Orphan

Orphan (pronounced awr-fuhn)

(1) A person who has lost one or both parents through death (now usually used only if both parents have died); term is used only with children or older minors and in informal use is sometimes extended to an abandoned child.

(2) A young animal left motherless by death or desertion.

(3) Figuratively, a person or thing without protective affiliation, sponsorship, etc.

(4) In typography (applied especially in word processing) the first line of a paragraph when it appears alone at the bottom of a page.

(5) Figuratively, something not (or no longer) authorized, supported, or funded; not part of a system; isolated; abandoned.

(6) In computing, any unreferenced object or a process, the parent of which has terminated.

(7) In medicine, as orphan disease (a rare disease) or orphan drug (something developed under the US Orphan Drug Act (1983) for orphan diseases.

(8) In biochemistry, as orphan receptor, apparent receptor that has a similar structure to other identified receptors but whose endogenous ligand has not yet been identified.

(9) In nuclear physics, as orphan source, a self-contained radioactive source that is no longer under proper regulatory control.

(10) In the automotive industry, cars still in use built by a manufacturer which has entirely ceased operations (applied informally also to vehicles produced to defunct divisions of parent corporations (eg Imperial, Pontiac).

(11) In the matter of technology, literature and other copyrighted material, something abandoned by its owner or where the copyright holder is untraceable; in reference to software the slang term is “abandonware”.

1425–1475: The noun was from the late Middle English, from the Late Latin orphanus (destitute, without parents), from orbus (bereaved), from the Ancient Greek ὀρφανός (orphanós) (without parents, fatherless; bereaved (literally “deprived”)), from orphos (bereft), from the primitive Indo-European orbho (bereft of father (also "deprived of free status”), from the root orbh- (to change allegiance, to pass from one status to another), source also of the Hittite harb- (change allegiance), the Sanskrit arbhah (weak, child), the Armenian orb (orphan), the Old Irish orbe (heir), the Old Church Slavonic rabu (slave), the rabota (servitude ( and related to the modern robot), the Gothic arbja, the German erbe, the Old English ierfa (heir), the Old High German arabeit, the German Arbeit (work), the Old Frisian arbed and the Old English earfoð (hardship, suffering, trouble")..  It was cognate with the Sanskrit अर्भ (árbha), the Latin orbus, (bereaved), the Old High German erbi, & arbi (hence the German Erbe (heir)) and the Old English ierfa (heir).  The Late Latin orphanós was the source also of the Old French orfeno & orphenin and the Italian orfano.  The extinct alternative spelling was orphane and the plural is orphans.

The verb use (to reduce to the state of being an orphan) dates from circa 1814.  It was used as an adjective from the late fifteenth century, the figurative use emerging at the same time.  The syndicated newspaper cartoon strip Little Orphan Annie (1924-2010) created by Harold Gray (1894-1968) was originally titled Little Orphant Annie after the title of James Whitcomb Riley's (1849-1916) 1885 poem Little Orphant Allie (though it was originally titled The Elf Child, the name was changed by Riley for the third printing; it was a typesetting error which substituted “orphan” for “orphant”. Orphant was an old, corrupt form of orphan, attested from the seventeenth century.

The noun orphanage dates from the 1570s and originally meant “the condition of being an orphan", the more familiar modern meaning "a home for orphans" not used until 1850.  Other words for "the condition of being an orphan" have included orphanhood (1670s), orphancy (1580s), orphanism (1590s) & orphanship (1670s) and in Middle English there was the mid-fifteenth century orphanite (desolation, wretchedness).  The early forms to describe the building in which orphans were housed were orphan house (1711), orphan-asylum (1796) & orphanry (1872).  Orphanage prevailed over the others for no good etymological reason (some critics noting homes for girls weren’t called “girlages”) but despite there being a risk of confusion with the sixteenth century sense of “the condition of being an orphan", it was preferred and orphanhood came to be the standard form of description for the state despite the objection of pedants who insisted the English “-hood” should never be affixed to a Greek or Roman root; a long-lost battle even then.  The purists had more success in fighting off "Orphanotrophy" although the less objectionable "Orphanry" (as in “aviary”), although achieving the tick of approval from the lexicographers, seems never to have caught on, people presumably not attracted by the alignment of places for children being linguistically aligned with zoos.

In antiquity, an orphan was one who had lost both parents but in English use, by the seventeenth century, the status of orphanhood was afforded to a child who had lost either.  That lead to constructions which defined the differential state (half-orphan, double orphan, maternal orphan & paternal orphan and all the classifications were applied in a variety of ways, on both sides of the Atlantic, matters applying to children administered usually by local authorities so regional differences were common, some insisting the status of an orphan was created only upon the death of one or both parents while in other places desertion was sometimes sufficient.  The age at which one could, whatever the nature of the loss, cease to be regarded as an orphan was also inconsistent until the modern state evolved but the idea always was it ceased with adulthood but this tended sometimes to be a functional judgment based on prevailing social and economic conditions; it could be as young as fourteen at a time when workforce participation (male and female) was common.

The modern practice has long been an orphan is a minor who has lost both parents but UNICEF (the United Nations Children's Fund (originally the United Nations International Children's Emergency Fund but the name was changed in 1953, UNICEF retained as the name though no longer technically an acronym), UNAIDS (the Joint United Nations Programme on HIV and AIDS) and some NGOs (non-governmental organizations) label as an orphan any child who has lost one parent.  This is a practical approach which acknowledges the often severe consequences which follow from the loss of one parent.

The verse in the New Testament which imposes on all a duty to care for orphans is often quoted:

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress…" (James 1:27 (KJV 1611)).

Less often cited are the passages from the Old Testament in which it’s threatened the wrath of God will make orphans of the children of he who mistreats an orphan:

22 Ye shall not afflict any widow, or fatherless child.

23 If thou afflict them in any wise, and they cry at all unto me, I will surely hear their cry;

24 And my wrath shall wax hot, and I will kill you with the sword; and your wives shall be widows, and your children fatherless. (Exodus 22:22-24 (KJV 1611)).

The holy Qu'ran has a number of passages which make clear the duty of all to care for orphans and not take from them:

Give orphans their property, and do not substitute bad things for good. Do not assimilate their property into your own. Doing that is a serious crime.  (The Women: 2).

Keep a close check on orphans until they reach a marriageable age, then if you perceive that they have sound judgement hand over their property to them... (The Women: 6).

1932 Studebaker Dictator.  Studebaker used Dictator as a model name between 1927-1937 and there was not political connotation, the word in 1927 not having the associations it would later gain.  By 1937 things had changed and the name was dropped.

Studebaker had a long and storied history, its origin in a German blacksmithing business (1736-1750), the family moving to the US and beginning the production of carriages and carts in 1852, its first automobiles actually electric cars offered in 1902 before the sale of petrol-powered models in 1904.  The powered-range grew quickly and by 1919, Studebaker ceased production of horse-drawn carriages, a decision vindicated by its success in the 1920s.  Like many other concerns however, the Great Depression of the early 1930s mauled its business and Studebaker was forced to enter bankruptcy although a reorganization and a financial re-structuring arranged by the venerable Lehman Brothers permitted it soon to resume operating, the improving economic conditions of the mid-1930s ensuring ongoing profitability.

Studebaker US6 truck in Red Army use, configured as mobile Katyusha rocket launcher, circa 1943.

Like many US corporations, some of its golden years came during World War II when industrial capacity was given over to government contracts fulfilling military production.  A variety of materiel was produced but Studebaker’s most notable contribution to the war effort was the versatile US6 (G630 in the government purchasing system) 2½ (short) ton 6x6 trucks, over a hundred and fifty thousand of which were supplied to the Soviet Union under the Lend-Lease programme.  Built in many configurations, the most memorable adaptation by the Red Army was as a mobile platform for the BM-31-12 (nickname: Andryusha) Katyusha rocket launcher, known to the enemy as “Stalin’s organs” because of the the distinctive sound of the rockets; the Russian army is still using the concept in their invasion of Ukraine.  The US6 proved popular with the army which found it much superior to the locally-made ZIS-5 & GAZ-AA and better even than the captured German trucks with Maybach engines which (belying the German reputation for “good beer, good engines, good sausages"), were prone to overheating under extreme loads, unlike the Studebakers which never boiled.  The tale may be apocryphal but it’s claimed Comrade Stalin (1878–1953; leader of the USSR, 1922-1953) even wrote a letter of appreciation to Studebaker, mentioning how important the US6 had been to the Red Army.

1964 Studebaker Avanti R2.

Studebaker had ups and downs after the war but the long-term trend was down.  By the early 1960s the writing was on the wall but there was one last roll of the dice, a gamble that would be either the savior of the corporation or the final nail in the coffin.  Released in 1962, the Avanti straddled a spectrum of the market, seen mostly as what would come to be called a personal coupe, it was also the company’s halo car and, most unexpectedly, something of a pony car and muscle car before either segment really existed.  Offered in three versions: (1) the R1 with a 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) V8 rated at 240 horsepower, (2) the with R2 with a Paxton supercharger with gained 50 horsepower and, (3) the exotic 304 cubic inch (5.0 litre) R3 with 335 horsepower (only nine of which were built).  Performance was good, the Avanti at least competitive with the competition and to prove the slipperiness of the fibreglass body, styled by French-born, US-based designer Raymond Loewy (1893-1986), the company took an R3 to to the Bonneville Salt Flats, where it set 29 production car records, posting a top speed of almost 170 mph (273 km/h).

The Avanti’s appearance at the time was quite startling and the reception it received after being shown in New York in 1962 was generally positive but almost immediately the project encountered problems.  Because the car was expected to sell in relatively low volumes of around twenty-thousand a year and the body was rendered with complex curves, production in steel or aluminum was never considered, the panels instead molded in fibreglass, then still a more respectable material than it would later become.  Each Avanti however needed over one-hundred fiberglass components and the contractor experienced some difficulty in mass-producing them with the necessary tolerances, the ensuing delay meaning that in its first full year on sale, barely 1,200 reached customers, a disappointing debut for a car expected to rescue the corporation from impending bankruptcy.  Studebaker’s parlous finances were by now public knowledge and although things improved in 1963, buyers were scarce and fewer than 4,000 Avantis were sold, well below the volume at which it was economically viable.  The next year, the factory booked orders for fewer than a 1000 and, bowing to the inevitable, Studebaker announced the end of the Avanti and it turned out to be a harbinger, all their production ceasing in 1966, the corporation dissolved shortly afterwards.

At that point the Avanti should, like literally thousands of others, simply have died but unusually, it become an orphan, a model cast adrift by the death of the parent corporation.  The Avanti, which should have been Studebaker’s swansong, turned out to be a phoenix, the model attracting no fewer than five subsequent owners who, between 1965 and 2006, produced 3840 Avantis using a variety of drive-train combinations from the Detroit parts bin, some with convertible coachwork and even a handful of four-door sedans.  Even more a niche model than it had been under Studebaker’s parentage, in its best year as an orphan a mere 289 left the factory but for four decades (profitably and sometimes not) it was sustained by a small but devoted clientele and even today the survivors have an enthusiastic following, the most desirable of the early cars typically attracting over US$40,000 at auction.

The orphan Avanti production numbers, 1966-2006.

Pantechnicon

Pantechnicon (pronounced pan-tek-ni-kon or pan-tek-ni-kuhn)

(1) A building or place housing shops or stalls where all sorts of (especially exotic) manufactured articles are collected for sale; most associated with the Pantechnicon, a large warehouse where goods (delivered by Pantechnicon's vans) were stored.

(2) A large van, especially one designed for moving or furniture and other household goods; originally "pantechnicon van".

1820-1830: A creation of modern English using the Ancient Greek, the construct being pan-, from the Ancient Greek πᾰν- (pan-), a neuter form of πᾶς (pâs) (all, every) + τεχνικόν (tekhnikón) (artistic, skillful), neuter singular of τεχνικός (tekhnikós, “technical”), from tekhnē (art), from the primitive Indo-European tetḱ- (to create, produce).  The clippings pantech (UK) & pantech van (Australia) are now less common.  Pantechnicon is a noun; the noun plural is pantechnicons.

The Pantechnicon building, Motcomb Street, Belgrave Square, London.  It was built in what was then called the “Greek Revival” style, featuring a neo-classical facade using Doric columns.  It’s described now as a “contemporary fashion emporium” and includes the inevitable café, restaurant & bar.

A Pantechnicon van (almost always called a pantechnicon and, in certain places. “pantech” endures) was originally horse-drawn and used to transport furniture to and from The Pantechnicon, a bazaar in central London where objects were stored as well as sold.  The Pantechnicon building was built in the early 1830s, the name coined from the Ancient Greek to convey the idea of an institution which traded in all aspects of the arts.  That commercial use continued but the building and the eponymous vans became famous in the twentieth century after the premises were converted into furniture storage warehouse. The warehouse was burnt out in 1876 and suffered another severe blaze in 1939, the latter unfortunate timing as many people had stored there the household effects of grand London houses which were being shuttered for the duration of the war.

Although originally used exclusively to service clients of The Pantechnicon, the design of the vans, being functionally deterministic, was optimized for the task and soon adopted by all removalists, the name to describe the vans quickly becoming generic.  The design persisted when the vans were motorized; now built on truck chassis, they were now even more obviously slab-sided cuboids and the new technology permitted them to become very large.  In a city like London with some narrow lanes and tight corners, some of which dated from the Roman occupation, that presented problems of its own and some small, horse-drawn pantechnicons continued to ply their trade even after the Second World War.

1947 Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith "Pantechnicon" by Hooper.

Being functional work-horses designed for the maximization of internal space and the ease of loading, few commented on the aesthetics but when the same style was adopted in 1947 for a Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith commissioned by an exceedingly rich oil trader called Nubar Gulbenkian (1896-1972), many were aghast and the thing was soon nick-named the Pantechnicon.  Built by the coachbuilder Hooper, it didn’t start a trend for the design although, over the next decade, some details would appear in the cars of many manufacturers because of the contribution to aerodynamic efficiency.  Time has perhaps been kinder to Mr Gulbenkian’s pantechnicon than critics at the time, compared with some of what would be produced in the years that followed, Hooper’s lines had coherence and even a simplicity which, until their bankruptcy, would elude some coachbuilders and certainly, there are more hints of the future in the pantechnicon than most of the Silver Wraiths (1946-1958) which were usually pastiches of pre-war mofifs.

1956 Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith by Hooper.

Unmoved by the staid critics, Mr Gulbenkian continued to favor both the Wraith and Hooper though not their standard range.  While he didn’t again request anything pantechnicon-like, his tastes nevertheless remained eccentric, purchases including a four-door cabriolet (a rarity even then) and a sedanca de ville (a body style thought almost extinct), the latter fully-trimmed in sage-green lizard-skin.  Probably the most dramatic of Gulbenkian’s Hooper-bodied Rolls-Royces was a left-hand drive example built for use on the Côte d’Azur where he kept a house (and reputedly several mistresses); it had conventional four-door saloon coachwork but its novelty lay in its transparent Perspex roof, complete with an electrically-operated fabric inner blind to keep the occupants cool despite the Mediterranean sun.  Eschewing the usual acres of burl walnut which had been a Rolls-Royce signature since the earliest days, the interior was trimmed entirely in leather, a hallmark of all the Gulbenkian cars as was the speedometer fitted in the rear passenger compartment.  So distinctive was the appearance that after it was sold, it was used in the 1964 film Les Félins (released in English-language markets as The Love Cage) which starred Alain Delon (b 1935) and a young Jane Fonda (b 1937).

1966 Mercedes-Benz 600 SWB by Chapron.

Mr Gulbenkian must have been quite taken with the Perspex roof because in 1965, impressed by Mercedes-Benz’s extraordinary new 600 (W100; 1963-1981), he approached them and requested they build him one with such a roof.  Stuttgart declined.  Undeterred, in 1966 Mr Gulbenkian purchased one from the French distributer and had it delivered directly to Henri Chapron’s (1886-1978) coachbuilding studio in Paris to which he provided a specification sheet and what is said to have been a quite professional-looking sketch.  The build took almost a year because, better to enjoy the view through the transparent roof, Mr Gulbenkian fancied the idea of gazing at the stars at night so the rear seats were configured to recline into a bed.  The door panels were equipped with handheld mirrors and glass deflectors designed to minimalize the air turbulence in the cabin. Special tobacco pipe holders were fitted, as well as a minibar.  One piece of German engineering Chapron didn’t try to emulate was to extend the hydraulic control system to operate the roof blinds.  The 600 was unique in that it didn’t use electric motors for things like the windows, these along with the doors, seats, sunroof and trunk (boot) lid instead silently run by a hydraulic system, which ran at an extraordinary 2176 psi (150 bar), something which absorbed about a sixth of the power generated by the 386 cubic inch (6.3 litre) V8 although what remained was sufficient still to propel what was a big, heavy and not obviously aerodynamic car to almost 130 mph (210 km/h).  The 600 was anyway expensive but Chapron's work more than doubled the price.  Mr Gulbenkian who then owned some 5% of BP, didn't quibble.

419 Venice Way, Venice Beach, Los Angeles, 31 January 2012.

This is the pantechnicon Lindsay Lohan hired when moving from where she lived during 2011-2012 in a semi-mirrored construction (a style of architecture sometimes called “pigeon pair”) next door to former special friend Samantha Ronson who inhabited Number 417.  She moved out after being disturbed by "a Freemason stalker".  In North America, this pantechnicon would usually be called a "semi", a clipping of "semi-articulated trailer" and even in the UK the term "pantechnicon" is now less common, as is the Australian clipping "pantech van". 

Teflon

Teflon (pronounced tef-lon)

(1) The trademark for a fluorocarbon polymer with slippery, non-sticking properties; the (chemically correct) synonym is polytetrafluoroethylene.

(2) In casual use, facetiously to denote an ability to evade blame, applied usually to certain politicians, those characterized by imperviousness to criticism, often as “teflon president etc”.

1945: The proprietary name registered in the US by the du Pont corporation, from the chemical name (poly)te(tra)fl(uoroethylene) + the –on.  The use of the -on suffix in science is often described by etymologists as “arbitrary” and in the narrow technical sense the point is well made but there is history.  In physics it was applied on the model of the “on” element in electron, something lent linguistic respectability by the Ancient Greek -ον (-on), used to end neuter nouns and adjectives.  In chemistry, it followed the “on” in carbon, applied to form names of noble gases and certain non-metal elements (creating first boron and then silicon).  In physics, mathematics and biology, it was appended to form nouns denoting subatomic particles (proton), quanta (photon), molecular units (codon), or substances (interferon).  In biology and genetics, it was used to form names of things considered as basic or fundamental units (such as codon or recon).  The derived forms teflonish, tefleony etc are late twentieth century creations from critical political discourse.

Teflon was a serendipitous discovery which was delivered by research on refrigeration gases being undertaken by the Du Pont Company in 1938.  Some of the experiments being performed involved an analysis of the behavior of various compounds of Freon in cylinders and, observations indicated that while the gas appeared to disappear from the cylinders, weight measurements suggested it remained present and, upon inspection, what was found in the cylinders was a white, waxy substance of no use in the process of refrigeration.  The substance did however have remarkable properties, being friction-free (described as being like rubbing wet ice against wet ice) and impervious both almost all solvents and temperature variations between -273–250^o c (-169–121^o f).  Chemically the substance was a form of polytetrafluoroethylene, thankfully shortened to "Teflon" ((poly)te(tra)fl(uoroethylene)).  The significance of Teflon wasn’t initially understood and Du Pont’s major product release that year was anyway nylon, finally available as a commercial substance after thirteen years of development.

Teflon did however soon have an impact in one of the century’s most significant scientific and engineering projects, those attached to the Manhattan Project developing the atom bomb finding it the only coating which worked as seals for the canisters housing the most volatile elements.  However, because of the secrecy which enveloped the Manhattan Project, some aspects of which would not for many decades be declassified, Teflon didn’t enter the public consciousness until the late 1950s, the timing ensuring it came to be associated with the nascent space programme rather than the A-bomb, a perception the military-industrial complex did little to discourage.  Because of the state of the analytical tools then available, it had taken a long time fully to understand the stuff and it transpired the slipperiness came from a unique molecular structure, the core of carbon atoms being surrounded by fluorine atoms, creating a bond so strong that any other interaction was repelled, the chemical mix also accounting for the high degree of invulnerability to solvents and extremes in temperature.

The first extensive use was in electronics industry, first as insulation and corrosion protection for the copper wires and cables which carried the data for telephony and later computer networks but, as an example of the novel products it enabled, shatter-proof, Teflon-coated light bulbs went on sale but most far-reaching, revolutionary actually, was that it was Teflon which was used to hold the new and tiny semiconductor chips.  All those uses played a part in transforming the world but it was the simultaneous (and well-publicized) use in the Apollo Moon programme and the commercial release of the Teflon fry-pans which so cemented the association in public consciousness.  For some years, mystery shrouded how Du Pont managed to get the Teflon to stick to the aluminum or stainless steel with which fry-pans are made but, after the patents expired, it was revealed the classic trick was to sandblast the metal surfaces which left tiny indentations with irregular edges which worked like the clasps jewelers use to secure stones.  Once these tiny impressions were filled with Teflon, the final layer had something to which to adhere; Teflon attracting itself and repelling all else.  That was an wholly mechanical process but chemical processes were also developed to induce attachment to metal.

While some half a billion Teflon fry-pans were being sold, the slippery substance went on extensively to be used in architecture where its qualities of flame resistance and translucence were much appreciated and it proved uniquely suited to solving a problem which had for decades plagued engineers, the need for an insulator to prevent the corrosion endemic between the steel framework and copper skin of the Statue of Liberty.  Living structures also benefited, Teflon of great utility in the medical device industry because of its compatibility with living tissue, proving an ideal substance with which to construct artificial veins and arteries, heart patches and replacement ligaments although most inventive was probably the Teflon powder injections used to restore the function of vocal-cords.  Early in the twenty-first century, concerns were raised after the chemical perfluorooctanoic acid (PFOA), used in the production of Teflon, was found to be potentially carcinogenic.  The research didn’t produce direct evidence that it's harmful to humans but it was anyway replaced with a substitute, the wonderfully named GenX but this too has attracted concerns.

Teflon resistant: Although described by Representative Pam Schroeder (Democrat, Colorado) as “Teflonish”, one object did stick to Bill Clinton no matter what (and there was much "what").

The word Teflon is used also to refer to that small class of politicians to whom no blame, however well-deserved, seems to attach; whatever mud is slung, none of it ever sticks.  It seems first to have been used by Pat Schroeder (b 1940; Democrat Representative for Colorado in the House 1973-1997) who in a speech on the floor of the House in 1983 denouncing President Ronald Reagan (1911–2004; US president 1981-1989) said “He has been perfecting the Teflon-coated presidency: He sees to it that nothing sticks to him.”  Schroeder later said that the expression came to her while frying eggs in a Teflon fry-pan.  In a display of feminist bi-partisanship, she would in a later interview with CNN note that President Bill Clinton (b 1946; US president 1993-2001) was very “Teflonish” and the phrase has come to be used to describe the political phenomenon of the willingness in voters to excuse in some the shortcomings they wouldn’t accept in most.  The linguistic adaptation didn’t please Du Pont which greatly valued their trademark, issuing a press release insisting that when used in print, the media should always put the trademark symbol next to the word and that ”It is not, alas, a verb or an adjective, not even when applied to the President of the United States!”  Their demands were ignored and English proceeds along its inventive ways.  There is nothing to suggest Teflon sales ever suffered by association.

Lindsay Lohan in a yacht's galley, cooking with non-stick frypan, Cannes, May 2017.

Teflon is produced from a mix of certain chemicals which are part of a large family of substances called perfluoroalkyl & polyfluoroakyl (PFAS) and research has linked human exposure to a number of conditions including some cancers, reproductive issues, and elevated cholesterol levels.  Given that, on the basis of the experience of litigation and legislative response to other once common materials found to be at least potentially dangerous, it might be expected an intensive research effort has at least quantified the extent of the problem.  However, it transpired it’s effectively impossible to measure the risks of the use of PFAS in non-stick, simply because for decades the chemicals have been so ubiquitous in domestic environments because of their role providing water & stain-resistance in everything from raincoats, carpets and car upholstery.  That means PFAS chemicals have long since become part of the environment, detected everywhere from the seabed to mountain tops.  For the human and animal population, the presence in the water supply is of significance and in the US, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) in 2020 published guidelines for the acceptable level of certain PFAS in drinking water, a document which attracted great interest because it appears about the same time as a study which indicated a correlation between exposure and a disturbing “millions of deaths”.  Among the general population, it’s the cookware which came quickly to attract the most concern, not because there’s any evidence to suggest the stuff is a more productive vector of transfer than carpet, curtains or any other source but because of the intimacy of contact; it’s from those non-stick frypans we eat.  It’s also in dental floss but the psychological threshold of swallowing is real.

Lindsay Lohan using non-stick frypan.  Note the metal fork; Ms Lohan is a risk-taker.

Not all PFAS are identical in the critical areas assessed although they all share the characteristic of being stable, something which has seen then dubbed the “forever chemicals”, something potentially useful for science although it’s the implication that once released, the stuff will persist in the environment for millions of years which disturbs.  Some have been identified as especially dangerous and two (PFOS & PFOA) have already been phased out of industrial use, notably because of a risk posed to the human immune system and encouragingly, testing revealed that after FOS use ceased in 2000, levels in human blood declined significantly.  Those who ensure they use only soft kitchen utensils when using the non-stick products shouldn’t be too assured because injecting a big chunk of the stuff historically hasn’t been the issue; it’s the micro-sized bits entering the body and while manufacturers claim any coating swallowed is inert, the concerns remain.  In the absence of relevant data, there are nuanced positions on non-stick pans. The US Food & Drug Administration (FDA) continues to permit the use in cookware while the EPA maintains exposure can lead to “adverse health effects” and in 2022 proposed a labeling protocol which would require certain PFAS to be listed as “hazardous substances”.  Another branch of the administration, the Center for Disease Control (CDC) maintains the health effects of low exposure remain “uncertain.”

Cinque

Cinque (pronounced singk)

(1) In certain games (those using cards, dice, dominoes etc), a card, die, or domino with five spots or pips.

(2) As cinquefoil (1) a potentilla (flower), (2) in heraldry, a stylized flower or leaf with five lobes and (3) in topology, a particular knot of five crossings.

1350–1400: From the Middle English cink, from the Old French cinq (five), from the Vulgar Latin cinque, from the Latin quīnque (five).  The archaic spelling cinq was from the modern French cinq, whereas the standard spelling probably emerged either under the influence of the Italian cinque or was simply a misspelling of the French.  In typically English fashion, the pronunciation “sank” is based on a hypercorrect approximation of the French pronunciation, still heard sometimes among what use to be called “the better classes”.  The alternative forms were cinq (archaic), sinque (obsolete) and sink & sank (both misspellings).  The homophones are cinq, sink, sync & synch (and sank at the best parties); the noun plural is cinques.

Cinque outposts, attested since the 1640s was a term which referred to the five senses.  The noun cinquecento (written sometimes as cinque-cento) is used in (as noun & adjective) criticism & academic works when describing sixteenth century Italian art and literature.  It dates from 1760, from the Italian cinquecento (literally “500”) and was short for mil cinquecento (1500).  The use to describe "a group of five, five units treated as one," especially at cards or dice, dates from the late fourteenth century and in English was borrowed directly from the French cinq, a dissimilation from Latin quinque (five) which in Late Latin also picked up the familiar spelling cinque.  The ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European penkwe (five).

Cinquefoil housing stained glass (leadlight) window.

In architecture, a cinquefoil is a ornament constructed with five cuspidated divisions, the use dating from the late fifteenth century, from the Latin quinquefolium, the construct being quinque (five) + folium (leaf), from the primitive Indo-European root bhel- (to thrive, bloom).  In Gothic tracery, there was a wide use of circular shapes featuring a lobe tangent to the inner side of a larger arc or arch, meeting other lobes in points called cusps projecting inwards from the arch and architects defined them by the number of foils used, indicated by the prefix: trefoil (3), quatrefoil (4), cinquefoil (5), sexfoil (6), multifoil etc.  Although used as stand-alone fixtures, bands of quatrefoils were much used for enrichment during the Perpendicular period and, when placed with the axes set diagonally, quatrefoils were called cross-quarters.

Porsche "phone-dial" wheels, clockwise from top left: 1981 911SC, 1988 924S, 1987 944S & 1985 928S.  With a myriad of variations, the cinquefoil motif was a style for wheels used by a number of manufacturers, the best known of which were the ones with which Porsche equipped the 911, 924, 944 & 928 where they were known as the “phone-dial”, a reference which may puzzle those younger than a certain age.  Because these have five rather than ten holes, they really should have picked up the nickname "cinquefoil" rather than "phone-dial" but the former was presumably too abstract or obscure so the more accessible latter prevailed.  

Lamborghini likes the phone-dial still, Left to right: Huranan, Gallardo, Countach, Diablo and Silhouette.

Plastic wheelcover for the Ford Fairmont XE (left), a circa 1949 British GPO standard telephone in Bakelite (centre) (globally, the most produced handset in this style was the Model 302, manufactured in the US by Western Electric between 1937-1955 with a thermoplastic case) and plastic wheelcover for the Ford Fairmont XF (left).

Probably some are annoyed at the “five-hole” wheel design coming to be known as the “phone-dial” because of course the classic rotary-dial mechanism had ten holes, one for each numeral.  Ford Australia actually stuck to the classics when designing a plastic wheel-cover for the XE (1982-1984) Fairmont (the next rung up in the Falcon's pecking order) because it featured the correct ten holes and it was re-allocated as a “hand-me-down” for the Falcon when the XF (1984-1988) was introduced, the Fairmont now getting an eight-hole unit.  None of these seem ever to have been dubbed “phone-dials”, probably because plastic wheel–covers have never been a fetish like the older metal versions or aluminium wheels (often as “rims” in modern usage, a practice which also annoys some).

The origin of the hubcap was, fairly obviously, “a cap for hub”, something which dates from the age of horse-drawn carts.  Although they would later become something decorative, hubcaps began as a purely function fitting designed to ensure the hub mechanism was protected from dirt and moisture because removing a wheel when the hub was caked in mud with bolts “rusted on” could be a challenge.  In the twentieth century the practice was carried over to the automobile, initially without much change but as wheels evolved from the wooden-spoked to solid steel (and even in the 1920s some experimented with aluminium), the hubcaps became larger because the securing bolts were more widely spaced.  This meant they became a place to advertise so manufacturers added their name and before long, especially in the US, the humble hubcap evolved into the “wheel-cover”, enveloping the whole circle and they became a styling feature, designs ranging from the elegant to the garishly ornate and some were expensive: in 1984 a set of replacement “wire” wheel covers for a second generation Cadillac Seville (the so-called “bustle-back”, 1980-1985) listed at US$995.00 if ordered as a Cadillac part-number and then that was a lot of money.  By the late 1980s, most wheel covers were plastic pressings, other than in places like the isolated environments behind the Iron Curtain.

Lindsay Lohan in 2004 using touch-dial wall-phone.

Remarkably, although touch-dial (ie buttons) handsets appeared in the consumer market as early as 1963 and soon became the standard issue, in 2024 it’s possible still to buy new, rotary-dial phones although only the user experience remains similar; internally the connections are effected with optical technology, the “sound & feel” emulated.  There’s also a market for updating the old Bakelite & Thermoplastic units (now typically between 70-90 years old) with internals compatible with modern telephony so clearly there’s some nostalgia for the retro-look, if not the exact experience.  Even after the touch-dial buttons became ubiquitous the old terminology persisted among users (and in the manufacturers' documents); when making calls users continued to "dial the number".  The same sort of linguistic legacy exists today because ending a call is still the act of "hanging up" and that dates from the very early days of telephony when the ear-piece was a large conical attachment on a cord and at a call's conclusion, it was "hung up" on a arm, the weight of the receiver lowering the arm which physically separated two copper connectors, terminating the link between the callers.  

Ms Justine Haupt (b 1987) with custom rotary-dial cell phone in aquamarine.

Ms Justine Haupt, an astronomy instrumentation engineer at New York’s Brookhaven National Laboratory went a step further (sideways, some might suggest) and built a rotary-dial cell phone from scratch because of her aversion to what she describes as “smartphone culture and texting”, something to which many will relate.  In what proved a three year project, Ms Haupt used a rotary-dial mechanism from a Trimline telephone (introduced in 1965 and produced by Western Electric, the manufacturing unit of the Bell System), mounted on a case 4 x 3 x 1 inches (100 x 75 x 25 mm) in size with a noticeably protuberant aerial; it uses an AT&T prepaid sim card and has a battery-life of some 24-30 hours.  Conforming to the designer’s choices of functionality, it includes two speed-dial buttons, an e-paper display and permits neither texting nor internet access.  Although she intended the device as a one-off for her own use, Ms Haupt was surprised at the interest generated and in 2022 began selling a kit with which others could build their own (US$170 (Stg£130)), all parts included except the rotary-dial mechanism which would need to be sourced from junk shops and such.  Unlike the larger mechanism on the traditional desk or wall-mounted telephone, the holes in the Trimline’s smaller rotary-dial used the whole circle so the ten-hole layout is symmetrical and thus the same as the XE Fairmont’s wheelcover, something doubtlessly wholly coincidental.

The rough-fruited cinquefoil or sulphur cinquefoil (Potentilla recta).

In botany, the potentila is a genus containing some three-hundred species of annual, biennial and perennial herbaceous flowering plants in the rose (rosaceae) family.  Since the 1540s it’s been referred to as the cinquefoil (also “five fingers” or “silverweeds”), all distinguished by their compound leaves of five leaflets.

The Confederation of Cinque Ports was a group of coastal towns in Kent, Sussex and Essex, the name from the Old French which means literally “five harbors”.  The five were Hastings, Sandwich, Dover, Romney, and Hythe, all on the western shore of the English Channel, where the crossing to the continent is narrowest.  Because of (1) their importance in cross-channel trade and (2) being in the region ,most vulnerable to invasion, they were granted special privileges and concessions by the Crown in exchange for providing certain services essential for maritime defense, dating from the years prior to the formation of the Royal Navy in the fifteenth century.  The name was first used in the late twelfth century in Anglo-Latin and the late thirteenth in English.

An early version of a public-private partnership, with no permanent navy to defend it from sea-borne aggression, the crown contracted with the confederation to provide what was essentially a naval reserve to be mobilized when needed. Earlier, Edward the Confessor (circa 1003–1066; King of England 1042-1066) had contracted the five most important strategically vital Channel ports of that era to provide ships and men “for the service of the monarch” and although this was used most frequently as a “cross-Channel ferry service” and was not exclusively at the disposal of the government.  Under the Norman kings, the institution assumed the purpose of providing the communications and logistical connections essential to keeping together the two halves of the realm but after the loss of Normandy in 1205, their ships and ports suddenly became England’s first line of defense against the French.

The earliest charter still extant dates from 1278 but a royal charter of 1155 charged the ports with the corporate duty to maintain in readiness fifty-seven ships, each to be available each year for fifteen days in the service of the king, each port fulfilling a proportion of the whole duty.  In return the ports and towns received a number of tax breaks and privileges including: An exemption from tax and tolls, limited autonomy, the permission to levy tolls, certain law enforcement and judicial rights, possession of lost goods that remain unclaimed after a year and of flotsam (floating wreckage and such) & jetsam (goods thrown overboard).  Even at the time this was thought to be a good deal and the leeway afforded to the Cinque Ports and the substantial absence of supervision from London led inevitability to smuggling and corruption although in this the Cinque Ports were hardly unique.

The Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports was something like a viceroy and the office still exists today but is now purely ceremonial and, although technically relict, remains a sinecure and an honorary title, regarded as one of the higher honors bestowed by the Sovereign and a sign of special approval by the establishment which includes the entitlement to the second oldest coat of arms of England.  The prestige it confers on the holder is derived from (1) it being the gift of the sovereign, (2) it being England’s most ancient military honor and (3), the illustrious standing of many of the previous hundred and fifty-eight holders of the office.  It is a lifetime appointment.

William Lygon (1872-1938), seventh Earl Beauchamp, in uniform of Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.

The office of lord Warden has not been without the whiff of scandal.  William Lygon, who in 1891 succeeded his father as the seventh Earl Beauchamp, was at twenty-seven appointed governor of New South Wales, a place to which he would later return, happily and otherwise.  In 1913, Beauchamp, well-connected in society and the ruling Liberal Party’s leader in the House of Lords, was appointed Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports and, fond of pomp, ceremony and dressing-up, he enjoyed the job.  However, in 1930, he embarked on a round-the-world tour which included a two-month stint in Sydney, where he stayed, accompanied by a young valet who lived with him as his lover.  This, along with other antics, did not go unnoticed, and the Australian Star newspaper duly reported:

“The most striking feature of the vice-regal ménage is the youthfulness of its members … rosy cheeked footmen, clad in liveries of fawn, heavily ornamented in silver and red brocade, with many lanyards of the same hanging in festoons from their broad shoulders, [who] stood in the doorway, and bowed as we passed in … Lord Beauchamp deserves great credit for his taste in footmen.”

The report found its way to London when Beauchamp’s brother-in-law, the second Duke of Westminster (1879–1953), hired detectives to gather evidence, hoping to destroy him and damage the Liberal Party, the Tory duke hating both.  Evidence proved abundant and not hard to find and in 1931 Westminster publicly denounced Beauchamp as a homosexual to the king (George V 1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936), who was appalled and responded that he “…thought men like that always shot themselves.”  Westminster insisted a warrant be issued for Beauchamp’s arrest and that forced him into exile.

Lady Beauchamp seems to have shown some confusion upon being informed of her husband’s conduct.  Although he had enjoyed many liaisons in their (admittedly large) residences, his partners including servants, socialites & local fishermen and his proclivities were an open secret known to many in society, his wife remained oblivious and expressed some confusion about what homosexuality was.  Leading a sheltered existence, Lady Beauchamp had never been told about the mechanics of "the abominable crime of buggery" and baffled, thought her husband was being accused of being a bugler.  Once things were clarified she petitioned for divorce, the papers describing the respondent as:

“A man of perverted sexual practices, [who] has committed acts of gross indecency with male servants and other male persons and has been guilty of sodomy … throughout the married life … the respondent habitually committed acts of gross indecency with certain of his male servants.”

Beauchamp decamped first to Germany, a prudent choice given that although homosexual acts had been illegal since the unification of Germany in 1871, under the Weimar Republic (1918-1933), enforcement was rare and a gay culture flourished blatantly in the larger German cities, the Berlin scene famous even then.  After the Nazis gained power in 1933, things changed and Beauchamp contemplated satisfying George V’s assumption but was dissuaded, instead spending his time between Paris, Venice, Sydney and San Francisco, then four of the more tolerant cities and certainly places where wealthy gay men could usually bribe their way out of any legal unpleasantness.

After the death of George V, the warrant for Beauchamp’s arrest was lifted and, in July 1937, he returned to England.  What did come as a surprise to many was that soon after his arrival, invitations were issued for a Beauchamp ball, ostensibly a coming-of-age celebration for Richard Lygon (1916-1970; the youngest son) but universally regarded as an attempt at a social resurrection.  In a sign of the times, much of London society did attend although there were those who abstained and made it known.  Still, it seems to have appeared a most respectable and even successful event, Henry "Chips" Channon (1897-1958) noting in his diary it was a bit dull, the “only amusing moment when Lord Beauchamp escorted… a negress cabaret singer into supper.  People were cynically amused but I was not surprised, knowing of his secret activities in Harlem.  It is never a long step from homosexuality to black ladies.”  Beauchamp didn’t long enjoy his return to society, dying within a year of the ball.  The vicissitudes of his life were helpful to Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) when writing Brideshead Revisited (1945), the character of Lord Marchmain based on Beauchamp himself while the ill-fated Sebastian Flyte was inspired by Beauchamp’s son Hugh (1904-1936) who shared and (with some enthusiasm) pursued some of his father’s interests.  Despite it all, an appointment as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports is for life and Lord Beauchamp remained in office until his death.