Ruin

Ruin (pronounced roo-in)

(1) The remains of a building, city etc that has been destroyed or that is in disrepair or a state of decay.

(2) A destroyed or decayed building, town, etc.

(3) A fallen, wrecked, or decayed condition; the downfall, decay, or destruction of anything.

(4) The complete loss of health, means, position, hope, or the like.

(5) Some substance or other thing that causes a downfall or destruction; blight.

(6) The downfall of a person; undoing.

(7) A person as the wreck of his or her former self; ravaged individual.

(8) The act of causing destruction or a downfall.

(9) To reduce to ruin; devastate; to bring (a person, company etc) to financial ruin; bankrupt; to damage, spoil, or injure (a thing) irretrievably.

(10) To induce (a woman) to surrender her virginity; deflower; loss of virginity by a woman outside marriage (mostly archaic).

(11) To fall into ruins; fall to pieces; to come to ruin.

1325–1375: From the Middle English noun rueyne & ruyen, from the Middle French ruwine, from the Latin ruīna (headlong rush, fall, collapse, falling down), the construct being ruere (violently to fall) + -īna (feminine singular of suffix –īnus).  The Middle English verb was ruyn & ruine, from the Middle French ruyner & ruiner or directly from the Medieval Latin ruīnāre, again a derivative of the Latin ruīna.  In the late Old English, rueyne meant "act of giving way and falling down" (a sense which didn't descend into the Middle English), again from the Latin ruina, source also of the Old French ruine (a collapse), the Spanish ruina and the Italian rovina which is a derivative of ruere (to rush, fall violently, collapse), from the primitive Indo-European reue- (to smash, knock down, tear out, dig up).  The sense of "descent from a state of prosperity, degradation, downfall or decay of a person or society" dates from the late fourteenth century while the general meaning "violent or complete destruction" (of anything) and "a profound change so as to unfit a thing for use" (of one's principles, one's goods etc) was first noted by the 1670s, something of an extension of the sense of "that which causes destruction or downfall", from the early fifteenth century.  The special meaning "dishonor of a woman" (essentially the same as "a fallen woman") dates from the 1620s.  Ruins in the sense of "remains of a decayed building or town" was from the mid-fifteenth century; the same sense was in the Latin plural noun.

The verb ruin emerged in the 1580s, first in the military sense of "reduce (a place) to ruin," transitive, from the noun ruin or the fourteenth century French ruiner and from the 1610s it came to mean also "inflict disaster upon" (someone) which extended by the 1650s to mean "bring to ruin, damage essentially and irreparably".  The intransitive sense of "fall into ruin" dates from circa 1600 but is probably now obsolete except for poetic use or as a literary device.  The still well-known financial sense of "reduce to poverty, wreck the finances of" was first noted in the 1650s.  The late fourteenth century adjective ruinous (going to ruin, falling to ruin) was from the Old French ruinos (which endures in Modern French as ruineux) and directly from the Latin ruinosus (tumbling down, going to ruin) from ruina.  The meaning "causing ruin, tending to bring ruin" was from the mid-fifteenth century and by 1817 it was understood almost exclusively to mean "excessively expensive", hence the still popular phrase "ruinously expensive".

The noun ruination is interesting.  It meant in the 1660s the "act of bringing to ruin, state of being brought to ruin" amd was the noun of action or state from the now rare or obsolete verb ruinate (to go to ruin) which had emerged in the 1540s from the Medieval Latin ruinatus, past participle of ruinare, again from the Classical Latin ruina.  Unlike flirtation, floatation, & botheration, ruination was not a hybrid derivative, being regularly formed from ruinate, the technical point being etymologists think it has the effect of a slangy emphatic lengthening of the noun ruin and that only because the parent verb ruinate (in common use 1550-1700) is no longer heard.  For that reason Henry Fowler (1858-1933) in his authoritative Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) suggested "ruination is better avoided except in facetious contexts".

As a noun, ruin means the remains of a destroyed or decayed place, especially a half-standing building or city.  In the latter sense, it’s used most commonly in the plural, often as “ancient ruins”.  When used as a verb, ruin usually means “to spoil or destroy” although the once use to describe “the loss of virginity by an unmarried woman” is now rare.  Related words, sometimes used a synonyms, include bankruptcy, wreckage, collapse, insolvency, wreck, extinction, demolition, destruction, wipe out, mar, impoverish, overwhelm, injure, shatter, exhaust, demolish, crush, decimate, wrack & deplete.  The synonym of ruin most often used is destruction.  Ruin and destruction both imply irrevocable and either widespread or intense damage although, the pattern of use in Modern English seems to have evolved to use destruction (on a scale large or small) to emphasize the act while ruin emphasize the consequence: the resultant state.  Through use, there’s probably also the implication that a ruin is the result of natural processes of time whereas destruction suggests a sudden violent act or event.  The ruins from Antiquity exist both in what remains from the process of decay and as they have been "restored", usually to reflect the expectations of tourists.  For those who like the idea of what the original resembled, there's the odd replica. 

Die Ruinenwerttheorie: Albert Speer and the theory of ruin value.

Ruin value is a concept from architectural theory.  It suggests the design of representational architecture should be such that when eventually the structures crumble or collapse, what remains should be aesthetically impressive ruins which will long endure without any need of maintenance.  The idea was promoted by Hitler’s (1889-1945; German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) architect, Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945), who first discussed it while planning for the 1936 Summer Olympics and subsequently published a paper as Die Ruinenwerttheorie (The Theory of Ruin Value).  Underling the idea was not merely the stated rationale for the theory but also the assertion such structures would tend inherently to be better built and more imposing during their period of use.  The notion was supported by Hitler, who planned for such ruins to be a symbol of the greatness of his thousand-year Reich, just as the remains from antiquity were symbolic of Hellenic and Roman civilizations.

Bank of England as a ruin (1830) by draftsman and artist Joseph Gandy (1771–1843)

In his memoirs (Inside the Third Reich, 1969) Speer laid claim to the idea, saying it was an extension of German architect Gottfried Semper's (1803-1879) views on the use of "natural" materials and the avoidance of iron girders.  Speer’s post-war writings however, although invaluable, are not wholly reliable or entirely truthful, even on technical matters such as armaments and architecture.  Ruin value was an older concept and one much-discussed in nineteenth century Europe, the romantic movement in art and architecture much drawn to, if not exactly what antiquity was, then certainly a neo-classical construct of what they imagined it to be.  This fascination even sometimes assumed a built form: a "new ruined castle" was actually built in the Landgraviate of Hesse-Kassel in the eighteenth century and the motif affected the architect commissioned to design the Bank of England building.  When Sir John Sloane (1753-1837) presented the bank's governors with three oil sketches of the planned buildings one of them depicted it as new, another when weathered after a century and a third, what the ruins would look like a thousand years hence.

Architectural ruins, a vision (1798), water color on paper by Joseph Gandy

A watercolor imagining the Rotunda at the Bank of England (designed by Soane and completed in 1798), drawn in the year of its completion but showing the structure in the style of a Roman ruin.  The small figures of men with pickaxes working around a fire amidst the ruins recall the calciatori of Rome, who pillaged marble from its ancient sites to be burned into lime. This atmospheric watercolor recalls Piranesi's views of ruin with its dramatic point of view, fallen fragments in the foreground.  This drawing was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1832, thirty-four years after it was executed, at the time of Soane’s retirement as architect to the Bank, under the romantic title of Architectural Ruins–A Vision (RA 1832, number 992) and accompanied by lines from Prospero's speech (Act IV, scene 1) in Shakespeare's The Tempest:

The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces,

the solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit shall dissolve.

The ruin that never was.  A model of Speer's Volkshalle (people’s hall), centrepiece of Germania, the new capital of the Reich to be built over Berlin.

Speer based his design on a sketch made by Hitler himself in 1925, inspired by the Pantheon in Rome which had been created for an empire that lasted centuries.  Clever use of steel and lightweight concrete behind stone cladding permitted the scale of the structure.  The Volkshalle would have risen some 950 feet (290m), the oculus in the centre of the dome 150 feet (46 metres) in diameter, so big that Michelangelo’s dome of St Peter’s could have been lowered through it.  The volume of the building was such that it would have its own micro-climate and weather patterns; clouds would have formed, and rain drops falling on the masses below.   The Volkshalle symbolized an empire planned to endure a thousand years but the Third Reich fell after barely a dozen years and neither Volkshalle nor Germania were built and at war's end, surrounding the proposed site, Berlin lay in ruins.

Vermiculate

Vermiculate pronounced ver-mik-yuh-leyt (verb) & ver-mik-yuh-lit or ver-mik-yuh-leyt (adjective)

(1) To work or ornament with wavy lines or markings resembling the form or tracks of a worm.

(2) Worm-eaten, or appearing as if worm-eaten.

(3) Figuratively, of thoughts, insinuating; subtly tortuous.

1595–1605: From the French vermiculaire (plural vermiculaires), from the Latin vermiculātus (in the form of worms; inlaid in wavy lines), past participle of vermiculor (I am full of worms; wormy) & vermiculārī (to be worm-eaten), from vermiculus (little worm; grub; wormlet), from vermis (worm), from the primitive Indo-European root wer (to turn; to bend.  The noun vermiculite describes the micaceous, hydrated silicate mineral and was named in 1814, based on its fibrous nature and the reaction observed when heated, the tendency being to expand into worm-like shapes; vermiculite is used in insulation and as a medium for planting.  Vermiculate, vermiculate & vermiculated are verbs & adjectives, vermiculation & vermiculite is a noun, vermicular & vermiculous are adjectives and vermiculating is a verb; the noun plural is vermiculations.

The adjective vermiculative (tending towards being vermiculated) is non-standard; when vermiculate & vermicular are used to refer to thought processes, the suggestion is of something tortuous, intricate or convoluted.  Other terms often used in this context include circuitous, convoluted, indirect, labyrinthine, meandering, serpentine, twisting, winding, coiled, curly, curved, sinuous, anfractuous, bent, crooked, flexuous, involute, mazy, meandrous & roundabout, all based on the picture of the irregular tunnels worms burrow in soil, the idea being of paths which are far from the shortest distance between the beginning and end of travel.  This is a figurative application of zoological behavior and not a slight on worms which have their own agenda.  Because it's so often used as a slight, it should probably not be used to describe deep or complex thoughts, however vermiculous they might appear.

Vermiculated terracotta block, Standard Oil Company Building, Jackson, Mississippi.

Although most associated with the vermiculated work seen in decorative stone masonry, the irregular grooves intended to resemble worm tracks have interested others including mathematicians and chaos theorists.  Engineers have also explored the idea and during the 1970s, tyres were developed with grooves cut in a random pattern (not to be confused with the asymmetric tread pattern Michelin introduced in (1965) on their XAS) rather than the usual structured geometric layout.  The idea was to lower the harmonic resonances created by the tendency of sound waves to be intensified by the recurring patterns; it was about reducing the noise generated and the theory proved sound, the acoustic difference detectable with the sensitive equipment used in laboratories but in real-world use the difference proved imperceptible.  The tyres were briefly available but, offering no advantage, the concept wasn’t pursued.

York Water Gate, England.

In architectural detailing, vermiculation is a form of surface rustication, used usually to create a decorative contrast between the rusticated work, ordinarily confined to the street level of a building (ie within the usual human field of vision) and the less finely dressed work above.  The effect is created with irregular holes and tracts being carved onto a façade, the purpose inherently decorative although some architects do like the idea of representing worms eating their way through the stone, collapsing a building into rubble and ruin, an allusion to the impermanence of architecture, conveying the message that all that is built must eventually crumble and fall.

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

This notion of unavoidable impermanence has disturbed the minds of the more megalomaniacal in the profession, Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; later, as Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945 turning to war crimes & crimes against humanity) even presenting what he called Die Ruinenwerttheorie (a theory of ruin value) in which he argued it was important the monumental structures then being planned were designed in such as way that, thousands of years hence, as inevitability gradually they collapsed, what remained would be still aesthetically impressive and endure in this form even without maintenance.  Speer’s theory wasn’t new although the spin he felt compelled to attach was inventive.  What he stressed was that buildings designed in accordance with Ruinenwerttheorie were inherently finer works and more imposing during their period of use, an wise thing to emphasize because many less sophisticated types (and there were quite a few) the Führer’s entourage thought appalling the suggestion that anything in their “thousand year Reich” might one day crumble and fall.  Speer however was imagining his reputation surviving well beyond a single millennium and understood the mind of Hitler in such matters, appealing to his vision of what they were creating enduring as monuments to the greatness of the Third Reich, just as the ruins from Ancient Greek and Rome were symbolic of those civilizations.  Hitler concurred with Ruinenwerttheorie after Speer showed him a sketch of one of the gigantic works they planned as an ivy-covered ruin, the drawing very much in the vein of the pictures of Roman ruins well-known to the Führer.  What had scandalized his acolytes, pleased Hitler.

Red carpet vermiculation: Catherine O'Hara (b 1954), Venice International Film Festival, Venice, September 2024 (left) and Emmy Awards, Los Angeles, September 2024.  For red carpet (and related) purposes, the advantage of vermiculated fabric is it can be revealing or demure and, if need be, both within the same garment, the "look" defined merely by adjusting the channel widths. 

40 Bedford Square, London.

As a form of detailing, vermiculation became prevalent in the mid nineteenth century and in the technical language of architecture is often called vermicelli russification, the patterns typically deployed in stucco on cornerstones or keystones around a doorway, lending a bold textural interest to otherwise unrelentingly standardized surfaces, offering a juxtaposition with forms and lines derived from classical principles.  Although not popular as an embellishment until relatively recent times, the origin of the motif is ancient.  One of the first forms of formal architecture was the clay hut in which wormtracts were visible on the surface, made as the industrious little creatures weaved their way in and out of the earth that made up the structure.  Under the heat of the sun, the clay dried and the patterns set, creating what came to be thought an ornamental effect.  It’s from these modest structures that western architecture picked up the idea while constructing ever larger edifices, the vermiculation contrasting with the smooth, sanitized stone surfaces and becoming part of the grammar of classical buildings.

Irish Stock Exchange, Dublin.

Deconstructionists too have provided their own analysis of vermiculation beyond the relief provided from what can be an austere streetscape, claiming it “…represents a valuable counterpoint to symbolic representations of power and authority that pervade the architecture of many western cities”, one case-study focusing on the Irish Stock Exchange (1859) on Angelsea Street, Dublin which has strips of vermiculation on its granite façade.  That site was said to be a place “...where speculation of financial markets is the day’s work, the pattern might be cast as an unnoticed omen of the neoliberal collapse and loss of Irish economic sovereignty in late 2010”.  That’s probably about as abstract as anthropomorphism in stonework gets but there were in the early twentieth century those who devoted some effort to finding hidden meanings in the vermiculated patterns on the facades on Masonic lodges.  The findings were either never published or suppressed by the Freemasons.

Rack

Rack (pronounced rak)

(1) A framework of bars, wires, or pegs on which articles are arranged or deposited.

(2) A fixture containing several tiered shelves, often affixed to a wall.

(3) A vertical framework set on the sides of a wagon and able to be extended upward for carrying hay, straw, or the like in large loads.

(4) In certain cue sports (pool, snooker), a frame of triangular shape within which the balls are arranged before play; the balls so arranged.

(5) In butchery & cooking, the rib section of a fore-saddle of lamb, mutton, pork or veal (historically used also of the neck portion).

(6) In nephology (the branch of meteorology concerned with cloud formation, structure, classification, and dynamics), as “cloud rack”, a group of drifting clouds.

(7) In machinery, a bar, with teeth on one of its sides, adapted to engage with the teeth of a pinion rack and pinion or the like, as for converting circular into rectilinear motion or vice versa (nest known as the “rack & pinion” steering apparatus used in motor vehicles.

(8) An instrument of torture consisting of a framework on which a victim was tied, often spread-eagled, by the wrists and ankles, to be slowly stretched by spreading the parts of the framework; there were many variations.

(9) As “on the rack”, originally a reference to the torture in progress, later adopted figuratively to describe a state of intense mental or physical suffering, torment, or strain.

(10) In equestrian use, the fast pace of a horse in which the legs move in lateral pairs but not simultaneously (the “horse's rack”).

(11) In military use, a fixed (though sometimes with some scope for movement for purposes of aiming), a framework fixed to an aircraft, warship or vehicle and used as a mounting for carrying bombs, rockets, missiles etc.

(12) In zoology, a pair of antlers (more commonly used of wall mounted trophies (eight-point rack etc)).

(13) In slang, ruin or destruction (a state or rack).

(14) In slang, a woman's breasts (often with a modifier).

(15) In slang, a large amount of money (historically a four-figure sum).

(16) In military, prison and other institutional slang, a bed, cot, or bunk.

(17) In slang, to go to bed; go to sleep.

(18) In slang, to wreck (especially of vehicles).

(19) In slang, as “to rack up”, a sudden or dramatic increase in the price of goods or services.

(20) In slang, to tally, accumulate, or amass, as an achievement or score (often expressed as “racked up”).

(21) In vinification (wine-making), to draw off (wine, cider etc) from the lees (to “rack into” a clean barrel).

(22) To torture; acutely to distress or torment (often expressed as “racked with pain”).

(23) To strain in mental effort (often expressed as “racked her brain”).

(24) To strain by physical force or violence; to strain beyond what is normal or usual.

(25) To stretch the body of a victim in torture by the use of a rack.

(26) In nautical use, to seize two ropes together, side by side:

(27) In cue sports, as “rack 'em up”, to place the balls on the tales in the correct spot with the use of a rack.

1250–1300: From the Middle English noun rakke & rekke, from the Middle Dutch rac, rec & recke (framework) and related to the Old High German recchen (to stretch), the Old Norse rekja (to spread out), the Middle Low German reck and the German Reck.  The use to mean “wreck” dates from the late sixteenth century and was a phonetic variant of the earlier wrack, from the Middle English wrake, wrache & wreche, a merging of the Old English forms wracu & wræc (misery, suffering) and wrǣċ (vengeance, revenge).  Except as a literary or poetic device (used to impart the quality of “vengeance; revenge; persecution; punishment; consequence; trouble”) or in some dialects to mean “ruin, destruction; a wreck”), wrack is now archaic.  The equestrian use (the fast pace of a horse in which the legs move in lateral pairs but not simultaneously (the “horse's rack”)) dates from the 1570s and the origin is obscure but it may have been a variant of “rock” (ie the idea of a “rocking motion”).  Nephology (the branch of meteorology concerned with cloud formation, structure, classification, and dynamics) adopted “cloud rack” (a group of drifting clouds) from mid-fourteenth century use in Middle English where the original spellings were rak, recke & reck, from the Old English wrǣc (what is driven) and related to the Gothic wraks (persecutor) and the Swedish vrak.  The use in vinification (wine-making), describing the process of drawing off (wine, cider etc) from the lees (to “rack into” a clean barrel) dates from the mid fifteenth century and was from the Old Provençal arraca , from raca (dregs of grapes), ultimately from the by then obsolete Old French raqué (of wine pressed from the dregs of grapes).  The use in butchery & cooking (the rib section of a fore-saddle of lamb, mutton, pork or veal (historically used also of the neck portion)) dates from the mid sixteenth century and is of uncertain origin but was probably based upon either (1) the cuts being placed on some sort or rack for preparation or (2) having some sort or resemblance to “a rack”.  Rack is a noun & verb, racker is a noun, racking is a noun, verb & adjective, racked is a verb and rackingly is an adverb; the noun plural is racks.

Racking them up: Lindsay Lohan playing snooker.

In idiomatic use, the best known include “racking one’s brains” (thinking hard), “going to rack and ruin” (to decay, decline, or become destroyed”, “on the rack” (originally a reference to the torture in progress, later adopted figuratively to describe a state of intense mental or physical suffering, torment, or strain) and “racked with pain” (again an allusion to the consequences of being “racked” “on the rack”).  The “rack” as a description of a woman’s breasts is one in a long list of slang terms for that body part and dictionaries of slang are apparently divided on where it’s the breasts, genitals or buttocks which have provided the most inspiration for the creation of such forms.  The Australian slang “rack off” is an alternative to the many other forms popular in the country used to mean “please go away” including “sod off”, “piss off”, “fuck off”, “bugger off” etc; depending on context and tone of voice, these can range from affectionate to threatening.

Luggage rack & ski rack page in the 1968 Chrysler Parts Accessories Catalog (left) and promotional images for the 1968 Chrysler Town and Country (right).  Because the full-sized US station wagons could be fitted with a third seat in the back compartment (thus becoming eight-seaters), the roof-rack was sometime an essential fitting.

In transport, luggage racks were among the earliest “accessories” in that they were additions to hand & horse-drawn carts and carriages which enabled more stuff to be carried without reducing the passenger-carrying capacity.  There were “roof racks” and “trunk racks”, both there for the purpose of carrying trunks, secured usually with leather straps.  The most obvious carry-over to motorized vehicles was the roof-rack, still a popular fitting and still sometimes fitted as standard equipment to certain station wagons (estate cars).

1972 De Tomaso Pantera.

Although it wouldn’t have been something the designer considered, the mid-engined De Tomaso Pantera (1971-1992) had a rear section so suited to the provision of a luggage rack that Gran Turismo (a after-market accessories supplier) produced one which was as elegant as any ever made.  Because of the location directly behind the rear window, when loaded it obviously would have restricted rearward visibility so in certain jurisdictions doubtlessly it would have been declared unlawful but it one lives somewhere more permissive, it remains a practical apparatus.  Ironically, the Pantera had probably the most capacious frunk (a front mounted trunk (boot)) ever seen in a mid-engined sports cars and one easily able to accommodate the luggage the car’s two occupants were likely to need for a weekend jaunt.  Even if superfluous however, in the collector market it’s an interesting period piece and well-designed; easily removed for cleaning, the four mounting brackets remain affixed to the deck lid.

1973 Chrysler Newport two-door hardtop (left) and 1973 Triumph Stag (right).

Larger cars of course carried more than two and if they travelled over distances, usually they carried luggage.  The full-sized US cars of the early 1970s were very big and had a lot of trunk space but many, with bench seats front and rear were configured as genuine six-seaters and that could mean a lot of luggage.  Accordingly, both the manufacturers and after-market suppliers in the era offered a range of luggage racks.  Upon debut, the lovely but flawed Triumph Stag (1970-1978) was a much-praised design which offered the pleasure of open-air motoring with the practicality of four seats (although those in the rear were best suited for children) but the sleek, low lines did mean trunk space was not generous and luggage racks were a popular fitting.

1959 Austin-Healey Sprite (left) and 1971 Chevrolet Corvette Convertible LS5 454/365 (right).

There have been cars (and not all of them were sports cars) with no trunk lid.  In the case of the Austin-Healey Sprite (1958-1971), the lack of the structure on the early versions (1958-1961) was a cost-saving measure (the same rationale that saw the planned retractable headlights replaced by the distinctive protuberances atop the hood (bonnet) which lent the cheerful little roaster its nickname (bugeye in North American and frogeye in the UK & most of the Commonwealth).  It had additional benefits including weight reduction and improved structural rigidity but the obvious drawback was inconvenience: to use the trunk one had to reach through the gap behind the seats.  It was easy to see why luggage racks proved a popular accessory, sales of which continued to be strong even when later versions of the Sprite (1961-1971) and the badge-engineered companion model the MG Midget (1961-1980) gained a trunk lid.  Curiously, the Chevrolet Corvette between 1953-1962 did have a trunk lid but when the second generation was released for the 1953 model year, it was removed from the specification and not until the fifth generation in 1998 did the return.  By then, the moment of the Corvette luggage rack had passed but in the early 1970s they were still often fitted and in the modern collector market, it’s one of those accessories, the very sight of which seems to upset some.

Variations of the theme: ski rack (left), bike rack (centre) and surfboard rack (right).  The luggage rack had proved an adaptable platform and specialist versions are available for many purposes but in many cases the same basic structure can be used as a multi-purpose platform with “snap-on” fittings used to secure objects of different shapes.  The Porsche 911 was an early favorite on the ski fields because of the combination of and air-cooled engine and the rear-engine/rear wheel drive configuration which provided good traction in icy conditions.

Markers of the state of civilization: Gun rack in the back window of pickup truck (left) and silver plate toast rack by Daniel & Arter of Birmingham, circa 1925 (right).

The toast rack has been in use since at least the 1770s and, like the butter knife, is one of the markers of civilized life.  That aside, their functionality lies in the way they provide a gap between the slices, allowing water vapour to escape, preventing it condensing into adjacent slices and making them soggy while also maintaining a buffer of warm air between so the cooling process is slowed.  In the way of such things, there have over the years been design ranging from the starkly simple to the extravagant but the some of the most admired are those from the art deco era of the inter-war years.

The gun rack in the back of a pickup truck is now a classic MAGA (Make America Great Again) look but the devices have been in use for decades and were always popular in rural areas with a tradition of hunting.  Whether such things are lawful depends on the jurisdiction.  In the US, some states have an “open carry” law which means one is free to carry certain firearms unconcealed and this includes gun racks which are similarly unrestricted; in states where an “open carry” permit is required, a separate permit is required for a gun rack to be used in a vehicle while in jurisdictions with no “open carry” legislation, gun racks are also banned except for those able to obtain a specific exemption.  So, it can be that travelling across state lines can involve some additional effort, even if one is authorized to carry a firearm in both placed.  Usually, this demands the weapon being unloaded and encased in an area inaccessible to both driver and passengers.

The rack as a marker of the state of civilization: Cuthbert Simpson, Tortured on the Rack in the Tower of London (1558), published in from Old England: A Pictorial Museum (1847) and reprinted in The National And Domestic History Of England by William Aubrey (circa 1890).

The most famous of the many apparatus of torture which proliferated during the Middle Ages (and beyond), the rack was an interrogation tool which remained in use until the eighteenth century.  Although the rack is most associated with the Spanish Inquisition, it was popular also in England as a device to extract confessions to various crimes, especially heresy.  The designers were imaginative and racks were produced in many forms including vertical devices and wheels but the classic version was a flat, bed-like structure, made with an open, rectangular wooden frame with rollers or bars at each end to which the wrists and ankles of the accused (or “the guilty” as often they were known) were secured.  The rollers moved in opposite directions by the use of levers, and the victim’s joints slowly and painfully were separated.

RACK is used as an acronym, one being “Random Act of Conditionless Kindness” which seems not substantively different from the better known “random act of kindness” although presumably it imparts some depth of emphasis, given “random acts of conditional kindness” may be a more commonly observed phenomenon.  In certain sub-sets of the BDSM (Bondage, Discipline (or Dominance) & Submission (or Sadomasochism) community, RACK means either “Risk-Aware Consensual Kink” or “Risk-Accepted Consensual Kink).  Both describe a permissive attitude towards conduct which is to some degree “risky”, undertaken on the basis of “a voluntary assumption of risk”.  In that it differs from the tastes of BDSM’s SSC (Safe, Sane & Consensual) sub-set which restricts it proclivities to things “not risky”.  The RACK practitioners acknowledge the difficulties inherent in their proclivities, what they do not a distinction between “safe” & “unsafe” but rather “safer” and “less safe” (ie degrees of danger).  What this means is that in extreme cases there are potential legal consequences because while the implication or RACK is that one can “contract out” of the statutory protections usually available in such interactions, in the case of serious injury or death, the usually legal principles would apply.

Doom

Doom (pronounced doom)

(1) Fate or destiny, especially adverse fate; unavoidable ill fortune.

(2) Ruin; death.

(3) A judgment, decision, or sentence, especially an unfavorable one.

(4) In Christian eschatology, the Last Judgment, at the end of days.

Pre 900: From the Middle English dome & doome from the Old English dōm (a law, statute, decree; administration of justice, judgment; justice, equity, righteousness; condemnation) from the Proto-Germanic domaz (source also of the Old Saxon and Old Frisian dom, the Old Norse domr, the Old High German tuom (judgment, decree), the Gothic doms (discernment, distinction), possibly from the primitive Indo-European root dhe- (to set, place, put, do), (source also of the Sanskrit dhā́man (custom or law), the Greek themis (law) and the Lithuanian domė (attention)).  It was with the Old Norse dōmr (judgement), the Old High German tuom (condition) and the Gothic dōms (sentence).  A book of laws in Old English was a dombec. 

In all its original forms, it seems to have been used in a neutral sense but sometimes also "a decision determining fate or fortune, irrevocable destiny."  The Modern adverse sense of "fate, ruin, destruction" began in the early fourteenth century and evolved into its general sense after circa 1600, influenced by doomsday and the finality of the Christian Judgment. The "crack of doom" is the last trump, the signal for the dissolution of all things and the finality of the Christian Judgment Day, is most memorably evoked in the Old Testament, in Ezekiel 7:7-8.

(7) Doom has come upon you, upon you who dwell in the land. The time has come! The day is near! There is panic, not joy, on the mountains.

(8) I am about to pour out my wrath on you and spend my anger against you. I will judge you according to your conduct and repay you for all your detestable practices.

Doom Paintings

Doom paintings are the vivid depictions of the Last Judgment, that moment in Christian eschatology when Christ judges souls and send them either to Heaven or Hell.  They became popular in medieval English churches as a form of graphical advertising to an often illiterate congregation, dramatizing the difference between rapture of heaven and the agonies of hell, consequences of a life of virtue or wickedness.  During the English Reformation, many doom paintings were destroyed, thought by the new order rather too lavishly Romish.

Weltgericht (Last Judgement) (circa 1435)); Tempera on oak triptych by German artist Stefan Lochner (c1410–1451).

Fate

Fate (pronounced feyt)

(1) That which unavoidably befalls a person; their fortune or “lot in life”.

(2) The universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed; the decreed cause of events; time.

(3) That which is inevitably predetermined; the inevitable fortune that befalls a person or thing; destiny; the ultimate agency which predetermines the course of events.

(4) A prophetic declaration of what must be.

(5) A common term for death, destruction, downfall or ruin; a calamitous or unfavorable outcome or result.

(6) The end or final result (usually in the form “the fate of”).

(7) In Classical Mythology, as “the Fates”, the three goddesses of destiny (Clotho, Lachesis & Atropos), known to the Greeks as the Moerae and to the Romans as the Parcae.

(8) To predetermine, as by the decree of fate; destine (used in the passive and usually in the form “fated to”).

(9) In biochemistry, the products of a chemical reaction in their final form in the biosphere.

(10) In biology, as fate map, a diagram of an embryo of some organism showing the structures that will develop from each part.

(11) In embryology, the mature endpoint of a region, group of cells or individual cell in an embryo, including all changes leading to that mature endpoint (the developmental pathway).

1325–1375: From the Middle English fate (“one's lot or destiny; predetermined course of life” or “one's guiding spirit”), from the Old French fate, from the Latin fātum (oracular utterance; what has been spoken, utterance, decree of fate, destiny), originally the neuter of fātus (spoken), past participle of fārī (to speak), from the primitive Indo-European root bha- (to speak, tell, say).  The Latin fata (prediction (and the source of the Spanish hado, the Portuguese fado and the Italian fato)) was the plural of fatum (prophetic declaration of what must be; oracle; prediction), from fātus (“spoken”), from for (to speak) and in this sense it displaced the native Old English wyrd (ultimate source of the modern English weird).  When a Roman Emperor said “I have spoken” it meant his words had become law, subject only to the dictates of the gods, a notion in 1943 formalized in law in Nazi Germany when a decree of the Führer was declared to be beyond any legal challenge.

In Latin, the usual sense was “that which is ordained, destiny, fate”, literally “that which was spoken (by the gods) and often was used in some bad or negative way, (typically as some kind of harbinger of doom) and this association with “bad luck, ill fortune; mishap, ruin; pestilence or plague” carried over into Medieval Latin and from there to many European languages including English.  From the early fifteenth century it became more nuanced, picking up the sense of “the power or guiding force which rules destinies, agency which predetermines events” (often expressed to mean a “supernatural predetermination” and presented sometimes as “destiny personified”.  The meaning “that which must be” was first documented in the 1660s and that led (inevitability as it were) to the modern sense of “final event”, dating from 1768.   The Latin sense evolution came from “sentence of the Gods” (theosphaton in the Greek) to “lot, portion” (moira in the Greek, personified as a goddess in Homer; moirai from a verb meaning “to receive one's share”).  The Latin Parca (one of the three Fates or goddesses of fate) was the source of the French parque (a fate) and the Spanish parca (Death personified; the Grim Reaper) and may be from parcere (act sparingly, refrain from; have mercy upon, forbear to injure or punish (which etymologists suspect was a euphemism) or plectere (to weave, plait).  The Moerae (the Greek plural) or the Parcre (the Roman plural) were the three goddesses who determined the course of a human life (sometimes poetically put as “the three ladies of destiny”) and were part of English literature by the 1580s).  Clotho held the distaff or spindle; Lachesis drew out the thread and Atropos snipped it off, the three goddesses controlling the destinies of all.

The verb in the sense of “to preordain as if by fate; to be destined by fate” was first used in the late sixteenth century and was from the noun; two centuries earlier the verb had meant “to destroy”.  The adjective fateful dates from the 1710s and was from the noun, the meaning “of momentous consequences” noted early in the nineteenth century and both “fateful & “fatefully” were used by poets of the Romantic era with the meaning “having the power to kill” which belong usually to “fatal”, the attraction being the words better suited the cadence of the verse.  Just as the noun fate enjoyed some broadening and divergences in its meanings, other adjectival use emerged including fated from the 1720s which meant “doomed” (and “destined to follows a certain course” & “set aside by fate”), fatiferous (deadly, mortal) from the 1650s (from the Latin fatifer (death-bringing) and the early seventeenth century fatific & fatifical (having the power to foretell) from the Latin fatidicus (prophetic).  Fate is a noun & verb; fatalism, fatefulness & fatalist are nouns, fated & fating are verbs, fatalistic & fateful are adjectives and fatalistically & fatefully are adverbs, the noun plural is fates.

Fate has in English evolved to enjoy specific meanings and there’s really no exact synonym but the words destiny, karma, kismet; chance, luck, doom, fortune, lot, foreordain, preordain & predestination are related in sense while the antonyms (with a similarly vague relationship) include choice, free will, freedom & chance.  The idiomatic phrases using “fate” includes “as fate would have it” (the same meaning as “as luck would have it”, an allusion to the randomness of events and how so much good fortune in life is a matter of chance”; fate-fraught or fatefraught (fateful), quirk of fate (same as “quirk of fate”, a usually unfortunate (often ironic) change of circumstances or turn of events; seal someone's fate (to prevent (a decision, event, etc.) from being influenced or changed by a wilful act; to pre-empt someone's future actions by deciding the course of events ahead of time); sure as fate (with certainty); tempt fate (to court disaster; to take an extreme list); fate worse than death (which can be used literally (eg being sent to the Gulag in comrade Stalin’s time was often described thus on the basis a quick death was better than a slow one or the phrase “the living will envy the dead”, used often of those imagined to have survived a nuclear war) or figuratively (eg “going to a country & western concert is a fate worse than death” although that one may not be too far from literal.  The words “fate”, “destiny” & “doom” all relate to the hand of fortune (usually in the adverse) that is predetermined and inescapable and although they’re often used interchangeably, there are nuances: Fate stresses the irrationality and impersonal character of events; the randomness of what happens in the universe.  Destiny emphasizes the idea of an unalterable course of events, and is used of outcomes good and bad but rarely of the indifferent.  Doom is unambiguously always something bad, especially if final and terrible.  Doom may be brought about by fate or destiny or it may be something all our own fault.

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

Many notable political and military leaders like to damn the hand of fate when it doesn’t favour them but the word is often invoked when things look good.  In July 1939, the vice-chief of staff of the Imperial Japanese Army (Lieutenant General Shigeru Sawada (1887–1980)), impressed by the dynamism of the fascist states in Europe declared : “We should resolve to share our fate with Germany and Italy”.  In that he was of course prophetic although the fate of the three Axis powers a few years on wasn’t what he had in mind.  By 1939 however, things in Tokyo had assumed a momentum which was hard for anyone in the Japanese military or political establishment to resist although there were statesmen aware they were juggling in their hands the fate of the nation.  Yōsuke Matsuoka (1880–1946; Japanese foreign minister 1940-1941), almost as soon as the signatures has been added to the Japanese-German Anti-Comintern Pact (1936) observed: “It is characteristic of the Japanese race that, once we have promised to cooperate, we never look back or enter into an alliance with others.  It is for us only to march side by side, resolved to go forward together, even if it means committing double suicide”.  Even by the standards of oriental fatalism that was uncompromising and Matsuoka san probably reflected on his words in the days after the attack on Pearl Harbor (7 December 1941) when he lamented: “Entering into the Tripartite Pact was the mistake of my life.  Even now I still keenly feel it. Even my death won't take away this feeling.”

In the Western philosophical tradition, the difference between fatalism and determinism is sometimes misunderstood.  In essence, what fatalism says is that one does not act as one wills but only in the pre-ordained way because everything is pre-ordained.  Determinism says one can act as one wills but that will is not of one’s own will; it is determined by an interplay of antecedents, their interaction meaning there is no choice available to one but the determine course.  So, fatalism decrees there is an external power which irresistibly dictates all while determinism is less assertive; while there are sequences of cause and effect which act upon everything, they would be ascertainable only to someone omniscient.  That’s something to explore in lecture halls but not obviously of much use in other places but the more important distinction is probably that determinism is an intellection position that can be mapped onto specific situations (technological determinism; political determinism; structural determinism et al) where as fatalism, ultimately, is the world view that would should abandon all hope of influencing events and thus repudiate any responsibility for one’s actions.  Determinism is a philosophy, fatalism a faith.