured their 194.5 cubic inch (3.2 litre) four by using one bank of their 389 cubic inch (6.4 litre) Trophy V8 and it was (just about) literally cut in half, meaning the cylinders were canted to the right by 45^o (the V8 obviously in a conventional 90^o configuration.  To emphasize the family connection with the highly regarded Pontiac Trophy V8, the smaller offspring was called the Trophy 4 (although it was at time also dubbed the Indy 4 or Indianapolis 4 which even at the time sounded ambitious).  It did work and the economic advantages for the manufacturer (use of common components and the same assembly line) were compelling but the limitations inherent in a four-cylinder of such a large displacement were apparent in the rough-running and wear on critical parts and it was available only between 1961-1963, only in the compact Tempest.

Diagram showing balance shaft locations.

Large displacement four cylinder engines have been built.  Fiat in 1910 built two of their S76s to contest the world LSR (land speed record) and they were an hefty 28.4 litres (1730 cubic inch), the “Beast of Turin” using its then impressive 290 horsepower (216 kW) to attain a one-way speed of 132.27 mph (213 km/h) but, because it was not possible for the team to make the “return run” (ie in the opposite direction) within the stipulated one hour, the LSR remained with the Blitzen Benz which in 1909 had set a mark of 125.94 mph (202.65 km/h).  On land, never again would anyone build a four with the capacity to match the Beasts of Turin but units with displacements approaching 5.0 litres (305 cubic inch) were not uncommon during the inter-war years.  However, the technology of the internal combustion engine (ICE) greatly advanced during World War II (1939-1945) and one consequence of that was engine speeds rose and less displacement was required for a specific output, both factors which conspired to make the big fours unfashionable.  They did however make a comeback in the 1970s when the clever trick of “balance shafts” enabled the inherently chronic second order harmonic vibrations to be “dampened out” and Porsche between 1991-1995 produced a 3.0 litre (183 cubic inch) range which used the technique.  The balance shaft was invented early in the twentieth century by English engineer Frederick Lanchester (1868–1946) but it was Mitsubishi which in the 1970s patented their “Silent Shaft” system and although Porsche developed their own version, they worked out the Japanese design was superior so used that instead, paying Mitsubishi a small royalty (under US$10) for each one installed.  A balance shaft uses two counterweights (looking something like small hockey pucks with the shaft running through them), set some 1½ inches (40 mm) apart and turns at twice the engine-speed.  With one shaft mounted high on one side of the engine and the other low on the opposite side, the pair counter-rotates, balancing the large reciprocating mass.  

Tarmacadam

Tarmacadam (pronounced tahr-muh-kad-uhm)

(1) A paving material consisting of coarse crushed stone covered with a mixture of tar and bitumen.

(2) To cover or surface with tarmacadam.

1880–1885: The construct was tar + macadam (the spelling tar-macadam was also used).  Tar was from the Middle English ter, terr & tarr, from the Old English teoru, from the Proto-West Germanic teru, from the Proto-Germanic terwą (related to the Saterland Frisian Taar, the West Frisian tarre & tar, the Dutch teer & German Teer), from the primitive Indo-European derwo- (related to the Welsh derw (oaks), the Lithuanian dervà (pinewood, resin), the Russian де́рево (dérevo) (tree) and the Bulgarian дърво́ (dǎrvó) (tree)), from dóru (tree).  Tar described the black, oily, sticky, viscous substance, consisting mainly of hydrocarbons derived from organic materials such as wood, peat, or coal and it has been in use for millennia including as a water-proofing agent in the warships of Antiquity where it worked well but, being flammable, increased the vessels vulnerability to attack by “fire-ships”, an early “high-tech” weapon.  It’s used also as a descriptor of the solid residual by-product of tobacco smoke, seen often in anti-smoking campaigns, often demonstrating the effect on the lungs.  The old slang of a “tar” (also “jack tar”) being a sailor was unrelated to the hydrocarbon derivative and was a clipping of “tarpaulin”, allusion to the clothing seafarers wore.  In drug user slang, “black tar” was a form of heroin.  Tarmacadam is a noun & verb, and tarmacadaming & tarmacadamed are verbs; the noun plural is tarmcadams.

A Clan MacAdam family crest (there are many MacAdam crests and coats of arms).

The origin of the prefixes “Mc” & “Mac” in Scottish surnames lie in the Gaelic language historically was spoken in Scotland and both “son of”, thus indicating lineage, specifically to signify “son of” a particular person or ancestor (a la Robinson, Johnson et al).  Over centuries, the original “Mac” prefix was sometimes shortened to “Mc” but both forms are used interchangeable, carrying the same meaning.  The prefixes were an example of Celtic naming traditions (obviously most prevalent in Scotland & Ireland but also in other Gaelic-speaking regions) where surnames often were patronymic, based on the name of a father or ancestor.  Family lineage and heritage are important aspects in the naming traditions and conventions in many cultures and the “Mac” & Mc” use was the Gaelic practice.  The surname McAdam (also as MacAdam, Macadam & Mac Adaim (Irish)) belonged to a Scottish Gaelic clan which originated as a branch of Clan Gregor and although it has spread to many nations of the old British Empire (notably Ireland, the US, New Zealand, Australia and Canada), it is most prominent in the Galloway and Ayrshire regions of Scotland.

Clan MacAdam tartans: Reproduction (left), Modern (centre) and Ancient (right).  There are many Clan MacAdam tartans and the provenance of some may be dubious.  

The Gaelic “son of Adam” existed in those cases where the Biblical name had not been Gaelicized.  In this sense it was a companion of McGaw & MacGaw (from a Gaelicized form of the personal name) which in Ireland evolved as McCadden (in County Armagh) and McCaw (in County Cavan).  The Gaelic original seems to have been MacAdaim, introduced into both England and Scotland by twelfth century crusaders returning from the various (and usually unsuccessful) expeditions to “free” the Holy Land from Islamic control; Among the warrior crusaders, it was a fashion to give their children biblical names and because of the patronymic convention, they became elements in surnames from the thirteenth century onwards, MacAdam & McAdam proliferating.  So, given the etymology, it would be reasonable to assume tarmacadam might be pronounced tahr-mick-adam but even by the turn of the twentieth century it had become a stand-alone English word pronounced tahr-muh-kad-uhm.  

Tarmacadaming in progress (the worker on the right wielding a “tarmac rake”).  Like an iceberg, much of what a road is lies beneath. 

John McAdam (1756- 1836) was a Scottish civil engineer who specialized in road-building who in 1824 invented a process he called “macadamisation”.  His innovation was a system which enabled roads to be built with a smooth hard surface, using a defined mix of materials consisting particle of mixed sizes and predetermined structure; it offered the advantage of a surface which was more durable and less muddy than soil-based tracks.  Except when subjected to sustained periods of extreme weather, a characteristic of a “macadamed” surface was that vehicular transport tended to “compact and preserve” the integrity of the structure rather than wear and contribute to its deterioration.  However, as early as 1834 others began experimenting with tar (essentially as a sealant or sort of glue) as a way of strengthening a macadam road, increasing its durability, some of these enchantments involving both a top and underlying layer of tar and others adding to the surface alone.  Tar-augmented macadam was in use by the late nineteenth century but it never became widespread until the demands imposed by increasingly fast and heavy motorized vehicles.  John McAdam personally was never an advocate of the use of tar in road-building, his concern that there existed a tendency for such methods to “trap” water which would expand in sub-zero temperatures, causing the surface to break up; for this reason he preferred a structure which “breathed”, allowing the slight slope he engineered into his projects to permit natural drainage.

PavingExpert.com has a fine page explaining the terminology.

It was the Welsh civil engineer Edgar Hooley who in 1901 “invented” tarmacadam although “discovered” is a better description of what happened because the circumstances were serendipitous.  Mr Hooley was walking towards an ironworks when he observed an unusually smooth stretch of road and when he enquired what had caused the phenomenon, he was told a large barrel of tar had fallen onto the road and smashed, disgorging the contents which quickly spread, making a black, stick, mess.  Staff from the ironworks had been dispatched with a cart of slag (a waste-product from the blast furnaces with instructions to spread it across the road and Mr Hooley noted the impromptu resurfacing had solidified the road, giving it a marvelously smooth, consistent surface with no rutting and no dust.

Prototype William C Oastler steamroller, Cooke Locomotive factory, Paterson, New Jersey, 1899.

Within months, Mr Hooley had completed his design for a process he called “tarmac”.  This involved mechanically mixing tar and aggregate into a dispensing device which “laid-it-down” to be compacted with a steam-engine powered roller (the appropriately named “steamroller”).  What made the process possible was the basic tar being modified with the addition of pitch, cement & resin.  In 1902, Mr Hooley was granted a patent and the essence of his design remains in use today.  It produced good results but it was a more expensive method than the traditional approach but what radically reduced the cost was the emergence in the US of a large-scale petroleum industry which produced large quantities of bitumen as a by-product, something for which there was then little demand.  The sudden availability of vast quantities of bitumen meant coal tar could be replaced and Mr Hooley’s mechanized process then became a cheaper method of road building, the combination of the dispensing device and steamroller eliminating much of the labor-intensive activities inherent in the business of macadamisation; the most familiar modern version of the process in the “tar and chip” method which civil engineers refer to as BST (bituminous surface treatment).

Tarmacadam variations.

The classic tarmac surface is now rarely used although in a curious linguistic quirk, the word persists as a common term describing the apron outside airport passenger terminals (the “marshalling area” where aircraft are parked to allow passengers to embark & disembark (de-plane the current buzz phrase)) although these are now typically constructed with concrete.  In some markets “asphalt concrete” (the smooth, black surface sometimes called “road carpet”) but the word “tarmacadam” remains commonly used in road-building and other fields in civil engineering.  Technically, Tarmacadam should now correctly be referred to as “bituminous macadam” (“Bitmac” in professional slang) and it’s one of those processes which is appropriate for some jobs and not others, largely because while a relatively cheap method when used at large scale, for small areas it can be very expensive because the machinery is all designed to be deployed at scale.

On the tarmac: Lindsay Lohan in costume for Liz & Dick (2012), Van Nuys Airport, Los Angeles, June 2012.  Based on this image, the Van Nuys tarmac is of concrete construction.

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.

Comet

Comet (pronounced kom-it)

(1) In astronomy, a celestial body moving about the sun, usually in a highly eccentric orbit, most thought to consist of a solid frozen nucleus, part of which vaporizes on approaching the heat from Sun (or other star) to form a gaseous, luminous coma (the envelope of dust and gas, the most dramatic part of which is the long, luminous tail which streams away from the sun (under the influence of solar winds).

(2) In astronomy, a celestial phenomenon with the appearance of such a body.

(3) Any of several species of hummingbird found in the Andes.

(4) In slang, as “vomit comet”, a reduced-gravity aircraft which, by flying in a parabolic flight path, briefly emulates a close to weightless environment.  Used to train astronauts or conduct research, the slang derived from the nausea some experience.

(5) In figurative use (often applied retrospectively and with a modifier such as “blazing comet”), someone (or, less commonly, something) who appears suddenly in the public eye, makes a significant impact and then quickly fades from view, their fleeting moment of brilliance a brief but spectacular event.

1150–1200: From the Middle English comete, partly from the Old English comēta and partly from the Anglo-French & Old French comete (which in Modern French persists as comète), all from the Latin comētēs & comēta, from the Ancient Greek κομήτης (komḗtēs) (wearing long hair; ling-haired), the construct being komē-, a variant stem of komân (to let one's hair grow), from κόμη (kómē) (hair) + -tēs (the agent suffix).  The Greek was a shortened form of ἀστὴρ κομήτης (astēr komētēs (longhaired star)), a reference to a comet’s streaming tail.  The descendants in other languages include the Malay komet, the Urdu کومٹ (komeṭ) and the Welsh comed.  Comet, cometlessness, cometography, cometographer, cometology & cometarium are nouns, cometless, cometic, cometical, cometocentric, cometary, cometographical & cometlike (also as comet-like) are adjectives, cometesimal is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is comets.

Comets orbit the Sun along an elongated path and when not near the heat, the body consists solely of its nucleus, thought to be almost always a solid core of frozen water, frozen gases, and dust.  When near the sun, the nucleus heats, eventually to boil and thus release the gaseous and luminous coma (the envelope of dust and gas), the most dramatic part of which is the long, luminous tail which streams away from the sun (under the influence of solar winds).  The path of a comet can be in the shape of an ellipse or a hyperbola; if a hyperbolic path, it enters the solar system once and then leaves forever while if it follows an ellipse, it remains in orbit around the sun.  Astronomer divide comets into (1) “short period” (those with orbital periods of less than 200 years and coming from the Kuiper belt) and (2) “long-period” (those with an orbital period greater than 200 years and coming from the Oort cloud).

Before the development of modern techniques, comets were visible only when near the sun so their appearance was sudden and, until early astronomers were able to calculate the paths of those which re-appeared, unexpected.  Superstition stepped in where science didn’t exist and comets were in many cultures regarded as omens or harbingers of doom, famine, ruin, pestilence and the overthrow of kingdoms or empires.  It was the English astronomer, mathematician and physicist Edmond Halley (1656–1742; Astronomer Royal 1720-1742) who in 1682 published the calculations which proved many comets were periodic and thus their appearance could be predicted.  Halley's Comet, named in his honor, remains the only known short-period comet consistently visible from Earth with the naked eye and remains the world’s most famous; it last appeared in 1986 and will next visit our skies in 2061.

Comet wine: Non-vintage Alois Lageder Natsch4 Vigneti Delle Dolomiti.

Halley’s findings put an end to (most) of the superstition surrounding comets but commerce still took advantage of their presence.  A comet with a famously vivid tail appeared in 1811 and in that year, Europe enjoyed a remarkably pleasant autumn (fall) which was most conducive to agriculture and became associated with the abundant and superior yield of the continental vineyards.  For that reason, the vintage was called the “comet wine” and the term became a feature in marketing the product which emerged from any year in which notable comets were seen, a superior quality alleged (and thus a premium price).  Wine buffs say any relationship between the quality of a vintage and the travel of celestial bodies is entirely coincidental.

Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath (2021) by Dr Heather Clark (b 1974).

One of things about the feminist cult which is now the construct of Sylvia Path (1932-1963) is that her mistreatment at the hands of her husband Ted Hughes (1930–1998; Poet Laureate 1984-2008) tends to obscure her work which many quite familiar with the story of her brief life will barely have read and that’s perhaps predictable, certainly for those for whom the lure of tales of tragic woman and brutish men is a siren.  As human tragedies go, her story is compelling: A precocious talent, the death of the father to whom she was devoted when only eight, the suicide attempt while a student and the burning ambition to write and be published.  Almost as soon as she met Ted Hughes she knew he was “my black marauder” and their affair was one of intense physicality as well as a devotion to their art, something which might have endured during their marriage (which produced two children) had Hughes not proved so unfaithful and neglectful.  In 1963, as an abandoned solo mother in a freezing flat during what entered history as London’s coldest winter of the century, she took her own life while her two babies slept nearby, becoming a symbol onto which people would map whatever most suited their purposes: the troubled genius, the visionary writer, a feminist pioneer and, overwhelmingly, a martyr, a victim of a man.  To his dying day, feminists would stalk literary events just to tell Hughes he had “Sylvia’s blood on his hands”.

So the story is well known and in the years since her death there have been a number of biographies, critical studies, collections of letters, academic conferences; given that, it’s seemed by the 2020s unlikely there was much more to say about one whose adult life spanned not even two decades.  For that reason the 1000-odd densely printed pages of Dr Heather Clark’s Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath was a revelation because, as the author pointed out, her life “has been subsumed by her afterlife” and what was needed was a volume which focused on what she wrote and why that output means she should be set free from the “cultural baggage of the past 50 years” and shown as “one of the most important American writers of the twentieth century.”

Sylvia Plath in Paris, 1956.

Red Comet is thus far this century’s outstanding biography and a feminist perspective is not required to recognize that when reading her last poems (written in obvious rage but sustaining a controlled tension few have matched) that she was a profoundly disturbed woman.  Most clinicians who have commented seem now to agree her depression of long-standing had descended to something psychotic by the time of her suicide, a progression she seems to have acknowledged, writing to one correspondent that she was composing poetry “on the edge of madness”.  This is though a biography written by a professional literary critic so it does not construct Plath as tale of tragedy and victimhood as one might if telling the story of some troubled celebrity.  Instead, the life is allowed to unfold in a way which shows how it underpins her development as a writer, the events and other glimpses of the person interpolated into the progress of a text through drafts and revisions, each word polished as the poet progresses to what gets sent to the publisher.  Red Comet is not a book for those interested in how much blame Ted Hughes should bear for his wife killing herself and in that matter it’s unlikely to change many opinions but as a study of the art of Sylvia Plath, it’s outstanding.  Unlike many figurative uses of "comet", Plath continues to blaze her trail. 

Pre-production de Havilland Comet (DH 106) with the original, square windows, England, 1949 (left) and Comet 4 (Registration G-APDN) in BOAC (British Overseas Airways Corporation (1939-1974 which in 1974 was merged with BEA (British European Airways) and others to later become BA (British Airways)) livery, Tokyo (Haneda International (HND / RJTT)), Japan October 1960.

The term hoodoo is often attached to objects thought jinxed.  When the de Havilland Comet (DH 106; the first commercial jet airliner), within a year of its first flight in 1949, began to suffer a number of catastrophic in-flight accidents, newspapers wrote of the “Comet hoodoo”, something encouraged because, in the pre “black-box” era, analysis of aviation incidents was a less exact science than now and for some time the crashes appeared inexplicable.  It was only when extensive testing revealed the reason for the structural failures could be traced to stresses in the airframe induced aspects of the design that the hoodoo was understood to be the operation of physics.  Other manufacturers noted the findings and changed their designs, Boeing's engineers acknowledging the debt they owed to de Havilland because it was the investigation of the Comet's early problems which produced the solutions which helped the Boeing 707 (1957) and its many successors to be the successful workhorses they became.  As a footnote, by the time the Comet 4 was released in 1958 the problems had been solved but commercially, the project was doomed and reputational damage done.  Between 1949-1964, barely more than 100 were sold although many did provide reliable service until 1981 and the airframe proved adaptable, dozens of military variants produced, the most notable being the Hawker Siddeley Nimrod, a maritime patrol version which was in service with the Royal Air Force (RAF) until 2011.

It’s because of the lessons learned from the Comet hoodoo that the apertures of airliner windows have rounded edges, the traditional four-cornered openings creating four weak spots prone to failure under stress.  In the early 1950s there was much optimism about the Comet and had it been successful, it could have given the UK’s commercial aviation industry a lead in a sector which rapidly would expand in the post war years.  One who didn’t express much faith in his country’s capacity to succeed in the field was the politician Duff Cooper (1890–1954) who, shortly before taking up his appointment as the UK’s ambassador to France, was flying on an Avro York (a transport and civil adaptation of the Lancaster heavy bomber) and he noted in his diary: “I think the designer of the York has discovered the shape of an armchair in which it is quite impossible to be comfortable, if this is typical of the civil transport plane in which were are to compete against the US, we are already beaten.”  As Lindsay Lohan’s smiles indicate, as least on private jets, the seats are now comfortable.

Not quite an Edsel, not yet a Mercury: The 1960 Comet; it was an era of imaginative (other use different adjectives) styling (and at this time they were still "stylists" and not "designers").

The Mercury Comet, built in four generations between 1960-1969 and another between 1971-1977, had a most unusual beginning.  The Ford Motor Company (“FoMoCo”, Mercury’s parent corporation) had in the mid 1950s studied the five-tier (Chevrolet, Pontiac, Oldsmobile, Buick, Cadillac) branding used by General Motors (GM) and decided it too would create a five divisional structure (which by 1955 Chrysler had also matched).  The GM model dated from the 1920s and was called the “ladder” (GM at times had more than five rungs) and the idea was each step on the later would take a buyer into a higher price (and at least theoretically more profitable) range of models.  There was a time when this approach made sense but even in the 1950s when Ford embarked on their restructure it was beginning to fragment, the implications of which would become apparent over the decades.  Thus Ford ended up (firefly) with five divisions: Ford, Mercury, Edsel, Lincoln and Continental.  That didn’t last long and Continental was the first to go, followed soon by the still infamous Edsel and the corporation even flirted with the idea of shuttering Lincoln.

1963 Mercury Comet S-22 Convertible.

The original plan had been for the Comet to be the “small Edsel” but by the time the release date drew close, the decision had been taken to terminate the Edsel brand so the Q&D (quick & dirty) solution was to sell the car through the Lincoln-Mercury dealer network, an expedient which lasted for the 1960 & 1961 model years before the Comet was integrated into the Mercury range and badged appropriately.  The early Comets were built on the Falcon platform (“compact” in contemporary US terms) but when the 1966 range was released, the cars became “intermediates” (ie the size between the “compact” and “full-size” platforms) but the Comet name was withdrawn from use after 1969.  It was in 1971 revived for Mercury’s companion to the Maverick, Ford’s replacement for the compact Falcon which slotted above the Pinto which was in a domestic class so compact the industry coined the class-designation “sub compact”.  Cheap to produce and essentially “disposable”, the Maverick and Comet proved so popular they continued in production for a season even after their nominal replacements were in showrooms.

1967 Mercury Comet Cyclone "R Code", one of 60 built that year with the 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) FE side-oiler V8 and one of the 19 with a four-speed manual transmission.

The Mercury Comet has never attracted great interest from collectors because few were built with the more robust or exotic drive-trains found more frequently in both the competition from GM & Chrysler and the companion versions from Ford.  The mid-range performance package for the general market was the Comet Cyclone, introduced in 1964 to replace the Comet’s earlier S-22 option; neither were big sellers but they were not expensive to produce and remained profitable parts of the Mercury range.  In 1968, during the peak of the muscle car era, Mercury sought to promote the line, dropping the Comet name and promoting the machines as the “Cyclone”, now with quite potent engines although the emphasis clearly was drag racing rather than turning corners; the high performance package was now called the “Cyclone Spoiler”.  For the NASCAR circuits however, there was in 1969 the Cyclone Spoiler II, one of the so-called “aero cars”, the better known of which were the much more spectacular, be-winged Dodge Daytona (1969) and Plymouth Superbird (1970).  Chrysler’s cars looked radical to achieve what they did but the modifications which created the Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II and Ford Torino Talladega were so subtle as to be barely noticeable, the most effective being the increased slope on the lengthened nose, the flush grill and some changes which had the effect of lowering both the centre of gravity and the body.  The Ford and Mercury might have been a less spectacular sight than the Dodge or Plymouth but on the tracks the seeming slight tweaks did the job and both were among the fastest and most successful of their brief era.

1969 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II (slab-sided but slippery, left), 1970 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler (sleek but less aerodynamic than its predecessor, centre) and the aborted 1970 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II (handicapped out of contention by NASCAR, right).   

In 1970, just how aerodynamic was the 1969 Cyclone Spoiler was proved when the racing teams tried the new model which, although it looked sleek, was not as aerodynamically efficient and noticeably slower.  That might seem something of an own goal but Ford were blindsided by NASCAR’s decision to render the low-volume “aero cars” uncompetitive by restricting them to the use of 305 cubic inch (5.0 litre) engines while the conventional bodies were permitted to use the full 430 (7.0).  Thus the aerodynamic modifications planned for the 1970 Torino and Cyclone never entered production.  Of the two prototype Cyclone Spoiler IIs built, one survives revealing a nose which was in its own way as radical as those earlier seen on the Plymouth and Dodge.  In the collector market, the aero cars are much sought but the Cyclones are the least valued which may seem strange because they were on the circuits among the most successful of the era.  Market analysts attribute this to (1) the Cyclone Spoiler II (and Torino Talladega) being visually much less eye-catching than the wild-looking pair from Chrysler and (2) the Cyclone Spoiler II being sold only with a modest 351 cubic inch (5.8 litre) engine whereas the Fords ran 428s (7.0) and the Chryslers 440 (7.2) & 426 (6.9) units, the latter a version of the engine actually used in the race cars.

The highly qualified Kate Upton (b 1992) was in 2014 featured in a Sports Illustrated session filmed in a "vomit comet" (a modified Boeing 727 with a padded interior).