Undecennial

Undecennial (pronounced uhn-duh-seh-nee-uhl)

(1) Occurring or observed every eleventh year.

(2) As “undecennial magnetic period”, the Sun’s solar cycle.

1858: The construct was undec-, (from the Latin undecim, (eleven), the construct being unus (one) + decem (ten)) + -ennial.  The -ennial suffix was from the Latin -enniālis, the construct being annus (year (and figuratively “time, season, epoch”)) + -ium (the suffix used to form abstract nouns) + -ālis (suffixed to nouns or numerals creating adjectives of relationship).  It was a combining form denoting years.  The Latin undecentesimus was from ūndēcentum (ninety-nine; 99).  In Roman numerals, 99 was written as XCIX, the construct of which was XC (90: 100 minus 10) + IX (9: 10 minus 1) thus XC (90) plus IX (9) equals XCIX (99).  The fear of the number 11 is described as hendecaphobia.  The alternative adjective (and non-standard noun) is undecennary (once every eleven years) and the adjective in Portuguese is undecenal.  Undecennial & undecennary are adjectives and a (non-standard) noun; the noun plural is undecennials.

Centennial (every hundred years; commemoration of an event that happened a hundred years earlier) is the best known of the words suffixed with “-ennial” but there are fun constructs with meanings not immediately obvious including demisesquicentennial (75 years), the construct being demi- (half-of) +‎ sesqui- (one-and-a-half) +‎ centennial (of 100 years) and quadranscentennial (twenty-fifth anniversary (now often called “silver jubilee)), the construct being quad, from the Latin quadrans (quarter) + -ennium (a variant of annus) + -ālis (the “quad” thus a reference to the four 25 year quarter-centuries in a century).  Unfortunately, sexennial (pertaining to a period of six years; taking place once every six years) (the construct being sexennium (a period of six years) + -al) means just a “six year period or cycle” although in August 2024, in Boston Massachusetts there was the Sexennial: A Sex-Positive Variety Show.

In modern use, there’s also been some re-purposing.  The first use of “postmillennial” was to describe the world after the year 1000 and it has been used of things Pos-2000 but it was also adopted in the nineteenth century by certain Christian sects to describe the doctrine the Second Coming of Christ will take place after the millennium; the antonym was premillennial (pertaining to the belief the Second Coming will take place before the millennium.).  In the 21^st century, it’s used also of “Generation Z”, the one following the “Millennial Generation”.  Premillennial seems not to be used in this context (that would be the (Baby) Boomers).  The construct of the adjective perennial was the Latin perenn(is) (lasting through the whole year or for several years, perennial; continual, everlasting, perpetual”) + the English -al (the adjective-forming suffix imparting the meaning “of or pertaining to”.  It’s familiar from its use in botany where it describes plants active throughout the year, or having a life cycle of more than two growing seasons (and thus used sometimes in the sense of “appearing again each year; annual”) but is used also (sometime loosely) of waterways and such.  In figurative use, “perennial” is used widely (and loosely) of just about anything (art, music, politics et al) with the quality of or tending to “continuing without cessation or intermission for several years, or for an undetermined or infinite period; never-ending or never failing; perpetual, unceasing”.

Images from NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory highlight the appearance of the Sun at solar minimum (December 2019, left) versus solar maximum (May 2024, right).  These images are in the 171-angstrom wavelength of extreme ultraviolet light, which reveals the active regions on the Sun that are more common during solar maximum.

The Sun’s 11-year cycle was first detected in 1843 by German apothecary & amateur astronomer Heinrich Schwabe (1789–1875). Schwabe noticed a pattern in the number of sunspots that appeared on the Sun's surface over time.  In 1825 Herr Schwabe obtained his first telescope and between then and 1867 (on every day the skies were clear) he recorded the size & shape of sunspots and it was in 1838 he first suspected the phenomenon might be cyclical, his initial findings suggesting a ten-year cycle.  The discovery was wholly serendipitous because he wasn’t interested in sunspots (then thought random events) but was one of a number of astronomers searching for “Vulcan” a speculative planet in an orbit between Mercury which theories suggested should exist because its presence would account for the otherwise inexplicable peculiarities in Mercury's orbital path.  As a theory, the science was sound because earlier the same math had been used correctly to predict the existence of Neptune, based on calculation which determined the gravitational influence required to explain disturbances in the orbit of Uranus.  Over the decades, sightings of Vulcan had been reported but all quickly were discounted and the search continued until Albert Einstein’s (1879-1955) theory of general relativity (1915) was confirmed and Mercury's variation from the orbit predicted by Newtonian physics was understood to be a manifestation of the curvature of space-time induced by the mass of the Sun.

Because of Vulcan’s predicted proximity to the Sun, it would have been very difficult to observe with the telescopes of the nineteenth century, the only plausible method being to view it during its transit in front of the Sun.  The reason Herr Schwabe kept notebooks with almost daily sketches of the Sun and its spots was that he wanted to ensure he would never confuse a spot with the passing Vulcan and mush have be surprised when he noticed the suggesting of a cyclical pattern.  In 1843 he published his initial findings which indicated sunspot activity appeared to peak every ten-odd years and which his paper attracted little interest, it did inspire a Swiss professional astronomer to begin his own regular observations and these, combined with Herr Schwabe’s earlier drawings confirmed the sun’s undecennial pattern.  The use in 1858 of “undecennial” to describe the solar cycle seems to have been the first use of the word in English.

Visible light images from NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory highlight the appearance of the Sun at solar minimum (Dec 2019, left) versus solar maximum (May 2024, right). During solar minimum, often the Sun is "spotless".

The Sun's eleven-year cycle (the solar cycle) is driven almost wholly by changes in the body’s magnetic field dynamics.  The Sun’s magnetic field isn’t as stable as that of Earth which, although subject to some ongoing movement, retains its essential polarity for at least hundreds of thousands of years.  Deep within the Sun there exists a layer called the convection zone (where hot plasma rises, cools, and sinks) and these interactions, over time, cause the Sun’s magnetic field lines to twist and tangle.  Things are influenced also by differential rotation, the Sun rotating faster at its equator than at its poles (the equatorial regions taking some 25 days to complete a rotation, the polar regions around 35.  What this does is “stretches and wind up” the magnetic field lines, resulting in what astronomers describe as “a twisted, complex magnetic environment”.  All this combines to produce the “solar maximum & minimum”: Every eleven years the “twisted & tangled” magnetic field lines stretch to the point where suddenly they “snap”, creating a realigning process in which they are “straightened out”.  During solar maximum, the Sun has many sunspots (regions of intense magnetic activity), solar flares, and coronal mass ejections.  When the cycle resets to solar minimum, these activities reduce as the Sun's magnetic field temporarily stabilizes.  The other obvious effect of the undecennial magnetic period is the periodic polarity flip:  Every 11 years, the Sun’s magnetic poles reverse, north becoming south and vice-versa, something which happens on earth every few hundred-thousand years.

Quantum Tech Club's chart of the solar cycle: This cycle of low-high-low sun activity operates on a cycle of about eleven years though there are always variations, the length of each cycle not exact and the volume of activity also varies.  The previous Solar Cycle (24) was classified "not particularly active" and the current cycle (25) was predicted to be similar but it turned out to be more vibrant.  So, while the numbers bounce around, the undecennial pattern remains constant. 

For cultural reasons, an eleven year cycle sounds somehow strange to us and we’re unaccustomed to such things being associated with prime numbers although in entomology there are insects with no aversion to primes.  In entymology, there are insects with no fear of the number 17.  In the US, the so-called “periodical cicadas” (like those of the genus Magicicada) exist in a 17 year life cycle, something thought to confer a number of evolutionary advantages, all tied directly to the unique timing of their mass emergence: (1) The predator satiation strategy: The creatures emerge in massive numbers (in the billions), their sheer volume meaning it’s physically impossible for predators (both small mammals & birds) to eat enough of them to threaten the survival of the species. (2) Prime number cycles: Insects are presumed to be unaware of the nature of prime numbers but 17 is a prime number and there are also periodic cicadas with a 13 year cycle.  The 13 (Brood XIX) & 17-year (Brood X) periodic cicadas do sometimes emerge in the same season but, being prime numbers, it’s a rare event, the numbers' least common multiple (LCM) being 221 years; the last time the two cicadas emerged together was in 1868 and the next such even is thus expected in 2089.  The infrequency in overlap helps maintain the effectiveness of the predator avoidance strategies, the predators typically having shorter (2-year, 5-year etc) cycles which don’t synchronize with the cicadas' emergence, reducing chances a predator will evolve to specialize in feeding on periodical cicadas. (3) Avoidance of Climate Variability: By remaining underground for 17 years, historically, periodical cicadas avoided frequent climate changes or short-term ecological disasters like droughts or forest fires. The long underground nymph stage also allows them to feed consistently over many years and emerge when the environment is more favorable for reproduction.  Etymologists and biological statisticians are modelling scenarios under which various types of accelerated climate change are being studied to try to understand how the periodic cicadas (which evolved under “natural” climate change) may be affected. (4) Genetic Isolation: Historically, the unusually extended period between emergences has isolated different broods of cicadas, reducing interbreeding and promoting genetic diversity over time, helping to maintain healthy populations over multiple life-cycles.

Lohanic undecenniality: Lindsay Lohan at eleven year intervals: 2002 (left), 2013 (centre) and 2024 (right).

A “year” as defined (one orbit of our world around the sun) on Earth is a standard measure and on this planet it makes complete sense but in other places (such as the Sun) it’s just an abstraction although we map “years” onto many remote places, vast distances best understood as expressed in “light years” although cosmologists for many purposes prefer the parsec (a unit of astronomical length, based on the distance from Earth at which a star would have a parallax of one second of arc which is equivalent to 206,265 times the distance from the earth to the sun or 3.26 light-years.  Its lineal equivalent is about 19.1 trillion miles (30.8 trillion km)).  It takes Pluto 248 Earth years to make its orbit of the Sun so that’s the length of one Plutoian year, meaning that between being discovered in 1930 and the humorous cosmic clerks at the International Astronomical Union (IAU) in 2006 voting re-classify Pluto as a dwarf planet (on the basis that the icy orb failed to meet a set of criteria which the IAU claimed had been accepted for decades), not even on year had there passed.

So it’s only on Earth one of our “years” is of direct relevance and we tend to measure anniversaries with the numbers we prefer (1, 2, 5, 10, 20, 25, 50. 100, 250, 500, 1000, 10,000 etc) (21 is a special case) but this meaning nothing to the physics of the Sun and even here there have been cultures in which some things have tended to the undecennial.  In India, the Kumbh Mela (or Kumbha Mela) is one of the great pilgrimage festivals in Hinduism (the pre-Covid gathering in 2019 said to be the largest (peaceful) assembly of people ever known) and although it is celebrated in what tends to be a twelve year cycle, because of the complexity and regional distribution of some celebrations, there have been times when things have happened at an eleven year interval.  Among the indigenous peoples of North America (notably the Hopi), there were also reports from anthropologists of ceremonial cycles based on natural and astronomical cycles that can approximate an eleven year pattern due to environmental changes or social cycles, although it doesn’t appear the intervals ever assumed a precise, recurrent eleven-year pattern.  Certain ceremonies were linked with observations of the sun (and other celestial bodies), aligning closely with solar maximums in some cases.

Rack

Rack (pronounced rak)

(1) A framework of bars, wires, or pegs on which articles are arranged or deposited.

(2) A fixture containing several tiered shelves, often affixed to a wall.

(3) A vertical framework set on the sides of a wagon and able to be extended upward for carrying hay, straw, or the like in large loads.

(4) In certain cue sports (pool, snooker), a frame of triangular shape within which the balls are arranged before play; the balls so arranged.

(5) In butchery & cooking, the rib section of a fore-saddle of lamb, mutton, pork or veal (historically used also of the neck portion).

(6) In nephology (the branch of meteorology concerned with cloud formation, structure, classification, and dynamics), as “cloud rack”, a group of drifting clouds.

(7) In machinery, a bar, with teeth on one of its sides, adapted to engage with the teeth of a pinion rack and pinion or the like, as for converting circular into rectilinear motion or vice versa (nest known as the “rack & pinion” steering apparatus used in motor vehicles.

(8) An instrument of torture consisting of a framework on which a victim was tied, often spread-eagled, by the wrists and ankles, to be slowly stretched by spreading the parts of the framework; there were many variations.

(9) As “on the rack”, originally a reference to the torture in progress, later adopted figuratively to describe a state of intense mental or physical suffering, torment, or strain.

(10) In equestrian use, the fast pace of a horse in which the legs move in lateral pairs but not simultaneously (the “horse's rack”).

(11) In military use, a fixed (though sometimes with some scope for movement for purposes of aiming), a framework fixed to an aircraft, warship or vehicle and used as a mounting for carrying bombs, rockets, missiles etc.

(12) In zoology, a pair of antlers (more commonly used of wall mounted trophies (eight-point rack etc)).

(13) In slang, ruin or destruction (a state or rack).

(14) In slang, a woman's breasts (often with a modifier).

(15) In slang, a large amount of money (historically a four-figure sum).

(16) In military, prison and other institutional slang, a bed, cot, or bunk.

(17) In slang, to go to bed; go to sleep.

(18) In slang, to wreck (especially of vehicles).

(19) In slang, as “to rack up”, a sudden or dramatic increase in the price of goods or services.

(20) In slang, to tally, accumulate, or amass, as an achievement or score (often expressed as “racked up”).

(21) In vinification (wine-making), to draw off (wine, cider etc) from the lees (to “rack into” a clean barrel).

(22) To torture; acutely to distress or torment (often expressed as “racked with pain”).

(23) To strain in mental effort (often expressed as “racked her brain”).

(24) To strain by physical force or violence; to strain beyond what is normal or usual.

(25) To stretch the body of a victim in torture by the use of a rack.

(26) In nautical use, to seize two ropes together, side by side:

(27) In cue sports, as “rack 'em up”, to place the balls on the tales in the correct spot with the use of a rack.

1250–1300: From the Middle English noun rakke & rekke, from the Middle Dutch rac, rec & recke (framework) and related to the Old High German recchen (to stretch), the Old Norse rekja (to spread out), the Middle Low German reck and the German Reck.  The use to mean “wreck” dates from the late sixteenth century and was a phonetic variant of the earlier wrack, from the Middle English wrake, wrache & wreche, a merging of the Old English forms wracu & wræc (misery, suffering) and wrǣċ (vengeance, revenge).  Except as a literary or poetic device (used to impart the quality of “vengeance; revenge; persecution; punishment; consequence; trouble”) or in some dialects to mean “ruin, destruction; a wreck”), wrack is now archaic.  The equestrian use (the fast pace of a horse in which the legs move in lateral pairs but not simultaneously (the “horse's rack”)) dates from the 1570s and the origin is obscure but it may have been a variant of “rock” (ie the idea of a “rocking motion”).  Nephology (the branch of meteorology concerned with cloud formation, structure, classification, and dynamics) adopted “cloud rack” (a group of drifting clouds) from mid-fourteenth century use in Middle English where the original spellings were rak, recke & reck, from the Old English wrǣc (what is driven) and related to the Gothic wraks (persecutor) and the Swedish vrak.  The use in vinification (wine-making), describing the process of drawing off (wine, cider etc) from the lees (to “rack into” a clean barrel) dates from the mid fifteenth century and was from the Old Provençal arraca , from raca (dregs of grapes), ultimately from the by then obsolete Old French raqué (of wine pressed from the dregs of grapes).  The use in butchery & cooking (the rib section of a fore-saddle of lamb, mutton, pork or veal (historically used also of the neck portion)) dates from the mid sixteenth century and is of uncertain origin but was probably based upon either (1) the cuts being placed on some sort or rack for preparation or (2) having some sort or resemblance to “a rack”.  Rack is a noun & verb, racker is a noun, racking is a noun, verb & adjective, racked is a verb and rackingly is an adverb; the noun plural is racks.

Racking them up: Lindsay Lohan playing snooker.

In idiomatic use, the best known include “racking one’s brains” (thinking hard), “going to rack and ruin” (to decay, decline, or become destroyed”, “on the rack” (originally a reference to the torture in progress, later adopted figuratively to describe a state of intense mental or physical suffering, torment, or strain) and “racked with pain” (again an allusion to the consequences of being “racked” “on the rack”).  The “rack” as a description of a woman’s breasts is one in a long list of slang terms for that body part and dictionaries of slang are apparently divided on where it’s the breasts, genitals or buttocks which have provided the most inspiration for the creation of such forms.  The Australian slang “rack off” is an alternative to the many other forms popular in the country used to mean “please go away” including “sod off”, “piss off”, “fuck off”, “bugger off” etc; depending on context and tone of voice, these can range from affectionate to threatening.

Luggage rack & ski rack page in the 1968 Chrysler Parts Accessories Catalog (left) and promotional images for the 1968 Chrysler Town and Country (right).  Because the full-sized US station wagons could be fitted with a third seat in the back compartment (thus becoming eight-seaters), the roof-rack was sometime an essential fitting.

In transport, luggage racks were among the earliest “accessories” in that they were additions to hand & horse-drawn carts and carriages which enabled more stuff to be carried without reducing the passenger-carrying capacity.  There were “roof racks” and “trunk racks”, both there for the purpose of carrying trunks, secured usually with leather straps.  The most obvious carry-over to motorized vehicles was the roof-rack, still a popular fitting and still sometimes fitted as standard equipment to certain station wagons (estate cars).

1972 De Tomaso Pantera.

Although it wouldn’t have been something the designer considered, the mid-engined De Tomaso Pantera (1971-1992) had a rear section so suited to the provision of a luggage rack that Gran Turismo (a after-market accessories supplier) produced one which was as elegant as any ever made.  Because of the location directly behind the rear window, when loaded it obviously would have restricted rearward visibility so in certain jurisdictions doubtlessly it would have been declared unlawful but it one lives somewhere more permissive, it remains a practical apparatus.  Ironically, the Pantera had probably the most capacious frunk (a front mounted trunk (boot)) ever seen in a mid-engined sports cars and one easily able to accommodate the luggage the car’s two occupants were likely to need for a weekend jaunt.  Even if superfluous however, in the collector market it’s an interesting period piece and well-designed; easily removed for cleaning, the four mounting brackets remain affixed to the deck lid.

1973 Chrysler Newport two-door hardtop (left) and 1973 Triumph Stag (right).

Larger cars of course carried more than two and if they travelled over distances, usually they carried luggage.  The full-sized US cars of the early 1970s were very big and had a lot of trunk space but many, with bench seats front and rear were configured as genuine six-seaters and that could mean a lot of luggage.  Accordingly, both the manufacturers and after-market suppliers in the era offered a range of luggage racks.  Upon debut, the lovely but flawed Triumph Stag (1970-1978) was a much-praised design which offered the pleasure of open-air motoring with the practicality of four seats (although those in the rear were best suited for children) but the sleek, low lines did mean trunk space was not generous and luggage racks were a popular fitting.

1959 Austin-Healey Sprite (left) and 1971 Chevrolet Corvette Convertible LS5 454/365 (right).

There have been cars (and not all of them were sports cars) with no trunk lid.  In the case of the Austin-Healey Sprite (1958-1971), the lack of the structure on the early versions (1958-1961) was a cost-saving measure (the same rationale that saw the planned retractable headlights replaced by the distinctive protuberances atop the hood (bonnet) which lent the cheerful little roaster its nickname (bugeye in North American and frogeye in the UK & most of the Commonwealth).  It had additional benefits including weight reduction and improved structural rigidity but the obvious drawback was inconvenience: to use the trunk one had to reach through the gap behind the seats.  It was easy to see why luggage racks proved a popular accessory, sales of which continued to be strong even when later versions of the Sprite (1961-1971) and the badge-engineered companion model the MG Midget (1961-1980) gained a trunk lid.  Curiously, the Chevrolet Corvette between 1953-1962 did have a trunk lid but when the second generation was released for the 1953 model year, it was removed from the specification and not until the fifth generation in 1998 did the return.  By then, the moment of the Corvette luggage rack had passed but in the early 1970s they were still often fitted and in the modern collector market, it’s one of those accessories, the very sight of which seems to upset some.

Variations of the theme: ski rack (left), bike rack (centre) and surfboard rack (right).  The luggage rack had proved an adaptable platform and specialist versions are available for many purposes but in many cases the same basic structure can be used as a multi-purpose platform with “snap-on” fittings used to secure objects of different shapes.  The Porsche 911 was an early favorite on the ski fields because of the combination of and air-cooled engine and the rear-engine/rear wheel drive configuration which provided good traction in icy conditions.

Markers of the state of civilization: Gun rack in the back window of pickup truck (left) and silver plate toast rack by Daniel & Arter of Birmingham, circa 1925 (right).

The toast rack has been in use since at least the 1770s and, like the butter knife, is one of the markers of civilized life.  That aside, their functionality lies in the way they provide a gap between the slices, allowing water vapour to escape, preventing it condensing into adjacent slices and making them soggy while also maintaining a buffer of warm air between so the cooling process is slowed.  In the way of such things, there have over the years been design ranging from the starkly simple to the extravagant but the some of the most admired are those from the art deco era of the inter-war years.

The gun rack in the back of a pickup truck is now a classic MAGA (Make America Great Again) look but the devices have been in use for decades and were always popular in rural areas with a tradition of hunting.  Whether such things are lawful depends on the jurisdiction.  In the US, some states have an “open carry” law which means one is free to carry certain firearms unconcealed and this includes gun racks which are similarly unrestricted; in states where an “open carry” permit is required, a separate permit is required for a gun rack to be used in a vehicle while in jurisdictions with no “open carry” legislation, gun racks are also banned except for those able to obtain a specific exemption.  So, it can be that travelling across state lines can involve some additional effort, even if one is authorized to carry a firearm in both placed.  Usually, this demands the weapon being unloaded and encased in an area inaccessible to both driver and passengers.

The rack as a marker of the state of civilization: Cuthbert Simpson, Tortured on the Rack in the Tower of London (1558), published in from Old England: A Pictorial Museum (1847) and reprinted in The National And Domestic History Of England by William Aubrey (circa 1890).

The most famous of the many apparatus of torture which proliferated during the Middle Ages (and beyond), the rack was an interrogation tool which remained in use until the eighteenth century.  Although the rack is most associated with the Spanish Inquisition, it was popular also in England as a device to extract confessions to various crimes, especially heresy.  The designers were imaginative and racks were produced in many forms including vertical devices and wheels but the classic version was a flat, bed-like structure, made with an open, rectangular wooden frame with rollers or bars at each end to which the wrists and ankles of the accused (or “the guilty” as often they were known) were secured.  The rollers moved in opposite directions by the use of levers, and the victim’s joints slowly and painfully were separated.

RACK is used as an acronym, one being “Random Act of Conditionless Kindness” which seems not substantively different from the better known “random act of kindness” although presumably it imparts some depth of emphasis, given “random acts of conditional kindness” may be a more commonly observed phenomenon.  In certain sub-sets of the BDSM (Bondage, Discipline (or Dominance) & Submission (or Sadomasochism) community, RACK means either “Risk-Aware Consensual Kink” or “Risk-Accepted Consensual Kink).  Both describe a permissive attitude towards conduct which is to some degree “risky”, undertaken on the basis of “a voluntary assumption of risk”.  In that it differs from the tastes of BDSM’s SSC (Safe, Sane & Consensual) sub-set which restricts it proclivities to things “not risky”.  The RACK practitioners acknowledge the difficulties inherent in their proclivities, what they do not a distinction between “safe” & “unsafe” but rather “safer” and “less safe” (ie degrees of danger).  What this means is that in extreme cases there are potential legal consequences because while the implication or RACK is that one can “contract out” of the statutory protections usually available in such interactions, in the case of serious injury or death, the usually legal principles would apply.

Frango

Frango (pronounced fran-goh)

(1) A young chicken (rare in English and in Portuguese, literally “chicken”).

(2) Various chicken dishes (an un-adapted borrowing from the Portuguese).

(3) In football (soccer) (1) a goal resulting from a goalkeeper’s error and (2) the unfortunate goalkeeper.

(4) The trade name of a chocolate truffle, now sold in Macy's department stores. 

In English, “frango” is most used in the Portuguese sense of “chicken” (variously “a young chicken”, “chicken meat”, “chicken disk” etc) and was from the earlier Portuguese frângão of unknown origin.  In colloquial figurative use, a frango can be “a young boy” and presumably that’s an allusion to the use referring to “a young chicken”.  In football (soccer), it’s used (sometimes trans-nationally) of a goal resulting from an especially egregious mistake by the goalkeeper (often described in English by the more generalized “howler”.  In Brazil, where football teams are quasi-religious institutions, such a frango (also as frangueiro) is personalized to describe the goalkeeper who made the error and on-field blunders are not without lethal consequence in South America, the Colombian centre-back Andrés Escobar (1967–1994) murdered in the days after the 1994 FIFA World Cup, an event reported as a retribution for him having scored the own goal which contributed to Colombia's elimination from the tournament. Frango is a noun; the noun plural is frangos.

The Classical Latin verb frangō (to break, to shatter) (present infinitive frangere, perfect active frēgī, supine frāctum) which may have been from the primitive Indo-European bhreg- (to break) by not all etymologists agree because descendants have never been detected in Celtic or Germanic forks, thus the possibility it might be an organic Latin creation.  The synonyms were īnfringō, irrumpō, rumpō & violō.  As well as memorable art, architecture and learning, Ancient Rome was a world also of violence and conflict and there was much breaking of stuff, the us the figurative use of various forms of frangō to convey the idea of (1) to break, shatter (a promise, a treaty, someone's ideas (dreams, projects), someone's spirit), (2) to break up into pieces (a war from too many battles, a nation) and (3) to reduce, weaken (one's desires, a nation).

A frangō in the sense of the Classical Latin: Lindsay Lohan with broken left wrist (fractured in two places in an unfortunate fall at Milk Studios during New York Fashion Week) and 355 ml (12 fluid oz) can of Rehab energy drink, Los Angeles, September 2006.  The car is a 2006 Mercedes-Benz SL 65 AMG (R230; 2004-2011) which would later feature in the tabloids after a low-speed crash.  The R230 range (2001-2011) was unusual because of the quirk of the SL 550 (2006-2011), a designation used exclusively in the North American market, the RoW (rest of the world) cars retaining the SL 500 badge even though both used the 5.5 litre (333 cubic inch) V8 (M273).

The descendents from the Classical Latin frangō (to break, to shatter) included the Aromanian frãngu (to break, to destroy; to defeat), the Asturian frañer (to break; to smash) & francer (to smash), the English fract (to break; to violate (long obsolete)) & fracture ((1) an instance of breaking, a place where something has broken. (2) in medicine a break in a bone or cartilage and (3) in geology a fault or crack in a rock), the Friulian franzi (to break), the German Fraktur ((1) in medicine, a break in a bone & (2) a typeface) & Fraktion (2) in politics, a faction, a parliamentary grouping, (3) in chemistry, a fraction (in the sense of a component of a mixture), (4) a fraction (part of a whole) and (5) in the German-speaking populations of Switzerland, South Tyrol & Liechtenstein, a hamlet (adapted from the Italian frazione)), the Italian: frangere (1) to break (into pieces), (2) to press or crush (olives), (3) in figurative use and as a literary device, to transgress (a commandment, a convention of behavior etc), (4) in figurative use to weaken (someone's resistance, etc.) and (5) to break (of the sea) (archaic)), the Ladin franjer (to break into pieces), the Old Franco provençal fraindre (to break; significantly to damage), the Old & Middle French fraindre (significantly to damage), the Portuguese franzir (to frown (to form wrinkles in forehead)), the Romanian frânge (1) to break, smash, fracture & (2) in figurative use, to defeat) and frângere (breaking), the Old Spanish to break), and the Spanish frangir (to split; to divide).

Portuguese lasanha de frango (chicken lasagna).

In Portuguese restaurants, often heard is the phrase de vaca ou de frango? (beef or chicken?) and that’s because so many dishes offer the choice, much the same as in most of the world (though obviously not India).  In fast-food outlets, the standard verbal shorthand for “fried chicken” is “FF” which turns out to be one of the world’s most common two letter abbreviations, the reason being one “F” representing of English’s most unadapted linguistic exports.  One mystery for foreigners sampling Portuguese cuisine is: Why is chicken “frango” but chicken soup is “sopa de galinha?”  That’s because frango is used to mean “a young male chicken” while a galinha is an adult female.  Because galinha meat doesn’t possess the same tender quality as that of a frango, (the females bred and retained mostly for egg production), slaughtered galinhas traditionally were minced or shredded and used for dishes such as soups, thus: sopa de galinha (also as canja de galinha or the clipped caldo and in modern use, although rare, sopa de frango is not unknown).  That has changed as modern techniques of industrial farming have resulted in a vastly expanded supply of frango meat so, by volume, most sopa de galinha is now made using frangos (the birds killed young, typically between 3-4 months).  Frangos have white, drier, softer meat while that of the galinha is darker, less tender and juicer and the difference does attract chefs in who do sometimes offer a true sopa de galinha as a kind of “authentic peasant cuisine”.

There are also pintos (pintinhos in the diminutive) which are chicks only a few days old but these are no longer a part of mainstream Portuguese cuisine although galetos (chicks killed between at 3-4 weeks) are something of a delicacy, usually roasted.  The reproductive males (cocks or roosters in English use) are galos.  There is no tradition, anywhere in Europe, of eating the boiled, late-developing fertilized eggs (ie a bird in the early stages of development), a popular dish in the Philippines and one which seems to attract virulent disapprobation from many which culturally is interesting because often, the same critics happily will consume both the eggs and the birds yet express revulsion at even the sight of the intermediate stage.  Such attitudes are cultural constructs and may be anthropomorphic because there’s some resemblance to a human foetus.

Lindsay Lohan at Macy's and Teen People's Freaky Friday Mother/Daughter Fashion Show, Macy's Herald Square, New York City, August 2003.  It's hoped she had time for a Frango.

 Now sold in Macy’s Frangos are a chocolate truffle created in 1918 for sale in Frederick & Nelson department stores.  Although originally infused with mint, many variations ensued and they became popular when made available in the Marshall Field department stores which in 1929 acquired Frederick & Nelson although it’s probably their distribution by Macy's which remains best known.  Marshall Field's marketing sense was sound and they turned the Frango into something of a cult, producing them in large melting pots on the 13th floor of the flagship Marshall Field's store on State Street until 1999 when production was out-sourced to a third party manufacturer in Pennsylvania.  In the way of modern corporate life, the Frango has had many owners, a few changes in production method and packaging and some appearances in court cases over rights to the thing but it remains a fixture on Macy’s price lists, the trouble history reflected in the “Pacific Northwest version” being sold in Macy's Northwest locations in Washington, Idaho, Montana and Oregon while the “Seattle version” is available in Macy's Northwest establishments.  There are differences between the two and each has its champions but doubtless there are those who relish both.

A patent application (with a supporting trademark document) for the Frango was filed in 1918, the name a re-purposing of a frozen dessert sold in the up-market tea-room at Frederick & Nelson's department store in Seattle, Washington.  The surviving records suggest the “Seattle Frangos” were flavoured not with mint but with maple and orange but what remains uncertain is the origin of the name.  One theory is the construct was Fr(ederick’s) + (t)ango which is romantic but there are also reports employees were told, if asked, to respond it was from Fr(ederick) –an(d) Nelson Co(mpany) with the “c” switched to a “g” because the word “Franco” had a long established meaning.  Franco was a word-forming element meaning “French” or “the Franks”, from the Medieval Latin combining form Franci (the Franks), thus, by extension, “the French”.  Since the early eighteenth century it had been used when forming English phrases & compound words including “Franco-Spanish border” (national boundary between France & Spain), Francophile (characterized by excessive fondness of France and all things French (and thus its antonym Francophobe)) and Francophone (French speaking).

Hitler and Franco, photographed at their day-long meeting at Hendaye, on the Franco-Spanish border, 23 October 1940.  Within half a decade, Hitler would kill himself; still ruling Spain, Franco died peacefully in his bed, 35 years later.

Remarkably, the Frango truffles have been a part of two political controversies.  The first was a bit of a conspiracy theory, claiming the sweet treats were originally called “Franco Mints”, the name changed only after the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) in which the (notionally right-wing and ultimately victorious) Nationalist forces were led by Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975) and the explanation was that Marshall Field wanted to avoid adverse publicity.  Some tellings of the tale claim the change was made only after the Generalissimo’s meeting with Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) at Hendaye (on the Franco-Spanish border) on 23 October 1940.  Their discussions concerned Spain's participation in the War against the British but it proved most unsatisfactory for the Germans, the Führer declaring as he left that he'd rather have "three of four teeth pulled out" than have to again spend a day meet with the Caudillo.  Unlike Hitler, Franco was a professional soldier, thought war a hateful business best avoided and, more significantly, had a shrewd understanding of the military potential of the British Empire and the implications for the war of the wealth and industrial might of the United States.  The British were fortunate Franco took the view he did because had he agreed to afford the Wehrmacht (the German armed forces) the requested cooperation to enable them to seize control of Gibraltar, the Royal Navy might have lost control of the Mediterranean, endangering the vital supplies of oil from the Middle East, complicating passage to the Indian Ocean and beyond and transforming the strategic position in the whole hemisphere.  However, in the archives is the patent application form for “Frangos” dated 1 June 1918 and there has never been any evidence to support the notion “Franco” was ever used for the chocolate truffles.

Macy's Dark Mint Frangos.

The other political stoush (a late nineteenth century Antipodean slang meaning a "fight or small-scale brawl) came in 1999 when, after seventy years, production of Frangos was shifted from the famous melting pots on the thirteenth floor of Marshall Field's flagship State Street store to Gertrude Hawk Chocolates in Dunmore, Pennsylvania, the decision taken by the accountants at the Dayton-Hudson Corporation which had assumed control in 1990.  The rationale of this was logical, demand for Frangos having grown far beyond the capacity of the relatively small space in State Street to meet demand but it upset many locals, the populist response led Richard Daley (b 1942; mayor (Democratic Party) of Chicago Illinois 1989-2011), the son of his namesake father (1902–1976; mayor (Democratic Party) of Chicago, Illinois 1955-1976) who in 1968 simultaneously achieved national infamy and national celebrity (one’s politics dictating how one felt) in his handling of the police response to the violence which beset the 1968 Democratic National Convention held that year in the city.  The campaign to have the Frangos made instead by a Chicago-based chocolate house was briefly a thing but was ignored by Dayton-Hudson and predictably, whatever the lingering nostalgia for the melting pots, the pragmatic Mid-Westerners adjusted to the new reality and with much the same with the same enthusiasm were soon buying the imports from Pennsylvania.

Macy's Frango Mint Trios.

Remarkably, there appears to be a “Frango spot market”.  Although the increasing capacity of AI (artificial intelligence) has made the mechanics of “dynamic pricing” (a price responding in real-time to movements in demand), as long ago as the Christmas season in 2014, CBS News ran what they called the “Macy's State Street Store Frango Mint Price Tracker”, finding the truffle’s price was subject to fluctuations as varied over the holiday period as movements in the cost of gas (petrol).  On the evening of Thanksgiving, “early bird” shoppers could buy a 1 lb one-pound box of Frango mint “Meltaways” for US$11.99, the price jumping by the second week in December to US$14.99 although that still represented quite a nominal discount from the RRP (recommended retail price) of US$24.00.  Within days, the same box was again listed at US$11.99 and a survey of advertising from the previous season confirmed that in the weeks immediately after Christmas, the price had fallen to US$9.99.  It may be time for the Chicago Mercantile Exchange (CME) to open a market for Frango Futures (the latest “FF”!).

Etiolate

Etiolate (pronounced ee-tee-uh-leyt)

(1) In botany, to cause a plant to whiten or grow pale by excluding light.

(2) To cause to become weakened or sickly; to remove vigor.

(3) To drain of color; to make pale and sickly-looking; to become pale or blanched.

(4) In literary theory (usually as “etiolated verse” or etiolated text”), to revise a text to remove fanciful or pretentious forms.

1791: The past participle of the seventeenth century French étioler (to blanch) and used to mean “to make pale, to remove a light source from plants during growth to induce them to form in a lighter hue”, presumed to be a derivative of a Norman French dialect form of with the appended -ate suffix.  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.  The idea in French may have been derived from the notion of “to make the color of straw” or even literally “to become like straw” and it was used in a branch of horticulture to “turn a plant white by growing it in darkness”, the attraction of white being the association with “delicacy; purity” and it was a commercial approach in market gardens to create “high priced vegetables” and was from étiolé, past participle of the seventeenth century étioler (to blanch), probably from the Norman dialect étule (a stalk) and the Old French esteule (straw, field of stubble) from the Latin stupla from stipula (straw; stubble).  Etiolate is a verb & adjective, etiolation is a noun, etiolative is a noun & adjective, etiolated is a verb & adjective, etiolating is a verb and etiolatively is an adverb; the noun plural is etiolations.

In literary theory, “to etiolate” a text is to remove or revise the “purple passages” (known just as alliteratively also as “purple prose”).  In literature, purple passages are those sections of a text which are overly elaborate, flowery, or extravagant in style, often prioritizing ornate or decorative language and the use of needlessly long words, the meaning of which is often obscure.  Such writing is thought a literary self-indulgence or a mere pretentious display of knowledge; grandiose execution at the expense of clarity, the usual critique being “style over substance”.  The phrase is almost certainly derived from the historic use of the once rare and expensive purple dye being restricted (actually by statute or edict in some places) to royalty and even when availability became wider, the association with luxury & wealth continued.  The idea has long been a tool of critics, Roman lyric poet Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus, 65-8 BC) in his Ars Poetica (The Art of Poetry, 19 BC) referring disapprovingly to the purpureus… pannus (a purple piece of cloth), the irrelevant insertion of a grandiloquent or melodramatic passage into a work.  Horace thought this disruptive at best and absurd at worst and “purple passages” continues to be used to describe writing which is needlessly ornate, florid and usually discordantly incongruous.  Used almost always pejoratively (although there do seem to be some admirers), comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) might have called such flourishes “formalism”.  Amusingly, in an example of how idiomatic use in English must baffle those learning the language, “purple patch”, also once applied to such tortured text, would come to be used to describes any particular good period or performance (in any context), the use always wholly positive.

Pencil sketch (circa 1845) of Anne Brontë (1820–1849) by her sister Charlotte (1816–1855).

What is a purple passage is a cultural construct and in literature fashions change, some works regarded still regarded as “literary classics” written in a style which if release now would be thought absurd or a parody.  That’s because such judgments tend now to be made on the basis of the manner in which people “actually talk” and although that is highly variable and influenced by social class and regional traditions, in the age of modern media there is probably a broad (if not at the margins wholly accurate) understanding of the range and it’s to this literature need to adhere.  So, consider what Anne Brontë has the Reverend Michael Millward say in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (1848):

“But I have heard that, with some persons, temperance—that is, moderation—is almost impossible; and if abstinence be an evil (which some have doubted), no one will deny that excess is a greater. Some parents have entirely prohibited their children from tasting intoxicating liquors; but a parent’s authority cannot last for ever; children are naturally prone to hanker after forbidden things; and a child, in such a case, would be likely to have a strong curiosity to taste, and try the effect of what has been so lauded and enjoyed by others, so strictly forbidden to himself—which curiosity would generally be gratified on the first convenient opportunity; and the restraint once broken, serious consequences might ensue. I don’t pretend to be a judge of such matters, but it seems to me, that this plan of Mrs. Graham’s, as you describe it, Mrs. Markham, extraordinary as it may be, is not without its advantages; for here you see the child is delivered at once from temptation; he has no secret curiosity, no hankering desire; he is as well acquainted with the tempting liquors as he ever wishes to be; and is thoroughly disgusted with them, without having suffered from their effects.”

Once that text is etiolated, the parson is suggesting if one’s children are introduced to strong drink under parental supervision, they’ll be less likely to grow up as drunken philanders and sluts.  Did, in general discourse, even the most loquacious Church of England clergy of the 1840s talk in the way the author would have us believe or did novelists write in an elaborated, formalized style because that’s what their readers wanted?  It can’t be certain because there are only letters and no audio recordings; such transcripts as we have are from formal, set piece events like public addresses or debates in parliament which are hardly representative but on the basis of what was reported as the way “educated folk” spoke in court proceedings, it was with nothing like the prolixity of Ms Brontë’s reverend gentleman.  But that was the way fiction so often was written and the works of some who have contributed much to the canon must strike the modern reader as “artificially ornate” including John Milton (1608–1674), Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804–1864), Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849), Herman Melville (1819–1891) and Thomas Hardy (1840–1928).  Write now as they did now and expect to be accused of writing purple passages.

Beans, etiolated (left) and not (right).

For most of human history, the purpose in agriculture was to cultivate plants for optimal growth and productivity but in the eighteenth century the technique of deliberate etiolation emerged as a niche industry with specific goals.  What the gardeners did was at certain point in a plant’s development to deprive it of light while continuing to supply water and fertilizer.  What this cause was for the foliage to lose its natural color and tend towards being white, manifested usually in a “straw-like” coloring although some outcomes truly were white.  Additionally, many plants would grow with long, weak & slender stems, the elongation thought elegant compared with the thick, robust structures of those which remained exposed to natural light.  In biological terms, what the plants were doing was devoting all available energy to grow longer in the search for light, that essential element of photosynthesis, the process with which plants convert the energy from light (historically sunlight) into the chemical energy (notably sugars) used by their metabolism.

Delightfully etiolated: A stunningly pale Lindsay Lohan leaving the Byron & Tracey salon, Beverly Hills, California, September 2011.

Although the technique was used of seedlings which were started indoors or in a sheltered spot, encouraging early growth before being transplanted outside in the spring, etiolated plants were valued most for their aesthetic appeal, the association of white with not only delicacy & purity but also wealth because the pale complexion of the rich was a symbol of a privileged existence not spent toiling in the fields under the harsh sun which so darkened the skin of peasants.  Thus, etiolated plants, with their long, slender stems were prized for their visual appeal in gardens and floral arrangements while small, leafed vegetables in an unusually pale hue were prized by the chefs of the rich because they were so useful in making food into “plate art” a thing then as now and that such produce invariably lacked taste was just a price to be paid for the effect.  Of course etiolation tended to weaken plants so it was only ever a niche product for a high-priced market segment but, in controlled conditions, it did prove a useful technique in selective breeding for specific traits and it’s believed some of the long-stemmed plants still cultivated today are varieties which date for the era.

Natural selection means plants do tend to grow towards the light but many like also to grow vertically, something Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) had plenty of time to observe while serving in Berlin’s Spandau prison the twenty year sentence he was lucky to have been handed by the IMT (International Military Tribunal) in the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) for war crimes (Count three of the indictment) and crimes against humanity (Count 4).  In his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries) (1975)) he noted the mixed behaviour of the seeds he planted:

June 25, 1951: A month ago I planted peas, in groups of three, at depths of seven, fifteen, twenty-five, and forty centimeters, and watered them plentifully.  Today I undertake a cautious excavation. Even when the eye was down, the shoot turned in a sharp arc and grew vertically upward. None of the many shoots left the vertical by so much as a few degrees, not even those that germinated at a depth of forty centimeters.  Only one pea at a depth of twenty-five centimeters lost its sense of direction and grew into a confused snarl of thick threads.  In greenhouses, heating cables often keep the temperatures under the roots higher than on the surface.  So it cannot be the sun’s warmth.  A pine tree twenty meters tall growing by a shady cliff in the Black Forest does not grow toward the light, but vertically upward. Gravity, then?  It is particularly important for technology, which tries to achieve reactions similar to that of the pea, to investigate such guidance mechanisms.  New experiment.  I have dug a pit forty centimeters in depth.  At the bottom of it I lay out a row of alternating beans and peas. I close off the side toward the south with a pane of glass.  Then I fill in the pit with topsoil.  The arrangement is such that the surface of the soil is just as far from the seeds as the pane of glass.  Consequently warmth and light operate with equal intensity on both sides.  If growth is determined by one of these influences, the peas would have to grow toward the glass.  But I am still assuming that the plants have a tendency to oppose the pull of gravity.

August 22, 1951: Once again the peas have grown upward with amazing directional impulse, without reacting to the sunlight offered from the side.  Out of thirty peas, eleven have found the long way, forty centimeters, to the surface. Two peas gave up after they had grown twenty centimeters, and several others became impatient with this long distance for growing.  About eight centimeters under the surface of the soil they sent out side shoots with formed leaves.  But these peas, too, were disciplined enough to abandon these energy-consuming shoots after half a centimeter. What vital energy is displayed in these physical achievements, elaborating from a tiny round pea a tube one to one and a half millimeters in thickness and forty centimeters in length.  As I suspected, no such strong biological “instinct” can be ascribed to the beans. Out of six beans, only a single one tried to make its way to the surface, and it too gave up several centimeters before it reached its goal, while the others, obviously confused, sent shoots out in various directions from the seed.  What brings about such different behavior in such closely related plants?