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Sunday, January 19, 2025

Rat

Rat (pronounced ratt)

(1) In zoology, any of several long-tailed rodents of the family Muridae, of the genus Rattus and related genera, distinguished from the mouse by being larger.

(2) In (scientifically inaccurate) informal use, any of the numerous members of several rodent families (eg voles & mice) that resemble true rats in appearance, usually having a pointy snout, a long, bare tail, and body length greater than 5 inches (120 mm).

(3) In hairdressing, a wad of shed hair used as part of a hairstyle; a roll of material used to puff out the hair, which is turned over it.

(4) In the slang of certain groups in London, vulgar slang for the vagina.

(5) As “to rat on” or “to rat out”, to betray a person or party, especially by telling their secret to an authority or enemy; to turn someone in.

(6) One of a brace of rodent-based slang terms to differentiate between the small-block (mouse motor) and big-block (rat motor) Chevrolet V8s built mostly in the mid-late twentieth century but still available (as "crate" engines) from US manufacturers.

(7) As RAT, a small turbine that is connected to a hydraulic pump, or electrical generator, installed in an aircraft and used as a power source.

(8) Slang term for a scoundrel, especially men of dubious morality.

(9) In the criminal class and in law enforcement, slang for an informer.

(10) In politics, slang for a person who abandons or betrays his party or associates, especially in a time of trouble.

(11) Slang for a person who frequents a specified place (mall rat, gym rat etc).

(12) In hairdressing, a pad with tapered ends formerly used in women's hair styles to give the appearance of greater thickness.

(13) In the slang of blue-water sailors, a place in the sea with rapid currents and crags where a ship is prone to being broken apart in stormy weather.

(14) In zoology (in casual use), a clipping of muskrat.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English ratte, rat & rotte, from the Old English ræt & rætt, and the Latin rodere from the Proto-Germanic rattaz & rattō (related also to the West Frisian rôt, the German Ratz & Ratte and the Swedish råtta & the Dutch rat), of uncertain origin but perhaps from the primitive Indo-European rehed- (to scrape, scratch, gnaw).  Zoological anthropologists however point out it’s possible there were no populations of rats in the Northern Europe of antiquity, and the Proto-Germanic word may have referred to a different animal.  The attestation of this family of words dates from the twelfth century.  Some of the Germanic cognates show considerable consonant variation such as the Middle Low German ratte & radde and the Middle High German rate, ratte & ratze, the irregularity perhaps symptomatic of a late dispersal of the word, although some etymologists link it with the Proto-Germanic stem raþō (nom); ruttaz (gen), the variations arising from the re-modellings in the descendants.  Rat is a noun & verb, ratting is a noun & verb, rattery is a noun, ratted is a vern & ajective, rattan, rattish & ratlike are adjectives and rattily is an adverb; the noun plural is rats.

Mall rats.  In North America and other developed markets, there is now less scope for mall habitués because changing consumer behavior has resulted in a dramatic reduction in the volume of transactions conducted in physical stores and some malls are being either abandoned or re-purposed (health hubs and educational facilities being a popular use).  

The human distaste for these large rodents has made rat a productive additive in English.  Since the twelfth century it’s been applied (usually to a surname) to persons either held to resemble rats or share with them some characteristic or perception of quality with them. The specific sense of "one who abandons his associates for personal advantage" is from the 1620s, based on the belief that rats leave a ship about to sink or a house about to fall, and this led to the meaning "traitor” or “informant" although, perhaps surprisingly, there no reference to rat in this sense prior to 1902 where as the modern-sounding sense of associative frequency (mall-rat, gym-rat etc) was noted as early as 1864, firstly as “dock-rat”.  Dr Johnson dates “to smell a rat”, based on the behaviour of cats, to the 1540s.  Sir Boyle Roche (1736-1807), was an Irish MP famous for mangled phrases and mixed metaphors, of the best remembered of which was “I smell a rat; I see him forming in the air and darkening the sky; but I'll nip him in the bud".

One of Ed Roth's Rat Fink Racing Team images.

There’s the rat-terrier (1852), the rat-catcher (1590s), the rat-snake (1818), rat-poison, (1799), the rat trap (late 1400s), the rat-pack (1951) and rat-hole which in 1812, based on the holes gnawed in woodwork by rats meant “nasty, messy place”, the meaning extended in 1921 to a "bottomless hole" (especially one where money goes).  Ratfink (1963) was juvenile slang either coined or merely popularized by US custom car builder Ed "Big Daddy" Roth (1932-2001), who rendered a stylised rat on some of his creations, supposedly to lampoon Mickey Mouse.  One memorable use came from Dr Kevin Rudd (b 1957; Australian prime-minister 2007-2010 & 2013) who, becoming frustrated at the way negotiations were going at the 2009 Copenhagen climate change summit, remarked “…those Chinese fuckers are trying to rat-fuck us”.  Said to be in use as US college slang as early as the late 1950s (when it entered political use isn’t clear and one could imagine it coming from the lips of Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; VPOTUS 1961-1963 and POTUS 1963-1969) though possibly not from John Foster Dulles (1888–1959; US Secretary of State 1953-1959)), “ratfucking” is a generalized term describing covert political sabotage, dirty tricks and low skulduggery.  As Dr Rudd, suggested, the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) are as skilled at such things as political operatives anywhere.

In politics, “ratting” is the act of being elected to an assembly as a member of one political party and, once ensconced, changing party affiliation.  Ratting has a long (and not always noble) history and in some places (most famously the exciting world of the Papua New Guinea parliament) is such a feature of political life its regarded as normal behavior but in most of the English-speaking world it tends to be viewed with distaste, those practicing the art thought more often opportunistic than principled.  The “decorative” word for the act is tergiversate” but that's rare, the more evocative “ratting” much preferred and while both terms can be applied to changes of opinion or alignment in many fields, they're most often heard or seen in speech or writing about politics & politicians, a rich source of mendacity and inconsistency.  So common is political tergiversation that the frequency with which it’s reported has compelled the coining or adaptation of other terms including “flip-flopping”, “turncoating”, “U-turning” and “ratting”, some politicians known even to have embraced them.  Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) in 1901 entered the UK’s House of Commons as a Tory (Conservative), having on the hustings lambasted his opponents in the Liberal Party as “prigs, prudes and faddists” and once in parliament he warmed to the topic, accusing the Liberals of “…hiding from the public view like a toad in a hole”, adding “…when it stands forth in all its hideousness we Tories will have to hew the filthy object limb from limb.  That told the country what he must at the time have thought yet in less than three years he’d stand on the same platform and ejaculate: “I hate the Tories.  I am an English Liberal.  Obviously, that was a nailing of the colors to the mast yet by 1924, after a turbulent couple of decades, he returned to the Tory benches, all apparently forgiven (though certainly not forgotten).  Whether those tergiversations were acts of principle or a sniffing of the electoral breeze can be debated but Churchill himself took the view he’d done it all with some panache, joking in his club: “Anyone can rat, but it takes a certain ingenuity to re-rat.

Lord Chancellor Jowitt (left) and Winston Churchill Right), Cenotaph Ceremony, Remembrance Day, London, 11 November, 1945: Jowitt ratted just once, Churchill twice.

Generous in spirit, Churchill was prepared to offer procedural advice even to his nominal opponents.  After entering the House of Commons as a Liberal after the 1929 general election, William Jowitt (1885-1957) had been offered the post of attorney-general by the incoming Labour Party administration (unlike the modern era, Labour was at that point “short of good lawyers”) so ratted on the Liberals and changed affiliation.  Although, in the circumstances, he thought it right to resign his seat and seek re-endorsement under his new tag (he secured an increased majority at the by-election), his former colleagues in the Liberal Party remained unimpressed by the ratting and that his appointment was bundled with a knighthood (then customary for both an attorney-general and solicitor-general) added to their sense of betrayal.  Discussing the matter with cronies in the House of Commons Smoking Room, Churchill wickedly was sympathetic: “Poor fellow.  He didn’t know how to do it.  Now if he had come to me, I could have instructed him in the technique of tergiversation.  Sir William’s problems got worse before they got better.  Expelled from the Labour Party in 1931 after being one of a number of members to join the National Government formed to deal with the crisis of the Great Depression, he lost his seat and didn’t return to parliament until 1939, the Labour party having welcomed him back in 1936.  He served in the coalition government (1940-1945) and was then appointed Lord Chancellor after Labour’s landslide victory in the 1945 general election, sitting on the Woolsack until 1951; granted an earldom in 1952, he led the opposition in the Lords until 1955.  His textbook, Jowitt's Dictionary of English Law, was published posthumously in 1959 and, now in its sixth (2023) edition, remains a standard work of reference throughout the common-law world.

Australia has a long tradition of rattery including W.M. "Billy" Hughes (1862–1952; prime minister of Australia 1915-1923), Jack Lang (1876–1975; premier of the Australian state of New South Wales (NSW) 1925-1927 & 1930-1932) and Dr Mal Colston (1938–2003; senator for Queensland 1975-1999) but in politics, what constitutes “ratting” is decided on a “rat by rat” basis.  When in 2025 Barnaby Joyce (b 1967; twice (between local difficulties) deputy prime minister of Australia 2016-2022) announced he was leaving the National Party (of which he’d three times been leader) to join the One Nation Party, opinion was divided on whether truly he’d “ratted” on his former colleagues.  While at first glance it would seem a simple case of ratting, his decision came after the National Party officials informed him his “use by” date had been reached and he’d not be endorsed to stand at the next general election.  The party’s reasons had more to do with probity than policy, Mr Joyce’s recent history including adultery, deserting his family and being filmed one midnight sprawled in the street while drunk so, whether or not one agrees that behaviour was justification for pre-selection being withdrawn, all probably would concede: “they dumped him before he dumped them”.

Barnaby Joyce enjoying a steak for lunch with One Nation Party founder & leader Pauline Hanson (b 1954).  Apparently, she cooked their steaks in a sandwich press which seems a clever improvisation.

Still, he’d had a long innings of Teflon-like resistance to mud sticking and managed long to endure despite not enjoying much public support from “elites” he claims to despise.  When the rugby union (and other codes) player Israel Folau (b 1989) in 2019 posted on social media a list of those “God condemns to Hell” that included “drunks, homosexuals, adulterers, liars, fornicators, thieves, atheists and idolaters”, while there was strident support for the gay community, despite the mention of “adulterers” and “drunks” being obviously a blatant attack on Mr Joyce's character, not a whisper was heard in his defence.  Mr Joyce thus concluded he’d be “on his own” in saving his two-decade long political career so the sudden spike in support for One Nation proved most serendipitous. His motivations may not all be explained by a fear of what fellow adulterer Gareth Evans (b 1944; Australian Labor Party (ALP) senator or MP 1978-1999, sometime attorney-general & foreign minister) dubbed RDS (relevance deprivation syndrome).  Mr Joyce may greatly value his parliamentary salary because, as well as being newly married with two small children to support, it may be he still has some financial arrangements in place to support the youngest (now 22) of the four daughters from his previous marriage.  As well as the nominal “headline” figure of what politicians are paid, Mr Joyce will be aware the parliamentary gravy train offers much scope for (often tax-free) “topping up”, his brief appointment as a “drought envoy” an example of the system’s flexibility.

Cricket's most infamous rat (mullygrubber), MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground), 1 February, 1981.  In the 1970s, brown & beige really had been fashionable but this was the combo's death knell.

Rat has a specific meaning in the cricketing slang of the West Indies, referring to a ball which, after being delivered by the bowler, rather than bouncing off the pitch at some angle, instead runs along the ground, possibly hitting the stumps with sufficient force to dislodge the bails, dismissing the batsman, the idea being of a rat scurrying across the ground.  In Australian slang, the same delivery is called a mullygrubber which, although it sounds old-fashioned, is said to date only from the 1970s, the construct thought based on the dialectal rural term mully (dusty, powdery earth) + grub(ber) in the sense of the grubs which rush about in the dirt if disturbed in such an environment.  Such deliveries are wholly serendipitous (for the bowler) and just bad luck (for the batsman) because it's not possible for such as ball to be delivered on purpose; they happen only because of the ball striking some crack or imperfection in the pitch which radically alters it usual course to a flat trajectory.  If a batsman is dismissed as a result, it's often called a "freak ball" or "freak dismissal".  Of course if a ball is delivered underarm a rat is easy to effect but if a batsman knows one is coming, while it's hard to score from, it's very easy to defend against.  The most infamous mullygrubber was bowled at the MCG on 1 February 1981 when, with New Zealand needing to score six (by hitting the ball, on the full, over the boundary) of the final delivery of the match, the Australian bowler sent down an underarm delivery, the mullygrubber denying the batsman the opportunity to score, thereby securing an Australian victory.  Although then permissible within the rules, it was hardly in the spirit of the game and consequently, the regulations were changed.

The Ram Air Turbine

RAT (Ram Air Turbine) diagram.

The RAT (Ram Air Turbine) is a small, propeller-driven turbine connected to a hydraulic pump, or electrical generator, installed in an aircraft to generate emergency power.  In an emergency, when electrical power is lost, the RAT drops from the fuselage or wing into the air-stream where it works as a mini wind-turbine, providing sufficient power for vital systems (flight controls, linked hydraulics and flight-critical instrumentation).  In use, there is a lag between the RAT being activated (ie entering the airstream) and the electrical power being available to systems and while usually less than a minute, pilots confirm this can be "a very long minute" to those at the controls of an aircraft that has lost power while at high altitude.

Vickers VC10 in BOAC (British Overseas Airways Corporation (1939-1974) livery.

Built between 1962-1970, although fast and a favorite with passengers because the rear-engine layout guaranteed a quiet cabin, only 54 VC10s were built and, in a market dominated by Boeing's epoch-making 707 (1956-1978), success proved elusive.  Even before the 747 in 1969 ushered in the wide-body era it was clear the elegant VC10 was a cul-de-sac but the airframe enjoyed a long career.  The RAF (Royal Air Force) had some configured as VIP transports and the last of those used as in-flight re-fueling platforms (tankers) weren't retired until 2013.  Most modern commercial airliners are equipped with RATs, the first being installed on the Vickers VC10 in the early 1960s and the big Airbus A380 has the largest RAT propeller in current use at 64 inches (1.63 metres) but most are about half this size.  It’s expected as modern airliners begin increasingly to rely on electrical power, either propeller sizes will have to increase or additional RATs may be required, the latter sometimes the desirable choice because of the design limitations imposed by the height of landing gear.  A typical large RAT can produce from 5 to 70 kW but smaller, low air-speed models may generate as little as 400 watts.  Early free-fall nuclear weapons used rats to power radar altimeters and firing circuits; RATS being longer-lasting and more reliable than batteries.  

A RAT deployed.

The airline manufacturers have been exploring whether on-board fuel-cell technology can be adapted to negate the need for RAT, at least in the smaller, single-aisle aircraft where the weight of such a unit might be equal to or less than the RAT equipment.  The attraction of housing in an airliner's wing-body fairing is it would be a step towards the long-term goal of eliminating an airliner's liquid-fuelled auxiliary turbine power unit.  Additionally, if the size-weight equation could be achieved, there’s the operational advantage that a fuel-cell is easier to test than a RAT because, unlike the RAT, the fuel-cell can be tested without having to power-up most of the system.  The physics would also be attractive, the power from a fuel cell higher at lower altitudes where as the output of a RAT declines as airspeed decreases, a potentially critical matter given it’s during the relatively slow approach to a landing that power is needed to extend the trailing edge of the wing flaps and operate other controls.

If the weight and dimensions of the fuel cell is at least "comparable" to a RAT and the safety and durability testing is successful, at least on smaller aircrafts, fuel-cells might be an attractive option for new aircraft although, at this stage, the economics of retro-fitting are unlikely to be compelling.  Longer term research is also looking at a continuously running fuel cell producing oxygen-depleted exhaust gas for fuel-tank inerting (a safety system that reduces the risk of combustion in aircraft fuel tanks by lowering the oxygen concentration in the ullage (the space above the fuel) to below the level needed to support a fire, typically by replacing oxygen with an inert gas like nitrogen), and water for passenger amenities, thereby meaning an aircraft could be operated on the on the ground without burning any jet-fuel, the fuel-cell providing power for air conditioning and electrical systems.

Period photograph of an operational Messerschmitt Me 163 (left) and a Me 163 on static display, National Museum of the USAF (US Air Force), Wright-Patterson AFB (Air Force Base), Dayton, Ohio (right).

The only rocket-powered fighter ever used in combat, the Messerschmitt Me 163 Komet (1944-1945) had a small RAT in the nose to provide electrical power.  The early prototypes of the more successful (and much more influential) Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter also had a propeller in the nose for the first test flights but it wasn't a a RAT; it was attached to a piston engine installed as an emergency backup because of the chronic unreliability of the early jet engines.  It was only military necessity that forced the Luftwaffe (the German air force) to commit to combat the only rocket-powered fighter ever deployed, the Me 163 Komet powered by a rocket that burned a methanol hydrazine mix with hydrogen- peroxide as an oxidizer.  During the 1930s, almost all research into rocket propellants was undertaken in Germany, the military being interested in missiles with which to deliver warheads against long-range targets and, even then, some scientists were imagining space flight, usually with a manned visit to the moon in mind.  The experimental fuels were classed as:

Monergols: Single ingredient fuels.
Hypergols: Fuel which ignites upon constituents being combined.
Non-hypergols: Multi-constituent fuel requiring external ignition.
Lithergols: Solid / liquid hybrids.

Revolutionary, the design offered a uniquely fast rate of climb and a speed in combat more than 100 mph (160 km/h) faster than allied fighters but was hard to handle and the fuel was both highly volatile and prone to spontaneous combustion in flight or on the ground.  In air engagements, the speed that was so advantageous in reaching a target made it difficult for a pilot to maintain contact, the long bursts of fire needed usually to bring down the big bombers rarely sustained.  Most authorities estimate some 370 Me 163s were built but only 60-80 achieved operational status and they shot down only nine allied aircraft.  The Komet effectiveness was limited by its high fuel consumption that limited flight duration (the time available in the combat zone typically less than eight minutes) but the Luftwaffe's records confirm that on some days, such was the accident rate, not even half the little craft even reached operational height.  Not only was it a difficult machine to handle but, late in the war, resources were so strained that training was limited and few of the Komet's pilots had more than a few hours experience in the novel craft before deployment.  To make matters worse, although in powered flight its speed make it close to invulnerable to attack, once the fuel was burned, to return to base it had to glide back to the runway and of those lost to allied fighters, most were shot-down during landing or on the ground.  Even landing was a challenge, the undercarriage jettisoned after take-off with landings undertaken on a skid, the inevitable jolts and vibrations sometimes trigging the highly combustible fuel-mix to ignite, the subsequent inferno liable to consume both airframe and pilot.    

Early drawing of Me 163 prototype.  Historically, the Komet remains a one-off, no rocket-powered fighters since manufactured.  

It was another example of the impressive wartime technology developed by German scientists and engineers that failed to realise the possibilities offered.  Had the resources expended on the Komet instead been devoted to improving the Wasserfall (waterfall) rocket, Allied air losses might have been significantly greater.  The Wasserfall was a surface-to-air missile explicitly designed to counter high altitude bombers and used a two-stage system: (1) a solid-fuel booster rocket for launch after which (2) a liquid-fuel rocket would propel the missile to its target.  A glimpse of the future, it was guided by a radar system that tracked the target & transmitted guidance commands and was designed to be integrated with other ground-based anti-aircraft defenses such as flak batteries.  Ultimately unsuccessful because the time and resources needed for development were never available, like the V1 (an early cruise missile) and V2 (the first operational ballistic missile), the hardware, personnel and data that fell into Allied hands at the end of the war saved (on both sides of the Iron Curtain) decades of peace-time work in projects including surface to air & air to air missiles, the space programme (notably the moon landing) and the development of the big ICBMs (intercontinental ballistic missiles).  In action only between 1944-1945, tactically, it was a failure, losses far exceeding kills, but it influenced the next generation of military airframes being developed for supersonic flight and that role in the history of flight means the Me 163 is better remembered than many more successful craft ; like the V2, it was a pioneer and shares with the big rocket the unusual distinction of more personnel involved in its development, construction and operation being killed than were its victims in combat.

Peregrine Falcon (top), Northrop B-2 Spirit (centre) and Messerschmitt Me 163 (bottom).

By 1937 when sketches for what would become the Me 163 first appeared on drawing boards, biomimicry had long been a technique used by those designing airframes, birds the obvious inspiration.  For those seeking speed, the Peregrine Falcon may be a good choice; while many have been sceptical about the “calculated maximum theoretical speed” of the “ideal Peregrine Falcon” being between 250-388 mph (400-625 km/h) depending on altitude (and thus air density), Guinness World Records has accepted the bird’s speed being recorded at 242 mph (389 km/h) in a dive.  Despite that, there are ornithologists who doubt such a velocity was ever attained and claim a top speed around 150 mph (240 km/h) is likely more realistic.  Whatever the truth, it’s clear the shape of the Peregrine Falcon is well-suited high speed dives and its profile strikingly is similar to that of the Northrop B-2 Spirit, a nuclear-capable subsonic strategic “stealth” bomber operated by the USAF (US Air Force).  Designed during the High Cold War, the USAF planned to equip squadrons with more than a hundred of the things but as production began in 1989, the Berlin Wall fell and within two years the Soviet Union had collapsed, transforming the geopolitics and thus military needs.  By the time the leisurely production concluded in 2000, only 21 had left the line.  While there were many factors contributing to the lines of the Me 163 and B2 and their similarities in profiles with that of the speedy bird may be more coincidental than aeronautical, nature does often produce shapes ideal for the niche they inhabit.

The Ram Air System   

1974 Suzuki's air-cooled GT380 Sebring with Ram Air System (left) and 1975 Suzuki GT750 with water-cooling (right).

Seen also on many US muscle cars during the 1960s & 1970s, another use of the "ram-air" was to "scoop & feed" cool air, either to induction systems where the lower temperature was advantageous or simply as a cooling agent.  Suzuki formalized the use as their RAS (Ram Air System), fitted to the GT380 Sebring (1972-1980) and GT550 Indy (1972-1977) as well as (off and on) several versions of the smaller, two-cylinder models.  It wasn’t used on the water-cooled GT750 Le Mans (1972-1977) because the radiator acted to impede the airflow to the engine.  The GT380, GT550 and GT750 were two-stroke triples noted for an unusual 3-into-4 exhaust system in which the central header-pipe was bifurcated, thus permitting four tail-pipes.  There was no justification in engineering for this (indeed it added cost and weight) and it existed purely for visual effect, allowing an emulation of the look on the four-cylinder Hondas and Kawasakis.  Ironically, despite the additional metal, the asymmetric 3-into-3 system on the Kawasaki triples (1969-1976) is better remembered although the charismatic (if sometimes lethal) qualities of the machines may be a factor in that; exhaust systems do exert a powerful fascination for motor-cyclists.  The RAS was nothing more than a cast aluminum shroud fixed atop the cylinder head to direct air-flow, enhancing upper cylinder cooling and while tests in the 1960s confirmed the effectiveness of “force feeding” cooler air directly into induction systems but whether Suzuki's RAS delivered more efficient cooling isn’t clear.  When the twin-cylinder GT250 Hustler (1971-1981 and thus pre-dating the pornography magazine Hustler, first published in 1974) was revised in 1976, the RAS was deleted and replaced by conventional fins without apparent ill-effect but the RAS was light, cheap to produce, maintenance-free and looked sexy so even if the thermal effects were margins, some advantages were certainly there.  Interestingly, the companion GT185 (1973-1978) retained the RAS for the model’s entire production.

Big and small-block Chevrolet V8s: the Rat and the Mouse

Small and big-block Chevrolet V8s compared, the small-block (mouse) to the left in each image, the big-block (rat) to the right.

Mouse and rat are informal terms used respectively to refer to the classic small (1955-2003) and big-block Chevrolet V8s (1958-2021).  The small-block was first named after a rodent although the origin is contested; either it was (1) an allusion to “mighty mouse” a popular cartoon character of the 1950s, the idea being the relatively small engine being able to out-perform many bigger units from other manufacturers or (2) an allusion to the big, heavy Chrysler Hemi V8s (the first generation (Firepower) 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre), 354 (5.8) & 392 (6.4) versions) being known as “the elephant”, the idea based on the widely held belief elephants are scared of mice (which may actually be true although the reason appears not to be the long repeated myth it’s because they fear the little rodents might climb up their trunk).  Zoologically, "bee" might have been a better choice; elephants definitely are scared of bees.  The mouse (small-block) and rat (big-block) distinction is simple to understand: the big block is externally larger although, counterintuitively, the internal displacement of some mouse motors was greater than some rats.  

1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 396 (with 402 cid V8).

Whether that seeming anomaly (actually common throughout the industry during the big-block era) amused or disturbed the decision-makers at Chevrolet isn't known but in 1970 when the small block 400 (6.6) was introduced, simultaneously the big-block 396 (6.5) was enlarged to 402 (6.6) but the corporation then muddied the waters by continuing to call the 402 a "Turbo-Jet 396" when fitted to the intermediate class Chevelle, the rationale presumably that "SS 396" had such strong "brand recognition".  Available since 1965, by 1969 the SS 396 Chevelle was finally out-selling the Pontiac GTO (which in 1964 had seeded the muscle car movement) so the attachment was understandable.  Further to confuse people, the 400 was advertised as the "Turbo-Fire 400" while if fitted to the full-size line, the 402 was called the "Turbo-Jet 400".  Presumably, the assumption was anyone understanding the 400 & 402 ecosystems would buy the one they wanted while those not in the know would neither notice nor care.  Nor was the deviation in displacement between what was on the badge and what lay beneath the hood (bonnet) exclusive to Chevrolet, there being a long list of things not quite what was on the label although the true specifications usually were listed in the documentation and even the advertising.  The variations occurred for a number of reasons but rarely was there an attempt to deceive, even if sometimes things were left unstated or relegated to the small print.

In the matter of the “427 Cobra” that was really a “428”

That’s not to say there were no disputes about the difference between what was “in the tin” compared with what was “on the tin”.  In June 1969, a certain Mr Karl Francis “Fritz” Schiffmayer (1935-2010) of Lake Zurich, Illinois, wrote to Ford’s customer relations department complaining about the “427 Ford Cobra” he had purchased (as a new car) from a Chicago “Ford Dealer”.  What disappointed Mr Shiffmayer was the performance which didn’t match the widely publicized numbers achieved by many testers and, perhaps more to the point, he found his “$8500 Super Ford could barely keep up with” various $5000 Chevrolets.  For a Ford driver, few things could be more depressing.  Upon investigation, he discovered that despite “‘427’ signs all over the engine and the front fenders”, his car was not “a ‘427’ as advertised and labelled but a ‘428’”.  Both V8s were around seven litres but were in many ways not comparable.

Mr Shiffmayer's letter to Ford, 23 June 1969.

Notionally, Mr Shiffmayer got more than he paid for (ie 428 v 427 is nominally an extra cubic inch) and had he bought a dozen (12) bread rolls from the bakery and been supplied a “baker’s dozen” (13) there’d have been no grounds for complaint because bread rolls are a “fungible” (ie functionally identical) so getting 13 is always better than getting 12 at the same price.  However, the 427 and 428 engines, although from the same FE (Ford-Edsel) family and externally similar (until closely inspected), were very different internally with the former notably more oversquare (ie big-bore) and fitted with cross-bolted main bearings; additionally, the 427s used in the Cobras featured “side-oiling”, a more extensive system of lubrication which afforded priority deliver of oil to the bottom-end, making the engine more robust and better suited to the extreme demands of competition.  By contrast, the a Cobra’s 428 was a modified version of the “Police Interceptor 428”, a high-output edition of a powerplant usually found in Ford’s full-sized line including luxury cars and station wagons where it’s smoothness and effortless low-speed torque was appreciated.  The “Police Interceptor” specification was literally that: the engine used by law enforcement in highway patrol vehicles and for street use, it offered a useful lift in performance but it was not suitable for racetracks.  Later, Ford would “mix & match” the 427 & 428 to create the 428 Cobra Jet, the 427’s heads, intake manifold and some other “bolt-on” bits & pieces creating a combination of power and torque close to ideal for ¼ mile (402 m) runs down drag strips although even then Ford cheated, under-rating the output so the cars would be placed in a different category.  That year, in drag racing, the 428 Cobra Jet Mustangs dominated their class which prompted the sanctioning body to change the rules, imposing their own nominal output ratings rather than accepting those of the manufacturer.  Still, even the Cobra Jet 428 remained suitable only for street and strip because ¼ mile runs were done in a straight line and, without the cross-bolting and enhanced lubrication, it wouldn’t have matched the 427’s ability to endure the extreme lateral forces encountered on high-speed circuits.

AC Shelby Cobra CSX3209 after 427 transplant.

That “427 Cobras” with 428 engines even existed was a product of circumstances rather than planning.  Although now million dollar collectables, it’s sometimes forgotten the 427 Cobra was a commercial failure and that meant production numbers never reached the levels required for homologation to be granted for competition in the category for which it was intended so as well as not selling as well as the small block predecessors on which the model’s reputation was built, nor did the seven litre version ever match its success on the track.  When it came time to build the second batch of 100 427 Cobras, the engine was in short supply because the intricacies in construction, coupled with the wider bore being at the limit the block would accommodate (at the foundry, with a slight shifting of the casting cores, a 427 block would have to be scrapped), it was expensive to produce and inconvenient for Ford to schedule in the small batches the sales supported.  The cheap, mass-produced 428 Police Interceptor was both readily available and half the cost so it was an attractive alternative for Shelby and that it bolted straight without needing any changes made it more desirable still; thus 428-powered “427s”.  For the final run of 48, Shelby procured from Ford genuine 427 side-oilers so the 100 428s were a minority of the big-blocks used and many have since been converted (“rectified” some prefer to say) with the substitution of a 427.  Interestingly, four of the 428s were fitted with automatic transmissions which actually made them more suitable for street use but nobody seems subsequently have done this as a modification.

Shelby American's reply to Mr Shiffmayer, 21 July 1969.

As it was, As it was, Mr Shiffmayer decided to persevere and kept Shelby Cobra CSX3209 until he died, in the 1970s replacing the 428 with a specially built “tunnel port” (a trick with the pushrods to optimize the fluid dynamics of the fuel-air flow) 427.  Whether he was impressed with the reply (Ford referred his letter to Shelby American) he received in response to his complaint isn’t known but it’s an interesting document for a number of reasons:

(1) “…during the five year existence of the Cobra, three engines were used, the 289, the 427 and the 428.  Actually, the first 75 used the 260.

(2) “Only a very few of the 959 Cobras built contained the 427 engine.  Actually of the 998 built (in fairness this wasn’t in 1969 the agreed “final count” but it’s hard to understand how 959 was calculated) more than 150 had the 427 and whether this constitutes “very few” is debatable but it’s also not relevant to the complaint.

(3) “The 427 is a nomenclature such as the GT-500 is for the Shelby car.  It does not relate to the cubic displacement of the engine.  We are sorry that this misunderstanding occurred.  Actually, when the Cobra 427 was released, “427” was a direct reference to displacement.  The “GT500” label was never likely to cause a “misunderstanding” because (1) there was no Ford 500 cid engine and (2) the GT500 was always advertised as being equipped with the 428.

Indisputably what it says on the tin (aluminum): 1966 Shelby 427 S/C Cobra (CSX 3040).  In 2018, it sold at auction for US$2,947,500.

So, the letter from Shelby really wasn’t a great deal of help (it was dated the day after man set foot on the moon so perhaps the writer's attention was divided).  Were such a case now to go to court several matters would need to be considered:

Was it notorious (ie widely known; common knowledge) in the circles of potential purchasers of such a car that some were powered by 427s and some by 428s and the differences between the two were well documented?  According to some sources, it was only after the “428 Cobra matter” began to attract comment that sales literature was updated to reflect the changed specification while others maintain publication was concurrent with production.

Was the fact the car had only “427” badges an indication of which engine was fitted or just a “model name” al la the Shelby GT500 (which used a 428) & GT350 (which used either a 289 or 302 (and later a 351))?  That originally (in 1965) “427” was a reference to the 427 engine seem incontestable but the question would be whether this changed to a mere “model name” when the 428 was adopted.  It would seem the evidential onus of proof of that would rest with Shelby American.

When making the decision to purchase, did the buyer rely on representations from an authority (in this case a “Ford dealer”) which might reasonably have been expected to (1) possess and (2) communicate all relevant facts?  In that matter, the court would need to consider whether, in the circumstances, there is any substantive difference between a “Ford dealer” and a “Shelby franchised dealer”.  This would be decided by (1) any competing claims from the parties and (2) what documents were supplied prior to or at the point of purchase.

Is it relevant that in 1966-1967 when Ford offered both the 427 & 428 in the Galaxie, that car was sold as the “7 Litre” (they really did use the French spelling) irrespective of which seven litre (427 or 428) V8 was fitted?  Given that, should the Cobra have been thus labelled and was the continued use of the 427 badge a misrepresentation in 428-powered cars?

Was the dealer aware of the buyer’s background?  Mr Shiffmayer was (1) an engineer with a degree in mechanical engineering from the University of Wisconsin and (2) he was not only an owner of a 289 Shelby Cobra but also raced it with notable success.  If the dealer was aware of those facts that doesn’t absolve them of a responsibility fully to disclose all relevant information but a court could consider it a mitigating factor.  If the dealer was aware those facts, what would then have to be considered is whether it would have been reasonable for it to be assumed the buyer either knew of the mechanical details or could reasonably have been expected to know.

Evidence: Shelby American "Shelby Cobra 427" spec sheet listing the 428 as the engine, thereby suggesting "427" was a model name rather than a reference to a specific engine.  The significance of this document rests on whether it appeared before or after Shelby American began selling 428 powered Cobras.   

Tuesday, September 10, 2024

Parcopresis

Parcopresis (pronounced par-kop-ruh-sys)

In mental health, a spectrum condition ranging from a marked reluctance (with associated symptoms of psychological distress) to a physical inability to defecate in situations where others will be aware of the activity.

2010s: The word was modelled on paruresis (the inability to urinate in the presence (even if visually segregated) of others), the construct being par(a)- (abnormal, defective) +‎ uresis (urination).  Parcopresis was built by substituting copro- (relating to excrement or dung), from the Ancient Greek κόπρος (kópros) (excrement) for uro- (urine; relating to urine and the urinary system), from the Ancient Greek οὖρον (oûron).  Parcopresis is a noun.  As a class, medical conditions are an exception to the conventions of the English language governing the construction of a noun plural or adjective.  There is no recognized noun plural for parcopresis because medical conditions tend to be referred to in the singular (in the way neither “diabetes” or “arthritis” has a companion noun plural) so the usual practice would be to use phrases like “cases of parcopresis” or “patients with parcopresis”.  Less controversial would be an adjectival form which, following the conventions of English, presumably would be constructed as parcopretic or parcopresic (modelled on the way “psychosis” becomes “psychotic”).  There seems however no evidence of such use and the practice by clinicians remains to use phrases like “patient(s) suffering from parcopresis” or “patient(s) experiencing parcopresis-related symptoms”.  If the condition becomes more studied and more work is published, there may be inguistic innovation.

The word has in the last decade appeared with greater frequency, use triggered apparently by an appearance in 2011 when a case report on paruresis and parcopresis was published in the Revista Brasileira de Psiquiatria (the Brazilian Journal of Psychiatry), describing parcopresis as a psychogenic condition, sometimes related to social anxiety (though distinct from the better known paruresis).  However, despite that (slight) spike which presumably is indicative of some increase in interest in psychological circles, parcopresis has not yet been classified in major diagnostic systems like the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) or the World Health Organization’s (WHO) International Classification of Diseases (ICD)) although other sources (including the National Phobics Society) do list it as a sub-type of Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD).  By contrast, the urinary counterpart (paruresis) appears in the DSM-5-TR (2022), classified as a social phobia.

In clinical use, parcopresis is known also as psychogenic fecal retention (PFR) or (more conveniently and following the clinical shorthand of paruresis being called “shy bladder”) there’s also “shy bowel” and the even better “poop shy”, defined as “the inability to defecate without a certain level of privacy (and the extent of that level varies between patients)).  It manifests thus as something ranging from a “reluctance or difficulty” associated with the symptoms of significant psychological distress (diaphoresis (excessive perspiration), tachypnoea (hyperventilation), heart palpitations, muscle tension, blushing, nausea & trembling) to actual physical inability.  Although the sample sizes are small, there are instances both of a co-morbidity with paruresis and as a stand-alone condition.  The well-understood reluctance to use public toilets related to their notoriously less than immaculate cleanliness is not an instance of parcopresis; it’s just a product of the fastidiousness in matters of hygiene which civilization has bred into populations enjoying the fruits of modernity and again, this exists on a spectrum (and, impressionistically, women exhibit higher standards than men).  Instead, the triggers for the condition are listed usually as “SSS” (sights, sounds, smells) but this refers not to the revulsion the putative pooper may feel but the fear that others may (1) be in their proximity and thus know what they’re doing, (1) hear them doing it and (3) get a whiff of the aftermath.

While toilets in shared spaces can, for some,  induce parcopresis, for others, in certain circumstances, they can provide a place of sanctuary: Lindsay Lohan in Mean Girls (2004).

Parcopresis is not (yet) a medically recognized condition although the 2011 paper in the Brazilian Journal of Psychiatry did suggest it should be classified as a form of social phobia and historically there’s no requirement a syndrome being widespread to justify a classification: it needs just to have defined parameters.  The extent of the prevalence is thus less relevant than its existence although for the editors of the DSM or ICD to consider an entry would presumably be contingent upon a certain clinical utility, something which wouldn’t seem to preclude listing it among the social phobias.  As far as is known, the only studies exploring the prevalence of the condition have been those with small sample sizes conducted among university students and while obviously not representative of the broader population, all were gender-adjusted and reported between 10-20% of the study population avoided using public toilets for reasons in some way associated with parcopresis, a prevalence significantly higher in females.  By contrast, the more extensively studied paruresis is reported at a level between 2.8-16.4% of the population and is much more prevalent in males (75–92%) than females (8.1–44.6%), the usually explanation being MPSAD (male penis size anxiety disorder).

Clinicians note that although parcopresis is nominally a mental health condition, there can also be physical implications including “stools becoming lodged in the colon and the onset or exacerbation of haemorrhoids (piles).”  There’s thought to be limited scope for drug treatments beyond what anyway may be prescribed in cases of SAD or related conditions and most clinicians recommended approaches such as hypnotherapy, stress management, relaxation training and CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy), the latter usually in the form of graduated exposure therapy (GGT or systematic desensitization).  The CBT approach is well-documented and begins by suggesting patients be reminded “that everyone poops”.  That may not be true because in 2007, the KCNA (Korean Central News Agency, the DPRK’s (North Korea) energetic and productive state media) published a profile of Kim Jong-il (Kim II, 1941–2011; Dear Leader of DPRK (North Korea), 1994-2011) noting the physiology of the Dear Leader was so remarkable he was not subject to bowel movements, never needing to defecate or urinate.  It’s not known if this is a genetic characteristic of the dynasty and thus inherited by Kim Jong-un (Kim III, b circa 1982; Supreme Leader (originally The Great Successor) of DPRK since 2011) but this seems unlikely because the Supreme Leader is known, while on visits to remote locations within the DPRK (ballistic missile tests etc), to be accompanied by a military detail with a portable toilet for his exclusive (and reportedly not infrequent) use.

Doing The Daily Duty (by Cristina “Krydy” Guggeri); clockwise from top left: Vladimir Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999), Silvio Berlusconi (1936-2023; prime minister of Italy 1994-1995, 2001-2006 & 2008-2011), Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017), Kim Jong-un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011), Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) and Benjamin Netanyahu (b 1949; Israeli prime minister 1996-1999, 2009-2021 and since 2022).

Digital artist Cristina “Krydy” Guggeri in 2015 had a viral hit with her depictions of famous (and infamous) world leaders sitting on toilets.  Her “political pooping” project which she called “The Daily Duty” might be of help to those undergoing CBT for parcopresis, one of the recommended techniques being to “visualise a famous person they admire” in such circumstances.  Although not a clinical recommendation, presumably those suffering constipation could adopt the same therapy by visualizing a politician who “gives them the shits”.  That list might be long.

Still, the DPRK’s late and lamented Dear Leader aside, “almost everybody poops” and one intriguing recommendation for a CBT session is for a patient to visualise some famous person they particularly admire, sitting on the toilet, mid-poop.  Different patients obviously will admire a variety of celebrities so it’s a wholly subjective call although, noting the pop-culture zeitgeist, the most common current illustrative recommendation seems to be summon an image of the singer Taylor Swift (b 1989), an honor on which Ms Swift seems not to have commented.  Other practical tips include (1) carry a small air purifier or sanitizing spray to use in a public facility; depending on one’s diet and physiology, it will be necessary variously to spray pre-poop, mid-poop or post-poop, (2) line the inside of the toilet bowl with toilet paper; this will help absorb some of the sound and (3) flush several times while pooping; this will disguise the sound and reduce the smell (in Japan, this has been integrated into some public facilities by having a piped-music system play “waterfall sounds” at sufficient volume to disguise the activity of all but the most enthusiastic poopers).  Water management and conservation is now a matter of sometimes critical importance in cities so the piped sounds of splashing might become more common, the authorities unlikely much to welcome suggestions folk adopt the “multi-flush” strategy.

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Waterfall

Waterfall (pronounced waw-ter-fawl or wot-er-fawl)

(1) A steep fall or flow of water in a watercourse from a height, as over a precipice; a cascade of falling water where there is a vertical or almost vertical step in a river.

(2) A hair-style using long, loose “waves”.

(3) As “waterfall development”, “waterfall management” and “the waterfall model”, descriptions of product research & development (R&D) (especially in tech) including sequential stages, from conception and design through testing and implementation, hopefully to result in a final delivered product.

(4) Figuratively, any waterfall-like outpouring of liquid, smoke etc.

(5) In slang (originally US but now widespread), the action of drinking from a vessel without touching it with the lips (a sanitary precaution with shared vessels).

(5) In the smoking of weed, a particular design of bong.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English waterfal & waterfalle, from the Old English wæterġefeall (waterfall) and cognate with the Old Norse vatnfall, the West Frisian wetterfal (waterfall), the Dutch waterval (waterfall), the German Wasserfall (waterfall) and the Swedish vattenfall (waterfall).  The colloquial use to describe (1) a necktie, (2) a cravat, (3) a chignon (in hair-styling, a low bun or knot positioned at or close to the nape of the neck) or (4) a beard are now effectively extinct.  Waterfall’s synonyms in general use (though hydrologists are more precise) include cascade, cataract, sault (old Canadian slang more often used of river rapids) and the clipping falls.  Waterfall is a noun verb & adjective and waterfalling & waterfalled are verbs; the noun plural is waterfalls.

The construct was water + fall and the Modern English spelling appears to have been a re-formation from around the turn of the sixteenth century.  The noun “water” was from the Old English wæter (water), from the Proto-West Germanic watar, from the Proto-Germanic watōr (water), from the primitive Indo-European wódr̥ (water).  The verb “water” was from the Middle English wateren, from the Old English wæterian, from the Proto-Germanic watrōną & watrijaną, from the Proto-Germanic watōr (water), from the primitive Indo-European wódr̥ (water).  The noun “fall” was from the Middle English fal, fall & falle, from the Old English feall & ġefeall (a falling, fall) and the Old English fealle (trap, snare), from the Proto-Germanic fallą & fallaz (a fall, trap).  It was cognate with the Dutch val, the German Fall (fall) & Falle (trap, snare), the Danish fald, the Swedish fall and the Icelandic fall.  The verb “fall” was from the Middle English fallen, from the Old English feallan (to fall, fail, decay, die, attack), from the Proto-West Germanic fallan (to fall), from the Proto-Germanic fallaną (to fall).  It was cognate with the West Frisian falle (to fall), the Low German fallen (to fall), the Dutch vallen (to fall), the German fallen (to fall), the Danish falde (to fall), the Norwegian Bokmål falle (to fall), the Norwegian Nynorsk falla (to fall), the Icelandic falla (to fall), the Albanian fal (forgive, pray, salute, greet) and the Lithuanian pùlti (to attack, rush).

Two views of Niagara Falls:  Between June-November 1969 (left), a temporary dam was built to stem the usual flow so geological studies could be conducted to ascertain the condition of the rocks and assess the extent of erosion.  After rectification work was carried out, the temporary structure was dynamited, an event promoted as a tourist attraction.  In 1885 (right), the falls underwent one of its occasional freezes.  Usually, these are what hydrologists call "partial freezes" (of late there have been a few: 2014, 2017 & 2019), the only (almost) "total freeze" recorded in 1848 although that was induced by the accumulation of ice on Lake Erie which caused a "natural dam" to form, stopping the flow of water to the Niagara River.  It was this rather than a "total freeze" of the falls which caused the phenomenon.

Lindsay Lohan with waterfall, Guanacaste Gold Coast, Costa Rica, January 2016.

For most of us, we know a waterfall when we see one: it’s a point in a waterway (usually a river) where the water falls over a steep drop that is close to literally vertical.  However, among hydrologists, there’s no agreed definition about the margins such as when something ceases to rapids and becomes a waterfall, some insisting that what lay-people casually call “waterfalls” are really “cataracts” or “cascades”.  To most of us there to admire the view, it’s a tiresome technical squabble among specialists but among themselves they seem happy for the debate to continue and some have even suggested precise metrics which can be mapped onto any formation.

Wasserfall (Waterfall), the embryonic SAM

Wasserfall (project Waterfall) was an early SAM (surface to air missile) developed by the Nazi armaments industry.  Although never used, it was highly influential in the post-war years.  In his memoirs (Inside the Third Reich (1969)), Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) discussed both the weapons systems with which he as minister was usually in some way connected and the political in-fighting and inter-service rivalries which hampered their development.  Although his writings are not wholly reliable (there was much he choose not to say on his contribution to anti-Jewish measures and his knowledge of the holocaust), on industrial and technical matters historians regard his account as substantially accurate (if incomplete).  Interestingly, after reading in Spandau prison a smuggled copy of the memoir (Ten Years and Twenty Days (1958)) of Karl Dönitz (1891–1980; as Grand Admiral head of the German Navy 1943-1945, German head of state 1945) who had been a fellow prisoner for the first decade of Speer’s twenty-year sentence, without any sense of irony, he remarked in his (extensively edited) prison journal (Spandau: The Secret Diaries (1975)):

Where he discusses military operations and the questions of armaments, the book is interesting and probably also reliable.  His political attitude, on the other hand, his relationship to Hitler, his childish faith in National Socialism – all that he either wraps in silence or spins a veil of sailor’s yarns.  This is the book of a man without insight.

Speer re-invented himself by wrapping in veils of silence anything too unpleasant to admit and spun plenty of veils so appealing that for decades there were many who, for various reasons, draped them over his past.  He wasn’t a man without insight but compared with Dönitz, he had much more guilt to conceal and thus more need of selective silence & spin.

Speer regarded the regime’s failure to devote the necessary resources to the Wasserfall project as one of Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945)  many strategic blunders which, by 1943, had made defeat inevitable.  Having delayed development of the revolutionary Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter (deployed at scale mass it would have been a devastating weapon against the Allied bomber fleets then laying waste to German cities and industry), Hitler took the decision to afford the highest priority to the A4 (better known as the V2) rocket to retaliate against English cities; psychologically, Hitler always wanted to be on the offensive and would later appal the experts by demanding the Me 262 be re-designed as a fast, light bomber.  As a delivery system the V2 was a decade ahead of its time and there was then no defense against the thing but it was a hugely expensive and resource-intensive way to deliver an explosive load under a tonne.  As Speer noted, even if it became possible to produce and fire the projected 900 a month, that would mean a daily bomb-load of some 24 tonnes falling on England and that at a time when the Allied bomber groups were on average dropping some 3000 tonnes a day on German targets.  Hitler wasn’t wrong in predicting the use of the V2 against civilian targets would have an effect well beyond the measure of the tonnage delivered and the historians who claimed the disruption to the allied war effort caused by the V1 (an early cruise missile) & V2 was “negligible” were simply wrong but to have been an effective strategic weapon, at least hundreds of V2s a day would need to have found their targets.

Captured blueprints and photographs from the Wasserfall project's development. 

Speer admitted he “not only went along with this decision on Hitler's part but also supported it. That was probably one of my most serious mistakes.  We would have done much better to focus our efforts on manufacturing a ground-to-air defensive rocket.  It had already been developed in 1942, under the code name Wasserfall (Waterfall), to such a point that mass production would soon have been possible, had we utilized the talents of those technicians and scientists busy with [the V2] under Wernher von Braun (1912–1977).

He added that von Braun’s team was employed to develop weapons “for the army, whereas air defense was a matter for the air force.  Given the conflict of interests and the fierce ambitions of the army and the air force, the army would never have allowed its rival to take over the installations it had built up…  The difference in resource allocation was stark, more than ten times the number of technical staff working on the V2 compared to Waterfall and other anti-aircraft rocket projects (such as the small Taifun (Typhoon)).  The attraction of the anti-aircraft rockets was obvious as Speer noted: “Waterfall was capable of carrying approximately six hundred and sixty pounds of explosives along a directional beam up to an altitude of fifty thousand feet and hit enemy bombers with great accuracy.  It was not affected by day or night, by clouds, cold, or fog. Since we were later able to turn out nine hundred of the offensive big rockets monthly, we could surely have produced several thousand of these smaller and less expensive rockets per month. To this day I think that this rocket, in conjunction with the jet fighters, would have beaten back the Western Allies' air offensive against our industry from the spring of 1944 on.  Instead, gigantic effort and expense went into developing and manufacturing long-range rockets which proved to be, when they were at last ready for use in the autumn of 1944, an almost total failure [a comment which, combined with Allied propaganda and disinformation, influenced for decades many post-war historians].  Our most expensive project was also our most foolish one. Those rockets, which were our pride and for a time my favorite armaments project, proved to be nothing but a mistaken investment. On top of that, they were one of the reasons we lost the defensive war in the air.

Whether a mass-produced Waterfall would have been an effective weapon against the mass-bomber formations has divided analysts.  While the technology to produce a reliable directional mechanism had been mastered, what Germany never possessed was a proximity fuse which would have enabled the explosive charge to be triggered when a bomber was within range; instead the devices relied on impact or pre-set detonators.  Presumably, had other projects been suspended and the resources re-directed to Waterfall, mass production may have been possible and even if only partially successful, to disrupt a bombing offensive it was necessary only to inflict an ongoing 5-10% loss rate to make the campaign unsustainable.  Given the inevitable counter-measures, even that would likely have proved challenging but economic reality meant Waterfall probably did offer a more attractive path than the spectacular V2 and given the success in related fields, it was not impossible that had priority been granted, proximity fuses and other technical improvements may rapidly have appeared.  As it was, Waterfall (like Typhoon, Me 262, V2 and an extraordinary range of other intriguing projects) was the subject of a post-war race between the Russians, the Americans and the British, all anxious to gather up the plans, prototypes, and personnel of what were clearly the next generation of weapons.  As a proof of concept exercise Waterfall was convincing and within years SAMs were a vital component of defensive systems in most militaries.

The waterfall motif: Grill on the 1975 Imperial LeBaron Crown Coupe (left) and the Liebian International Building in China (right).

In design, "waterfall" can be a motif such as used for the grill on the 1975 Imperial LeBaron Crown Coupe.  It can also be literal and architects have many times integrated water-flows as an external design element but at 108 metres (354 feet) high, the one on the façade of the Liebian International Building in south-west China is easily the world’s tallest.  An eye-catching sight, the waterfall isn't run all that often (which must disappoint influencers who turn up with cameras ready) because it’s said to cost some 900 yuan (US$125) per hour just to pump the water to the top and, with the downturn in the property market, the building's revenues have fallen short of expectation.  When completed and displayed in 2016, the waterfall attracted some criticism on environmental grounds, water shortages far from unknown in China although the builders (Ludi Industry Group) pointed out the signature feature uses storm-water runoff, rainwater and groundwater, all stored in vast underground tanks.  It may for a while be the last example of exuberance to show up among China's skyscrapers, Xi Jinping (b 1953; general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and paramount leader of the People's Republic of China (PRC) since 2013) in 2014 calling for an end to what he called "weird architecture".  Mr Xi thinks buildings should be "suitable, economic, green and pleasing to the eye" rather than "oversized, xenocentric & weird".  Those skilled at reading between the CCP's lines decided the president had called the architects "formalists".  They would have taken note.

On TikTok, a small but active community of those who find waterfalls mesmerizing post video clips.