Boomerang

Boomerang (pronounced boo-muh-rang)

(1) A bent or curved piece of tough wood used by some of the Indigenous peoples of Australian as a throwing stick (and for other purposes), one form of which can be thrown so as to return to the thrower.  Such throwing sticks have also been found in archaeological digs in other places.

(2) Based on the use Indigenous peoples of Australia, an object in the shape of a flat curved air-foil that spins about an axis perpendicular to the direction of flight, used for various purposes including sport, training and aeronautical purposes.

(3) In design, anything using the boomerang shape (not always symmetrically)

(4) Something which in flight assumes the shape of a boomerang, such as the “boomerang kick” in certain football codes.

(5) In theatre and other stage environments, a mobile platform (mobile and height-adjustable) used for setting or painting scenery.

(6) In theatre and other stage environments, a batten, usually suspended vertically in the wings, used for mounting lighting units.

(7) In theatre and other stage environments, a device for changing the color of a follow-spot(light).

(8) In psychology, as “boomerang effect”, a strong opposing response caused by attempts to restrict a person's freedom or change their attitudes.

(9) In pathology, as “boomerang dysplasia”, a lethal osteochondrodysplasia in which the bones of the arms and legs are congenitally malformed into the shape of a boomerang.

(10) In air force (originally Royal Air Force (RAF)) slang, the early return of an aircraft from an aborted mission, often attributer to mechanical or other technical problems.

(11) A cocktail made with rye whiskey and Swedish punsch.

(12) Figuratively, something or someone which come backs or returns (as the boomerang behaves when correctly thrown) and when applied to people used especially of those who habitually return (often as “serial boomeranger”).

(13) Something (physical and otherwise, such as a scheme, statement or argument) which causes harm to the originator (the idea of a “rebound” or “backfire”).

(14) The action of coming back, returning or backfiring:

1827: From būmariny (missile weapon used by Aborigines), the recorded phonetic form of a word in one of the now extinct languages spoken by the Dharuk people native to an area in New South Wales now known to geographers as the Sydent basin.  A word pronounced as wo-mur-rang was noted in NSW in 1798 which may have been related but there’s no documentary evidence.  Boomerang is a noun & verb; boomeranger is a noun, boomeranged & boomeranging are verbs, the noun plural is boomerangs.

Benson Microfibre Boomerang Pillow. The manufacturers claim the shape is adaptable to all sleeping positions and provides additional support for joints and relieves pressure points.  It’s also ideal for reading, tablet or laptop use in bed.

The verb use in the sense of “throw a boomerang” seems to have come into use in the 1800s while the figurative sense of “fly back or return to a starting point” was in use by the early twentieth century.  A “boomerang baby”, “boomerang child” or boomerang kid” is one who returns to live in the family home after a period of independent living and known collective as the “boomerang generation”, the phenomenon noted in many countries and associated with financial distress, related especially to the cost of housing.

Indigenous Australian boomerangs from the collections of the Australian National Museum: In pigmented wood (left), a hooked, "number 7" by Yanipiyarti Ned Cox (centre) and with carving of horse and cow (right).

For the Indigenous (Aboriginal) peoples of Australia, the boomerang is as old as creation and since white settlement it has become also a symbol of the enduring strength of Aboriginal culture.  Although no written form of language (in the structured sense used elsewhere) evolved among them, an oral tradition now known “the Dreaming” (apparently no longer “Dreamtime”) extends from the past into the present. In the Dreaming, many of the physical formations of the (lakes, rivers, rock structures, mountains etc) were created when Ancestors threw boomerangs and spears into the earth.  Although the boomerang of the popular imagination is the familiar chevron shape, during the nineteenth century almost 300 language groups were identified by anthropologists and the construction of boomerangs varied, the divergences dictated mostly by the prevailing environment: Larger, heavier boomerangs were associated with inland and desert people while the lighter versions were thrown by coastal and high-country inhabitants.  Despite the perceptions, most were of the non-returning variety and were used as hunting weapons for the killing of birds and game including emu, kangaroo and other marsupials.  Not only was the boomerang a direct-impact device but the technique was also noted of a hunter making a boomerang ricochet off the ground to achieve an ideal angle.  The early observers recorded in skilled hands (and over thousands of years those skills would have been well-honed) the boomerang could be effective when hunting prey at a range up to 100 yards (90 m).

Back To Me (Cavalier's Boomerang Club Mix, 2020) by Lindsay Lohan.

Combination tactics were also observed.  When hunting for birds, a returning boomerang might be thrown above a flock of ducks to simulate the effect of a hovering bird of prey, inducing fright which would make the birds fly into nets set up in their flight path or, if within range, a hunter could cast a non-returning boomerang in the hope of a strike.  A special application and one which relied on a design with none of the famous aerodynamic properties was in the harvesting of fish, heavy boomerangs effective killing weapons of in areas of high tidal variation where fish became trapped in rock pools.   They were also Battle-weapons, used both to throw from some distance and in close combat, the types seen including small, hand-held “fighting sticks” device and some even two yards (1.8 m) in length.  Remarkably, the much the same implements served also as digging sticks used to forage for root and could be used to make fire, the familiar idea of “rubbing sticks together”.  Although these practical may have declined in significance as Western technology has been absorbed, boomerangs remain a prominent feature in Aboriginal dance and music.

Since the techniques developed for the shaping of Perspex and other plastics were (more or less) perfected during World War II (1939-1945), they’ve been widely adopted in industrial mass-production, for better and worse.  One thing made possible was boomerang-shaped taillights on cars which for years were about the most avant-garde of their type although of late, designers have been unable to resist the contortions and complexity made possible by the use of LEDs (light emitting diode).  Some critics insist the “boomerang” tag should be applied only to something in the shale of the “classic” boomerang and that anything asymmetric is properly a “hockey stick” but most seem content with the label.

Top row, left to right: 1969 Pontiac Bonneville, 1970 Hillman Avenger and 1967 Plymouth Barracuda.  Those which point "up" probably work better than those pointing "down" because the latter imposes a "droopiness".

Middle row, left to right: 1967 Chrysler Valiant VE Safari (Wagon), 1967 Chrysler Valiant VE Sedan and 1962 Pontiac Bonneville.  Strangely, although the sedan and wagon versions of the VE Valiant both used the boomerang shape, the moldings were different.

Bottom row, left to right: 1958 Edsel Bermuda station wagon, 1960 Chrysler New Yorker and 1975 Mazda RX-5.  The Edsel's tail lights worked as indicators and because the boomerang shape had link with the detailing on the rear quarter panels, when flashing, they actually "point" in the direction opposite to which the car is turning.  It was a harbinger of the Edsel's fate.

Louis Vuitton’s Fall 2014 campaign shoot with 1972 Maserati Boomerang, Giardini della Biennale, Venice.

The photo-shoot for Louis Vuitton’s Fall 2014 campaign at Venice’s Giardini della Biennale featured the 1972 Maserati Boomerang concept car.  Coordinated by Nicolas Ghesquière (b 1971; LV's women's creative director since 2013) and shot by German photographer Juergen Teller (b 1964), it was a rare appearance of the Boomerang which, designed by Giorgetto Giugiaro (b 1938), had first appeared at the Turin Motor Show as a static mock-up in Epowood (a versatile epoxy used for forming shapes) before being engineered as a fully-finished and working vehicle, built on the underpinnings of a Maserati Bora (1971-1978).  In that configuration it was displayed at the 1972 Geneva show where it was understood as one of the “high-speed wedges” of an era which included the original Lancia Stratos, the Lotus Esprit and, most influentially of all, the Lamborghini Countach, the cluster defining the template around which exotic machines would for decades be built, the design motif still apparent in today’s hypercars.  Eye-catching from the outside, the interior also fascinated with a steering wheel and gauge cluster built as a single console emerging from a distant dashboard, the wheel rotating as the gauges remained stationary.

1972 Maserati Boomerang by Giorgetto Giugiaro.

It was Italdesign, founded by Giorgetto Giugiaro which designed the Maserati 3200 GT (Tipo 338; 1998-2002), a car which, although not exciting in a way many of the marque’s earlier models had been, was an important element in the establishing Maserati’s twenty-first century reputation for functionalism and quality.  Importantly, although in production for only four of the transitional years during which ownership of the brand passed from Fiat to Ferrari and the solid underpinnings would be the basis for the succeeding Coupé and Spyder (4200 GT, Tipo M138; 2001-2007).

Maserati 3200 GT (left) and 1973 Dino 246 GTS (C&F) by Ferrari.  Round lights are better than other shapes.

It was on the 3200 GT that Italdesign used tail-lights in the shape of a boomerang, much comment upon at the time but also a landmark in that they were the first production car to be sold with taillights which were an assembly of LEDs, the outer layer the brake lights, the inner the directional indicators (flashers).  Following the contours of the bodywork and integrated with the truck (boot) lid, they were the most memorable feature on what was otherwise an inoffensive but bland execution which could have come from any factory in the Far East.  They generated much publicity but it’s hard to argue they’re better looking than the classic four round lenses known from many of the best Italians.  Like architects, designers seem often drawn to something new and ugly rather than old yet timeless, the former more likely to attract the awards those in these professions award one-another.

Northrop YB-49 in flight, California, 1952.

The aerodynamic properties of the “flying wing” have long intrigued aircraft designers.  The USAF (United State Air Force) even contemplated putting into production on of Northrop’s design but in the mid-1940s, needing a delivery system for its nuclear bombs which was a known, reliable quantity, opted instead for the Convair B-36 which they acknowledged was obsolescent but would provide a serviceable stop-gap until wings of the upcoming Boeing B-52 could be formed.  That doubtlessly was the correct decision and in the decades since, neither a military or civilian case has been made for the “flying wings”, the machines which have entered service really variations on the proven delta-wing concept but the big Northrop YB-49 & XB-35 possessed an undeniable beauty and it’s a shame all were scraped by 1953.  The air force personnel actually preferred to call them “bat bombers”.

Inquire & Enquire

Inquire (pronounced in-kwahyuhr)

(1) To seek information by questioning; to ask.

(2) To make an investigation (usually followed by into).

(3) To seek (obsolete).

(4) To question (a person) (obsolete).

1250–1300: From the Middle English enqueren & anqueren (to ask (a question), ask about, ask for (specific information); learn or find out by asking, seek information or knowledge; to conduct a legal or official investigation (into an alleged offense)), from the Latin inquīrere (to seek for), replacing the Middle English enqueren, from the Old French enquerre, also from Latin.  The construct in Latin was from in- (into) + quaerere (to seek).  The prefix -in is quirky because it can act either to negate or intensify.  The general rule is that when prepended to a noun or adjective, it reinforces the quality signified and when prepended to an adjective, it negates the meaning, the latter mostly in words borrowed from French.  The Latin prefix in- was from the Proto-Italic en-, from the primitive Indo-European n̥- (not), the zero-grade form of the negative particle ne (not) and was akin to ne-, nē & nī.  In Modern English it is from the Middle English in-, from Old English in- (in, into), from the Proto-Germanic in, from the primitive Indo-European en.  Inquiry & inquirer are nouns, inquiring is a noun, verb & adjective, inquires is a verb, inquirable & inquisitive are adjective and inquiringly is an adverb; the noun plural is inquiries.  The verb inquireth is listed by most as archaic and forms such as reinquired & reinquiring have been coined as needed.

So the in- in inquire is not related to in- (not), also a common prefix in Latin and this created a tradition of confusion which persists to this day.  In Ancient Rome, impressus could mean "pressed" or "unpressed; inaudire meant "to hear" but inauditus meant "unheard of; invocatus was "uncalled, uninvited," but invocare was "to call, appeal to".  In Late Latin investigabilis could mean "that may be searched into" or "that cannot be searched into”.  English picked up the confusion and it’s not merely a linguistic quirk because mixing up the meaning of inflammable could have ghastly consequences.  Fortunately, some of the duplicity has died out: Implume, noted from the 1610s meant "to feather," but implumed (from a decade or more earlier meant "unfeathered".  Impliable could be held to mean "capable of being implied" (1865) or "inflexible" (1734).  Impartible in the seventeenth century simultaneously could mean "incapable of being divided" or "capable of being imparted" and, surprisingly, impassionate can mean "free from passion" or "strongly stirred by passion" (used wrongly that certainly could have inintended consequences).  The adjective inanimate was generally understood to indicate "lifeless" but John Donne (1572–1631), when using inanimate as a verb meant "infuse with life or vigor." Irruption is "a breaking in" but irruptible is "unbreakable".

In addition to improve "use to one's profit", Middle English also had the fifteenth century verb improve meaning "to disprove".  To inculpate is "to accuse," but inculpable means "not culpable, free from blame".  Infestive (a creation of the 1560s, from infest) originally meant "troublesome, annoying" but by the 1620s meant "not festive".  Bafflingly, in Middle English, inflexible could mean both "incapable of being bent" or "capable of being swayed or moved".  During the seventeenth century, informed could mean "current in information" formed, animated" or "unformed, formless", an unhelpful situation the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) described as “an awkward use".  Just a bizarre was that in the mid-sixteenth century inhabited meant "dwelt in" yet within half-a-century was being used to describe "uninhabited".  Some dictionaries insist the adjectives unenquired & unenquiring really exist but there’s scant evidence of use.  A noted derivation with some history is inquisitor.  Synonyms and words with a similar sense include examine, inspect, interrogate, investigate, analyze, catechize, explore, grill, hit, knock, probe, check, prospect, pry, query, question, roast, scrutinize, search, seek & sift.

Enquire (pronounced en-kwahyuhr)

A variant form of inquire

Circa 1300: From the Middle English enqueren & anqueren, (to ask (a question), to ask about, to ask for (specific information); learn or find out by asking, seek information or knowledge; to conduct a legal or official investigation (into an alleged offense)), from the Old French enquerre (to ask, inquire about) (which persists in Modern French as enquérir) and directly from the Medieval Latin inquīrere (to seek for).  As long ago as the fourteenth century the spelling of the English word was changed following the Latin model, but, in the annoying way that happens sometimes in English, the half-Latinized enquire persists and some people have even invented “rules” about when it should be used instead of inquire.   Sensibly, the Americans ignore these suggestions and use inquire for all purposes.  In Old French the Latin in- often became en- and such was the influence on Middle English that the form spread and although English developed a strong tendency to revert to the Latin in-, this wasn’t universal, thus pairs such as enquire/inquire which is why there must always be some sympathy for those learning the language.  There was a native form, which in West Saxon usually appeared as on- (as in the Old English onliehtan (to enlighten)) and some of those verbs survived into Middle English (such as inwrite (to inscribe)) but all are said now to be long extinct.

Enquire or inquire?

Lindsay Lohan says the spelling is "inquiry" so that must be right.

The English word was re-spelled as early as the fourteenth century on the Latin model but the half-Latinized "enquire" has never wholly gone away.  Outside of North America, it's not unknown to come across documents where "inquire" & "enquire" both appear, not in tribute to a particular "rule" of use but just because it hasn't been noticed; it's probably most associated with documents which are partially the product of chunks of texts being "cut and paste".  In the US, where the enquire vs inquire "problem" doesn’t exist because inquire is universal, this must seem a strange and pointless squabble because hearing a sentence like "She enquired when the Court of Inquiry was to hold its hearings" would unambiguously be understood and if written down, there could be no confusion if the spelling forms were to appear in either order.  So,  some hold it would be a fine idea if the rest of the English-speaking world followed the sensible lead of the Americans and stuck to "inquire" but history suggests that’s not going to happen and some suggestions for a convention of use have been offered:

(1) Enquire & enquiry are "formal" words to convey the sense of "ask" whereas inquire & inquiry are used to describe some structured form of investigation (such as a "Court of Inquiry").

(2) Enquire is to be used in informal writing and inquire in formal text.

Neither of those suggestions seem to make as much sense as adopting the US spelling and probably just adds a needless layer to a simple word; enquire and inquire mean the same thing: to ask, to seek information, or to investigate. One is therefore unnecessary and enquire should be retired, simply on the basis the Americans already have and there’s lots of them.  Those who resist should follow the one golden rule which is consistency: whatever convention of use is adopted, exclusively it should be used. 

The ultimate court of inquiry, the Spanish Inquisition and the DDF

The Spanish Inquisition, conducting their inquiries.

The Tribunal del Santo Oficio de la Inquisición (Tribunal of the Holy Office of the Inquisition), known famously as the Inquisición española (Spanish Inquisition) was created in 1478 by the Roman Catholic Monarchs, King Ferdinand II (1452–1516; king of Aragon 1479-1516, king of Castile 1475-1504 (as Ferdinand V)) and Queen Isabella I (1451–1504; queen of Castile 1474-1504, queen of Aragon 1479-1504), its remit the enforcement of orthodox Church doctrine in their kingdoms.  Ostensibly established to combat heresy in Spain (though eventually its remit extended throughout the Spanish Empire), the real purpose was to consolidate the power of the monarchy of the newly unified Spanish kingdom.  Its methods were famously brutish and although many records were lost, it's thought close to two hundred-thousand individuals came to the attention of the Inquisition and as many as five-thousand may have been killed; during the tenure of Castilian Dominican friar Tomás de Torquemada (1420–1498), the first grand inquisitor, it's believed some two-thousand were burned at the stake.  Suppressed first by Joseph-Napoléon Bonaparte (1768–1844; king of Naples (1806–1808) and king of Spain (1808–1813)) in 1808, it was restored by Ferdinand VII (1784–1833; king of Spain 1808 & 1813-1830) in 1814, suppressed in 1820, and restored in 1823.  It was finally abolished in 1834 by the Spanish queen regent María Cristina de Borbón (Maria Christina of the Two Sicilies 1806–1878; queen consort of Spain from 1829-1833 and regent of the Kingdom 1833-1840).  Historians have noted that although the Spanish Inquisition didn't last into the twentieth century, there were more than echoes of its methods & techniques witnessed (on both sides) during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939).  

Rome certainly understood the need to enforce doctrine and punish heretics but they wanted control of the processes, aware even then some of the excesses were proving to be counter-productive and the imperative was to create a body under the direct jurisdiction of the Holy See.  Formed in 1542, was emerged was an institution which in recent years has had a few instances of what in commerce (and increasingly by governments too) is called "re-branding".  Originally named the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition, between 1908-1965 it was known as the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office before becoming Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), its best-known prefect (head) being the the German Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (1927–2022) who, after serving as Chief Inquisitor between 1982-2005) was elected pope as Benedict XVI, serving until his unusual (though not unprecedented) resignation in 2013 when he decided to be styled pope emeritus, living in a kind of papal granny flat in the Vatican until his death.  In 2022, the institution was re-named the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF) and despite it all, many continue to refer to it as "The Holy Office" (in public) or "The Inquisition" (in private).  There are now (even when under Cardinal Ratzinger as far as in known) no more torture chambers or burnings at the stake but the DDF remains a significant factional player in curia politics although Vatican watchers have detected a grudging softening in the DDF's expressions of doctrinal rigidity since the election of Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013). 

MRDA

MRDA (pronounced emm-ahr-dee-ey)

The abbreviation of “Mandy Rice-Davies Applies”, an aphorism used in law and politics to refer to any denial which is transparently self-interested.

1963: An allusion to the statement “Well he would, wouldn't he?”, said by Welsh model Mandy Rice-Davies (1944-2004) during cross-examination in a trial at the Old Bailey (the central criminal court for England & Wales) associated with the Profumo affair.

Lord Astor, Mandy Rice-Davies and the Profumo Affair

The context of Ms Rice-Davies’s answer was the question: “Are you aware that Lord Astor denies any impropriety in his relationship with you?” and the answer “Well he would, wouldn't he?” elicited from those in the court “some amusement”.  MDRA (Mandy Rice-Davies Applies) thus became in law and politics an aphorism used as “verbal shorthand” to refer to any denial which is transparently self-interested although it doesn’t of necessity imply a denial is untrue.  In general use, the fragment from the trial is often misquoted as “Well he would say that, wouldn't he?” because that better encapsulates the meaning without being misleading.

Mandy Rice-Davis (left) and Christine Keeler (right), London, 1963.

The Profumo affair was one of those fits of morality which from time-to-time would afflict English society in the twentieth century and was a marvellous mix of class, sex, spying & money, all things which make a good scandal especially juicy.  John Profumo (1915-2006) was the UK’s Minister for War (the UK cabinet retained the position until 1964 although it was disestablished in the US in 1947) who, then 46, was found to be conducting an adulterous affair with 19 year old topless model Christine Keeler (1942-2017) at the same time she was also enjoying trysts with a Russian spy, attached to the Soviet embassy with the cover of naval attaché.  Although there are to this day differing interpretations of the scandal, there have never been any doubts this potential Cold-War conduit between a KGB spy and Her Majesty’s Secretary of State for War represented at least a potential conflict of interest.

Dr Evatt (left), comrade Molotov (centre) and Soviet translator Alexei Pavlov, exchanging MRDAs in Russian & English, London, 1942.

MRDAs are common in courtrooms and among politicians but some became legends.  In 1954, Dr HV Evatt (1894–1965; Australian attorney-general & foreign minister 1941-1949, and leader of opposition 1951-1960), in the midst of a particularly febrile period during the Cold War, wrote a letter to comrade Vyacheslav Molotov (1890–1986; Soviet foreign minister 1939-1949 & 1953-1956) asking if allegations of Soviet espionage in Australia were true.  Comrade Molotov of course wrote back, politely denying the USSR engaged in spying anywhere.  Assured, Evatt read the letter to the parliament and the members sat for a moment stunned until, on both sides, loudly laughing.  It was a MRDA before there were MRDAs.

The Profumo affair is noted also for being at least an influence in the end of the “age of deference” in England and while that’s often probably overstated, the immediate reaction and the aftermath proved it wasn’t only across colonial Africa that a “wind of change” was blowing.  The second Lord Astor (1907–1966) was emblematic of the upper classes of England who once would have expected deference from someone like Ms Rice-Davis, someone “not of the better classes” as his lordship might have put it.  Although what came to be known as the “swinging sixties” didn’t really begin until a couple of years after the Profumo affair when the baby-boomers began to come of age, the generational shift had by then become apparent and it was something surprisingly sudden as the interest of the young switched from pop music to politics.  As recently as the 1959 election campaign, the patrician Harold Macmillan (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963) had told the working classes “most of you have never had it so good” and for the last time they would express their gratitude to their betters, delivering the Tories an increased majority, an impressive achievement for "the last of the old Edwardians" who, upon assuming the premiership in 1957 in the wake of the Suez debacle, had told the Queen he doubted his administration would last six weeks.

In the matter of Lehrmann v Network Ten Pty Limited [2024] FCA 369

Mr Justice Lee.

Justice Michael Lee (b 1965) in April 2024 handed down one of the more anticipated judgments of recent years, finding Bruce Lehrmann (b 1995), on the civil law test of the balance of probabilities, had raped Brittany Higgins (b 1993) on the sofa in a ministerial suite in Parliament House while the victim was affected by strong drink.  Apart from the heightened public interest in the verdict, lawyers were watching closely to see if there would be encouragement for those defending themselves in defamation cases, something which had been lent unexpected strength by an earlier judgment; although the matter of rape was central to the facts, Lehrmann v Network Ten was a defamation case.  However, for those who appreciate judicial findings for their use of language, Justice Lee didn’t disappoint and although neither Ms Rice-Davies nor MRDA were mentioned in his text, as he assessed the conduct and evidence of Mr Lehrmann, they may have come to mind.

Janet Albrechtsen in her study.

In his opening remarks, the judge acknowledged the case had become a cause celebre for many and that it was best described as “an omnishambles”, the construct being the Latin omni(s) (all) + shambles, from the Middle English schamels (plural of schamel), from the Old English sċeamol & sċamul (bench, stool), from the Proto-West Germanic skamul & skamil (stool, bench), from the Vulgar Latin scamellum, from the Classical Latin scamillum (little bench, ridge), from scamnum (bench, ridge, breadth of a field).  In English, shambles enjoyed a number of meanings including “a scene of great disorder or ruin”, “a cluttered or disorganized mess”, “a scene of bloodshed, carnage or devastation” or (most evocatively), “a slaughterhouse”.  As one read the judgement one could see why the judge was drawn to the word although, in the quiet of his chambers, “clusterfuck” may have been in his thoughts as he pondered the best euphemism.  Helpfully, one of the Murdoch press’s legal commentators, The Australian’s Janet Albrechtsen (b 1966; by Barry Goldwater out of Ayn Rand) who had been one of the journalists most interested in the case, informed the word nerds omnishambles (1) dated from 2009 when it was coined for the BBC political satire The Thick Of It and (2) had endured well enough to be named the Oxford English Dictionary’s (OED) 2021 Word of the Year.  The judge's linguistic flourish was a hint of things to come in what was one of the more readable recent judgments.

Noting Mr Lehrmann’s original criminal trial on the rape charge had been aborted (after having already been delayed for reasons related to the defamation matter) because of jury misconduct with a subsequent retrial not pursued because of the prosecution’s concern about the fragile mental state of the complainant, the judge observed “Having escaped the lion’s den, Mr Lehrmann made the mistake of coming back for his hat.”  In other words, Mr Lehrmann who could have walked away with no findings against him, lured by the millions of dollars to be gained, rolled the legal dice and was found to have committed rape.  He is of course not the first to fall victim to suffer self-inflicted legal injury in not dissimilar circumstances; the writers (from different literary traditions) Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) and Jeffrey Archer (b 1940) both were convicted and imprisoned as a consequence of them having initiated libel actions.  Whether Mr Lehrmann will now face a retrial in the matter of rape is in the hands of the Australian Capital Territory’s (ACT) Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP).  In such a case, it would be necessary to prove the event happened under the usual test in criminal law: beyond reasonable doubt.  Even if that isn’t pursued by the DPP, his time in courtrooms may not be over because it’s possible he may face action because of his conduct in this trial with the handling of certain documents and another unrelated matter is pending in Queensland.

In considering the evidence offered by Mr Lehrmann, the judge appears to have found some great moments in the history of MRDAs:

Commenting on his claim to having returned (after midnight following Friday evening’s hours of convivial drinking) to his Parliament House office to write papers about the French submarines and related government matters, he observed Mr Lehrmann “…hitherto had demonstrated no outward signs of being a workaholic.”  “To remark that Mr Lehrmann was a poor witness is an exercise in understatement.”

Regarding the claim Mr Lehrmann had made to someone to whom he’d just been introduced that he was “…waiting on a clearance to come through so that he could go and work at Asis.” (the Australian Security Intelligence Service; the external intelligence service al la the UK SIS (MI6) or the US CIA (although without the assassinations… as far as is known)), the judge observed she “…kept her well-founded incredulity to herself.”, such “Walter Mitty-like imaginings” demonstrating he “…had no compunction about departing from the truth if he thought it expedient.”

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011.

The reading of the judgement was live-streamed and the passage which got the loudest chuckle was in the discussion of Mr Lehrmann’s deciding whether he found Ms Higgins attractive.  In an interview on commercial television broadcast in 2023, he’d denied finding the young lady attractive, despite the existence of comments dating from 2019 indicating the opposite.  Pausing only briefly, Justice Lee delivered this news with an arched eyebrow:  “When confronted by this inconsistency, his attempt to explain it away by suggesting the attraction he felt for Ms Higgins was ‘just like [the attraction] I can find [in] anybody else in this [court]room, irrespective of gender’ was as disconcerting as it was unconvincing.”  The judge ordered to audience to suppress their laughter.

Even regarding submarines as a likely topic over drinks, his honour was sceptical: “With the exception of Mr Lehrmann, no one who gave evidence as to their time at The Dock could recall discussing Australia’s submarine contracts with France at either table. The lack of recollection of any discussion of this topic is intuitively unsurprising.  Declaiming on the topics of who was building submarines and where they were being built was not quite the repartee one would usually expect to hear over a convivial drink on a Friday night between 20 [something]-year-olds out for a good time – even if (with respect) one would not expect the badinage of the Algonquin Round Table.” (an early twentieth century, shifting aggregation of men & women of letters who met over lunch in New York’s Algonquin Hotel, their barbs and thoughts often appearing in their newspaper & magazine columns; they dubbed themselves “The Vicious Circle” and were a sort of Cliveden set without the politics.  Cliveden was a stately home in Buckinghamshire, the country seat of Lord Astor and the scene of many of the events central to the Profumo affair).

The judge was forensic in his deconstruction of Mt Lehrmann’s MRDA he returned to Parliament House after being out drinking with Ms Higgins and others in order to retrieve his keys: “If the reason Mr Lehrmann needed to return to Parliament House was to collect his keys, he could have texted his girlfriend to have her meet him at the door or called her.  Mr Lehrmann asks me to accept the proposition that it was ‘a process to get in’ to his shared flat and that to avoid this complication, he preferred to: (a) go out of his way to go back to work in the early hours; (b) lie to Parliament House security; (c) sign the necessary register; (d) be issued with a pass; (e) go through a metal detector; (f) be escorted by a security guard to his office; (g) obtain his keys from his office; (h) book another Uber; (i) go back through a Parliamentary exit; (j) meet the ride-share car; and then (k) ride home.”

Bruce Lehrmann leaving the court after the verdict was delivered.

In psychiatry, distinction is made between the “habitual” and “compulsive” liar and while this wasn’t something Justice Lee explored, he did in one passage sum up his assessment of the likely relationship to truth in anything Mr Lehrmann might say: “I do not think Mr Lehrmann is a compulsive liar, and some of the untruths he told during his evidence may sometimes have been due to carelessness and confusion, but I am satisfied that in important respects he told deliberate lies. I would not accept anything he said except where it amounted to an admission, accorded with the inherent probabilities, or was corroborated by a contemporaneous document or a witness whose evidence I accept.”

One fun footnote from the case was a non-substantive matter, Ms Lisa Wilkinson (b 1959), the Network 10 journalist at the centre of the defamation claim, objecting to being characterized as a “tabloid journalist”.  It transpired her employment history included stints with Dolly, the Australian Women’s Weekly and commercial television including the Beauty & the Beast show.  Unfortunately, she wasn’t asked to define what she thought “tabloid journalism” meant; perhaps Justice Lee decided he’d heard enough MRDAs that day.

On the basis that, on the balance of probabilities, Mr Lehrmann did rape Ms Higgins, his claim for damages against Network Ten for defamatory material earlier broadcast was dismissed.  The judge found the material indeed had the capacity to defame but because the imputations substantially were true, their defense was sustained.  So, the only millions of dollars now to be discussed concern the legal costs: who is to pay whom, the judge asking the party’s submission be handed to the court by 22 April.  Mr Lehrmann’s legal team has not indicated if they’re contemplating an appeal.

Pressing

Pressing (pronounced pres-ing)

(1) Urgent; demanding immediate attention; Insistent, earnest, or persistent.

(2) Any phonograph record produced in a record-molding press from a master.

(3) To act upon with steadily applied weight or force; to move by weight or force in a certain direction or into a certain position; to weigh heavily upon.

(4) To compress or squeeze, as to alter in shape or size.

(5) To flatten or make smooth, especially by ironing.

(6) To extract juice, sugar, oil etc by applying pressure.

(7) To produce shapes from materials by applying pressure in a mold; a component formed in a press.

(8) To bear heavily, as upon the mind.

(9) A ancient form of torture and execution.

(10) The process of improving the appearance of clothing by improving creases and removing wrinkles with a press or an iron.

(11) A memento preserved by pressing, folding, or drying between the leaves of a flat container, book or folio (usually with a flower, ribbon, letter, or other soft, small keepsake).

1300-1350: From the Middle English presing, from the Classical Latin pressāre, (frequentative of premere (past participle pressus)).  In Medieval Latin pressa was the noun use of feminine pressus, similar to Old French presser (from Late Latin pressāre).  In English, the meaning “exerting pressure" dates from the mid-fourteenth century and sense of "urgent, compelling, forceful" is from 1705.  In the sense of a machine for printing, this spread from the machine itself (1530s) to publishing houses by the 1570s and to publishing generally by 1680.  In French, pressing is a pseudo-Anglicism.

The construct was press + ing.  Press dates from the late twelfth century and was from the Middle English press & presse (throng, trouble, machine for pressing) from the Old French, from presser (to press) from the Latin pressāre, frequentative of premere (past participle pressus) and in Medieval Latin it became pressa (noun use of the feminine of pressus).  The noun press (a crowd, throng, company; crowding and jostling of a throng; a massing together) emerged in the late twelfth century and was from the eleventh century Old French presse (a throng, a crush, a crowd; wine or cheese press), from the Latin pressare.  Although in the Late Old English press existed in the sense of "clothes press", etymologists believe the Middle English word is probably from French.  The general sense of an "instrument or machine by which anything is subjected to pressure" dates from the late fourteenth century and was first used to describe a "device for pressing cloth" before being extended to "devices which squeeze juice from grapes, oil from olives, cider from apples etc".  The sense of "urgency, urgent demands of affairs" emerged in the 1640s.  It subsequently proved adaptable as a technical term in sports, adopted by weightlifting in 1908 while the so-called (full-court press) defense in basketball was first recorded in 1959.  The suffix –ing was from the Middle English -ing, from the Old English –ing & -ung (in the sense of the modern -ing, as a suffix forming nouns from verbs), from the Proto-West Germanic –ingu & -ungu, from the Proto-Germanic –ingō & -ungō. It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian -enge, the West Frisian –ing, the Dutch –ing, The Low German –ing & -ink, the German –ung, the Swedish -ing and the Icelandic –ing; All the cognate forms were used for the same purpose as the English -ing).  Pressing is a noun & verb, pressingness is a noun and pressingly is an adverb; the noun plural is pressings.

Tarpeia Crushed by the Sabines (circa 1520) by Agostino Veneziano (Agostino de' Musi; circa 1490–circa 1540).

In Roman mythology it was said that while Rome was besieged by the Sabine king Titus Tatius, the commander of the Sabine army was approached by Tarpeia, daughter of Spurius Tarpeius, commander of the Roman citadel.  Tarpeia offered the attacking forces a path of entry to the city in exchange for "what they bore on their left arms." Although it was sometimes spun that she actually meant they should cast of their shields and enter in peace, the conventional tale is she wanted their gold bracelets.  The Sabines (sort of) complied, throwing their shields (which they carried upon their left arms) upon her, pressing her until she died.  Her body was then cast from (although some accounts say buried beneath) a steep cliff of the southern summit of the Capitoline Hill which has since been known as the Rupes Tarpeia or Saxum Tarpeium (Tarpeian Rock (Rupe Tarpea in Italian)). 

Cassius Convicted of Political Wrong-Doing is Killed by Being Thrown from the Tarpeian Rock Rome (circa 1750), woodcut by Augustyn Mirys (1700–1790).

The Sabines were however unable to conquer the Rome, its gates miraculously protected by boiling jets of water created by Janus, the legend depicted in 89 BC by the poet Sabinus following the Civil Wars as well as on a silver denarius of the Emperor Augustus circa 20 BC.  Tarpeia would later become a symbol of betrayal and greed in Rome and the cliff from which she was thrown was, during the Roman Republic, the place of execution or the worst criminals: murderers, traitors, perjurors and troublesome slaves, all, upon conviction by the quaestores parricidii (a kind of inquisitorial magistrate) flung to their deaths.  The Rupes Tarpeia stands about 25 m (80 feet) high and was used for executions until the first century AD.

Pressing by elephant.

Under a wide variety of names, pressing was a popular method of torture or execution for over four-thousand years; mostly using rocks and stones but elephants tended to be preferred in south and south-east Asia.  The elephant had great appeal because, large and expensive to run, they could be maintained as a symbol of power and authority and there were few better expressions of a ruler’s authority that the killing of opponents, trouble-makers or the merely tiresome.  Properly handled, an elephant could be trained to torture or kill although, being beasts from the wild, things could go wrong and almost certainly some unfortunate souls ear-marked for nothing but the brief torture of a pressing under the elephant’s foot (for technical reasons, they don’t have hooves) ended up being crushed to death.  Even that presumably added to the intimidation and in some places in India, this means of dispatch was said to be known as Gajamoksha (based on the Gajendra Moksha (The Liberation of Gajendra (the elephant)), an ancient Hindu text in which elephants were prominent) although these stories are now thought to have been a creation of the imaginations of British writers who, in the years before, found a ready audience for fantastical tales from the Orient.  As told, a Gajamoksha seems to have been more a trampling than a pressing and the political significance of the business was it was done in public; the manufacturing of entertainment and spectacle apparently common to just about every regime in human history.  That there were public displays of torture and execution using elephants is part of the historical record but the surviving depictions seem to suggest pressing rather than trampling was the preferred method.  A trampling elephant does sound like something which may have had unintended consequences.

As a asset in the inventory, elephants were versatile and in addition to helping to pull or carry heavy loads to battlefields, they could be also a potent assault weapon and, sometimes outfitted with armor (historically of thick leather), were used in a manner remarkably close in concept to the original deployment of tanks by the British Army in 1916, charging the line, breaking up fortifications and troop formations, allowing the infantry to advance through the gaps.  While opponents being trampled underfoot by a charging elephant may not have been the prime military directive, it was a useful adjunct.  For those who survived, it may only have been a stay of execution and while there’s little to suggest elephants were widely used in the bloodbaths which sometimes followed battlefield defeat, there are records of them ritualistically pressing to death a vanquished foe.

A pressing in progress; presumably this profession attracted those who really enjoyed their work and found it a calling.

It’s a myth Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) invented pressing but he certainly adopted it as a method of torture with his usual enthusiasm.  Across the channel, under the French civil code, Peine forte et dure (forceful and hard punishment) defined pressing: When a defendant refused to plead, the victim would be subjected to having heavier and heavier stones placed upon his or her chest until a plea was entered, or as the weight of the stones on the chest became too great for the subject to breathe, fatal suffocation would occur.

Enthusiastic about if not innovative in torture, Henry VIII continues to influence modern fashion.  His combination of a loose jacket, short skirt and tights is here reprised by Lindsay Lohan.

Not all Kings of England have been trend-setters but Henry VIII’s style choices exerted an influence not only on his court and high society but also elsewhere in Europe.  What came to be known as the “Tudor style” was really defined by him and the markers are elaborate embellishments, rich fabrics (velvet, silk, and brocade much favoured), intricate embroidery and many decorative details.  The Tudor style also took existing motifs such as the codpiece (the pouch or flap covering the front opening of men's trousers or hose) and in the early sixteenth century these became larger and more exaggerated, the function in formal wear more decorative than practical.  He also made popular (again) the padded shoulders and sleeves which had been seen for centuries but Henry’s innovation was deliberately to reference the lines used on suits of armor, something which added to what in later years was his broad & imposing figure and modern critics have noted this was something which would visually have re-balanced his increasingly portly figure.  London wasn’t than the centre of fashion it later became and some historians have noted the distinctly French influence which entered the court after the arrival of Henry’s first wife, the Spanish-born Catherine of Aragon (1485–1536; Queen of England 1509-1533) and at least some of what was imported with the unfortunate bride became part of the Tudor style.