Sandbag

Sandbag (pronounced sand-bag)

(1) A bag filled with sand, used in water-proofing, fortification, as ballast etc.

(2) Such a bag used as a weapon.

(3) Violently to set upon or attack from or as if from ambush (archaic).

(4) To coerce or intimidate, to make threats (archaic).

(5) Sometimes by metaphor, by virtue of added weight, to reduce performance in competitive sport; a form of cheating.

(6) To conceal or misrepresent one's true position, potential, or intent in order to gain an advantage.

(7) In commerce, to obstruct an unwelcome takeover bid by prolonging talks in the hope an acceptable bidder will appear.

1580-1590: A compound of the nouns sand + bag.  Sand was from the Middle English sand, from the Old English sand, from the Proto-Germanic samdaz.  In other European languages there was the West Frisian sân, Dutch zand, German Sand, Danish, Swedish and Norwegian sand, thought all related to the primitive sámh₂dhos.  Bag was from the Middle English bagge, borrowed from the Old Norse baggi (bag, pack, satchel, bundle), from the primitive bhak and thought related are the Welsh baich (load, bundle) and the Ancient Greek βάσταγμα (bástagma) (load)).  In Latin there was sabulum, and in Ancient Greek ἄμαθος (ámathos) from sem (to pour).  English root is hinted at by The Old English dialectal samel (sand bottom), the Old Irish to-ess-sem (to pour out), the Latin sentina (bilge water), the Lithuanian sémti (to scoop) and the Ancient Greek ἀμάω (amáō) (to gather) & ἄμη (ámē) (water bucket)).  The verb was first noted in 1860 with the simple meaning “provide someone with sandbags".  The meaning "pretend weakness" apparently first used in 1950s motor racing appears not to have been in common use until the 1970s, with most sources linking use to the poker-playing sense of "refrain from raising at the first opportunity in hopes of raising more steeply later", a use first documented in 1940.  The idea of the sandbag as a weapon (used by a sandbagger) dates from 1882 with the resultant “sandbagged” emerging in 1887.

Sandbagging

Lindsay Lohan in Chief Sandbagger tank top.

Sandbagging is a form of cheating, usually in sport but also in commerce.  It involves deliberately under-performing at certain stages to maximise the benefits gained when later performing to full-potential.  The metaphor is based on the notion of being impeded by the extra weight of carrying a sandbag, analogous with the old “lead in the saddle” from horse racing when unscrupulous owners would add to a well-priced mount’s weight if they were betting on a longer-odds starter.  In motor racing, sandbagging described drivers who, in handicapped events, deliberately recorded slow times in qualifying to gain a more advantageous starting position or a less onerous handicap in the event proper.  The authorities responded with penalties or disqualification if race-day performance improved on the qualifying mark by more than a defined measure.  Literal sandbagging proved useful as a stabilizing device in many of the big-engine machines during the (1964-1974) US muscle car era during which some of the things generated close up to five-hundred horsepower, delivered to the road through primitive drive systems with over sixty percent of their weight sitting over the front wheels.  On street, strip and track, two or more bags of sand in the trunk (boot) greatly improved traction and balance.  A specialised need for the bag in the boot is in the stunt car business for those times when there’s a need to have a vehicle fly through the air, landing safely on four wheels at the end of descent.  To do that, object will fly best if its weight-distribution is a close as possible to 50-50 but, most cars being front-heavy, there’s a tendency to nosedive, the traditional fix being sandbags in the boot.  Cement is sometimes used instead of sand and the need for such tricks is diminishing with advances in CGI.

Before sandbagging: A tendency to nosedive.

The CBS comedy TV series The Dukes of Hazzard was aired between 1979-1985.  The show did feature actors and plot lines (analysts have suggested there were either five or six plots and these, with tweaks and variations on the themes, were recycled in all the 147 episodes shot) but for many the most memorable character was the 1969 Dodge Charger.  Introduced as a 1968 model, it replaced its rather slab-sided predecessor which, after an encouraging debut in 1966, had suffered a precipitous drop in sales the next season.  The re-styling for 1968 transformed not only the appearance but also its popularity and sales more than quadrupled even though some of the extravagant interior appointments (the eye-catching electroluminescent instrument lighting and the four bucket seats with a full-length centre console) which two years earlier had attracted such interest were no longer offered.  The sleek new lines however more than made up for the cost-cutting although belying the wind-cheating appearance, the shape wasn’t that aerodynamically efficient, something the corporation would twice seek to rectify in the quest for success on the circuits.  The first attempt was relatively modest and proved inadequate but the second worked so for the one season it was used the sanctioning body outlawed the entire concept.  Known as the first of the "aero cars", it was the most radical a manufacturer had ever attempted.  It still is.

After sandbagging: Perfect weight distribution.

In the course of production, over 300 Dodge Chargers were used in the series, the rate of attrition as one might expect from the number of car-jumping stunts involved.  Early in the show’s life, when 1968-1969 (the 1968 cars were easily modified to appear as next year’s model for filming purposes) Dodge Chargers were just cheap used cars and readily available, the supply-line of replacements wasn’t a significant part of the budget but by the early 1980s, the cars were becoming scarce and increasingly expensive, something at least partly attributable to the impact of the TV series.  There was in the early 1980s also a sudden drop in the cost of gas as the (somewhat misleadingly named) “oil glut” depressed the price of oil and gas-guzzlers like the Chargers, with their satisfying, if rather primitive characteristics, enjoyed a renaissance.  In response, the producers responded with the tricks used in the pre CGI (computer-generated imagery) era, re-using old footage and staging some of the more distant scenes with scale models.  The viewers seemed not to mind.

Perfect weight distribution: Jessica Simpson (b 1980) in promotional shot for The Dukes of Hazzard (2005), said to be among the worst films ever made.  The viewers seemed not to mind.

Joe Biden, sandbagged in Colorado.

In June 2023, Joe Biden (b 1942; US president since 2021) told reporters he'd "been sandbagged" after tripping over “a sandbag” after handing out diplomas on a stage at the US Air Force (USAF) Academy’s Falcon Stadium in Colorado Springs, Colorado.  The footage of the event was all from one camera angle and on that no sandbag was evident but some quickly observed even if there wasn’t really a sandbag, the president clearly believes there was one and under some theories of cognition, that means the same thing.  The eighty year old president was quickly picked up by an air force officer and two members of the Secret Service, the White House later issuing a statement saying he was “fine after the fall” and USAF sources confirmed “two small black sandbags were used to support the teleprompter”.

Joe Biden has suffered repeated difficulties in trying to board Air Force One using the red-carpeted stairs, once infamously tripping over three times during one ascent (left).  He now uses the "baby stairs" in the nose.  Note the Secret Service officer at the bottom of the stairs: he is the "designated catcher".

So sandbags have been added to the checklist his Secret Service detail goes through before he’s allowed to make any public appearances.  Apparently surfaces on which the president will walk (or stumble or shuffle depending on the time of day) have to be as free from obstacles and obstructions as is possible and not be at all slippery.  A roll-up mat is now part of the inventory carried in the presidential motorcade, un-rolled whenever surfaces appear “potentially challenging”.  Anything other than sitting down is obvious fraught with danger and it’s not clear if he’ll again be allowed to ride a bike after tumbling to the ground when his feet somehow got “tangled in the pedals”.  His difficulties with stairs have been well documented and it’s of note he now uses only a rarely used forward exit when boarding or alighting from Air Force One.  Even that doesn’t guarantee he won’t trip up but from these stairs it’s a shorter fall to the tarmac so there’s that.

Capillary

Capillary (pronounced kap-uh-ler-ee)

(1) Pertaining to or occurring in or as if in a tube of fine bore.

(2) Resembling a strand of hair; hair-like; slender.

(3) In physics, pertaining to capillarity; of or relating to the apparent attraction or repulsion between a liquid and a solid, observed in capillarity.

(4) In anatomy, pertaining to a capillary or capillaries; one of the minute blood vessels between the terminations of the arteries and the beginnings of the veins.  Capillaries form a network throughout the body for the exchange of oxygen, metabolic waste products, and carbon dioxide between blood and tissue cells.

(5) As capillary tube, any small-bore tube.

(6) A fine hole or narrow passage in any substance (technical use only).

1570–1580: From the Middle English, from the Latin capillāris (of or pertaining to hair), the construct being capill(us) (hair) + -ary.  The suffix –ary (of or pertaining to) was a back-formation from unary and similar, from the Latin adjectival suffixes -aris and -arius; appended to many words, often nouns, to make an adjective form.   Use was not restricted to words of Latin origin.  The etymology of the Latin capillus (hair (of the head)) is contested.  Although a relationship to caput (head) seems obvious, some doubt the connection "for formal reasons”, essentially because capillus is a diminutive, and would translate as “little head”, a perhaps tenuous relationship with “hair” but certainly not impossible and the dispute continues.  The Latin word was borrowed by early fourteenth century English as capillar (hair-like) to describe veins.

In the modern science of anatomy, used to describe “tube-like structures having so small a bore that water will not run through them”, use dates from 1742, an extension of the noun use from 1606 used to describe a “minute blood vessel”.  From 1806, experientialists used the word to describe the phenomena of the rise of liquids in tubes etc by the processes of surface tension; because the observational studies were conducted in capillary vessels, this came first to be called capillary attraction (1813).  Capillary as the "state or condition of being capillary" was first documented in 1806, from the French capillarité, from Latin capillāris.  In science, the derived terms include magnetocapillary, optocapillary & polycapillary.  The noun plural is capillaries and intercapillary is the adjective

The smaller, the bore of the tube, the greater the effect of the interaction of forces.

The process behind the counter-intuitive idea of water flowing uphill, even vertically, is called capillary action (and also capillary motion, capillarity, capillary effect, wicking or capillary attraction).  It describes the process by which liquids contained in narrow spaces are able, without the assistance of, or even in opposition to external forces such as pressure or gravity are able to move upwards.  It occurs because of the reaction of intermolecular forces between the liquid and surrounding solid surfaces; if the internal diameter of the tube is sufficiently small, then a combination of surface tension (caused by cohesion within the liquid) and adhesive forces between the liquid and wall will propel the liquid.  When the intermolecular attractive forces between the liquid and the solid surrounding surfaces (adhesive forces) are stronger than the cohesive forces within the liquid, the fluid will be pulled up the liquid column up until there is a sufficient mass of liquid for gravitational forces to counteract these forces.

The circular economy of botanical water management.

Plants use capillary action to draw water from roots and stems upwards to the trunk.  The molecules of the water are attracted to the molecules already  inside of the nominally solid stem from where they are dispersed throughout the plant.  Again, it’s the product of the relationship between adhesion and cohesion, and for plants, adhesion allows for the water to stick to their organic tissues while cohesion keeps the water molecules together.  Surface tension is the effect of intermolecular attraction that causes liquids to form a top or outer layer that behaves like a thin film of sorts.  Surface tension is responsible for the shape of water drops and for holding the structures together as plants soak up the water.  This is the circular economy of plants.

Capillary attraction and the Thorny Devil (from a BBC documentary).

Dwelling uniquely in central & western Australia, the thorny devil (Moloch horridus) is a lizard which is often seen when around 50-75 mm (2-3 inches) in length but can grow as large as 200 mm (8 inches).  Long-lived (up to 20 years), although fearsome in appearance, they are placid creatures with few apparent interests other than finding the ants and so voracious is their appetite that thousands can be consumed in a single meal.  The presence of people seems little to disturb them and thorny devils will sit on someone's shoulder for some time, apparently content and without any sign of distress.  Other than ants, their main need is for fresh water which is harvested through the channels formed in its skin between the spines.  It can collect moisture either from allowing dew to settle or by finding a water source and standing still, allowing gravity and capillary action to operate to let the fluid reach the mouth.  During rainfall events (which do happen in the Australian deserts), the process is rapid but in dry periods capillary action permits water to be taken up from damp sand and this can for months at a time be the creature’s primary method of intake.

Splatter

Splatter (pronounced splat-er)

(1) To splash and scatter upon impact.

(2) An act or instance of splattering, typically a spray of mud, paint, blood or other liquids which results in many small blobs, some of which may coalesce.

(3) The quantity or the residue of something so splattered; An uneven shape (or mess) created by something dispersing on impact.

(4) In film as “splatter film” or “splatter movie”, a production characterized by gory imagery, often for its own sake (something of this the type often referred to as “a splatterfest”).  Splatterpunk is either a fork or synonym depending on interpretation.  In film, the splatter ecosystem is treated by those who take such things seriously as a sub-set of the horror genre.

(5) In modern art, as “splatter art” or “splatter painting”, a technique in which paint is (variously) dripped thrown, squirted, flicked etc onto the surface (although because of its history, “drip painting” to often treated as a separate stream (or drip)).

(6) In radio, spurious emissions resulting from an abrupt change in a transmitted signal.

1760s: The origin is uncertain but it’s presumed to be a portmanteau word, the construct being spla(sh) + (spa)tter.  Splash was probably a variant of the Middle English plasch & plasche, from the Old English plæsċ (pool, puddle) and thought likely an imitative form.  It was cognate with the Dutch plas (pool, watering hole) and related to the West Frisian plaskje (to splash, splatter), the Dutch plassen (to splash, splatter) and the German platschen (to splash).  The construct of spatter was probably the Middle Low German or Dutch spatt(en) (to spout, burst) +‎ -er (the frequentative suffix) and related to spit (saliva).  Splatter, splatterdash & splattering are nouns & verbs, splatterer & splatterfest are nouns, splattered is a verb and splattery is an adjective; the noun plural is splatters.

The verb in the sense of “splash; scatter about; make a noise as of splashing water” developed from the noun and was in use by at least 1784 but the earlier splatterdash (thought a variant of spatterdash) was noted a decade-odd earlier, a development of the noun spatterdash (leather covering for the lower leg to protect from mud) from the late seventeenth century.  Splatterdash meant “in a haphazard manner; work performed in a disorganized way” and was thought (either by intent or mistake) to have evolved from or been influenced by the earlier slapdash.  The early eighteenth century splatter-faced (having a broad, flat face) was probably a perversion of platter-faced, the modern version being “plate-faced”.  Splatterpunk was in 1986 apparently coined by award-winning US writer David J Schow (b 1955), noted for his many contributions to the horror industry and the splatter fork in particular. The first known reference to its use was during his celebrated appearance at the Twelfth World Fantasy Convention in Providence, Rhode Island.  Devoted fans of the splatter movie genre often self-identify as splatterpunks.

I Know Who Killed Me (2007) was for years was a fixture on "Worst Movie Ever" lists but more recently it has built a cult following (for reasons right and wrong) and the longevity in the interest it sustains has made it one of the genre's more enduring (and profitable) titles.  It was an example of a splatter movie "cross-over" in that the splatter aspect was ancillary to the crime-focused plot.  IKWKM often appears in "midnight screenings".

The evolution of the splatter movie becomes obvious from around the early 1960s when graphical depictions of violence and increasing volumes of (fake) blood began to appear.  The censorship in most parts of the world was for most of the twentieth century quite rigorous and unlike the attitude of the authorities towards nudity & sex where some jurisdictions tended to be more permissive, the attitude towards violence in films was more restrictive.  The French Grand Guignol (1897-1962) theatre had staged naturalistic dramas in which the gore was said to be “most realistic” but it was unusual and tolerated as an example of intellectual Parisian bohemianism and in early cinema, about the only graphic depictions seen of blood and gore were those in battlefield scenes or anything intended to illustrate the savagery of non-white races.  The trend towards gratuitous violence in film grew in the post-war years and directors in the 1960s pushed the boundaries, something accommodated by different versions of films being released in different markets, some more cut than others.  Such was the flow of violent cinema that the authorities began banning distribution and it wasn’t until the 1990s the practice became uncommon in the West, the classification system restricting to adults those thought most disturbing thought sufficient.  If there’s a convenient watershed in the business, it might be The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) which lived up to its name; after that, all splatter movies can be considered a variation on the theme.

Freier Stress (Stress Free), Oil on linen by Albert Oehlen (b 1954).

Some regards splatter art as something distinct from drip painting (or action painting) while many claim not to be able to tell the difference although because drip painting has an establish place in modern art (one quite respectable according to many including those who pay millions for works by some of the most famous artists), it’s usually treated as something distinct.  As can be imagined, “splatter” is something within the rubric of abstract; throwing paint at a surface, sometimes from a distance of several feet rather than using a brush or even some form of spray, is going to results in something which, even if recognizably something, is at least at the margins going to be chaotic.

Lepanto, Panel 6, oil on canvas by Cy Twombly (1928-2011)

When drip painting burst (splattered?) upon the art world in the early post war years it was a novelty and at least since the late nineteenth century there had among the Western avant-garde been a thirst for the new and the shocking.  At the time first referred to as a form of abstract expressionism, what the early works did manage to convey was the feeling of something spontaneous, the relationship between what appears on the canvas and the physicality of the technique.  There had long been painters working in oil able to represent the gestures of their brush-strokes, usually with a graduated thickness in the layers on the surface but flinging the stuff around the room obviously brought a new violence to art.  Experimentation (and market differentiation) soon following and apart from the drippers and flingers, there were soon flickers, injectors (the use of syringes presumably thought a bit edgy), squeezers (wringing the paint from a soaked cloth), bursters (paint-filled balloons either thrown at the surface or popped from above) and even the odd spitter (paint ejected from the mouth).

Jackson Pollock (1912–1956) at work, dripping.  To the untrained eye, it's really not possible to work out where the dripping ends and the splatter begins or if it matters or if a distinction between cause and effect is helpful.  The most famous of the drip painters and one of art's genuine celebrities, Peggy Guggenheim (1898-1979) claimed he was “...the greatest painter since Picasso.”

Number 17A (1948), oil on fiberboard by Jackson Pollock.  In 2015 it sold for US$200 million which made it then the world's fifth most expensive painting.  An early work, it's thought one of the purest examples of drip painting and as soon as it appeared in the August 1949 edition of Life magazine, Jackson Pollock became famous.   

One thing about splatter art which simultaneously is (for practitioners) an attraction and (for detractors) a damnation is that the conventional skills traditionally needed by painters are not only not required but are simply irrelevant.  One of the most common complaints of the form by an unimpressed public was usually something like “That’s not art, anyone could do that.”  In terms of the techniques that’s certainly true in that anyone can drip, fling, flick, inject, squeeze or burst (most might draw the line at the spit) but the matter for judgment remains what was produced, not how it was done.  It’s the critics who rule on these things and those specializing in splatter (and related techniques) claim the ability to tell the good form the bad and the masterpiece for everything else.  Of course the language used between such critics is something like that of a sect in that while the words might be familiar, the meanings conveyed and the knowledge known secrets concealed from all but the chosen few and their views can be the difference between a piece being worthless or selling at auction for a sex figure sum.  We really have to take their word for it.

Times Square (2022), oil on canvas being painted by Paul Kenton (b 1968).

Paul Kenton describes himself as a “cityscape artist” and combines variations of splatter techniques with some more traditional forms of “editing” to produce works which are closer to the more traditional forms of abstract expressionism than the drip genre defined by Pollock.

Siren

Siren (pronounced sahy-ruhn)

(1) In classical mythology, one of several sea nymphs, sometimes depicted as part-woman, part-bird and sometimes as as sisters, who lured mariners to destruction by seductive singing.

(2) A woman who sings sweetly and charms.

(3) In slang, a seductively beautiful or charming woman, especially one who beguiles men; a seductress, temptress or vamp; a dangerous women who preys on the weaknesses of men.

(4) An acoustical instrument for producing musical tones, consisting essentially of a disk pierced with holes arranged equidistantly in a circle, rotated over a jet or stream of compressed air, steam, or the like, so that the stream is alternately interrupted and allowed to pass.

(5) An variation of this implement which makes a piercingly loud sound and used as a whistle, fog signal, or warning device; the sound made by such a device.

(6) In zoology, (1) any of several aquatic, eel-like salamanders of the family Sirenidae, having permanent external gills, small forelimbs, and no posterior limbs, (2) a member of Sirenia, an order of mammals or (3) any of various nymphalid butterflies of the genus Hestina.

(7) Anything seductive or tempting, especially dangerously or harmfully.

(8) In music, a musical instrument (one of the few aerophones in the percussion section of the symphony orchestra).

(9) An instrument for demonstrating the laws of beats and combination tones.

(10) In astronomy & astrophysics, an astrophysical event which can be used for calculating cosmic distances. 

1300-1350: From the Middle English siren & sereyn from the Old French sereine, (the Modern French sereine dating from the twelfth century), from the Late Latin sīrēna and the Classical, Latin Sīrēn & Sīrēna, from the Ancient Greek Σειρήν (Seirḗn).  The Seirēnes were the alluring sea nymphs of classical mythology and the figurative sense of "one who sings sweetly and charms" was first noted in the 1580s although the classical descriptions of them were mangled in medieval translations, resulting in some odd and fantastical notions of their appearance and they were often conflated with mermaids.  The Vulgate (the Biblia Vulgata, the fourth century translation of the Bible which, through the choices of words and senses made by the translator had a profound effect on Christianity and Christendom) also gifted to Middle English the use of the word to describe an imaginary species of flying serpents, based on glossary explanations of the Latin sirenes in Isaiah 13:22.    In the Greek the word was used also to mean "a deceitful woman" although etymologists note that may have been literally "binder, entangler", from seira (cord, rope).  In zoology, the mammalian sense appeared first in was first attested in French in Les entretiens d'Ariste et d'Eugène (Conversations between Ariste & Eugène) by the French Jesuit priest Dominique Bouhours (1628–1702) while the use to describe the aquatic salamander was introduced in 1766 by Swedish zoologist & physician Carl Linnaeus (1707–1778 and styled as Carl von Linné after 1761) for a genus of reptiles.

The use to describe the mechanical device which "makes a warning sound" was first recorded in 1879 when they were installed on steamboats and this may have been imitative of the similar French word.  In the course of the twentieth century, the things were adapted as audible warning devices for many purposes including air raids, emergency service vehicles and fire alarms.  In schools, workplaces and other geographically large sites, they were used to mark the start and finish of shifts, meal breaks etc.  As late as the 1940s, the spelling variation sireen also existed but it (like the Elizabethan adjectives sirenean, sirenian, sirenic, sirenical & sireny) is extinct although the writer & critic John Ruskin (1819–1900 and known for his fondness for nymphs), used sirenic so with that imprimatur, some modern aesthete might be tempted to revive the form. 

Odysseus and the Sirens

In Greek mythology, the Sirens were deadly creatures who used their lyrical and earthly charms to lure sailors to their death.  Attracted by their enchanting music and voices, the seduced seafarers would sail their ships too close to the rocky coast of the nymph's island and there be shipwrecked.  Not untypically for the myths of antiquity, the sirens are said to have had many homes.  The Romans said they lived on some small islands called Sirenum scopuli while later authors place them variously on the islands of Anthemoessa, on Cape Pelorum, on the islands of the Sirenuse, near Paestum, or in Capreae.  All were places with rocky coasts and tall cliffs.

Sirens and the Night (1865), oil on canvas by William Edward Frost (1810-1877).

It was Odysseus who most famously escaped the sirens.  Longing to hear their songs but having no wish to be shipwrecked, he had his sailors fill their ears with beeswax, rendering them deaf.  Odysseus then ordered them to tie him to the mast.  Sailing past, when he heard their lovely voices, he ordered his men to release him but they tightened the knots, not releasing him till the danger had passed.  Some writers claimed the Sirens were fated to die if a man heard their singing and escaped them and that as Odysseus sailed away they flung themselves into the water and drowned.  The idea of the sirens persists in idiomatic use:  The "siren sound" is used to refers to words or something which exerts a particular compelling attraction but a "siren call" can be used of something not directly audible such as the thoughts evoked by a painting or even a concept, populism, fascism & communism all described thus at times.

The Chrysler Air Raid Siren and the Firepower V8  

According to Guinness World Records, the loudest sirens ever were the 350-odd built by Chrysler for the US government in the early 1950s and installed around the country to warn of an impending nuclear attack by the Soviet Union.  The maximum volume the devices generated was recorded (at a distance of 100 feet (30.5 m)) as 138 decibels (dB), a level which meant a human would be deafened if within 200 feet (61 m) during their operation.  Guinness noted the compressor discharge throughput at peak volume was 74 m³ (2,610 cubic feet at 7 lb per square inch) of air per second and the physics of fluid dynamics (air a fluid in this context) was such that this would have caused a sheet of paper in the path spontaneously to ignite.  By comparison the now retired supersonic airline Concorde at take-off produced noise levels between 112-114 dB at a distance of 100 feet and even the after-burner equipped military jets (F-16, F-35 etc) haven’t been recorded as generating levels as high as 138 dB.

Although there were ebbs in the tensions, the “High Cold War” is regarded as the time between the early 1950s and mid 1960s, the public perception of which was dominated by the fear of nuclear war. The US government made many preparations for such an event, notably building vast underground facilities where essential personnel (members of the administration, the Congress and their families and servants) could live until it was safe to emerge into the post- apocalypse world).  The tax-payers who paid for these facilities were of course rather less protected but the government in 1952 did install warning sirens in cities; people might still be vaporized by comrade Stalin's (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) H-Bombs but they would know it was coming so there was that.

The early version was co-developed by Chrysler and Bell Labs and named the Chrysler Bell Victory Siren which sounded optimistic but although the acoustic properties met the specification, the drawback was the devices were manually controlled and required someone physically to be there to start the thing and, being directional, rotate it so the sound would be broadcast 360^o.  The obvious flaw was that were there to be a nuclear attack in the area, the job-description was self-sacrificial, something comrade Stalin would doubtless have thought just the part of the cost of war with the unfortunate soul posthumously to be awarded the coveted Герой Советского Союза (Hero of the Soviet Union) decoration.  However, neither the White House or the Pentagon like the optics of that and revised specifications were issued.

Photograph by Rob Storms of Chrysler Air Raid Siren atop Rochester Fire Department Maintenance Building, Rochester, Monroe County, New York.

Chrysler responded with a more elaborate device which was automated and remotely administrated, the Chrysler Air Raid Siren introduced in 1952.  It was powered by the corporation’s new 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) Hemi-head V8, rated at what was then a stellar 180 HP (134 kW), a three-stage compressor added to increase output.  Instead of demanding a potentially doomed operator, there was a control panel connected (with nothing more than the two-pair copper cables which became familiar as Cat3) to dedicated phone lines so it could be activated either by local civil defense authorities or the military.  The big V8 provided sufficient power to both increase the dB and the geographical coverage, the siren able to be heard over an area of some 15.8 square miles (41 km³), an impressive number given the electric sirens used today for tornado and tsunami warnings have an effective footprint of only some 3.9 square miles (10 km³).

Chrysler Air Raid Siren being delivered, 1953.

In 1952, there was no engine better suited to the task than Chrysler’s new “FirePower” V8.  Applying their wartime experience building a number of high-output, multi-cylinder engines (the most remarkable a V16 aero-engine rendered obsolete by jet technology before it could be used), the FirePower featured hemispherical combustion chambers and was the corporation’s first use of overhead-valves.  Both designs had been around for decades but in time, Chrysler would make a (trade-marked) fetish of “Hemi”, continuing cheerfully to use the name for a range of V8s introduced in 2003 even though they were no longer a true hemi-head, the design unable to be adapted to meet modern exhaust emission laws.  The so-called “third generation” Hemi remains available still although how long it will last will be a matter of the interplay of politics and demand.  Doubtless, it’s on Greta Thunberg’s (b 2003) hit-list and that she and the engine debuted in the same year will impress her not at all.

Chrysler FirePower 392 cubic inch V8 in 1957 Chrysler 300C Convertible.

The FirePower was first sold in 1950 in 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) form, growing over the decade first to 354 (5.8) and then 392 (6.4) before being retired in 1959, the wedge-headed alternative with increased displacement a cheaper path to power.  Chrysler and Imperial shared the engines but remarkably, in an approach which today must shock accountants and efficiency experts, the companion divisions (De Soto & Dodge) produced nine different hemi-head V8s with capacities between 241 (4.0) and 345 (5.6) with relatively little commonality of components between them all.  The last of the FirePowers were noted also for being one of the first offered with electronic fuel injection which offered real advantages over the mechanical systems then available in a handful of models in Europe and the US but the technology was then too fragile to be reliable and most of the 16 sold (reputedly all but one) were recalled and retro-fitted with a pair of faithful four barrel carburettors.  In 1964, the hemi-head was revived for a racing engine and, to satisfy the regulatory body which had been unimpressed with the use of such a thing in a series for “stock” cars, it was made available to the public between 1966-1971, this time actually called “Hemi”.  In 426 cubic inch (7.0 litre) form, it was this iteration which built the reputation which Chrysler still exploits.

Some 350 Chrysler Air Raid Sirens were built, all by the Marine & Industrial Engine division based in Trenton, Michigan, some still in service as late as the 1970s.  During the era of détente, the last were retired, some sold to museums or collectors while some were just abandoned because, mounted atop tall buildings to maximize their acoustic coverage, the cost of removal far exceed their value as units or scrap.  Three fully functioning Chrysler Air Raid Sirens still exist, one in a remote part of Texas where it’s safe to stage the occasional demonstration of the sound.  During these displays, the clear zone (minimum safe distance) extends 320 feet (97.5 m) but even at this range, anyone standing directly in front of the projection horns would find the experience uncomfortable, prolonged exposure likely to damage one’s hearing.  Although directional, there’s much “sound soak” otherwise in the proximity in the device just operating the siren from the side control panel requires a minimum hearing protection of 30 dB.

Lindsay Lohan as a siren; it would seem almost a calling.

One collector attracted to them was Don Garlits (b 1932) who in the post-war years was among the most innovative and successful drivers and builders in the sport of drag-racing which became wildly popular and it was with Chrysler Hemis he build his reputation.  In 1997, a documentary crew from the UK visited Garlits and saw one of the old sirens sitting neglected in the storeroom where it’d sat for decades after having spent some twenty years in the salt-laden air atop a Florida high-rise.  Remarkably, after doing little more than connecting a battery and checking the oil and coolant, once a carburetor had been bolted on with a can of gasoline (petrol) rigged up, it started almost immediately.  What was most surprising was that it had never before run on gasoline because the sirens had always used propane.  As Garlits over the decades discovered a ¼ mile at a time, the FirePower was a tough old thing.

Chrysler Air Raid Siren at the Don Garlits Museum of Drag Racing, re-awakened after decades, 1997.

Limbo

Limbo (pronounced lim-boh)

(1) In (informal) Roman Catholic theology, a region on the border of hell or heaven, serving as the abode after death of unbaptized infants (limbo of infants) and of the righteous who died before the coming of Christ (limbo of the fathers, or limbo of the patriarchs); often with initial capital letter.

(2) A place or state of oblivion to which persons or things are regarded as being relegated when cast aside, forgotten, past, or out of date.

(3) An intermediate, transitional, or midway state or place.

(4) A place or state of imprisonment or confinement.

(5) A dance from the West Indies (originally restricted to men), in which the dancer bends backward from the knees and moves with a shuffling step under a horizontal bar that is lowered after each successive pass.  Among university under-graduates (and other disreputable types), the activity is now often combined with drinking contests where the bar's height is inversely proportional to the contestant’s consumption of alcohol.

(6) Used loosely, a synonym for oblivion, nothingness or nowhere.

(7) In the slang of the military slang, a demilitarized zone (DMZ).

(8) A colloquial form used to refer to a Limburger, a person from Limburg (the southernmost of the twelve provinces of the Netherlands; the French form being Limbourgeois).

1300–1350: From the Middle English, from the Medieval Latin phrase in limbō (“on hell's border” literally “on the edge”), the being construct in + limbō, ablative of limbus (edge, border) the term in Medieval Latin best translated as a “place bordering on hell”.  The West Indian English limba (to bend, easily bending) is relatively recent, emerging 1955-1960 and is of uncertain origin but most etymologists suggest it likely came from Jamaica, probably an alteration of limber as it is a test of physical agility.  Limbo is a noun & verb, limbo-like is an adjective (limbolike is a registered trademark and thus a noun), limboed & limboing are verbs; the noun plural is limbos or limboes.

Medieval conjecture which became informal theology

Surprisingly, despite the place it has in language and popular imagination, limbo has never formerly been part of Roman Catholic doctrine and was a bit of a medieval fudge.  It was championed by Italian Dominican friar, philosopher & theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), taking hold in the western Church and perhaps most influential in the popularity was the Italian Dante (Dante Alighieri (circa 1265–1321) who, in his Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)) used limbo as the resting place for virtuous pagans.  Dante sticks in the mind.

In April 2007, early in his papacy, Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022) authorized the publication of “The Hope of Salvation for Infants Who Die without Being Baptised” which some suggested appeared to render defunct limbo, the place centuries of tradition and much teaching held was the place the souls of babies who die without baptism were sent.  An explanatory memorandum from the Church’s International Theological Commission accompanied the document, suggesting it was issued to correct what was “…an unduly restrictive view of salvation”.

The commission however stressed there was no change to Church doctrine.  It remains Church teaching that baptism removes original sin which stains all souls since the fall from grace in the Garden of Eden and that its conclusions should not be interpreted as questioning original sin or “…used to negate the necessity of baptism or delay the conferral of the sacrament”.  Instead, the document merely notes “… God is just and merciful and would not …exclude infants, who have no personal sins, from eternal happiness… from the kingdom of heaven”.  It added the need for publication was not without urgency because the number of “…non-baptised infants has grown considerably, and therefore the reflection on the possibility of salvation for these infants has become urgent”.

Christ in Limbo (1510), one of a series of twelve woodcuts (eleven scenes and a title page) from The Large Passion by Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528).

In theology, limbo had long been understood in two senses:  Firstly (denoted as limbus partum) as the temporary place of rest for the souls of the just awaiting the salvation of the Messiah and secondly (limbus infantium or limbus puerorum), as the final state of the souls of those who died without baptism yet without mortal sin.  Because the Church never officially defined this as doctrine, it’s regarded as theological supposition or, as Benedict put it “medieval conjecture”, constructed probably to avoid the creation of a loophole which unworthy sinners and lawyers might exploit to get into heaven.  All the same, scripture does seem explicit, Jesus teaching that no one “can enter into God’s kingdom without being begotten of water and Spirit” (John 3:5), thus the old assertion in the old Catechism that God Himself “…affirms that Baptism is necessary for salvation.” 

The term "in limbo" is now used to describe an uncertain, undecided, transitional (though not indeterminate) state or condition and can be applied to people, things or concepts.

In Constantinople, because the Byzantines were never as in thrall of Augustine as the folk in Rome, Limbo never really bothered the many but over the centuries, the issue attracted the attention of notables.  Saint Gregory Nazianzen (circa 329–390) implied somewhere like limbo might exist, believing the unfortunate infants would neither “…be admitted by the just judge to the glory of Heaven nor condemned to suffer punishment” and Tertullian (155–circa 220) before and Saint Ambrose (circa 340–397) after, concurred.  Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430) was more stern and said there was no limbo, there was just Heaven and Hell and that of course unbaptized souls are sent to Hell because they were born in original sin and nor could they go to Purgatory since that is a pathway to Heaven.  All he would concede was of those in Hell, the torment of infants would be the mildest although he didn't go into detail.  Eight-hundred odd years later, Aquinas was more generous, noting the original sin was committed by the parents and not by the child and since (1) Hell was the place where unrepentant mortal sinners are sent for eternal punishment (2) only the baptized could enter Heaven, then (3) the souls of unbaptized children must go somewhere else and here was the (admittedly shaky) foundation of limbo.  In a quite modern flourish, Aquinas helpfully added that because they’d never been born, the infants would never have learned of the glories of Heaven so, not knowing what they’d missed, they’d probably find limbo rather nice.  It was a fudge worthy of any Lambeth conference.

Luca Signorelli (circa 1444-1523), The Resurrection of the Flesh (1499-1502) Fresco Chapel of San Brizio, Duomo, Orvieto.

The issue didn’t go away and in the eighteenth century, a radical group of neo-Augustinites, a kind of Romish version of the Republican Party's Freedom Caucus and known as the Jansenists, rejected limbo, the idea of which had for hundreds of years provided comfort to grieving parents, forcing Pope Pius VI (1717–1799; pope 1775-1799) in 1794 to issue the Papal Bull Auctorem Fidei (Of our Faith), condemning, inter alia, the denial that there is a place “which the faithful generally designate by the name of limbo for children”.  It was a rare official mention of limbo but well short of a definitive statement.  Interest was renewed in the twentieth century but Pope Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958), hardly one fond of radical change, in 1943 issued a statement in the Holy See’s periodic gazette again neither defining nor rejecting limbo.  

So, press releases aside, the commission’s document suggests in the eight centuries between Aquinas and Benedict XVI, in limbo, not much has changed; the Catechism still asserts only that children who die before baptism are entrusted into the mercy of God.  Benedict XVI, no stranger to dancing on the head of a pin, seemed both to clarify and cloud the waters by saying limbo was only ever “medieval conjecture” and given there is no explicit answer from Scripture, people seem still free to make of it what they will.