Knob

Knob (pronounced nob)

(1) A projecting part, usually rounded, forming the handle of a door, drawer window-frame or the like.

(2) A (usually) ball-shaped part of a handle, lever etc, designed to be grasped by the hand.

(3) In machinery, an almost always rounded control switch that can be rotated on it axis (ie to turn on/off, raise/lower volume etc), designed to be operated by the fingers and visually also emulated in software on screens.

(4) A rounded lump or protuberance on the surface or at the end of something, as a knot on a tree trunk or a fleshy lump or caruncle.

(5) A rounded ornament on the hilt of an edged weapon (the pommel).

(6) In architecture, furniture design etc, an ornamental boss, as of carved work.

(7) In geography, a rounded hill, mountain, a knoll, an elevation on a ridge or morainic ridge.

(8) In botany, a bulb of the garlic plant consisting of multiple cloves in a chunky branch,

(9) In certain military and other institutions, a new recruit.

(10) In hunting & animal husbandry (as knobber), a hart in its second year; a young male deer.

(11) In cooking, a dollop, an amount just larger than a spoonful (used usually in reference to butter and in professional catering there are “butter curlers” which produce an attractive ribbed-curl of butter to be served with the bread-rolls, each curl said to be the equivalent of a “half dollop”.

(12) In slang, the head, thus a person with red hair being a “gainer knob”.

(13) In vulgar slang the head (glans (spongiosum)) of the penis but sometimes used of the whole organ, thus the slang “knobhead” (an unintelligent or contemptible person) and a “literal” synonym of “dickhead”), sometimes used in the forms “knobber” & “knobber”.

(14) In vulgar slang (by extension), to have sexual intercourse with (someone).

(15) In vulgar slang (usually in the plural), a woman's breasts (sometimes with a modifier thought appropriate to the anatomy specifically being referenced).

(16) In vulgar slang, the clitoris.

(17) To produce a knob on (an object).

(18) To furnish with a knob, typically for a functional purpose (adding one to a door, window frame etc) but also as an ornament.

(19) To turn an object into a knob (rare).

(20) In stone cutting, to knock off (excess stone) preparatory to dressing; to knobble; to skiffle.

1350–1400: From the Middle English knobe & knobbe, thought almost certainly from a Scandinavian or German source and probably at least influenced by the Middle Low German knubbe & knobbe (knob; knot in wood; bud), the Middle Dutch knobbe & cnoppe, the Dutch knop (knob, button, bud), the Old Frisian knopp & knapp, the Old High German knopf (bud, pommel of a sword, knot, loop), the Middle High German knospe, the German Knopf (button, knob) & Knospe (bud), the Danish knap (button) & knop (knob, button, bud) and the Old Norse knyfill (short horn).  Most etymologists seem most convinced by it being a variant of the Proto-Germanic knappô (knob, lump) & knuppô (lump, clod), both among the “kn-” words related to knudaną (to knead).  Probably related were the Middle English knap & knappe (small projection, knob (in the sense of “button, tassel, tuft etc”), hill, hilltop etc)), from the Old English cnæp & cnæpp (summit, top), which may in some way be linked with the Old Norse knappr (small projection, knob (in the sense of “button, head of a stick etc”)) (and from which English gained knop), the source again the Proto-Germanic knappô.  The meaning “knoll, isolated round hill” seems first to have appeared in the 1640s and, perhaps surprisingly, no instance of “doorknob” has been found prior to 1829 although the word may have been long in oral use (drawer-knob, window-knob etc all followed).  Knob is a noun & verb, knobless is a noun, knobbed & knobbing are verbs, knoblike & knobby are adjectives; the noun plural is knobs.

Yorkeys Knob, Cairns, Queensland, Australia.

In idiomatic use, the phrase “same to you with knobs (sometimes “brass knobs”) means “the same to you but even more so” (used typically in response to an insult or slight).  A “knob-twiddler” can be an informal term for a technician or console operator whose job entails adjusting electronic devices via knobs but it can also describe anyone whose role seems either unimportant or not particularly demanding.  As machinery and later electronics became an increasingly ubiquitous part of life, so did knobs and as early as the late nineteenth century the humorous “knobologist” had been coined to describe both those designing the system and the “knob-twiddlers” using them; the discipline of design was of course dubbed “knobology” and that remains a core component of ergonomics, exploring imperatives such as placement, size, tactility and labelling, all of which influence the functionality of controls on an instrument as relevant to their application.  The knobologists deeply were implicated in convenient physical switches, knobs and buttons disappearing from cars and re-imagined virtualizations on inconvenient touch-screens.  Such has been the reaction (including the realization the change made driving more accident prone) that the tactile controls are making a welcome comeback.  The now archaic “knob-thatcher” was an affectionate term for a maker of wigs while the more modern “surfer's knob” was slang from the sport, describing a hard bump or nodule on a surfer's knee, shin or ankle, resulting from recurrent contact with their surfboard.  In engineering and metallurgy, “to knobble” was (1) to render a surface with a knobbly finish and (2) to produce wrought iron by treating semi-refined puddled iron on a hearth before shingling, a specialized device in the business being the ominous sounding “knobbling furnace”.

Gay men supporting lesbians at the first “Dyke March”, Washington DC, April 1993.  The sign held by the protester at the far left uses the compound word for which the euphemisms “knob polisher” & “knob-gobbler” were coined.

Because knob was popular slang for penis, a number of derived terms predictably emerged.  A “knob polisher” or “knob-gobbler” was “one who gives fellatio”.  “Knob rot” was a reference to certain sexually transmitted diseases contracted by men, the acute condition “galloping knob rot” describing a rapidly progressing or uncontrollable variant of the condition.  A “knob job” was the act of fellatio.  “Knob cheese” (the terms “cock cheese”, “dick cheese” and (in context) even “cheese”) was vulgar slang for smegma (a whitish sebaceous secretion that collects between the glans penis and foreskin or in the vulva).  “Knob jockey” must however be used with care because it has variously been applied to (1) gay men, (2) promiscuous straight women and (3) promiscuous straight men; context thus matters.

Interior of Porsche 917K with cool (in both senses of the word) balsa wood shift knob.  The obviously "fake" passenger bucket seat was installed to comply with the rules in sports car racing.

To this day, the myth persists the balsa wood gear-shift knob used in the Porsche 917 was there as a “weight-saving measure”.  While it’s true the small knob was light, the difference between it and the aluminum or magnesium units the company had fitted to earlier race cars would have been so insignificant it’s doubtful it would have equalled a gulp of coffee the driver may or may not have enjoyed.  The stylish timber piece was however not a decorative flourish but a legitimate engineering solution to ameliorate one manifestation of “chronic heat soak”.  In 1969, the 917 was a radical advance which, Dreadnought-like, rendered all other cars in its class instantly obsolescent but the flat-12 engine (Porsche’s first in the configuration) radiated so much heat it was difficult to manage.  In a tradition it would not for decades abandon, Porsche continued to use air-cooling for the engine (which really means “oil cooled” about as much) and it ran hot; between that heat source and the gear level was a unbroken metal path, each component a most efficient conductor.  During endurance racing (some events conducted over 24 hours), cockpit temperatures could reach what doctors would rate as “extreme”.

Close-up of balsa wood gear-shift knob in Porsche 917K.

The metal lever was just one of the sources of this heat and the knob (which sat next to the driver’s knee) needed to be grasped by the driver, often many times a minute; were it to become so hot it caused pain, it would have been safety issue.  Although in 1969 the space-age was at its zenith, the materials which could have made a driver’s gloves close to heat-proof were not then commercially available so they gained much of their protective quality from thickness but the problem was they could be only so thick because a driver needed still to handle a highly-geared steering wheel and operate the many knobs and switches within arm’s reach.  Balsa wood, with its very low thermal conductivity was ideal because while not exactly cool to the touch after a few hours on the track, it never got so hot it felt unpleasant.  It also had adequate strength for its task; a gear-lever knob does not bear structural loads and, being Porsche, it received the same careful attention as every other component, each one precisely machined to exact dimensions before receiving two coats of clear lacquer.  Most variants of the 917 used the balsa wood part although when (as the “Turbo-panzers”) the most powerful of the breed appeared in the Can-Am (for Group 7, unlimited displacement sports cars) a metal knob was fitted, made possible because Group 7 was for open cars and significantly that reduced cabin temperatures.  By the late 1970s when the space age had made available materials (phenolic plastics, composites etc) with superior insulation qualities, the need to resort to a balsa wood knob vanished but the visual appeal remained and in the aftermarket, 917-style knobs remain widely available.

1959 Ford Fairlane Galaxie 500 Sunliner with suicide knob (on steering wheel at 10 o'clock).

“Suicide knob” was the most popular name for the device attached to a vehicle’s steering wheel which facilitated easier “single arm steering”.  The idea dated from the days before the almost universal fitting of power-steering and the things became popular in the US in the US in the 1950s and 1960s as even low-priced cars became heavier; for some drivers, they were invaluable when manoeuvring at low speed, especially when reversing.  They were known also as the “necker knob”, “wheel spinner” and “granny knob” but the most correct term was “Brodie Knob”, the name in honor of Steve Brodie (1861–1901), an apparently rather raffish gentleman from New York City who, as a last resort in 1886 after losing everything gambling, staged a stunt in which he jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge (site of a good many suicides), the lure a sum of money he was bet although the details of that are murky.  Mr Brodie anyway survived to collect on the wager and, on the basis of the notoriety gained, began performing other dare-devil acts for even more money.  So the jump from the Brooklyn Bridge was a good career move although the consensus now is it was a cunning stunt (ie a scam), a weighted dummy the real diver with Mr Brodie entering the water from the safety of the shoreline.  In fairness, at least some of his subsequent dangerous stunts were verified by observation and he parlayed his fame into a successful career in business, becoming a noted philanthropist and dying a rich man.

The invention of the suicide knob generally is credited to Joel Thorp of Wisconsin but similar devices had for centuries been in use on land and water.  What Mr Thorpe described in the supporting documents for what was issued as US Patent 2,101,519 STEERING WHEEL SPINNER KNOB (Dec 7, 1937) was an “improvement” of the concept:

“The present invention relates generally to improvements in appliances for facilitating manipulation of the steering wheels of vehicles, and relates more specifically to improvements in the construction and operation of spinner knob attachments co-operable with the peripheral rims of steering wheels or the like in order to effect more convenient and rapid operation of such wheels under certain conditions of use.  Generally defined, an object of my present invention is to provide an improved steering wheel spinner knob which is simple in construction and highly efficient in use.”

A young lady wrapping practiced fingers around the timber shift knob in 1970 Maserati Indy (Tipo 116, 1969-1975).  In the era, it was fashionable in Italian exotica for the knob and steering wheel rim to match (ie in leather or wood).

Although widely used on tractors, heavy transport vehicles and such, it was in the 1950s as cars in the US became heavier the suicide knobs gained popularity and some of that was due to reasons Mr Thorp probably never envisaged.  One receptive market was males aged 17-25 (a crew infamous for many reasons) who found the combination of suicide knob and bench seat made an idea ecosystem, enabling one hand to be used steer the vehicle while the "free" arm could wrap around the girlfriend (or alternative) who affectionately was resting her head on the driver’s shoulder.  In this arrangement, a driver’s attention more easily could be divided between her and the road.  It was also males aged 17-25 who were the core of the hot-rod community which began as a West Coast phenomenon (induced by a critical mass of the right demographic, available disposable income and a good supply of cheap, used cars which easily could be modified as desired) and they found suicide knobs the best way to “do a half donut” (a spin of one’s hot rod through 180^o), the trick being to grip the knob and then suddenly turn the wheel while applying full throttle, resulting in a loud, spectacular maneuver, made the more pleasing for the driver by him having “left his mark” in strips of runner on the road.  This, the hot rodders called “spinning a brodie”, a variant on the earlier “doing a Brodie” (a dangerous or otherwise inadvisable act) which entered the language after the nation-wide publicity which followed Mr Brodie’s alleged leap from the Brooklyn Bridge.  In the era, a Brodie Knob was as essential a piece of equipment as one’s packet of unfiltered Camel cigarettes or pair of fluffy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror.

1962 Maserati 3500 GTi.  Some Maserati 3500 GTs (Tipo 101, 1957-1964) had the unusual feature of having front and rear quarter-vents fitted to the same door; they were opened and closed using knurled, stainless steel knobs.

The dark appellation “suicide knob” was bestowed because (1) the devices came to be associated with accident-prone drivers (the “males aged 17-25” cohort prominent in the statistics) who probably did use the things to engage in “risk-taking” and (2) by virtue of their location (by default affixed to the upper quadrant) on the wheel, they were a genuine danger in accidents and, in an era of non-collapsible steering columns, tales of them penetrating the eye socket, causing irreparable loss of vision and traumatic brain injury, were legion.  The crusading US lawyer Ralph Nader (b 1934) is criticized for much but the contribution his book Unsafe at Any Speed (1965) made to reducing the death toll on the roads cannot be under-estimated and the effect was world-wide because the rest the industry eventually followed the lead of the US legislation which came in the book’s wake.  In the US and elsewhere, change was of course resisted but it came and while it’s not possible to estimate how many deaths and often gruesome injuries the reforms prevented, no one denies it’s a big number.  The suicide knob was one minor casualty of the movement and in road-registered vehicles, in most jurisdictions (although some US states remain permissive), such devices are permitted only for specialized (often low-speed) vehicles and if used by drivers with some disability which precludes the use of conventional controls.

A Hurst Jaws of Life used between 1977-2012 by the fire department in Carlsbad, New Mexico, now on display at the National Museum of American History.

Another to make a life-saving contribution to reducing the road told was George Hurst (1927-1986; founder of his eponymous company) whose great legacy to humanity was the “Jaws of Life”, a hydraulic cutter he first developed in 1961 after being shocked at how long it sometimes took to extract the driver from the crumpled wreck of a race car.  The great advantage of the “Jaws of Life” was that it worked like a very powerful pair of scissors, avoiding the showers of sparks produced by mechanical saws, always a risk to use in areas where fuel is likely to have been spilled.  The basic design came to be used in hydraulic rescue devices worldwide and quite how many lives have been saved by virtue of its use isn’t known but again, it would be a big number.

Two decades of progress: Shifter for the two-speed Powerglide automatic transmission in 1953 Chevrolet Corvette (left) and a classic spherical shift knob in 1972 Chevrolet Corvette LT1.  The delicate-looking shifter in the 1953 Corvette seems modest but the location was a world-first for an automatic and was efficient because the location (between the driver’s seat and transmission tunnel) provided the shortest possible path to the linkage.  As late as 1964, Chrysler used a similar apparatus in the 1964 300K.

However, before the Jaws of Life, Hurst was already famous in the vibrant sub-culture which was at the times also known for its propensity to purchase and install suicide knobs.  Hurst produced “shifters” which were the assemblies connected to a transmission, used by the driver to “change gears” and they proved instantly popular which may seem strange given every manufacturer at the time included a shifter with every vehicle.  However, beginning in the late 1930s, the US manufacturers had begun moving from centrally located, floor-mounted levers to units on the steering column because it made for better packaging efficiency in the cabins, then optimized for bench-seats with three-astride seating.  That move achieved the goal but with the linkage between lever and gear-changing mechanism now longer and making more turns, some precision in the shifting was lost and column shifting (the once almost universal “three on the tree”) was less conducive to an enthusiastic driving style (such as that of the “suicide knob equipped” crowd).  It was in the 1950s the taste for floor-shifts like those in European sports cars began to gain critical mass and even though the 1953 Chevrolet Corvette was hardly a sports car in the tradition of MGs, Fiats and such, it’s notable Chevrolet from the start installed a floor shift for the (two-speed!) Powerglide automatic transmission; it may not have been a sports car with a “four-on-the-floor” but it had a floor-shift so there was that.  Automatic transmissions in mass-produced cars was then something of a novelty barely a decade old and the Corvette’s floor shift was apparently a world-first.

A butter curler producing curls.  Generally, the curlers come in large and small, respectively producing a curl notionally equivalent to a dollop or a knob (half-dollop).  In the kitchen however, knobs and dollops are what the chef decides they are.

Four-speed manual transmissions began to appear in Detroit-made cars in the late 1950s and within half a decade George Hurst’s shifters were close to obligatory for any racer (authorized or not) seeking “street cred” and it wasn’t a confected image, the Hurst shifters demonstratively superior without being excessively expensive.  So stellar did their reputation become even GM (General Motors) relaxed their long-standing ban on other brand-names being associated with their products and made a feature of one being standard equipment of the 1964 Pontiac GTO, the car credited with being “the first muscle car” and such was the success in 1965 the shifter’s handle was even permitted to be embossed: HURST.  Soon, other manufacturers actively were seeking co-productions.  George Hurst’s path to market domination was shockingly simple and might have come from a textbook: (1) a perfected design, (2) skilful engineering in development, (3) high quality in production and (4) an attractive price, a combination of elements with great appeal for buyers and manufacturers alike.

Hurst’s dual-gate automatic transmission “His and Hers” shifter with conventional apparatus “for the automatic minded little lady” and a performance-oriented configuration offering manual control for the “man who really wanted a 4-speed standard stick but bought this extra just for her.”  Note the unfamiliar shift pattern, the now universal PRNDL not an industry standard until 1965, the year before it was demanded by regulations.  From the early days of automatic transmissions in the 1940s, reverse had been directly adjacent to Low, allowing drivers more easily to emulate what was done with manual transmissions when a “rocking” was being induced to try to free a vehicle from mud or snow.  It was a quirk of the age and, because reliability was not then what decades later came to be expected, the early transmissions included a second (rear) fluid pump to permit push/tow/hill starts.  Probably, not many much dwelt on the shape of the knob Hurst put atop the His and Hers” shifter but in geometry it would be described as an oblate spheroid with two parallel planar truncations.  Now easily modelled in software rendered with a 3D printer, perfecting a shape like this for production used to absorb much time on the drawing board and in the creation of prototypes.  A spheroid is an ellipsoid generated by rotating an ellipse about one of its principal axes which, if “stretched” along one axis becomes a prolate spheroid (ie elongated and something like a rugby ball).  If slightly flattened along the axis of rotation, it’s an oblate spheroid (like planet Earth which isn’t quite a pure sphere) but the His & Hers knob, having a slight elongation along the shifter’s axis, is closest to a prolate spheroid.  The planar-truncation (ie sliced by two parallel planes) created the (left & right) flat faces and the knob can thus be described as a “truncated ellipsoid” or “truncated prolate spheroid” but anyone wishing to out-nerd the rest would probably coin something like “biaxial ellipsoid with parallel planar truncations”.

It was early in the era of second-wave feminism (1960s-1980s) that George Hurst made his brief foray into marriage guidance counselling.  First-wave feminism (1895-1950s) is sometimes called the “de jure” or “structural” period because the focus was on legal issues such as women's suffrage, property rights and political candidacy but, in the West, an early victory was overcoming any opposition to women being granted driver’s licences.  Attitudes however evolved not wholly in parallel with legal rights and even today, among some, the view persists it’s men who are focused on performance and speed while women value vehicles using other criteria.  Impressionistically, that stereotype is not wholly without foundation but, since second wave feminism reset the rules, it’s no longer possible to run advertising perpetuating the notion.  The “His and Hers” shifter worked with a key-lock which enabled the husband to ensure only he could use the “manual override” feature and the idea in recent decades has been revived although this time the target of the lockout includes one’s (presumably male) children and any concierge or attendant who might be entrusted with parking one’s car.

Advertisement for Hurst's "custom knobs" (left) and the famous Hurst "pistol grip shifter" in 1970 Plymouth 'Cuda 440+6 (ie 3 x 2bbl carburetors) (right).

The magic of Hurst’s shifters was in the mechanism but, just as for computer users the mouse and keyboard assume great importance because it’s by touching these relatively simple pieces of hardware that use can be made of the machine’s more sophisticated internals, it was the shifter’s knob which was a driver’s most intimate connection with the transmission.  Although in the art deco era there had been some lovely detailing, it wasn’t until the 1960s most conceptually moved beyond beyond “variations on a theme of sphere” and Hurst was among the manufacturers to explore shapes and substances.  There were “T-Handles” (which, usually as "T-Bars", were for decades popular around the world for automatics) and “Horseshoes” which attracted admiring glances but didn’t catch on and any number of novelty items including billiard balls (the “8 ball” predictably a favourite of the V8 crowd) and scale models of this and that including human body parts such as the skull and mammary gland.  Knobs could be of plastic, wood or various metals and came in designer colors, velvet coatings a nice touch of the 1960s.  The most fetishized of the muscle car era however was Hurst’s “Pistol Grip Shifter” which did what it said on the tin: it gave the user the feeling of holding a handgun.  In the 1960s, gun culture in the US hadn’t yet become what it is today (as now defined, the first “mass-shooting” didn’t happen until 1966) but it was still a place with a lot of firearms.  However, despite the potential implications, when in 1970 Chrysler made one standard equipment on the 1970 Plymouth ‘Cuda, one brochure made mention of the device only with the bland: “...a convenient pistol grip”.  For a corporation which called the Cuda’s hood scoop the I.Q.E.C.A.G. (Incredible Quivering Exposed Cold Air Grabber), it seemed a missed opportunity though it didn’t have much linguistic luck with I.Q.E.C.A.G., customers and everybody else deciding it was a “shaker”.

Ginger knob Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap, approaching 23 Egerton Terrace (tagged 7 for the film), Knightsbridge, SW3, London (the front door with a knob, left) and standing next to a door with a handle (right), from a photo-shoot by Rebecca Lader.

Architecturally, the choice between specifying door levers or door knobs is often one of mere preference or aesthetic conformity but for public or commercial buildings, some regulatory authorities now mandate the use of levers because typically they are easier to use for those with disabilities (especially if hand-mobility is limited) as they demand less dexterity.  Additionally, being circular and often highly polished, knobs can be hard to use with wet hands so that’s a consideration in kitchens, bathrooms and such; nor do young children find them as convenient as a handle.  So, all that would seem to make a compelling case for the handle but for domestic use, there’s one quirky consideration some may wish to include when making the choice.  While there are verified cases of cats and dogs learning to open doors using a handle, no pet has yet been observed mastering the turning of a door knob; while a rare problem, the chance of one’s cat or dog opening door using a lever is not zero and, because houses tend to use the same style of lever throughout, once they have learned to open one door, they’ve really learned to open all.  If it’s a concern, the good news is most doors are adaptable for either so replacing a lever with a knob does not usually require the door being replaced.

Hilt

Hilt (pronounced hilt)

(1) The handle of a sword or dagger.

(2) The handle of many weapons and tools.

(3) In anatomy, the base of the penis.

(4) To furnish with a hilt.

(5) As the idiom “to the hilt”, to the maximum extent or degree; completely; fully.

Pre 900:  From the Middle English hilt, from the Old English hilt & hilte (handle of a sword or dagger); cognate with the Middle Dutch hilt & hilte, the Old Norse hjalt, the Old Saxon helta (oar handle) and the Old High German helza (handle of a sword).  Source was the Proto-Germanic helt, heltą, heltǭ, heltō & hiltijō, probably from the primitive Indo-European kel- (to strike, cut).  One form of the idiom which died out was “up to the hilts”, the plural having exactly the same meaning as the still familiar singular; first noted in the 1670s, it was extinct by the mid-eighteenth century except in Scotland and the border regions of northern England where it survived another hundred-odd years.  The vivid imagery summoned by the expression “to the hilt” is of a dagger stabbed into someone’s heart, the blade buried all the way to the hilt.  The phrase is used to suggest one’s total commitment to something although those training British commandos in such things during World War II (1939-1945) did caution that a blade buried in a victim "to the hilt" could be "difficult to get it out", such were "the contractions of the sinews".  Hilt is a noun & verb, hilting is a verb, hilted is a verb & adjective and hiltless is an adjective; the noun plural is hilts.

Consisting of the pommel, grip & guard, hilt was a European swordsmith’s technical name for the handle of a knife, dagger, sword or bayonet; the once used terms haft and shaft have long been obsolete.  The pommel is the large fitting at the top of the handle, originally developed to prevent the weapon slipping from the grasp but during the late medieval period, swordsmiths began to add weight so they were sufficiently heavy to be a counterweight to the blade.  This had the effect of shifting the point of balance closer to the hilt, the physics of this assisting swordsmanship.  The pommel could also be used as a blunt instrument with which to strike an opponent, something from the German school of swordsmanship known as the Mordhau (or Mordstreich or Mordschlag (literally “murder-stroke” or “murder-strike” or “murder-blow”)) method, a half-sword technique of holding the sword inverted, with both hands gripping the blade while striking one's opponent with the pommel or cross-guard.  The technique essentially makes as sword function as a mace or hammer and in military training was envisaged for use in armoured combat although in the hands of a skilled exponent it could be deadly in close combat.  Some hilts were explicitly designed for this purpose.  Pommel was from the Middle English pommel (ornamental knob or ball, decorative boss), from the Old French pom (hilt of a sword) & pommel (knob) and the Medieval Latin pumellum & pōmellum (little apple), probably via the Vulgar Latin pomellum (ball, knob), diminutive of the Late Latin pōmum (apple).  The use in weaponry came first, the sense of "front peak of a saddle" dating from the mid 1400s and in fifteenth and sixteenth century poetry it also sometimes meant "a woman's breasts".  The gymnast's pommel horse (vaulting horse) is so called by 1908, named for the removable handles, which resemble pommels of a saddle, the use in saddlery noted first in 1887.

Grips still are made almost always of wood or metal and once were usually wrapped with shagreen (untanned tough leather or shark skin) but this proved less durable in climates with high-humidity and in these regions, rubber was increasingly used from the mid-nineteenth century.  Whatever the material, it’s almost always both glued to the grip and wrapped with wire in a helix.  The guard sits between grip and blade.  The guard was originally a simple stop (a straight crossbar perpendicular to the blade (later called a quillon)) to prevent the hand slipping up the blade but later evolved into an armoured gauntlet to protect the wielder's entire hand from an opponent’s sword.  By the sixteenth century, guards became elaborate, now often decorative as well as functional, the innovation of this time being a single curved piece alongside the fingers (parallel with the blade and perpendicular to any cross-guards); it became known as the knuckle-bow.

Lindsay Lohan with saw-tooth edged dagger held at the hilt; from a Tyler Shields (b 1982) photo session, 2013.

The “blood” in this photograph is believed to be “fake blood” of the type used in film & television production; it's a substance with an interesting history.  Before the introduction of color film, the liquid was not red but black or a deep blue because those were the hues which, when using monochrome (ie black & white) or sepia film stock, those were the shades which looked convincingly “red” while true red did not.  In the industry, the stuff variously is called “stage blood”, “theatrical blood”, “Prop blood”, “FX blood” or “SFX blood”.  “FX” is the general term for “effects” while “SFX” refers to “special effects” and there’s also “VFX” which, meaning “visual effects” doesn’t have a blood department.  Chemically, the mix is interesting stuff because there are a number of flavours including (1) edible blood which is safe (though not necessarily pleasant) to ingest (made from water, corn syrup & vegetable-based food coloring, etc), (2) non-edible blood used on clothing and props (it can include detergents, thickeners and even sand), (3) rapid-drying blood designed to simulate dried or clotted blood and (4) flowing blood which is used in scenes with active bleeding so realistic viscosity is needed, the mixes ranging from “squirting” to “flowing”.  Historically, each variety was tailored to the specific lighting conditions in use but with post-production digital editing of brightness, color saturation and such now routine, that’s now less critical.

Great moments in elaborately carved hilts: Ivory hilt for ceremonial sword carved in 1801-1802 by the London firm Rundell, Bridge and Rundell for George IV (1762–1830) King of the United Kingdom 1820-1830).

George IV’s ivory hilt (left) depicts the rescue of Andromeda by Perseus, who descended on his winged horse Pegasus to destroy the fierce dragon tormenting his captive.  The artisans were thought to have been influenced by the ivory carvings which emerged during the mid-seventeenth century from workshops in the Netherlands city of Maastricht when large volumes of ivory were being imported by the Dutch East India Company.  The hilt consists of four separate pieces: (1) pommel and grip (with Perseus and the chained Andromeda), (2) knuckle-guard (with the long neck and mouth of the dragon), (3) quillon-block and rear quillon (the dragon's back and tail) and (4) the (somewhat diminished) shells, carved with the dragon's wings and feet.  The wavy-edged blade was sometimes a feature of ceremonial swords.  In London, the most accomplished of the artisans who worked with ivory were members of the Worshipful Company of Cutlers.

Great moments in elaborately carved hilts: Ivory hilt for hunting sword carved circa 1740 and attributed to German artisan Joseph Deutschmann (1717-1787) for Maximilian III Joseph (1727–1777; Prince-elector of the Holy Roman Empire and Duke of Bavaria 1745-1777).

Prince Maximilian’s ivory hilt is a classic example of the Rococo ornamentation of the era (some were more extravagant) and is thought also to be a piece of unsubtle political messaging, the lion a top the grip holding a crescent moon in its claws, an allusion to recent European victories over the Ottoman Turks on the battlefields of Eastern Europe and, despite being crafted as a “hunting sword”, this blade almost certainly was reserved for ceremonial purposes.  Hunting swords were one-handed weapons which in the mid-twelfth century emerged in Europe as a distinct class.  They were characterized by a relatively short blade and were essentially a sidearm carried when hunting big (and sometimes dangerous) game, their size and weight making them a convenient weapon able quickly to be drawn and swung.  Many single-edged hunting swords featured a saw-like serrated pattern on the back edge; this was another convenience item as hunters utilized this for slicing or sectioning the catch.  The blade shape evolved over the centuries to become narrower on the first two-thirds of its length before at the end widening.  Hunting swords remained in general use well into the eighteenth century.

Boss

Boss (pronounced bos or baws)

(1) A person who employs or supervisors workers; a manager; a person in charge of a business or company.

(2) A politician who controls the party organization, as in a particular district (historically most associated with the Democrat & Republican party “machines” in US cities from the mid-nineteenth to the late twentieth centuries and notorious for devious, corrupt or illegal practices and still used in many countries where the US influence was strong, notably the Philippines.

(3) To be master of or over; manage; direct; control; to be a boss.

(4) To order about (used especially if conducted in an officious manner.

(5) To be too domineering and authoritative (often as “bossy”).

(6) To ornament with bosses; to emboss.

(7) In slang, first-rate; the best.

(8) In botany & zoology, a protuberance or roundish excrescence on the body or some internal organ of an animal or on a plant.

(9) In geology, a knob-like mass of rock, especially an outcrop of igneous or metamorphic rock, applied particularly to the uppermost part of an underlying batholith.

(10) An ornamental protuberance of metal, ivory, etc; a stud.

(11) In architecture, an ornamental, knob-like projection, as a carved keystone at the intersection of ogives.

(12) A stone roughly formed and set in place for later carving.

(13) In bookbinding, one of several pieces of brass or other metal inset into the cover of a book to protect the corners or edges or for decoration.

(14) In engineering, a small projection on a casting or forging appearing on a machine or fitting; an area of increased thickness, usually cylindrical, that strengthens or provides room for a locating device on a shaft, hub of a wheel etc

(15) In nautical use, a projecting part in a ship's hull or in one frame of a hull, fitting around a propeller shaft.

(16) In plumbing, to hammer (sheet metal, as lead) to conform to an irregular surface.

(17) In dialectal (northern English) use, a familiar name for a calf or cow.

(18) In dialectal (Scots) use, hollow.

(19) As the abbreviation BOSS, the Bureau of State Security; an apartheid-era branch of the South African security police which existed 1969-1980.

(20) In informal use (particularly in India and in Multicultural London English (MLE)), a term of address to a man, not of necessity related to employment, status or other relationships but also as an alternative of “guv” or “guvnor”.

(21) In video gaming, an enemy, often at the end of a level, that is particularly challenging and must be beaten in order to progress (from the Far East), from the Japanese ボス (bosu).  In Swedish, the related form is slutboss (the construct being slut (end) +‎ boss (boss) and synonymous with sista bossen).

(22) In (allegedly) humorous use, one’s wife.

(23) In archery, a target block (now constructed usually of hard foam but historically made of hay bales), to which a target face is attached.

(24) In building, a wooden vessel for the mortar used in tiling or masonry, hung by a hook from the laths, or from the rounds of a ladder.

(25) In hydrology, a head or reservoir of water.

(26) A hassock or small seat, especially made from a bundle of straw (obsolete).

1250–1300: From the Middle English bos, bose & boce, from the Anglo-French boce (lump, growth, boil), from the Old French boce (lump, bulge, protuberance, knot), from either the Frankish bottja or the (unattested) Vulgar Latin bottia, both of uncertain origin but probably related to the Italian bozza (metal knob, swelling) and the Proto-Germanic bautaną (to hit, strike, beat).  By the turn of the fifteenth century, it was used in the sense of “to swell out; to beat or press into a raised ornament” and by the 1620s as “to furnish with bosses”.  The word survives as the Modern French bosse.

The (highly nuanced) use to mean “a supervisor” dates from the 1640s and was a creation of US English, from the Dutch baas (master, foreman).  The Dutch baas was from the Middle Dutch baes (master of a household, friend), from the Old Dutch baso (uncle, kinsman), from the Proto-West Germanic baswō, from the Proto-Germanic baswô (uncle) which may have been from the Proto-Germanic ba- or bō- (father, older male relative), the source also of the English terms babe, boy, bub & bully. It was cognate with the Middle Low German bās (supervisor, foreman), the Old Frisian bas (master), hence the Saterland Frisian Boas (boss) and the Old High German basa (father's sister, cousin) from which German gained Base (aunt, cousin) (although not all etymologists are convinced there’s a link with the Old High German basa).  The etymology seems to suggest the word originally was a term of respect used to address an older male relative (usually an uncle but also even others considered “honorary uncles”).  Later, in New Amsterdam (the old name for New York), it came to mean “a person in charge who is not a master (in the legal sense of ownership) and the representation of the Dutch -aa- by the English -o- is attributed to the older, unrounded pronunciation of this letter, which remains prevalent in North America and parts of Ireland, but in the colonial era existed also in some British accents.  The Dutch form baas is in English from the 1620s as the standard title of a Dutch ship's captain and the rapid adoption in the US may have reflected the popularity of a word which avoided the slavery implications of “master”, something never necessary in England where the terms master & servant were included in legislation into the twentieth century.

Lindsay Lohan released the track Bossy in May 2008.  It was classified as electropop & dance-pop and was about a bolshie woman; it’s thus considered autobiographical.

The slang adjective meaning “excellent; first rate” was in use at least by the 1880s although it faded from use before being revived (perhaps independently) in the 1950s, in the slang of US youth and jazz musicians.  The adjective bossy was developed from the noun and in the 1540s meant “a swelling, projecting and rounded, decorated with bosses” The meaning “domineering, fond of ordering people about” was first noted in 1882.  The use as the Scots adjective meaning “hollow; empty” dates from the early sixteenth century and is of obscure origin.  The northern English dialectal form which was a familiar name for a cow or calf was first documented in 1844 and was from the earlier dialectal form buss (calf) which is of uncertain origin but is thought almost certainly from the Latin bōs cow (ox), from the primitive Indo-European root gwou- (ox, bull, cow).  The verb emboss (to ornament with raised work) dated from the late fourteenth century and was from the Old French embocer (and thus a similar form to embocieure (boss, stud, buckle), from an assimilated form of the construct en- (in, into) + boce (knoblike mass).  The synonyms, depending on context includes administrator, chief, chieftain, director, employer, executive, leader, owner, supervisor, capital, champion, fine, fly, top, controller (or comptroller), executive, foreman, foreperson, head, honcho, head honcho, overseer & superintendent.  Boss is a noun, verb & adjective, bosser & bossiness are nouns, bossed is a verb, bossing is a verb & adjective, bossily is an adverb and bossy is an adjective; the noun plural is bosses.

The Boss Mustangs

During the initial development phase in 1968-1969, the project code for Ford’s Boss Mustang programme was the bland “SKO” (Special Mustang, Kansas City Operation).  According to industry legend, secrecy was maintained by instructing the staff working to the prototype to respond to any questions about the vehicle by saying “it’s the boss’s car.”  Whether or not that’s true, it was the project's boss (the chief engineer) who suggested the “BOSS” name formerly be adopted as the official model designation and although the management team initially responded with restrained enthusiasm, the production cars emerged as 1969 models as the “Boss Mustang” and the response was so good it was continued for three seasons and the corporation has over the decades revived the name, both in the US and Australia.

1969 Ford Mustang Boss 302.

The first of the line was the Boss 302, introduced in 1969.  The Boss 302 existed solely to ensure Ford would have a competitive entry for the SCCA’s (Sports Car Club of America) Trans-Am series which was conducted in two classes, one for cars with engines up to 2.0 litres (122 cubic inch) and one with a five litre (305 cubic inch) limit, the Mustangs campaigned in the latter.  Ford had enjoyed early success in the series but Chevrolet’s Camaro had prevailed in 1968, its Z/28 package optimized for the road circuits on which the events were conducted and Ford’s initial response had been the “Tunnel Port” engine, developed with cylinder heads cleverly designed for top end power at the expense of just about everything else.  The tunnel ports certainly delivered the power but the high-revving engines proved chronically unreliable although the debate about whether this was a fundamental flaw in the design or some laxness in the preparation has never been resolved and their performance in competition over the decades since does suggest that if assembled and maintained with the appropriate care, they’re a robust unit.

1970 Ford Mustang Boss 302.

However, noting the care with which the Z/28 had been configured, Ford decided to follow their example and conceived the Boss 302 Mustang with a bucket of money in one hand and plans of the Trans-Am’s circuits in the other.  Added to the robust 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) Windsor block were more modern cylinder heads with canted valves, emulating the approach adopted for the new Cleveland (335) series V8.  Unlike the highly strung tunnel ports, the Boss 302 had a wider power band and more low-speed torque, characteristics more suited to the race tracks.  To comply with the homologation rules, 1000 identical examples had to be sold but such was the demand 1628 were built, all fitted with the modifications to the brakes and suspension required to provide the basis of a successful race car.  Despite it all, the Camaro again won the series in 1969 but the Boss 302 returned to take the title in 1970 and that year's model proved even more popular with 7013 sold.

1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429.

The homologation of the Boss 302 for competition was a simple matter in that it was a complete package, as required under SCCA rules.  The Boss 429 Mustang was different in that it was only the engine which was required to be built is sufficient numbers, 500 required for them to be used on the NASCAR (National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing) ovals & circuits and with 850 built in 1969 (a further 500 1970 models following), the threshold was reached.  The Mustang was not used in the main NASCAR events but such was the symbiotic relationship between the sanctioning body and the manufacturers that Ford was granted permission separately to homologate the platform and the powerplant, the intermediate Torino Talladegas (actually to be used) with their aerodynamic enhancements produced in their run of 500 (which may or may not have been produced in time) but fitted with ordinary engines.  So cooperative was NASCAR that they even nudged their capacity limit to 430 cubic inches to accommodate Ford’s new engine which was just slightly larger than the previous 7 litre mark.  Ford's approach sounds needlessly complicated (as well as being expensive) but market research suggested that while demand would exist for at least 500 Boss 429 Mustangs, 500 Ford Torinos & Mercury Cyclones (the models actually used in NASCAR competition) with the big engine might be hard to shift.

Boss 429 in 1969 Mercury Cyclone, 1971 Daytona 500.

The decision was thus taken to put the Boss 429 in the pony car but it was not a simple task and one certainly not appropriate for Ford’s high volume, mass-production lines so the job was out-sourced to a third party which received a series of deliveries in two parts, (1) batches of complete cars and (2) crates containing engines.  The task was to remove the existing engine (to be returned to the factory), make the necessary modifications to the body and suspension, fit the Boss 429 and attend to all the small details which made the cars into regular production models.  The concept was simple but the wide engine wouldn’t fit without significant changes and although Ford never revealed how much of a loss it made on each Boss 429, estimates by "normally reliable sources" figured it in the low four figures (ie more than US$1000) per unit.  Still, they must have been pleased with the investment because the engine did the job in NASCAR and the aura surrounding the Boss 429 Mustang has grown over the years.  That however took a while because it wasn’t wholly suited to life on the street or the drag-strip and was at its happiest only when on a racetrack at full throttle, breathing in through a very big carburetor and out through free-flowing tubular headers.  On the street, the problem was the same as that which plagued the tunnel port 302: the huge intake ports meant a lack of low-speed responsiveness (ie low-speed torque) because there was insufficient pressure for the fuel/air mix.  The professionals however learned quickly, the pioneers of the then still novel business of turbo-charging finding the Boss 429 took to forced aspiration like few others.

The one-off, mid-engined Mustang Boss 429 (left) and the adapted drivetrain package (right).  Unusually (although in 1969 anything mid-engined was "unusual"), the gearbox was in front of the engine with the differential behind, the same arrangement which two years later Lamborghini would display when the prototype Countach LP500 made its debut at the 1971 Geneva Motor Show.   

One quirky footnote in Boss 429 statistics is that although the orthodoxy is all were fitted with four-speed manual gearboxes, three were built with Ford's C6 automatic transmission.  One was a "proof of concept" mid-engined car which is believed to have been crushed once the evaluation was process was complete while the other two were part of a fleet of seven (the other five powered by the 428 CobraJet engine) built for the "1970 Military Performance Tour", a program run in response to the alarming finding the death toll of soldiers buying muscle cars after returning from tours of duty in Vietnam was close to battlefield losses.  One of the automatic Boss 429 Mustangs survived and the unique machine is still in private hands.  The mid-engined car was built under the program code LID (Low-Investment Drive-train), an allusion to things being done "on the cheap", using as many off-the-shelf components as possible.  As a car, the thing worked well but despite the weight-distribution shifting from a nose-heavy 60/40 (front-rear) to 40/60, surprisingly, there was no significant improvement in performance.       

1971 Ford Mustang Boss 351.

Times had changed by 1971.  It was obvious to all the crazy era of the muscle cars was in its last days and both the Boss 302 and 429 were retired, the tasks of homologation done.  There was however a Boss 351 Mustang, a machine with no pretensions to any real link with competition although it was dressed up to look the part.  A development of Ford's 335 (Cleveland) series, it's an engine at which the purists have sometimes looked askance because it lacked the comprehensive lubrication system enjoyed by the Windsor which underlay the Boss 302s but for street use it's certainly more than adequate.  The lack of pedigree has meant the Boss 351 has never enjoyed the stellar reputation of its predecessors and its lines doubtlessly contributed to that, the new body bigger and heavier, lacking the litheness of the earlier years.  Even when standing still however the thing undeniably had a presence although the dramatic roofline (Ford called this implementation of the fastback motif the "sportsroof" and, with its correctly executed "Kammback", the claims to aerodynamic efficiency are plausible) did restrict rearward visibility, the glass close to horizontal.  Testing one in 1971, Car & Driver magazine observed: "It's like sitting in a bunker; You can hardly see out. The windows are gun slits, the belt line comes up almost to your chin and the nearly horizontal rear deck and wide roof pillars block off all but a shallow field of vision directly to the rear. You have a poor view of the road ahead of you as well. The long, level front fenders and the bulged up hood, block off an enormous area immediately in front of the car, and right turns, particularly those onto a section of road that falls away, are virtually blind."

1971 Ford Mustang Boss 351.

It may not have enjoyed the racing history of the Boss 302 or possessed the thoroughbred lineage of the Boss 429 but lurking behind all the thunder, the Boss 351 ranks with the best of the Chrysler 340s as one of the most under-estimated street engines of the era.  A glance at the specification sheet would certainly have impressed because the big valves and ports were serviced by a solid-lifter camshaft which provided more lift than anything in the industry apart from the duo of 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8s (the L88 (1968 & 1969) and all aluminum ZL1 (1969)) which could be ordered in the Corvette and Chevrolet cautioned neither was "recommended for street use" (ie they were meant for drag strips and race tracks).  The Boss 351 wasn't that extreme and appeared in advertisements, unlike the the L88 which rated only a few words in the small print of the brochure while the ZL1 wasn't even mentioned, Chevrolet correctly concluding anyone who would buy such a thing already knew about it and those who did not would never buy one.  At the time, testers were impressed with Boss 351's performance, noting it could run with machines fitted with engines sometimes 100 cubic inches (1.6 litres) larger while at the same time delivering a better driving experience, the smaller, lighter weight over the front wheels making it rather more nimble although that phrase was relative; the Boss 351 was no Lotus Elan.  The engine technically was Ford’s short-lived 351 HO which in 1972 would be detuned for a final (non-Boss) season before falling victim to the increasingly restrictive emission regulations but demand was anyway falling; having sold over 7000 Boss 302s in 1970, only 1806 Boss 351s were made.  Things would get worse for the Mustang before they got better.