Saturday, September 11, 2021

Sole

Sole (pronounced sohl)

(1) Being the only one; only.

(2) Being the only one of the kind; unique; unsurpassed; matchless.

(3) Belonging or pertaining to one individual or group to the exclusion of all others; exclusive.

(4) In law, un-married (archaic).

(5) The bottom or under-surface of the foot.

(6) The corresponding under part of a shoe, boot, or the like, or this part exclusive of the heel.

(7) The bottom, under surface, or lower part of anything.

(8) In carpentry, the underside of a plane.

(9) In golf, the part of the head of the club that touches the ground.

(10) A European flatfish, Solea solea.

(11) Any other flatfish of the families Soleidae and Cynoglossidae, having a hook-like snout.

1275-1325:  From the Old French soul & sol (only, alone, just), from the Vlugar Latin sola from the Late Latin sōlus (alone, only, single, sole; forsaken; extraordinary), replacing Middle English soule.  The source was the Classical Latin solea (sandal, bottom of a shoe; a flatfish), derivative of solum (base, bottom, ground, foundation, lowest point of a thing (hence “sole of the foot”)).  The Latin root begat similar words in many European languages: the Spanish suela, the Italian soglia and the Portuguese solha although, technically, the bottom of the foot is the planta, corresponding to the palm of the hand.  The Latin sōlus is of unknown origin but may be related to the primitive Indo-European reflexive root swo- from which English later gained "so".

A fossil flatfish.

The various common European flatfishes (of the ray-finned demersal order Pleuronectiformes) became known as sole in the mid-thirteenth century, an adoption of French use which followed the Latin which named the solea after the sandal because of the resemblance in shape to a flat shoe.  In English, the meaning "bottom of a shoe or boot" is from the late fourteenth century, and the cobbler’s phrase “to heal and sole a boot (or shoe)” to describe a repair or replacement is a verb form from the 1560s.  Another linguistic innovation of boot-makers was the noun insole (an inner lining of a shoe or boot affixed inside to the bottom and following exactly the shape) which appeared in 1838; it soon became known as the inner sole or inner-sole.

The use in both Church and common law to mean "single, alone, having no husband or wife” was an appropriation of form reflecting the normal, everyday meaning of the sole (one and only, singular, unique) and was first used in that context in the late fourteenth century and, in some technical uses, appeared still as late as the early nineteenth.  The adjective solely began to appear in the late fifteenth century.  A particular adjectival adoption was the direct borrowing from Latin of solus, used in the theatre for stage directions by 1590s.  It’s a masculine (the feminine is sola) but, as part of an industry-specific jargon, solus was used for both.  In certain circles, including poets and lawyers, use of the word persisted in old Latin phrases such as solus cum sola (alone with an unchaperoned woman) and solus cum solo (all on one's own” (which translates literally as "alone with alone")).

Studies of the soles of the Lindsay Lohan’s feet in three aspects.

Sole and its antecedents proved a a productive source in English, the soleus (muscle of the calf of the leg) a creation in the 1670s in the Modern Latin used in medicine and, like the fish, inspired by the similarity to the Roman shoe.  The adjective solitary (alone, living alone) was a mid-fourteenth century formation from the Old French solitaire, from the Latin solitarius (alone, lonely, isolated) from solitas (loneliness, solitude) from solus (alone).  The meaning "single, sole, only" is from 1742 and the related forms are a solitarily & solitariness.   It was a noun as early as the late 1300s but the most inventive adaptation was probably the 1690s prison slang in which it described the punishment of solitary confinement; in 1854 the phrase became an official part of the administration of jails.

Martin Luther aged 43 (1529) by Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472-1653).

As a Reformation coinage, solus also provided theology with the 1590s solifidian (one who believes in salvation by faith alone), a tenet of Protestant Christianity based on the translation by the dissident, one-time Augustinian monk Martin Luther (1483-1546) of Romans 3:28, the construct being solus (alone) + fides (faith) from the primitive Indo-European root bheidh- (to trust, confide, persuade).  It must have been a success because solifidian was used as an adjective early in the new century; the related form is solifidianism.  Philosophy gained solipsism, the theory that self is the only object of real knowledge or the only thing that is real and that all else must be denied.

The solo as a “piece of music for one voice or instrument” dates from the 1690s and was in English a commonly used adjective as early as 1712, although the early uses had nothing to do with music, instead referring to activities undertaken alone or unassisted.  The verb is first attested 1858 in the musical sense, 1886 in a non-musical sense and was adopted in the business of pilot training to describe a pupil’s first flight without an instructor in the cockpit.  Among those who attend rock concerts, there seems to be one faction which regards the drum solo as a highlight and one for which it's a bore to be endured.

A desolate emo.

Desolate, the emo’s standard alliterative companion to devastated, in the mid-1300s meant “a person disconsolate, miserable, overwhelmed with grief, deprived of comfort", extended later in the century to “persons without companions, solitary, lonely".  If the word didn’t exist, emos would have invented it.  By the early fifteenth century, it became applied to the natural environment to describe places, "uninhabited, abandoned" from the Latin desolatus, past participle of desolare (leave alone, desert), the construct being de- (completely) + solare (make lonely).  It’s not clear when it came also to be used as a criticism of urban, built environments (typically industrial or suburban) but it was well-established early in the twentieth century.  Desolation (sorrow, grief, personal affliction), circa 1400 meant the "action of laying waste, destruction or expulsion of inhabitants" is from the twelfth century Old French desolacion (desolation, devastation, hopelessness, despair) and directly from the Church Latin desolationem (nominative desolatio), a noun of action from the past-participle stem of desolare (leave alone, desert).  The sense of a "condition of being ruined or wasted, destruction" is from the early 1400 and the sense of "a desolated place, a devastated or lifeless region" is from 1610s.  Also emo-themed was the adjective sullen, a 1570s alteration of the Middle English soleyn (unique, singular) from the Anglo-French solein, formed on the pattern of the Old French solain (lonely), from the Latin solus.  The emo-inspired sense shift in Middle English from "solitary" to "morose" occurred in the late fourteenth century.  Solitude is from the mid-fourteenth century, from the Old French solitude (loneliness) and directly from the Latin solitudinem (nominative solitudo) (loneliness, being alone; lonely place, desert, wilderness) from solus but didn’t become common use in English until the seventeenth century.  The solitudinarian (a recluse, unsocial person) is recorded from 1690s and it’s perhaps surprising such a modern-sounding word isn’t today more popular.

Saint Augustine of Hippo (circa 1510) by Berto di Giovanni (d 1529).

The noun soliloquy is from the 1610s, from the Late Latin soliloquium (a talking to oneself", the construct being solus + loqui (to speak) from the primitive Indo-European root tolkw- (to speak).  Earlier, it appeared in a translation of the Latin Soliloquiorum libri duo a treatise by Saint Augustine (354-430), who is said to have coined the word, on analogy of Greek monologia.  The related form is soliloquent.

Friday, September 10, 2021

Random

Random (pronounced ran-duhm)

(1) Proceeding, made, or occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern; lacking any definite plan or prearranged order; haphazard.

(2) In statistics, of or characterizing a process of selection in which each item of a set has an equal probability of being chosen (the random sample); having a value which cannot be determined but only described probabilistically.

(3) Of materials used in building and related constructions, lacking uniformity in size or shape.

(4) Of ashlar (stonework), laid without continuous courses and applied without regularity:

(5) In slang (also clipped to “rando” and some on-line sources insist “randy” is also used), something or someone unknown, unidentified, unexpected or out of place; anything odd or unpredictable (not necessarily a pejorative term and used as both noun & adjective).

(6) In slang, someone unimportant; a person of no consequence (always a pejorative).

(7) In printing, the sloping work surface at the top of a compositor's workbench on which type is composed (also called a bank and use now almost exclusive to the UK).

(8) In mining, the direction of a rake-vein.

(9) Speed, full speed; impetuosity, force (obsolete).

(10) In ballistics, the full range of a bullet or other projectile and thus the angle at which a weapon is tilted to gain maximum range (obsolete).

(11) In computing (as pseudorandom), mimicking the result of random selection.

1650s: From the earlier randon, from the Middle English randoun & raundon, from the Old French randon, a derivative of randir (to run; to gallop) of Germanic origin (related to the Old High German rinnan (to run) (from which Modern French gained randonnée (long walk, hike), from either the Frankish rant (a running) & randiju (a run, race) or the Old Norse rend (a run, race), both from the Proto-Germanic randijō, from rinnaną (run), from the primitive Indo-European r̥-nw- (to flow, move, run).  It was cognate with the Middle Low German uprinden (to jump up) and the Danish rende (to run).  The development of the adjective to mean “having no definite aim or purpose, haphazard, not sent in a special direction” evolved in the 1650s from the mid-sixteenth century phrase “at random” (at great speed) which picked up the fourteenth century sense from the Middle English noun randon & randoun (impetuosity; speed).  In English, the meaning closely mirrored that in the Old French randon (rush, disorder, force, impetuosity), gained from Frankish or other Germanic sources.  The spelling shift in Modern English from -n to –m was not unusual (seldom, ransom et al).  Random is a noun & adjective, randomness & randomosity are nouns, randomize is a verb and randomly is an adverb; the noun plural is randoms.

A “random person” is one variously unknown, unidentified, unexpected or out of place.

In general use, the meanings related to speed (full speed; force, trajectory of delivery etc) faded from use between the fourteenth & seventeenth centuries but persisted in the field of ballistics where “random” described the limit of the range of a bullet or other projectile (thus the angle at which a weapon was tilted to gain the maximum range.  Even that was largely obsolete by the early twentieth century but the idea of the angle being “a random” persists still in pockets in the UK to describe a sloping work surface on which printers compose pages (although few now use physical metal type).  The now familiar twenty-first century slang use can be either pejorative (someone unimportant; a person of no consequence) or neutral tending to the amused (something or someone unknown, unidentified, unexpected or out of place; anything odd or unpredictable).  The modern adoption appears to have its origin in 1980s US college student slang when “a person who does not belong on our dormitory floor” was so described; from this the hint of “inferior, undesirable” was perhaps inevitable.  “Rando” seems to be the standard abbreviation but some on-line sources also list “randy” which would seem to risk confusion or worse.

School lunch social engineering: Some sources recommend parents cut their children’s sandwiches in random ways.  The theory is it helps train their minds to accept change and helps them learn to adapt.

In computing, random access memory (RAM) had since the 1980s become familiar as one of a handful of the critical specifications of a computer (CPU, RAM, drive space) and the origin of the terms dates from IBM’s labs in the early 1950s when it was used to describe a new form of memory which could be read non-sequentially.  The modern RAM used by personal computers, servers, smart phones etc is an evolution from the original memory model; in the world of the early mainframes there was simply storage which could fulfil the functions now performed by both RAM and media like hard disks & solid state drives.  RAM is now a well-known commodity but the companion ROM (Read-Only Memory) is understood only by nerds and only an obsessional few of them give it much thought.  RAM volatile in that the contents are inherently temporary lost when the device is powered-down or re-started; it can thus be thought of as using static electricity for data storage.  That characteristic means it’s fast, affording the most rapid access by the CPU (Central Processing Unit) so is used to hold whatever data is at the time most in demand and that can be parts of the operating system, applications or documents.  ROM is non-volatile and whatever is written to ROM remains even if a device is switched-off; it’s thus used for essential, information like firmware and hardware information.

In mathematics and statistics, random does have precise definitions but in general use it’s used also as a vague synonym for “typical or average”.  To a statistician, the word implies “having unpredictable outcomes to the extent all outcomes are equally probable and if any statistical correlation is found to exist it will be wholly coincidental.  Thus, although all dictionaries list the comparative as more random and the superlative as most random, a statistician will insist these are as absurd as “very unique” although even among mathematicians phrases like “increasingly random” or “tending to randomness” are probably not unknown.  For others, the forms are useful and the colloquial use to mean “apropos of nothing; lacking context; unexpected; having apparent lack of plan, cause or reason” is widely applied to events, even those which to a specialist may not be at all random and may even be predictable.  For most of us, any sub-set of numbers which appears to have no pattern will appear random but mathematicians need to be more precise.  In the strict, technical sense, a true random number set exists only when two conditions are satisfied: (1) the values are uniformly distributed over a defined interval or set and (2) it is impossible to predict future values based on past or present ones.  In the pre-computer age, creating random number lists was challenging and subsequent analysis has found some of the sets created by manual or mechanical means were not truly random although those which were sufficiently large probably were functional for the purposes to which they were put.

“Random news” is something strange, unexpected and often amusing.    

Now, random number generators (RNG) are used and they can exist either in hardware or software and there are two types (1) pseudorandom number generators (PRNG) and true random number generators (TRNG).  A software algorithm, a PRNG emulates a TRNG by mimicking the selection of a value to approximate true randomness, the limitation being the algorithm being based on a distribution (the origin of the term pseudorandom) which can only produce something ultimately deterministic and predictable (although to determine the pattern can demand much computational power).  Relying on a seed number, if that can be isolated, other numbers can be predicted although, if the subset is large, for many purposes, what PRNGs generate is functional.  TRNGs don’t use an algorithm (although their processes can be represented by one) but are instead based on an unpredictable physical variable such as radioactive decay of isotopes, airwave static, or the behaviour of subatomic particles, the latter now favoured for their utterly unpredictable movements, now called “pure randomness”.  So random is the behaviour of subatomic particles that their observation appears to be immune to measurement biases which can (at least in theory) afflict other methods.

Random numbers are important in a number of fields including (1) statistical sampling and experimentation where it’s essential to select a random sample to ensure that the results are representative of the entire population, (2) cryptography where random numbers are used to generate the encryption keys which ensure the security of data and communications, (3) simulation and modelling where there’s a need to replicate real-world scenarios, (4) gaming & gambling where the need exists to create unpredictable outcomes and (5) randomized controlled trials (RCT), notably in medical and scientific research where true randomness is needed to assist in the assessment of the effectiveness of treatments, interventions, or policies.

Thursday, September 9, 2021

Strand

Strand (pronounced strand)

(1) To drive or leave (a ship, fish etc) aground or ashore.

(2) To bring into or leave in a helpless position (usually used in the passive).

(3) A shore or beach (now poetic, archaic or regional).

(4) A small brook or rivulet (archaic).

(5) A passage for water; a gutter (Northern England & Scotland)

(6) A foreign country (archaic).

(7) One of a number of fibres, threads, or yarns, plaited or twisted together to form a rope, cord, or the like.

(8) A rope made of such twisted or plaited fibres.

(9) A fibre or filament, as in animal or plant tissue.

(10) A thread or threadlike part of anything.

(11) By extension, a constituent element in a complex argument.

(12) A street in the Westminster district of west-central London, running from Trafalgar Square to Fleet Street parallel to the Thames, so-called because it was the “north strand” (ie shore) of the river; also the areas immediately surrounding the street.

Pre 1000:  From the Middle English strand or strond, (sea shore), from Old English strand (shore), related to the Dutch strand and Middle High German strant (beach) and the Latin sternere (to spread).  The Old English was borrowed from the Proto-Germanic strandaz & strandō (edge, rim, shore), source also of the Danish and Swedish strand (beach, shore, strand), the Old Norse strönd (border, edge, shore) the Middle Low German strant and the German and Dutch strand (beach).  The origin of the Proto-Germanic is uncertain but may be from the primitive Indo-European ster- (to broaden or stretch out), the application of which was “the parts of a shore that lies between the tide-marks” and it applied formerly also to river banks, hence The Strand in London, the name dating from 1246.

Françoise Hardy (b 1944), The Strand, London, 1966.

Historically, in Middle English it described things riparian, the use to refer to “individual fibres of a rope, string etc” or human hair first recorded circa 1500, probably from the Old French estran, from a Germanic source akin to the Old High German streno (lock, tress, strand of hair) from which is derived the Middle Dutch strene (a skein, hank of thread) and the German strähne (a skein, strand) of unknown origin.  The meaning "to drive aground on a shore" from which flowed the figurative sense of "leave lost or helpless" as of a ship left aground by the tide, was first recorded in 1837 and survives in the words stranded & stranding. Descendants of the Germanic root appear in many European languages including Hungarian, Romanian & Serbo-Croatian and it’s a not uncommon proper noun in the Nordic lands, both as a surname and locality name.

The stranded phrase

In linguistic anthropology, a stranded phrase is a once-popular saying that has fallen from use.  The idea is shared with economics where the term stranded asset is used to describe assets held which have been subject to a premature or unanticipated devaluation in their value, the most commonly quoted potential examples being vast, undeveloped coal-fields which decades ago were highly valued, to be capitalized over a productive life which might be forty or more years but which may shortly become worthless because of shifts in the market.  Phrases can fall from favor for structural reasons or just become unfashionable in the way something like “stone the crows” is archaic, stranded in the time of its popularity, sometimes surviving only as period pieces of an era.

The phrase bunny boiler is derived from the film Fatal Attraction (1987) in which an obsessive, spurned woman, in a fit of frenzied jealousy, boils in a pot the pet rabbit of her erstwhile lover's daughter.  The epithet was coined to refer to women unable to remain rational at the end of a romantic relationship and predictably, is only ever applied to women.  In pre-web times, variations in colloquial language tended to spread more slowly than those powered by the latter-day ubiquity of the net and “bunny boiler” seems not to have entered general use until 1994.  The USENET groups which maintain online archives of such things notes bunny boiler was not used on their (pre-web) platform and while there’s no reliable information about use on the web before 1994, given that non-academic use of the internet then was a tiny fraction of today, such data might anyway not be indicative of general use but nor are there more than a handful of instances in the archives of US and British newspapers before that date.  Indeed, the first recorded instance in print is from an interview the rabbit-slaughtering actress Glenn Close (b 1947) gave to the US magazine Ladies' Home Journal in December 1990 during which she observed "…there's nothing like portraying a psychopathic bunny-boiler to boost one's self-esteem”.  If that was the first publication, that’s a plausible reason why it took so long after 1987 to disseminate and it makes sense because the epithet isn't in the original dialogue or promotional material and nor does it appear in any contemporary review.

Despite that, some sources do say it pre-dates 1990 but provide no evidence and all agree it came into wider use only after 1994 when the web began to assist dissemination, a process similar to that described by epidemiologists to illustrate the progress of viruses which, if achieving critical mass, can become an epidemic… or worse.  Bunny boiler thus began to enjoy a rapidity of infection from 1994, use peaking between 1998-2003, then declining to become stranded in its era.  The explanation offered by etymologists is that too much time elapsed between the source in 1987, the origin of the phrase circa 1990 and the mid-decade adoption so it lacked the newness and novelty these things usually require; its historic moment had passed.  Still, for men it remains useful, any needy, possessive, clingy or even talkative woman can be labelled potential or suspected bunny boiler.

Strands of Lindsay Lohan’s hair in an array of colors.

The idea is of course not new.  For some reason, the (anyway incorrectly quoted) phrase “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” is often attributed to Shakespeare, possibly because it’s plausibly in his voice or maybe because for most the only time the Middle English “hath” is seen is in some Shakespearian quote so the association sticks.  The real author however was actually Restoration playwright William Congreve (1670–1729) who coined the phrase for his 1697 play The Mourning Bride, the protagonist of which, although becoming a bit unhinged by the cruel path of doomed love, doesn’t resort to leporidaecide.  Congreve’s line, “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned” was good but actually was a more poetic rendition of a similar but less elegantly expressed version another playwright had used a year earlier.  The Mourning Bride is also the source of another fragment for which the bard is often given undeserved credit: “Music has charms to soothe a savage breast” although that’s often bowdlerized as “Music has charms to soothe a savage beast”.

Wednesday, September 8, 2021

Talisman

Talisman (pronounced tal-is-muhn or tal-iz-muhn)

(1) A stone, ring, or other object, usually engraved with figures or characters supposed to possess occult powers and worn as an amulet or charm; believed to protect the wearer from evil influences

(2) Any amulet or charm.

(3) Anything or anyone, the presence of which exercises a remarkable or powerful influence on human feelings or actions.

(4) A trim option offered on the Cadillac Fleetwood (1974-1976).

1630–1640: From the French or Spanish talisman, partly from Arabic طِلَسْم‎ (ilasm), from the Late Greek télesmon (completion, performance, consecrated object), and partly directly from the Byzantine Greek τέλεσμα (télesma) (talisman, religious rite, completion), from τελέω (teléō), (to perform religious rites, to complete), from τέλος (télos) (end, fulfillment, accomplishment, consummation, completion”).  The Arabic word was also borrowed by Turkish, Persian & Hindi and the only explanation for the -n in western European languages is replicated error.  Derived forms are the adjectives talismanic & talismanical and the adverb talismanically.  Talisman is a noun & verb, talismaning & talismaned are verbs, talismanic is an adjective and talismanically is an adverb; the noun plural is talismans (talismen is non-standard).  Talismanique is a French and not an English adjective.

Lindsay Lohan wearing (non-Masonic) Evil Eye talisman, Los Angeles, March 2011.

The Evil Eye is a talisman (or amulet), or talisman which is said to afford the wearer protection against the forces of evil.  Examples of Evil Eye talismans have for some three-thousand years existed in many cultures and are documented in early examples of the art of Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism and Christianity, the forms including the Hebrew Ayin Ha’ra, the Turkish Nazar Boncugu, the Italian Mal Occhio, the Farsi Bla Band, the Arabic Ayin Harsha, the Scots Droch Shuil, the Spanish Mal Ojo (or El Oja), the French Mauvais Oeil, the German Busen Blick and the Roman Oculus Malus.  The imagery is particularly ingrained in the Republic of Türkiye where the symbolism is visible on symbol on currency, in architecture and interior design, one often hung from the necks of new-born children and even farm animals.

Freemason Evil Eye talisman.

Also known as the “Eye of Providence”, the symbol is not only part of Masonic ritualism but it appears on both the reverse of the US dollar bill (in a pyramid’s top cap) and the nation’s Great Seal.  Although many of the founding fathers of the US were confessed Freemasons, the official line is the unfinished pyramid was intended to symbolise “strength and duration”, with the 13 levels representing the original states which formed the US while the eye was there to acknowledge God’s sympathetic oversight of the fledgling nation.  It’s claimed the Freemasons had no involvement in these choices and that the cult didn’t begin publicly to display the evil eye until well into the eighteenth century.  Whether prior to that they used it in secret is of course unknown except to them and also a mystery is whether every member of the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d’Or is required to wear a concealed Masonic talisman.  It’s never been denied and unless there’s a defection, that too may remain a secret.

The Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman, 1974-1976

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman in Sable Black over Dark Blue Medici Cloth.

Even by the standards of the American automobile of the time, the 1971 Cadillac was big.  Replacing the previous range which had run from 1965-1970, engineering innovations were limited and the changes mostly cosmetic, much of the manufacturer’s attentions now devoted to conforming with the onrush of safety and pollution control legislation being imposed by governments (the Californian authorities, cognizant of the conditions (climatic & social) which made pollution in Los Angeles and San Francisco a particular concern, becoming more rigorous than Washington DC or the other 49 states).  In 1971 however, although somewhat detuned, the 472 cubic inch (7.7 litre) V8 was still rated at 365 gross horsepower and, with the emission controls still only rudimentary, retained the characteristics which by the early 1960s had meant Detroit’s full-sized were acknowledged to have the world’s most refined engine-transmission combinations.  Even though typically weighing over 5000 lbs (2300 kg) and built with few concessions to aerodynamic efficiency, 1971 Cadillacs had power enough for performance to be described usually as "effortless".

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman in Cotillion White over Dark Blue Medici Cloth.

Production volumes dropped in 1971 but that was because of difficulties in industrial relations and once new agreements were in place, sales quickly rebounded, records set in 1972 and again in 1973, Cadillac for the first time, producing more than 300,000 cars.  There were however warning signs on the 1973 cars.  Although not yet the battering-rams later bolted on, the bumper bars had grown bigger and heavier and, for the first time, the emission controls began to be noticed, becoming intrusive by 1974, drivability suffering, power down and fuel consumption up.  The typical Cadillac owner might not have been much troubled by the gas (petrol) bill but they certainly noted, and complained about, the loss of power and occasionally stuttering engines; much worse was to come.  1973 would be the last good year for the “old” American economy which, sustained by the unusual circumstances of the post-war boom had, with the odd minor glitch, maintained an unprecedented general prosperity for over twenty years.  A generation now existed which knew no other world but the world shifted on 17 October 1973 when OAPEC (the Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) imposed the first oil embargo, ending the boom which had been fed by cheap, limitless energy.  Suddenly, in the US, not only was gas more expensive, the cost of a barrel of oil having quadrupled overnight, but there were, at least briefly, genuine shortages.  Even Cadillac owners with money enough to pay for a tank of gas found themselves in long queues, sometimes not able to find any for sale.

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency front compartment in Black.

It was a short, sharp shock; oil supplies within months began again to flow but prices remained high.  Cadillac sales fell twenty-odd percent in 1974 but it was actually a good result, the company continuing to dominate its market sector, its performance better than many.  The performance of the cars was less impressive, the bumpers ever bigger, the power lower and the driveability issues caused by the emission control devices worse.  At the time, there wasn’t much Cadillac could (or was prepared) to do about these things but resources were found to add even more luxury.  For years, the industry had been creating ever fancier versions of its lines, even the lower-priced being augmented with luxury versions, sometimes called “Brougham”, a phenomenon which the website Curbside Classic dubbed "the great brougham era" and date from Ford's 1965 introduction of the "LTD" option for the Galaxie: to that Chevrolet responded with the Caprice and the bling race had begun.  Neither of those modest tart-up jobs troubled the thoughts of the Cadillac board but, although domestically, Cadillac had long faced competition from Lincoln and Imperial, what must have been galling in the milieu of the great brougham era was the threat which later emerged from within.  Oldsmobile, two notches down the General Motors (GM) pecking list from Cadillac, in 1972 introduced a special "anniversary" version of their top-of-the-range Ninety-Eight four-door hardtop, the package including not just tufted velour upholstery but finished it in the "loose pillow" style beloved by interior decorators.  In the Oldsmobile, the "pillows" were fixed rather than loose but the look was there. 

Regency at Tiffany's: Publicity shot for 1972 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency.  All the "anniversary" Regency models were four-door hardtops in a specially mixed shade of gold with the choice of a "Black" or "Covet Gold" velor interior.  In 1971-1976, the full-size Oldsmobiles and Cadillacs were all built on GM's shared C-Body platform, differing in external panels, internal trim, engines and detailing.  At a distance, many would have found it difficult to tell C-Body Oldsmobile from a Cadillac.  

By 1972, there were so many “Broughams” on the market Oldsmobile must have thought the tag was becoming a bit common so to mark the company’s 75th anniversary, they called their new creation the “Regency”.  Vague as many Americans might have been about the origin of “brougham”, most probably assumed “regency” had something to do with royalty so as an associative pointer it was good.  The Ninety-Eight Regency in 1972 was however as audacious as the LTD had half-a-decade earlier been tentative because it was beyond Cadillacesque in its aspirations; nothing in Cadillac’s showrooms could match the conspicuous opulence of the Regency’s black or gold, “pillow effect”, tufted velour upholstery.  A run of 2,650 Ninety-Eight Regency cars was built and they were so well-received a (non-anniversary) model was in 1973 added to the range as a regular production model.  By 1982, Oldsmobile must have concluded the message needed again to be drummed into buyers so they introduced the Regency Brougham.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman rear compartment in Dark Blue Medici Cloth with optional pillows.  The pillows (which many would have described as "cushions") were also available on the Talismans trimmed in leather.  The world should have more leather pillows.

The Regency package was a US$372 option for the Ninety-Eight which had a base price of US$5097.60.  In Cadillac’s boardroom, as the brochure was passed around the table, it must have seemed act of impertinence and one which GM’s management once would not have tolerated.  The so-called “Sloan ladder of success” was conceived by Alfred P Sloan (1875–1966; president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and chairman of the board 1937-1946)) and the idea was that as a customer’s wealth increased, they would take the “next step on the ladder”; by 1930 that ladder had nine rungs with Chevrolet at the bottom and Cadillac the top.  That meant the “middle class” had seven GM brands to choose from, all positioned at ascending “price points” and what this meant was a customer could advertise their increasing wealth and upward social mobility by moving up a rung, trading in their car for one a rung (or more) up in the hierarchy.  For the system to work, it was important the products of one division not trespass into the bailiwick of another and in Mr Sloan's time this discipline was maintained.

Of course, while one can climb a ladder, one can also climb down and a former Cadillac buyer finding themselves in circumstances so reduced as to have to visit the Chevrolet dealer might have been said to be on the “Sloan ladder of failure”.  Nor was it socially obligatory for the rich to ascend to the top rung.  Before her first husband became president, Jacqueline Kennedy (1929-1994; US First Lady 1961-1963) went to old Joe Kennedy (1888–1969) and told him she’d like to buy a Ford Thunderbird on the basis: “What could be More American than that?”  Promptly she was told: “The Kennedys drive Buicks!”  Actually even that wasn’t always true because the car Ted Kennedy (1932–2009) drove off a bridge in the “Chappaquiddick Incident” was a 1967 Oldsmobile Delmont 88 (not even the most expensive Oldsmobile) which belonged to his mother.  The crash happened shortly before midnight on 18 July 1969, after the then senator had left a cocktail party in the company of Mary Jo Kopechne (1940-1969) who had worked on Robert F Kennedy’s (RFK, 1925–1968; US attorney general 1961-1964) presidential campaign in 1968.  Ms Kopechne died in the crash, Senator Kennedy not reporting the matter for more than ten hours after he left the scene.  The ladder was fully evolved by 1929, the rungs tagged thus:

Chevrolet: The entry-level range with the lowest price; a high volume “value for money” pitch using the concept perfected by Ford's Model T (1908-1927).

Pontiac: Introduced in 1926, the Pontiac would once perhaps have been called the “Chevrolet Deluxe” but it was in the 1920s the ages of mass-consumerism and modern marketing began; the creation of a separate nameplate was an indication of how the techniques of capitalism were evolving.

Oldsmobile: Before the brand-name proliferation, Oldsmobile was GM’s classic “middle-class” car, sitting between Chevrolet and Buick.

Marquette: Marquette existed only between 1929–1930 and was a product of a gap existing in Mr Sloan’s price-point structure between Oldsmobile and Buick.  Again, the view was it was better to have a defined range in the segment rather than an “Oldsmobile Deluxe” or dilute the appeal of the next rung with a lower-cost Buick.

Oakland: Oakland was unusual in that it pre-existed Pontiac, the latter introduced as Oakland’s more expensive companion but, because Pontiac proved much more successful, it would survive the later cull while Oakland would be axed.

Buick: The classic upper-middle-class brand, offering luxury and performance but without the exclusivity of a Cadillac.

Viking: Another short-lived (1929–1930) venture, Viking was the premium companion to Oldsmobile and slotted between Buick and LaSalle.

LaSalle: Best thought of as cheaper Cadillac, it was another of the brands there to avoid diluting things with an “entry level Cadillac” which of course it was in all but name.

Cadillac: The top rung, competing not only high-end domestic brands like Packard, Duesenberg and Lincoln but also the best of the Europeans.

The effects of the Great Depression meant the experiment didn’t last and GM would soon to revert to six divisions, the newcomers Viking and Marquette axed while Pontiac, which had proved both more successful and profitable than the shuttered Oakland, survived, joining LaSalle which lingered until 1940 and then there were five.  Even then five was debatably at least one too many but the ladder survived into the post-war years when economic conditions suited the structure and by the mid-1950s both Ford and Chrysler were emulating the model although for both it proved a brief fling.  By the twenty-first century, GM was down to three (Chevrolet, Buick & Cadillac), Ford two (Ford, Lincoln) and Chrysler two (Dodge, Chrysler (although they separated the pickup business as RAM)).

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman rear compartment in Medium Saddle leather.

Cadillac scrambled to respond to the implications of the Regency, offering in 1973 the d'Elegance package, a US$750 option which included a plusher interior and a bundle of otherwise optional features.  However, all the d'Elegance stuff did was match what others were doing and there was still the corporate memory of the Cadillac mystique, a hankering for the time when Cadillac had been the “standard of the world”, a reputation built in the 1930s on basic engineering such as 16-cylinder engines and maintained a generation later with cars such as the Eldorado Brougham, one time the term "Brougham" described something truly impressive.  By 1974 the world had changed and such extravagances were no longer commercially viable (in truth 400 Eldorado Broughams made for 1957 didn't make a profit either) but what could still be done was to add more "gingerbread" so for 1974, Cadillac announced the Talisman package (option code V4U).  Much more expensive than the d'Elegance and consequently that much more exclusive, the Talisman included an extended centre console, the front section housing an illumined writing tablet, the rear a storage compartment.  This had been done before but never with this opulence although it had the effect of reducing the huge car, a size which historically been a six-seater, into something strictly for four and as a marketing strategy, that made sense, indifference to practicality a signifier of wealth.  The interior was available in four colors in "Medici crushed velour" at US$1800 or in two shades in leather at US$2450 at a time when the Chevrolet Vega, GM’s entry-level sub-compact cost US$2087; "Medici crushed velour" had about the same relationship with history as Chrysler's "fine Corinthian leather".  The Talisman additionally gained matching deep-pile interior carpeting and floor-mats, a fully padded "elk grain" vinyl roof, exterior badge identifications, a stand-up, full-colour wreath & crest hood ornament and unique wheel-covers.  For those who needed more, for an additional US$85, a matching pillow and robe was available, the latter unfortunately not cut in leather.  Optioned with the leather package, a 1974 Cadillac Talisman cost about US$13,200, matching what the company charged for the even bigger Fleetwood 75 limousines.  The additional gingerbread wasn’t all that expensive to produce; what Cadillac was selling was exclusivity and the market responded, 1898 Talismans coming off the production line that year, all sold at a most impressive profit.  The interior trim choices in 1974 were:

510 Black Medici Cloth.
525 Dark Blue Medici Cloth.
546 Medium Amber Medici Cloth.
548 Dark Terra Cotta Medici Cloth.
565 Dark Blue Leather.
585 Medium Saddle Leather.

Most prized today are the relative handful trimmed in leather, the orthodoxy in the collector market that all were in Medium Saddle.  If any were sold with the Dark Blue leather, none appear now to exist and Cadillac’s records don’t list the production breakdown.

1975 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman front compartment in Dark Rosewood Medici Cloth.

The leather option didn’t survive beyond the first season, four colors of velour the only Talisman choices in 1975 and gone too was the rear-console extension, reportedly because of feedback from dealers who noted the comments from customers expressing a preference for the flexibility to carry an additional passenger.  It was an era of high inflation so the deletion of the hardware secured only a two-dollar reduction in price and in the gloomy economic climate of 1975, sales dropped to 1238.  The big platform, which had seemed so appropriate a half-decade earlier, was in its last days, a dinosaur unable to adapt to the shock of a strange new environment but for its final fling there were minor improvements.  Although engine size had been increased to 500 cubic inches (8.2 litres), output was down to 190 horsepower (although this was less of a drop than it may appear from the 365 of 1971 because of the change in quoting power from gross to net) but the addition of catalytic convertors and, later in the year, fuel injection, did allow some retuning, improving drivability.  The bumpers were the biggest yet and fuel economy, although improved, remained dire.  The interior trim choices in 1975 were:

19B Black Medici Cloth.
29B Dark Blue Medici Cloth.
51B Medium Maize Medici Cloth.
79B Dark Rosewood Medici Cloth.

1976 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman front compartment in Black Medici Cloth.

The end of the line came in 1976, the final year for the big Cadillacs which had evolved over three quarters of a century.  With so much corporate energy devoted to the new, smaller cars, on the dinosaurs changes were restricted mostly to trim and detailing although the newly-lawful rectangular headlights, adopted throughout the industry to permit lower hood (bonnet) lines and thereby (slightly) slipperier aerodynamics, were spliced in.  Inside, new interior colors were offered and simulated Rosewood replaced the equally fake distressed pecan vinyl appliqués on the instrument panel, doors, and rear quarter trim.  Inspired by the Oldsmobile Regency which had caused such a stir in 1972, soft, thickly pillowed seats were now standard and the d'Elegance package with its accoutrements could still be added but bowing out after 1976 would be both the 500 cubic inch V8 and the Talisman package, available for its swansong in five colors at US$1813.  GM made no secret this was the last year of the big Cadillacs and sales spiked, a new record of 309,139 cars of which 1200 were Talismans.  Befitting the funereal atmosphere, the interior trim choices in 1976 were restricted to somber black & blue:

19E Black Medici Cloth.
26E Dark Blue Medici Cloth.



1976 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman.