Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Phoney. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Phoney. Sort by date Show all posts

Friday, January 15, 2021

Phony

Phony (pronounced foh-nee)

(1) Not real or genuine; fake; counterfeit; imitation; hoax.

(2) An insincere or pretentious person.

1890s:  Phony is thought a US vernacular alteration of the British fawney, the word for a gilded brass ring used in a confidence trick called the "fawney rig".  In this scam, the trickster drops a ring (or a purse containing some valuables) and runs to pick the item up at the same time as the victim who spies it on the ground.  The trickster asserts that the found treasure should be split between them and the victim who "found" the item, convinced now of its value, is persuaded give the con artist some money in order to keep the phony item.  The alternative (mostly UK) spelling is phoney.  Actual origin of fawney seems to be a descriptor of a finger-ring, a word brought to England by the Irish, derived from the Irish fáinne (ring) and it’s likely the Irish Diaspora which introduced it to the United States.  Although it’s a bit murky, fáinne may be derived from the same Indo-European root (hehno) as the Latin ānus (ring) which existed also in Old French and first noted in English in 1658.

Speculative alternatives have been suggested.  An early twentieth-century notion thought it from a use of a telephone to lure victims to false appointments in order that a criminal operation might be carried out, further conjecturing connections either with phoo, a term of contempt, or funny.  No etymological evidence was offered.  Another origin, widely circulated by the popular press, says the word is derived from the name of a manufacturer of cheap jewellery, a Mr Forney and it’s likely the authors mistook fawney for the sadly maligned chap.  The OED agrees phony originates in colloquial American English, but dates it from an 1893 reference to the horse-racing slang, “phony bookmakers,” quoting The Chicago Tribune.  The OED defines them as “unofficial bookmakers issuing betting slips on which they do not intend to pay out.” 

Most interesting (and least likely) is the pondered derivation from Ancient Greek via Latin with an origin said to date from the Punic Wars.  During these wars, the Romans used the phrase “Punic Faith” which implied treacherousness and dishonesty and Poeni is the Latin word from which is derived Punic, itself from the Ancient Greek Phoeni.  While it seems the Phoenicians were regarded by the Romans as an untrustworthy lot, two-thousand-odd years passed before phony emerged in English and there’s no support for the theory.  Apparently unrelated too is the linguistic coincidence that in Welsh, poeni means “to hurt, to ail, to pain, to worry, to fret, to pester, to plague, to bother or to nag”.

Fake, phony and truthful hyperbole

The Trump presidency saw a spike in the use of phony.  Donald Trump (b 1946; US President 2017-2021) liked the word, using it to against both opponents and any news outlet at all critical, taking alliterative delight in describing Elizabeth Warren (b 1949, United States Senator for Massachusetts since 2013) as “a phony Pocahontas…” after her DNA test revealed the Native American bloodline she’d claimed was less than a small fraction of one percent.  In general use, he prefers the punchier fake news but also uses phony, often as a synonym but also as an analogue for negative.  In his 1978 book The Art of the Deal (which if Trump didn’t entirely write, he at least influenced), he noted the effectiveness of “…an innocent form of exaggeration…” which he called “…truthful hyperbole”, something his many critics noted was well suited to the age of social media and claimed was but a variation of the Nazis’ rule of propaganda that small lies are ineffective but big lies work well.  That’s most often attributed to Joseph Goebbels (1897–1945; Reich Minister of Propaganda 1933-1945) but is actually from the first volume of Adolf Hitler’s (1889–1945; German Chancellor 1933-1945) Mein Kampf, Goebbels memorably using the phrase years later in a critique of British wartime propaganda.  Goebbels was however well aware of the limitations of the use of untruths and in The Art of the Deal, Trump also cautioned there were limits to what can be done with variations of the phony, not so much what but for how long:  “You can create excitement, you can do wonderful promotion and get all kinds of press, and you can throw in a little hyperbole. But if you don't deliver the goods, people will eventually catch on."

Others like it too.  Mitt Romney (b 1947, US senator (Republican) for Utah since 2019), thinking Trump had no chance of winning the presidency, labelled him “…a phony and a fraud” adding “…his promises are as worthless as a degree from Trump University.''  They did (briefly) make up, apparently without “multiple choice” Mitt having to drop to his knees (although that was never confirmed or denied), the former president endorsing Romney’s successful 2018 mid-term campaign to replace Orrin Hatch (1934-2022) as a senator for Utah. 

Donald Trump and "multiple choice" Mitt Romney, Jean-Georges Restaurant, Trump International Hotel & Tower, New York, 2016.

Trump’s endorsement for the Senate seat was however little more than a pat on the head for a well-behaved vassal.  A little after Trump won the 2016 election, Romney, rather as King Henry IV (1050–1106; King of Germany from 1054-1105, Holy Roman Emperor from 1084-1105) made his pilgrimage to Canossa to seek forgiveness from Pope Gregory VII (circa 1015–1085; Pope of the Roman Catholic Church and ruler of the Papal States 1073-1085), turned up at the Trump International Hotel & Tower New York to pay homage and, essentially, beg for a job.  “I had a wonderful evening with President-elect Trump” Romney gushed after dinner with Trump at the hotel’s Jean-Georges restaurant.  “We had another discussion about affairs throughout the world, and these discussions I’ve had with him have been enlightening and interesting and engaging. I’ve enjoyed them very, very much.”  Clearly Romney wanted to be secretary of state, the US’s chief diplomat.  That would have been an interesting assignment, given that in decades of public life Romney had shown scant evidence of original thought, so he’d have been Trump’s errand-boy, parroting a foreign policy not of his own creation, most observers concluded his desire for an important job outweighed his dislike for Trump.  What he thought being the international emissary for a man he’d earlier condemned as “neither the temperament nor the judgment to be president” either didn’t cross his mind or didn’t matter because he just wanted an important job.  Trump missed the opportunity to appoint Romney which was a shame because he’d have been a fine addition to a cabinet which might have included Rudy Giuliani as attorney-general, Sarah Palin as treasury secretary, Newt Gingrich as defense secretary (Ted Cruz an obvious choice as CIA director).  Something like that, truly a ministry of all the talents, would have been good to watch.

Serial phoney tans on Lindsay Lohan (although it's suspected the magazines and web sites sometimes, deepened the color saturation for a more dramatic look; the preferred term is "fake tan".  In fairness however, the redheads and other freckled folk should avoid the sun and use spray-on and other tanning products in preference to any form of radiation, natural or artificial.  An even more desirable option is to embrace the pale ascetic, and alluring look and one which offers glittering opportunities to contrast with dark fabrics, rubies, emeralds and sapphires.   

Phoney Time: One of the "Time magazine covers" prominently once displayed in several Trump golf courses; wholly phoney, they’ve since been removed.  By 2024, Mr Trump had twice been named Time's "Person of the Year" so the old photo frames from the golf courses can be re-used.

In A Brief History of Time (1988), English theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking (1942-2018) used the concept of "imaginary time" as a conceptual tool to illustrate certain aspects of his theories but imaginary covers of Time magazine are something different.  Imaginary time has been misunderstood and, given the mysteriousness of much of which it's used to describe, that's perhaps understandable.  What it is is a mathematical representation of time used to build models of the relationship between special relativity and quantum mechanics, expressed using equations written with what mathematicians call imaginary numbers.  For most of us, it replaces one impenetrable idea with another but between consenting mathematicians and cosmologists in the privacy of their labs, it's a hoot.      

Friday, May 29, 2026

Burl & Burr

Burl (pronounced burl)

(1) A small knot or lump in wool, thread, or cloth.

(2) A dome-shaped growth on the trunk of a tree; a wart-like structure which can be 1 m (39 inches) or more across and .5 m (19 inches) or more in height; typically harvested and sliced to make the intricately patterned veneers used in furniture or car interiors.

(3) To remove burls from (cloth) in finishing (which technically means the same as to de-burl).

(4) In Scottish, Australian and NZ slang (1) an attempt; to try (especially in the phrases “give it a burl” & (2) “going for a burl” (going for a drive in a car) (both largely archaic and the latter restricted to the antipodes).

1400–1450: From the late Middle English burle (a small knot or flaw in cloth), from the Old French bouril & bourril (flocks or ends of threads which disfigure cloth), from the Old French bourre & burle (tuft of wool) and akin to the Medieval Latin burla (bunch, sheaf), from the Vulgar Latin burrula (small flock of wool), from the Medieval Latin burra (flock of wool, fluff, coarse hair; shaggy cloth).  The source of the Latin forms is unknown.  The slang forms are probably from the Scottish birl (a twist or turn) but use in this sense seems now to be restricted to Scotland (or those with a Scottish accent) and the South Island of New Zealand.  The large, rounded outgrowth on the trunk or branch of a tree can be highly prized if on a species (most famously walnut) where the timber of a burl develops the swirling, intricate patterns which are used as thinly sliced veneers in the production of furniture and other fine products, notably as trim in the interiors of cars.  Burls develop from one or more twig buds, the cells of which continue to multiply but never differentiate so the twig can elongate into a limb.  In American English, burl has since 1868 been used to describe "a knot or excrescence on a walnut or other tree" but burr is now often used interchangeably while "burlwood", once common, seems now restricted to industry use and commerce.  Burls rarely cause harm to trees but careless (often unlawful) harvesting can cause damage.  The adjective burly (a man large, well-built and muscular) is unrelated and of uncertain origin; the related noun is used of this quality and not the character of timber.  The noun, verb & adjective burlesque is also unrelated.  Burl is a noun & verb, burler is a noun and burled & burling are verbs; the noun plural is burls.  

European burr (or burl) walnut with extensive “bud eyes”.

Burl was productive in English although some forms have a tangled history.  The adjective burly is derived from the circa 1300 borlich (excellent, noble; handsome, beautiful), probably from the Old English borlice (noble, stately (literally "bowerly", ie fit to frequent a lady's apartment)).  The sense evolved by circa 1400 to mean "stout, sturdy" and later "heavily built".  Some etymologists also suggest a connection between the Old English and the Old High German burlih (lofty, exalted) which was related to burjan (to raise, lift).  In Middle English, it was applied also to objects (even transitory things like cloud formations) but has long been restricted to people.   The noun burlesque (piece composed in burlesque style, derisive imitation, grotesque parody) had been in use since the 1660s, the earlier adjective (odd, grotesque), from the 1650s, from the sixteenth century French burlesque, from the Italian burlesco (ludicrous), from burla (joke, fun, mockery), presumably from the Medieval Latin burra (trifle, nonsense (literally "flock of wool" and thing something light and trivial)).  The more precise adjectival meaning "tending to excite laughter by ludicrous contrast between the subject and the manner of treating it" is attested in English by 1700.  Comedy and burlesque represent the two great traditions of representational ridicule, the former draws characters in conventional form, the latter by using a construct quite unlike themselves.  As long ago a 1711, one critic described burlesque as existing in two forms, the first represents mean persons in accoutrements of heroes, the other describes great persons acting and speaking like the basest among the people.  By the late nineteenth century, it typically meant "travesties on the classics and satires on accepted ideas" and vulgar comic opera while the modern sense of something risqué ("a variety show featuring striptease) is an invention of American English which co-evolved during the same era and became predominant by the 1920s.

Burrs (or burls) on a tree.  Burls should not be confused with galls which are small and form along twigs and leaves.  Burls are much larger and form on trunks and branches as an integral part of the tree.  Galls grow outside and are independent of the tree.

The noun burlap (coarse, heavy material made of hemp, jute, etc., used for bagging) dates from the 1690s, the first element probably from the Middle English borel (coarse cloth), from the burel or the Dutch boeren (coarse), although there may have been some confusion with boer (peasant).  The second element, -lap, meant "piece of cloth".  There has been debate about the noun hurly-burly (originally hurlyburly) (commotion, tumult) which in the 1530s was apparently an alteration of the phrase hurling and burling, a reduplication of the fourteenth century hurling (commotion, tumult), from the verbal noun of hurl.  William Shakespeare (1564–1616) had hurly (tumult, uproar) and the early fifteenth century hurling time was the name applied by chroniclers to the period of tumult and commotion around Wat Tyler's (circa 1341–1381; a leader of the 1381 Peasants' Revolt in England) rebellion.   In the early nineteenth century a hurly-house was said to be a "large house in a state of advanced disrepair" and there is presumably some connection with the dialectal Swedish hurra (whirl round) but it’s all quite murky and whether burly in this context is related to burl in the sense of something rough or merely coincidental a rhyme is uncertain.

Burr (pronounced bur)

(1) A rough or irregular protuberance on any object, as on a tree (spelled also as burl).

(2) A small, handheld, power-driven milling cutter, used by machinists and die makers for deepening, widening, or undercutting small recesses (technically called burr grinders which, with a revolving disk or cone with abrasive surfaces are used to smooth burr holes).

(3) In metal fabrication, a protruding, ragged edge raised on the surface of metal during drilling, shearing, punching, or engraving (spelled also as buhr); a blank punched out of a piece of sheet metal.

(4) A washer placed at the head of a rivet.

(5) In ceramics, a fragment of brick fused or warped in firing.

(6) In any form of engineering, to form a rough point or edge on.

(7) In structural phonetics, (1) a pronunciation of the r-sound as a uvular fricative trill, as in certain Northern English dialects (of which the Northumberland is an exemplar) or the retroflex r of the West of England, (2) a pronunciation of the r-sound as an alveolar flap or trill, as in Scottish English or (3) any pronunciation popularly considered rough or non-urban.

(8) To speak with a burr (to speak roughly, indistinctly, or inarticulately) (can be applied neutrally or as a (usually class-loaded) disparagement.  The use to describe the classic Scottish pronunciation is merely descriptive and thus usually neutral although it can be modified such as "...spoke in a strong and almost incomprehensible Scottish burr". 

(9) A whirring sound or rough, humming sound.

(10) In the sense of a broad ring on a spear or tilting lance (placed below the grip to prevent the hand from slipping), a variant of burrow (in obsolete sense: borough) (dating from the sixteenth century and now rare except in historic reference).

(11) In geology, a mass of hard siliceous rock surrounded by softer rock.

(12) A sharp, pointy object, such as a sliver or splinter (regionally specific).

(13) As bur; a seed pod with sharp features that stick in fur or clothing (similar to hayseed).

(13) In anatomy, the ear lobe (archaic).

(14) In zoology, the knot at the bottom of an antler (analogous with the burrs (or burls) on trees.

1375–1425: From the late Middle English burre (possibly related to the Old English byrst (bristle)), burrewez (plural) & buruhe (circle), a variant of brough (round tower), an evolutionary fork of which became the Modern English broch.  It was cognate with the Danish burre & borre (burdock, burr) and the Swedish borre (sea-urchin).  The spelling burr was a variant of the original bur, the addition probably a tribute by the written to the spoken long R sound, the use in phonetics noted from the 1750s, presumably both imitative and associative, the sound being thought of as rough like a bur; the onomatopoeic form may be compared with the French bruire.  The original idea of "rough sound of the letter -R" (especially that common in Northumberland) was later extended to "northern accented speech" in general and was soon integrated into the English class system as one of many class identifiers.  It may be the sound of the word is imitative of the speech peculiarity itself, or it was adapted from one of the senses of bur (the late fourteenth century phrase “to have a bur in (one's) throat” was a figure of speech suggesting the choking sensation or huskiness associated with having something rough caught in the windpipe) but the authoritative Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes that despite the similarity, the Scottish -r- is a lingual trill, not a true burr.  Burr is a noun & verb, burred & burring are verbs and burrish, burrless & burrlike are adjectives; the noun plural is burrs.

1962 Facel Vega Facel II.

Powered by Chrysler V8s, the Facel Vegas (1954-1964) were France's finest cars of the post-war years and followed the template of the trans-Atlantic hybrids (a powerful (and cheap) US V8, atop a bespoke platform clothed with stylish European coachwork) which flourished until the first oil crisis in 1973 but were in many ways a "cut above most", featuring aluminum panels and stainless steel rather than chrome trim.  The equipment levels were lavish with leather and interior appointments of the highest quality but one curiosity was the extensive "burl walnut" was actually painted metal, so well executed by Facel's craftsmen it demanded a inspection to reveal the nature of the material.  Facel production ended in 1964, the company bankrupted by the flood of warranty claims which flowed from the chronic unreliability of the French-built four-cylinder engine adopted for a smaller range.  The Facellia (1960-1964) was a good idea because the market for such a thing existed but by the time Facel had re-engineered it to used reliable power-plants (a Volvo four and Austin-Healey six), the debts had become unserviceable and the company was doomed.

1969 Lincoln Continental Mark III (plastic wood).

By the mid 1960s Detroit mostly had abandoned the use of timber.  The internal frames went first, only a handful of low-volume specialist vehicles still using the technique when production resumed in the post-war years.  Next to go were the partial-timber bodies, the best known of which were the "woodie" ("woody" once preferred the preferred used in the UK but "woodie" seems now global, presumably because most such surviving wagons were US-built) station wagons although there were also high-priced convertibles and sedans, the latter pair appealing on the basis of the look but those prepared to pay a premium proved a vanishing breed and that was understandable because the manufacturers recommended an annual re-varnishing, a tiresome task and a financial imposition even in an age when unit labor costs were low.  None were left by 1951 and the station wagons followed within a few years as improved production techniques made "all metal construction" a cheaper path to follow.  However, inexplicable though it may have been to the rest of the planet, Americans liked the "woodie" look on pick-ups (some car-based) and especially station wagons so for decades the manufacturers happily supplied the market with "faux woodies" which were created by gluing on 3M's Di-NOC appliqué, framed by fibreglass spars, all components designed to look like timber.  Sometimes with (limited) success and sometimes not, there were even convertibles, an attempt to cash in on any lingering nostalgia for what was around in the days of the administration of Harry S Truman (1884–1972; POTUS 1945-1953).

1970 Lincoln Continental Mark III (real wood).

In the 1960s, as the "real stuff" became rare, "plastic wood" did proliferate in interiors and increasingly it was "faux" rather than "fake" in that often it was obviously phoney although in the higher-priced lines more effort often was taken to try to fool people.  One strange example was Ford's Lincoln Continental Mark III, produced over three seasons with the design imperative having been: "Put a Rolls-Royce grill on a Thunderbird."  Astonishingly profitable because in terms of engineering it was exactly that and not a great deal more, its success inspired Ford to upgrade a few aspects and one change was to replace the plastic wood in the interior with genuine walnut, once part of a tree.  For whatever reason, Ford opted not to emulate Jaguar or Rolls-Royce and use a burl walnut veneer, opting instead for a straight-grain timber which looked almost exactly like the previous year's plastic fittings.  A very close inspection would reveal the truth but it's doubtful many bothered and Ford must have reached the same conclusion, wondering why they bothered.  When the Lincoln Continental Mark IV was released in 1972, it kept the leather but reverted to a plastic wood that blatantly was phoney; over four seasons, it was a great success and is regarded still as the classis "land yacht".


Lindsay Lohan (top left) with luggage, on-location for the filming of Liz & Dick (2012); the car is a Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100, 1963-1981) four-door Pullman.  The early versions of the 600 had the most timber trim.

Buyers of the 600 could choose from a variety of timbers when ordering a 600 although the tale of one customer from the Middle East arriving at the factory with his preferred tree is believed apocryphal.  Not all opted for the burl walnut (Zebrano and the dramatic Macasar Ebony among the choices) and one true eccentric sent his 600 to a French coachbuilder to have all the factory’s timber covered in leather but, because the many other modifications included a vast, single-piece transparent Triplex panel spanning the entire length and width of the roof, the absence of walnut may not immediately be noticed.  Unfortunately, after 1967, the veneer no longer appeared on the instrument binnacle, replaced by a leather covering.  Officially, the explanation was the use had proved vulnerable to sun-damage on the W111 (1961-1971) and W112 (1962-1967) cabriolets which used a similar fitting but production costs were high because, with so many curves and crevasses, applying veneer to the binnacles was labour intensive so although the cabriolets were a small part of the model mix, the decision was taken to standardize a leather covering.  Especially on the W111 coupés & cabriolets the veneered binnacles are much admired and some have been retro-fitted to later models.

The circa 1300 bur (prickly seed vessel of some plants) from the Middle English burre was from a Scandinavian source, either the Danish borre, the Swedish hard-borre or the Old Norse burst (bristle), from the primitive Indo-European bhars.  In the 1610s, it was transferred to refer to a "rough edge on metal" which led ultimately to the use in phonetics and the name give to various tools and appliances.  The noun burstone dates from the late thirteenth century and was an adaptation from the Middle English burre, the stone so-named presumably because of its roughness.  Aaron Burr (1756–1836; VPOTUS 1800–1804) fled after killing a political rival in a duel and plotted to create an independent empire in the western US.  In 1807 he was acquitted on a charge of treason.  To remove a burr (typically in engineering or carpentry) is to deburr (or debur).  The homophones are Bur & brr.  The noun rhotacism dates from 1830 in the sense of “an extensive or particular use of 'r'”, from the Modern Latin rhotacismus, from the Ancient Greek rhotakizein, from rho (the letter -r-), from the Hebrew or Phoenician roth.  A technical adaptation from 1844 was the use to describe the conversion of another sound, usually "s" to "r" (as in Aeolian Greek, which at the end of words changed -s to –r, the related forms being rhotacize & rhotacization.  Regarding timber veneers, the conventional wisdom is that burl is American English while burr is used in the rest of the English-speaking world.  That’s not accurate although burl in this sense is an American innovation from 1868 and probably a useful one.  In the specialized arboreal branch of botany, the words cancer and canker were also once used to describe the growths on trees but these uses seem never to have extended beyond the profession.

1965 Jaguar Mark X (1961-1966, renamed as 420G 1966-1970) with the rare manual gearbox.  The Mark X never realized Jaguar's sales expectations in the US market but it could have been a great success if one potential development path had been followed.

Not all the Mark Xs & 420Gs had the burl walnut finish (many with a bland, honey-colored timber) but they are the most desired.  Like the E-Type (XKE, 1961-1974), the Mark X is a classic example of "1960s Jaguar syndrome": Another few months of development and an additional £40 spent on the production line and most of the problems wouldn't exist.  With the burl timber, the Mark X's interior was one of the most atmospheric of the era but although impressive in appearance, the dashboard's timber top rail obviously was a safety issue (it was a time when the wearing or even fitting of seatbelts wasn't obligatory and airbags were generations away) and when the 420G appeared in October 1966, a full-width (with central clock) padded section had replaced the upper wood; visual appeal sacrificed for safety.

1959 Bentley S1 Continental Two-Door Saloon (Design 7500) by H.J. Mulliner.

Before the marque’s late century revival of differentiation, the Continentals (1952-1965) were regarded by some dedicated aficionados as “the last ‘real’ Bentleys” although there was once a purist faction which held none had been built since Rolls-Royce assumed ownership in 1931 and undertook an elaborated form of “badge-engineering” which, by the mid-1960s, evolved to the point where a Bentley was listed at a few pounds less than the equivalent Rolls-Royce because “it took less time to manufacture the grill”, there being no other difference between the two.  In their day, the Continentals were among the most expensive cars available and being coach-built, although there were “standard body designs” there were many variations and detail differences so it may be no two exactly were alike.  The R-Type Continental (1952–1955) was the one which established the car’s reputation and there’s a high survival rate among the 208 units produced.  The S-Series Continentals (S1, S2, S3, 1955 to 1965) were more numerous with over 1,100 built and while the lines weren’t exactly avant-garde, compared with the contemporary Rolls-Royce models which showed obvious pre-war roots, they were quite rakish.  The interiors too were notable for the burl walnut trim that could be astonishingly ornate, even the instrument bezels sometimes delicately finished with a matching veneer.

Lindsay Lohan behind the wheel of 1972 AMC Javelin SST, photo-shoot for Cosmopolitan magazine's Work Issue, October 2022: dress and boots by Alexandre Vauthier (b 1971), earrings by Carolina Neves (b 1986), ring by Sauer, photographed by Ellen Von Unwerth (b 1954).

By 1972, the US manufacturers largely no longer attempted to make the fake wood look “realistic” and the obviously plastic appliqué became almost a motif in itself.  Like many manufacturers, AMC liked three letter designations and they also had a trim package called “SST” which, according to internal documents, stood for “Super Sports Touring” and not “Stainless Steel Trim” as has been suggested (although use was made of the metal for some of the bright-work so the assumption was not unreasonable).  Doubtlessly AMC expected some positive association in the public mind with the SST (supersonic transport) projects several US aerospace manufacturers were in the era pondering as competition for the Anglo-French Concord(e).  In another specialized field, those in carpentry concerned with fine veneers, there are further distinctions, some defining a burr as an English word meaning a type of growth on a side of a tree which is full of “bud eyes” (the most distinctive pattern associated with expensive veneers) while burl is of US origin and refers to any type of growth on the side of a tree, including burrs.   That would seem to suggest burl would thus include the healing growth over surface damage or broken branches.  Others, notably timber merchants seem most often to regard burls as any highly figured wood with twisted and contorted grain regardless of whether it comes from a growth on the side of a tree, root, stump, or has grown all the way up the trunk, and whether it contains bud eyes or not.  In commerce, this is doubtlessly useful because people buy timber for veneering on the basis of appearance rather than where it happened to grow.  It would of course be useful if one word could be accepted to mean the growth on a tree and the other the harvested timbers from these growths but, being English, such a logical distinction didn't evolve.

Saturday, October 15, 2022

Bus

Bus (pronounced buhs)

(1) A large motor vehicle, having a long body, equipped with seats or benches for passengers, usually operating as part of a scheduled service; sometimes called omnibus, motorbus or trolleybus

(2) A similar horse-drawn vehicle.

(3) A passenger automobile (or airplane in casual use) used in a manner resembling that of a bus.

(4) In electrical transmission, short for of busbar.

(5) In ballistics, the part of a MIRV (multiple independently-targetable re-entry vehicle (an exoatmospheric ballistic missile)) payload containing the re-entry vehicles, guidance and thrust devices.

(6) In astronautics, a platform in a space vehicle used for various experiments and processes.

(7) In computer architecture, a communication system that transfers data between components inside or between computers. This expression covers all related hardware components (wire, optical fibre, etc) and software, including communication protocols.

1832: A clipping of the French omnibus.  Omnibus dates from 1829 and was used to describe a "long-bodied, horse-drawn, four-wheeled public vehicle with seats for passengers", from the French voiture omnibus (carriage for all, common (conveyance)), from the Latin omnibus (for all), dative plural of omnis (all), ablative of omnia, from the primitive Indo-European hep-ni- (working), from hep- (to work; to possess) or hop- (to work; to take).  Bus was thus a convenient shortening to describe the (then horse drawn) forms of public transport and subsequent uses by analogy with transporting (even weightless) stuff is derived from this.  The present participle is omnibusing or omnibussing and the past participle omnibused or omnibussed; the noun plural is either omnibuses or (for the public transportation) omnibusses; the attractive omnibi unfortunately wholly non-standard.  The sense "to travel by omnibus" dates from 1838; the transitive meaning "transport students to integrate schools" is American English from 1961.  The meaning "clear tables in a restaurant" is first attested 1913, probably from the four-wheeled cart used to carry dishes. The electrical sense is derived from a figurative application of the automotive sense; the use in computer architecture followed this model.  “To miss the bus” in the figurative sense of a lost opportunity is from 1901 and credited as an Australian invention (although the OED lists a figurative “miss the omnibus” from 1886).  It was most famously used by Neville Chamberlain (1869–1940; UK prime-minister 1937-1940) during the "Phoney War".  On 5 April 1940, confident the previous eight months spent building up armaments meant the west was now invulnerable to invasion, Chamberlain felt sufficiently confident to declare to the House of Commons "Hitler has missed the bus".  The Wehrmacht invaded four days later.

The bus wars

For IBM, the decision in 1980 to adopt an open bus architecture for the original PC was a good idea at the time.  Anticipating the PC being a niche-market product, the open bus was seen as a way to encourage sales by encouraging smaller manufacturers to produce expansion boards (cards) but not involving IBM in what would be an activity of marginal profitability. However, the PC soon became a huge sales success and the open bus meant manufacturers were soon producing their own PCs, not just the expansion cards and by the mid-1980s, IBM weren’t best pleased to find of all the PCs being sold, relatively few were genuine IBMs.  Their response in 1987 was to develop a proprietary bus for the new range (the PS/2 PCs & the OS/2 operating system) which, unlike open architecture, would attract royalties from the cloners, the new bus called Micro Channel Architecture (MCA).  Technically MCA offered many advantages, most obviously an early implementation of the soon-familiar plug’n’play which (usually) worked surprisingly well as well as a twenty percent increase in bus speed.  Apart from the cost, the main drawback was the lack of backward compatibility; not only did third-party manufacturers have to re-tool to design and produce new motherboards & cards, consumers could not re-use their existing cards, something important at the time.

8-bit ISA (XT)
16-bit ISA (AT)
32-bit EISA
32-bit VESA
16-bit MCA
32-bit MCA




A pack of the biggest cloners didn’t like this and responded with their own design, an enhancement of the original AT (which they re-named Industry Standard Architecture (ISA)) called Extended Industry Standard Architecture (EISA) which either matched on felt only slightly short of the technical improvements provided by MCA.  EISA advantages were (1) cost breakdown, (2) it was free for anyone to use and (3) backward compatibility.  IBM wasn’t impressed, stressing the technical superiority of 16 & 32-bit MCA, noting a mixing of 8, 16 and 32-bit cards in the one bus would inevitability result in one device getting very hot, leading to what they called “…a silicon barbeque”.  For a while, the bus wars raged and while it’s true MCA was better, it wasn’t that much better so for many the additional costs were hard to justify.  Had the bus wars continued, it could have gone either way because while EISA was free, it was a cul-de-sac, it’s development potential limited whereas IBM could have both improved MCA and lowered its licensing fees.  However, the development of the the PCI (Peripheral Component Interconnect) bus rendered both MCA and EISA (and the short-lived VESA) obsolete.  When USB (Universal Serial Bus) devices became ubiquitous, the whole system board became unknown to all but the nerds.

Bus scene in Mean Girls (2004). 

Thursday, December 24, 2020

Illusion

Illusion (pronounced ih-loo-zhuhn)

(1) Something that deceives by producing a false or misleading impression of reality.

(2) The state or condition of being deceived; misapprehension.

(3) An instance of being deceived.

(4) In clinical psychology, a perception, as of visual stimuli (optical illusion), that represents what is perceived in a way different from reality.

(5) A very thin, delicate tulle of silk or nylon having a cobwebbed appearance, for trimmings, veils and similar designs.

(6) The act of deceiving; deception; delusion (mostly obsolete).

1340–1350: From the Middle English, from the Latin illūsiōn(em), stem of illūsiō, (irony, mocking), the construct being illūs(us), past participle of illūdere (to mock, ridicule) + lūd (play) + tus (past participle suffix) + iōn.  The suffic -ion was From the Middle English -ioun, from the Old French -ion, from the Latin -iō (genitive -iōnis).  It was appended to a perfect passive participle to form a noun of action or process, or the result of an action or process.  It was from the Latin lūd that English ultimately gained ludicrous, illudere meaning "to mock at" (literally "to play with").  The borrowing from Latin displaced the Old English dwimmer, from the Old English ġedwimor or dwimor (illusion, delusion, sleight, magic) and, as absorbed by both Medieval English & French, meaning tended towards “act of deception” rather than “mocking or irony” which was the Classical Latin form.  The English sense is reflected in the word’s use in Church Latin which is thought the source of the meaning-shift.  In modern English use, particularly since the rise of mass-market visual entertainment, to some extent the preponderant meaning has shifted back.  Illusion & illusionist are noun, illusionary, illusional and illusioned are adjectives; the noun plural is illusions.

English offers many variations on the theme; words like fantasy, hallucination and delusion all refer to false perceptions or ideas.  An illusion is either (1) a false mental image produced by misinterpretation of stuff that actually exists or (2) a deliberate creation in some form to create an impression of stuff in a way not real.  A mirage is a distortion of reality produced by reflection of light against the sky but in general use is widely deployed as a synonym for anything illusory. A hallucination is a perception of a thing or quality that is either wholly or partially unreal.  A delusion is a persistent false belief that need not have any basis.  A chimera is something which, while unreal, has many elements of the real and thus seems more plausible.  A fantasy is either (1) a fictional creation where one is aware of its untruth or (2) a fictional creation one believes.

The Illusion Panel

Used by fashion designers, the illusion panel is a visual trick which to some extent mimics the appearance of bare skin.  It’s done with flesh-colored fabric, cut to conform to the shape of wearer and the best known products are called illusion dresses although the concept can appear on other styles of garment.  Done well, the trick works, sometimes even close-up but it’s ideal for photo opportunities.  Lindsay Lohan illustrates the idea in three outfits:

Left: A gown from the Fendi Spring/Summer 2016 collection, worn at the Asian Awards, London, April 2016.  This may have been something of an "in joke" because although it looked like an illusion dress, the "cut-outs" literally were "cut out" and the skin was all Ms Lohan's own; fashion faking itself.  Reactions may have been something like on journalist’s comment to the Irish-born UK politician Brendan Bracken (1901–1958): “Everything about you is phoney. even your hair, which looks like a wig, isn’t.”  The playfulness continued above because above the modest cut at the midriff were translucent panels which created a nice effect, especially when in motion although opinion was divided on whether the geometric pattern was too busy for the concept, some suggesting a solid color or even some bold stripes might have lent better emphasis.

Centre: The Julien Macdonald (b 1971) green and blue sequin embellished mini dress with an open neckline was accented with a black hemline and came from the house's Fall 2013 collection.  Ms Lohan wore the piece at Gabrielle's Gala, Old Billingsgate Market, London, May 2014, provoking some comment about the choice not to retain the black belt with which it was paired on its catwalk debut and it's true that did work well with the hemline trim, width and shade of both matching.  However, what dominated the look was the illusion which was more a "wrap-around" than a panel and with things being that illusory, accessories really weren't demanded and probably it was more effective with neither belt nor necklace to distract.

Right: Dating from January 2013, the black Dion Lee (b 1985) cocktail dress used the technique featuring both the wearer's real skin (witness the off-the-shoulder silhouette) with illusion panels made of fabric of a matching hue; the shoes were Christian Louboutin (b 1964, he of the red soles) peep-toe booties.  It’s a classic example of why most think illusion dresses work best if tailored in solid colors with a marked contrast between material and skin tone.

Kylie Jenner (b 1997, left) in 2017 used the idea in what was (by the standards of her clan) quite subtle but trolls quickly realized the possibilities offered by digital editing (centre).  Swedish musician Tove Lo (Ebba Tove Elsa Nilsson, b 1987, right) actually enhanced the illusion with a T-shirt which included shadow effects so the look would be consistent even in settings where ambient light was unhelpful.  Pairing the T-shirt with an oversized, double-breasted teal blazer was a nice touch.

Ms Jenner’s interest in transparency is more than surface-deep.  In 2025, in response to a fan’s enquiry, she revealed (what could, in the social media age, be thought a kind of “product disclosure statement”) the technical details of her much-admired breast augmentation procedure:  Performed by plastic surgeon Dr Garth Fisher (b 1958), the silicone implants were a displacement of 445 cm3 with a “moderate profile” (a measure of “projection or fullness”), placed using the “dual plane” technique (in which the implant sits partially under the pectoral muscle and partially under the breast tissue).  According to Dr Fisher, the combination of a moderate profile and the dual plane method produces the “most natural look”.  While obviously, in a sense, an illusion, the result looked good enough to be “real” so according to theories of cognition, in another sense they are real.  Almost instantly, the combo was being spoken off as “the Kylie Special” but Dr Fisher cautioned the variables (implant construction & size, profile, installation technique etc) need to be assessed on a patient-by-patient basis because what suits one may not suit another.  Essentially, the advice was YMMV (your mileage may vary).

Model Kate Moss (b 1974) in a Stella McCartney (b 1971) illusion dress from her label’s Winter 2012 collection, London Eveningwear Presentation & Dinner, London, February 2012.

As a garment, an illusion dress is not technically difficult to cut or assemble but for its effect it relies on a close congruence between the colors of panel and the skin.  Assuming such fabrics are either available or can be dyed to suit, that’s fine for bespoke creations but in the vastly bigger prêt-à-porter (ready-to-wear) market, buyers are compelled to pick whatever is the closest match, the technique of choice being to alter the skin tone for the occasion, fake tanning product the usual choice which is fine if a darker hue is needed but when lightening that’s needed, the creams used temporarily to cover tattoos are said to work well, better even than the (now often controversial and in some cases dangerous) skin-lightening preparations popular in some markets.  On the catwalks, it's not unusual for creams and various forms of "tanners" to be used if it necessary to have skin-tone and fabric match.

Model Ashley Graham (b 1987, left) in cage bra with the focus on flesh under a "curtain reveal" and singer Ricki-Lee Coulter (b 1985 right) in a (sort of) dress with an illusion panel under the strappings.

The illusion industry variously exchanges and borrows motifs.  A cage bra is built with a harness-like structure which (vaguely) resembles a cage, encapsulating the breasts using one or more straps (which can recall the struts used in airframes or the futtocks which are part of nautical architecture.  Few actually use the straps predominately to enhance support and the effect tends to be purely aesthetic, some cage bras with minimal (or even absent) cup coverage and a thin band or multi-strap back.  Some things about cage bras can be illusory but the skin on show is usually real whereas when used over a skin-toned panel, the straps exist to enhance the illusion although, there’s no reason why they can’t also be structural, functioning effectively as an external bra.  

Illusion bra in red with flesh tone panels.

Many bras purposefully are designed to create an illusion of some sort (bigger, smaller (despite what men tend to believe the “minimizer” concept really is a thing), higher etc) but there is a class of cups which borrows its motif from the illusion dress and, like the dress, there’s an art to the illusion bra and a successful execution seems best achieved when adopting the “less is more” approach; smaller panels well-placed creating a more effective illusion than using too much surface area.  In some cases illusion bras are structurally identical to a conventional model, the only difference being the use of a flesh tone fabric in certain parts of the cup.  The most dramatic effect is achieved when built using the cage bra model but most implementations tend to be more modest.  To achieve the best match with human skin, the fabric of choice is often a de-lustred satin and given the cultural sensitivities, such things are no longer advertised with the phrase “skin-tone”.

The Great Illusion (1910) by Norman Angell (1972-1967) was first published in the United Kingdom in 1909 as Europe's Optical Illusion.  Angell’s theme was that the economies, financial systems, markets and supply chains of the world’s big industrial and military powers had become so inter-twined and inter-dependent that war had become impossible.  Angell proved that not only would war be unprofitable, in any big conflict, the victor would suffer at least as much as the vanquished so no nation would be so foolish as to start one.  Quickly, The Great Illusion was translated in eleven languages and in the optimistic world of early twentieth century Europe, it became a cult, its thesis a dogma.  The aristocrat commissioned to review the British Army after its disastrous performance in the Boer War (1899-1902) were understood instantly became an adherent to the idea that “new economic factors clearly prove the insanity of aggressive wars”, delivering lectures in which he pointed out that “a twentieth century war would be on such a scale… that its inevitable consequences of commercial disaster, financial ruin and individual suffering [would be] so pregnant with restraining influences” as to render the thought of war unthinkable.

Read even now, the wealth of examples he offered and the incontrovertibility of his argument seem convincing.  Unfortunately, Wilhelm II (1859–1941; Kaiser (Emperor) of the German Empire 1888-1918), although it’s known he received a copy of the book, was more influenced by one published in 1911 by the Prussian General Friedrich von Bernhardi (1849–1930) with the unambiguous title Deutschland und der Nächste Krieg (Germany and the Next War).  Bernhardi’s text is of great interest to students of military, diplomatic and political history but the casual reader can gain the necessary understanding merely by glancing at the table of contents, the uncompromising chapter headings including The Right to Make War, The Duty to Make War and World Power or Downfall.  In case anyone might have thought he had written a work of abstract theory, another chapter was titled Germany’s Historical Mission.   Describing war as a "divine business", his central two-pronged strategy was the one which would doom both the Second Reich and the Third: Wage wars of aggression and ignore treaties.

World War I (1914-1918) was something probably worse than even Angell had prophesized and in its aftermath the phrase “the war to end all wars” was popular although some of the delegates leaving Paris after the Treaty of Versailles (1919) weren’t so sanguine, reckoning all that had been gained was a truce with estimates of its duration ranging between 10-25 years.  Despite the cynicism however, the 1920s were the years in which the (now mostly forgotten) successes of the League of Nations (1920-1946) included the notion that war had been made not only unthinkable (both because of Angell’s analysis and the shock of what was then called "the World War") but actually unlawful.  It was a brief, shining moment and by 1933 Angell felt compelled to add to a revised edition of The Great Illusion the new theme of the need for collective defense.  Other things happened in 1933, the implications of which would mean that too would prove an illusion but that year, Angell was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.

Illusions however seem to be something to which men can’t help but be drawn and by the late twentieth century, as globalization 2.0 accelerated, another part of Angell’s conceptual framework gained a new audience.  Angell had noted the obvious: That the imperative of modern capitalism was profit, not romantic nationalism and that there was more to be gained from peaceful trade than attempts at conquest with its unpredictable outcomes.  By the 1990s, political commentator Thomas Friedman (b 1953) had reduced this to what came to be called the Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention (the idea that countries with McDonalds restaurants didn’t go to war with each other) and while that’s since been proved untrue (few rules apply in the Balkans), the point he was making was the same as Angell: That democracies run according to the rules of market capitalism don’t go to war with each other because the it’s too threatening to the hegemonic class which owns the means of production and distribution.

By the time Mr Putin (Vladimir Putin, b 1952, president or prime-minister of Russia since 1999) began his special military operation (the invasion which started the Russia-Ukraine war in 2022), it’s doubtful there were many left in Europe with illusions about the nature of man.  Unfortunately, it may be that in the Kremlin the reading of Bernhardi may not have gone beyond those first few bellicose chapters because deeper into his book, the author moved beyond the justification of “necessity” to the nuts and bolts of “method” for once one convinces one’s self one has a duty to make war, one must ensure it is waged with success.  To be successful he explained, the state must begin a war at “the most favourable moment” of its own choosing, striking “the first blow” in a manner which guarantees victory.  Mr Putin had illusions of his own, about the people of Ukraine, about the West and about the state of his own military.

In 2014, an illusion outfit attracted much comment when the Colombian women’s cycling team uniform was first seen at an event in Italy, held in honour of former Italian champion Michela Fanini (1973–1994).  Despite the appearance, it wasn’t a two-piece, the otherwise standard strip augmented by a (vaguely) flesh-coloured section across the lower torso and upper hips.  The photographs caused a stir and the unusual degree of international attention must have pleased the team’s sponsor, the city government of Colombia's capital, Bogota.  Innovations like this might be one way to redress the imbalance in the media coverage afforded to women's sport.