Strand

Strand (pronounced strand)

(1) To drive or leave (a ship, fish etc) aground or ashore.

(2) To bring into or leave in a helpless position (usually used in the passive).

(3) A shore or beach (now poetic, archaic or regional).

(4) A small brook or rivulet (archaic).

(5) A passage for water; a gutter (Northern England & Scotland)

(6) A foreign country (archaic).

(7) One of a number of fibres, threads, or yarns, plaited or twisted together to form a rope, cord, or the like.

(8) A rope made of such twisted or plaited fibres.

(9) A fibre or filament, as in animal or plant tissue.

(10) A thread or threadlike part of anything.

(11) By extension, a constituent element in a complex argument.

(12) A street in the Westminster district of west-central London, running from Trafalgar Square to Fleet Street parallel to the Thames, so-called because it was the “north strand” (ie shore) of the river; also the areas immediately surrounding the street.

Pre 1000:  From the Middle English strand or strond, (sea shore), from Old English strand (shore), related to the Dutch strand and Middle High German strant (beach) and the Latin sternere (to spread).  The Old English was borrowed from the Proto-Germanic strandaz & strandō (edge, rim, shore), source also of the Danish and Swedish strand (beach, shore, strand), the Old Norse strönd (border, edge, shore) the Middle Low German strant and the German and Dutch strand (beach).  The origin of the Proto-Germanic is uncertain but may be from the primitive Indo-European ster- (to broaden or stretch out), the application of which was “the parts of a shore that lies between the tide-marks” and it applied formerly also to river banks, hence The Strand in London, the name dating from 1246.

Françoise Hardy (b 1944), The Strand, London, 1966.

Historically, in Middle English it described things riparian, the use to refer to “individual fibres of a rope, string etc” or human hair first recorded circa 1500, probably from the Old French estran, from a Germanic source akin to the Old High German streno (lock, tress, strand of hair) from which is derived the Middle Dutch strene (a skein, hank of thread) and the German strähne (a skein, strand) of unknown origin.  The meaning "to drive aground on a shore" from which flowed the figurative sense of "leave lost or helpless" as of a ship left aground by the tide, was first recorded in 1837 and survives in the words stranded & stranding. Descendants of the Germanic root appear in many European languages including Hungarian, Romanian & Serbo-Croatian and it’s a not uncommon proper noun in the Nordic lands, both as a surname and locality name.

The stranded phrase

In linguistic anthropology, a stranded phrase is a once-popular saying that has fallen from use.  The idea is shared with economics where the term stranded asset is used to describe assets held which have been subject to a premature or unanticipated devaluation in their value, the most commonly quoted potential examples being vast, undeveloped coal-fields which decades ago were highly valued, to be capitalized over a productive life which might be forty or more years but which may shortly become worthless because of shifts in the market.  Phrases can fall from favor for structural reasons or just become unfashionable in the way something like “stone the crows” is archaic, stranded in the time of its popularity, sometimes surviving only as period pieces of an era.

The phrase bunny boiler is derived from the film Fatal Attraction (1987) in which an obsessive, spurned woman, in a fit of frenzied jealousy, boils in a pot the pet rabbit of her erstwhile lover's daughter.  The epithet was coined to refer to women unable to remain rational at the end of a romantic relationship and predictably, is only ever applied to women.  In pre-web times, variations in colloquial language tended to spread more slowly than those powered by the latter-day ubiquity of the net and “bunny boiler” seems not to have entered general use until 1994.  The USENET groups which maintain online archives of such things notes bunny boiler was not used on their (pre-web) platform and while there’s no reliable information about use on the web before 1994, given that non-academic use of the internet then was a tiny fraction of today, such data might anyway not be indicative of general use but nor are there more than a handful of instances in the archives of US and British newspapers before that date.  Indeed, the first recorded instance in print is from an interview the rabbit-slaughtering actress Glenn Close (b 1947) gave to the US magazine Ladies' Home Journal in December 1990 during which she observed "…there's nothing like portraying a psychopathic bunny-boiler to boost one's self-esteem”.  If that was the first publication, that’s a plausible reason why it took so long after 1987 to disseminate and it makes sense because the epithet isn't in the original dialogue or promotional material and nor does it appear in any contemporary review.

Despite that, some sources do say it pre-dates 1990 but provide no evidence and all agree it came into wider use only after 1994 when the web began to assist dissemination, a process similar to that described by epidemiologists to illustrate the progress of viruses which, if achieving critical mass, can become an epidemic… or worse.  Bunny boiler thus began to enjoy a rapidity of infection from 1994, use peaking between 1998-2003, then declining to become stranded in its era.  The explanation offered by etymologists is that too much time elapsed between the source in 1987, the origin of the phrase circa 1990 and the mid-decade adoption so it lacked the newness and novelty these things usually require; its historic moment had passed.  Still, for men it remains useful, any needy, possessive, clingy or even talkative woman can be labelled potential or suspected bunny boiler.

Strands of Lindsay Lohan’s hair in an array of colors.

The idea is of course not new.  For some reason, the (anyway incorrectly quoted) phrase “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” is often attributed to Shakespeare, possibly because it’s plausibly in his voice or maybe because for most the only time the Middle English “hath” is seen is in some Shakespearian quote so the association sticks.  The real author however was actually Restoration playwright William Congreve (1670–1729) who coined the phrase for his 1697 play The Mourning Bride, the protagonist of which, although becoming a bit unhinged by the cruel path of doomed love, doesn’t resort to leporidaecide.  Congreve’s line, “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned” was good but actually was a more poetic rendition of a similar but less elegantly expressed version another playwright had used a year earlier.  The Mourning Bride is also the source of another fragment for which the bard is often given undeserved credit: “Music has charms to soothe a savage breast” although that’s often bowdlerized as “Music has charms to soothe a savage beast”.

Fishtail

Fishtail (pronounced fish-teyl)

(1) To swerve or skid from side to side, as the rear end of a car.

(2) In aviation, to slow an airplane by causing its tail to move rapidly from side to side.

(3) Such a maneuver.

(4) A gas burner having two jets crossing each other so as to produce a flame resembling a fish's tail.

(5) A device having a long, narrow slot at the top, placed over a gas jet, as of a Bunsen burner, to give a thin, fanlike flame.

(6) In jewelry design, a setting consisting of four prominent triangular corner prongs to hold the stone.

(7) In dance, a step in ballroom dancing in which the feet are quickly crossed

(8) In fashion design, a dress or skirt with a flowing, scalloped hemline sometimes longer at the back than at the front, flaring usually from about the knee.

(9) In hair-styling, a two-stranded braid.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English, the construct being fish + tail.  Fish the noun (strictly a vertebrate which has gills and fins adapting it for living in the water but the word came to be more widely applied, zoologically) was from the Middle English fisch, from the Old English fisċ (fish), from the Proto-West Germanic fisk, from the Proto-Germanic fiskaz (fish) (source also of the Old Saxon, the Old Frisian & the Old High German fisc, the Old Norse fiskr, the Middle Dutch visc, the Dutch vis, the German Fisch & the Gothic fisks) and related to the West Frisian fisk, the Danish, Norwegian & Swedish fisk, the Irish iasc & the Latin piscis; Root probably either the primitive Indo-European peysḱ- (fish) or pisk (a fish) but at least one etymologist, on phonetic grounds, has suggested it might be a northwestern Europe substratum word.  Fish the verb is from the Old English fiscian (to fish, to catch or try to catch fish), and was cognate with the Old Norse fiska, the Old High German fiscon, the German fischen & the Gothic fiskon, all derived from the noun.  In popular use, since Old English, fish has been used to apply to "any animal that lives entirely in the water," hence shellfish & starfish although, in English there’s an early fifteenth century document which describes fishes bestiales as "water animals other than fishes").  Today, water mammals like dolphins are presumed fish by some.  The plural is fishes, but in a collective sense, or in reference to fish meat as food, the singular fish is commonly used as a plural so, except for the pedants, that battle is lost.  Regarding the heavens, the constellation Pisces is from the late fourteenth century.

The figurative sense of the fish out of water "person in an unfamiliar and awkward situation" is attested from the 1610s, the use extended from circa 1750, usually with a modifier (strange fish, queer fish, cold fish) but from at least 1722 it was used in reference to a person considered desirable to "catch", a sense preserved in the phrase “plenty more fish in the sea”, a form picked up by one dating site.  To drink like a fish is from 1744 and the “fishy story” (an incredible or extravagant narration) was first noted in 1819, an US colloquial form based on the tendency of those who fish to exaggerate the size of “the one that got away”.  Having “other fish to fry” (having other things which demand one’s attention) is from the 1650s.  In optics, the fish-eye lens was patented in 1959.  Fish-and-chips seem first to have been advertised in 1876 and fish-fingers were first sold in 1962.

Tail was from the Middle English tail, tayl & teil (hindmost part of an animal), from the Old English tægl & tægel (tail), from the Proto-Germanic taglaz & taglą (hair, fiber; hair of a tail) (source also of the Old High German zagal, the German Zagel (tail), the dialectal German Zagel (penis), the Old Norse tagl (horse's tail) and the Gothic tagl (hair), from the primitive Indo-European doklos, from a suffixed form of the roots dok & dek- (something long and thin (referring to such things as fringe, lock of hair, horsetail & to tear, fray, shred)), source also of the Old Irish dual (lock of hair) and the Sanskrit dasah (fringe, wick).  It was cognate with the Scots tail (tail), the Dutch teil (tail, haulm, blade), the Low German Tagel (twisted scourge, whip of thongs and ropes; end of a rope), the dialectal Danish tavl (hair of the tail), the Swedish tagel (hair of the tail, horsehair), the Norwegian tagl (tail), the Icelandic tagl (tail, horsetail, ponytail), and the Gothic tagl (hair). In some senses, development appears to have been by a generalization of the usual opposition between head and tail.  The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) suggest the primary sense, at least among the Germanic tongues, seems to have been "hairy tail," or just "tuft of hair," but already in Old English the word was applied to the hairless "tails" of worms, bees etc.  The alternative suggestion is that the notion common to all is that of the "long, slender shape."  It served as an adjective from the 1670s.  A long obsolete Old English word for tail was steort.

The sense in common law of tail (limitation of ownership) which endures mostly in the law of real property began as a legal term in English in the early fourteenth century (late thirteenth in Anglo-French & Anglo-Latin); in almost all cases it was a shortened form of entail.  The verb tail dates from the 1520s and was derived from the noun, the sense originally "attach to the tail", the meaning "move or extend in a way suggestive of a tail" dating from 1781.  The meaning “secretly to follow" is a US colloquial creation from 1907, borrowed from the earlier sense of "follow or drive cattle”.  The saying "tail off” (diminish) was noted in 1854.

The tail of a coin (reverse side; opposite the side with the head, hence “heads or tails”) appears to have been first described that was in the 1680s.  The more predictable "backside of a person, buttocks" is recorded from circa 1300, the slang sense of "pudenda" is from the mid-fourteenth century and as a term to refer to an “act of copulation with a prostitute”, it was first noted in 1846.  From circa 1933 it was applied to mean "woman as sex object" is from 1933.  In printing and typography, tail was the technical term to describe the descending strokes of letters from the 1590s.  As “tails”, the formal dress for men (coat with tails), the first advertisements appeared in 1857.  The tail-race, the part of a mill race below the wheel is from 1776.  The phrase “to turn tail” (take flight) dates from the 1580s and was originally from falconry, later to be adopted by the Admiralty and the army.  The image of the “tail wagging the dog” is from 1907 and was part of the language of political science.

Lindsay Lohan in fishtail dresses.  Herbie: Fully Loaded premiere, El Capitan Theatre, Hollywood Boulevard, Los Angeles, June 2005; Vanity Fair Oscar Party, Morton’s West Hollywood, Los Angeles, March 2006; Liz & Dick premiere, Beverly Hills Hotel, Los Angeles, November 2012.

A fitted bodycon construction, the distinguishing feature of the fishtail dress is the flowing, scalloped hemline, often longer at the back and tending to flare from around the knee-line.  Because a successful implementation of the style depends most on length and volume, most fishtail dresses are floor length, many better described as gowns although some have tried shorter variations.  The bodice can vary but fitted waists are the most frequently seen.  The design was originally called the fishtail train and the early versions, fist seen in the 1870s, all featured the asymmetric extension at the back and it wasn’t until the turn of the century the flaring lowered from mid-thigh to the knee.  Prior to the Victorian era, trains were not unknown but they were then worn only as evening gowns and were really an addition to existing garments.

Some in the industry refer to the “fishtail” as the “trumpet” or the more charming “mermaid” and there are those who insist on distinguishing between the three, based usually from the point at which the flare begins but the distinction escapes the many who use the terms interchangeably, regarding all as variations on a theme.  However described, the great advantage of the lines is that they create, on a suitable frame, an hourglass figure and one with a range of definition, all determined by the point at which the flare begins and the volume of material chosen for the fishtail; done properly it can render a feminine and flawless silhouette, perhaps the most persuasive reason it’s chosen by so many brides.  Sore however are probably too easily persuaded, the fishtail really not suited to those either too short or too wide.  Successfully to wear a fishtail, it’s not necessary to be truly statuesque or actually thin but beneath a certain height, one starts to look like part of a condiment set and one has to be realistic about what a corset can achieve.  The recommendation is that the style can be worn by those of at least average height and it works best on those who are slim with small or medium size hips.  A good seamstress can adapt things to better suit other shapes but there’s a law of diminishing returns the more one is removed from the ideal; a deep but narrow cut can disguise only so much.

The fishtail braid is a variation of the French braid, both with a smoothly woven appearance, the fishtail dividing the hair into two sections instead of the French three.  The technique essentially is that a small piece of each section is passed over to the other, the process repeated until the braid assumes its shape; in the nineteenth century this was known as the "Grecian braid".  The fishtail braid appears intricate because it's built with small strands but hairdressers say it's a simple, and essentially repetitive, nine-step process.  On great advantage of the fishtail is it lends itself well to a looser braid, one which over a couple of days will tend usually (and gradually) to deconstruct into a deliberately messy look, the attraction is technical as well as aesthetic: the messy fishtail is uniquely suited to act as a framework for hair extensions.

(1) Split the hair into two equal strands

(2) Pick up a small section of hair on the right side of the right strand

(3) Cross the small section over and add it to the left strand

(4) Pick up a small section of hair on the left side of the left strand

(5) Cross the small section over and add it to the right strand

(6) Pick up a small section of hair on the right side of the right strand

(7) Cross the small section over and add it to the left strand

(8) Pick up a small section of hair on the left side of the left strand

(9) Cross the small section over and add it to the right strand

(10) Repeat steps 2-9 until the end is reached.

Probe

Probe (pronounced prohb)

(1) To search into or examine thoroughly; question closely; an investigation, especially by a legislative committee, of suspected illegal activity.

(2) To examine or explore with or as if with a probe; the act of probing.

(3) A slender surgical instrument for exploring the depth or direction of a wound, sinus, or the like.

(4) In aerospace, an unmanned exploration spacecraft.

(5) A projecting, pipe-like device on a receiving aircraft used to make connection with and receive fuel from a tanker aircraft during refuelling in flight.

(6) A device, attached by cord to an oven that can be inserted into food so the oven shuts off when the desired internal temperature of the food is reached.

(7) In biochemistry, any identifiable substance that is used to detect, isolate, or identify another substance, as a labelled strand of DNA that hybridizes with its complementary RNA or a monoclonal antibody that combines with a specific protein.

(8) In electronics, a lead connecting to or containing a measuring or monitoring circuit used for testing; a conductor inserted into a waveguide or cavity resonator to provide coupling to an external circuit

1555–1565: From the Medieval Latin proba (examination (“test” in Late Latin)), derivative of probāre (to test, examine, prove), from probus (good).  The Spanish tienta (a surgeon's probe) came from tentar (try, test).  The dual meanings in Latin ((1) instrument for exploring wounds etc and (2) an examination) persist in English.  The sense "act of probing" is from 1890, from the verb; the figurative sense of "penetrating investigation" is from 1903.  The use to describe a "small, unmanned exploratory spacecraft" is attested from 1953; unrelated to this is the curious popularity of aliens subjecting humans to examinations with anal probes in stories of alien abduction.  Probe is a noun & verb, probing & probed are verbs, probeable is an adjective and probingly is an adverb; the noun plural is probes.

The Voyager 1 space probe launched by NASA in 1977.

Originally (with companion probe Voyager 2) a twelve-year mission, it’s expected to remain a functional scientific instrument until 2025 and is now some 24 billion km (15 billion miles) away, the most distant human-made object from Earth (only our radio waves have travelled further).  There are some who claim the probes have already reached inter-stellar space while other astronomers  maintain the edge of our solar system extends much further than was once thought and they're travelling still through a sort of cosmic limbo.  The Voyager probes, even after they're long inert, may continue their journeys for thousands or millions of years because, although the universe is a violent, destructive swirl, there is vast distance between threatening stuff.

Of the many inconsistencies in English spelling, none must be seem more mystifying to anyone learning the language than those words affected by the “mute e rule”: the inflections and derivatives formed from words ending in a “silent e”.  The question always is: to e or not to e?  Deciding whether to retain or omit the last letter is easier than once it was because dictionaries seem now to be more consistent in their approach, presumably one of the benefits of their shift to becoming on-line resources although, for historic reasons, we seem stuck with what seem ancient, arbitrary decisions such as ageing and icing continuing in peaceful co-existence.  So, there are words where centuries of particular spellings have become entrenched that to suggest a change would be absurd and that means any rule would have both examples which conform and those which defy.  Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) acknowledged the impossibility of constructing a rule of absolute validity but as a guide offered (1) an indicative rule and (2) a guide to the exceptions.  The (1) rule was “when a suffix is added to a word ending in a mute e, the mute e should be dropped before a vowel but not before a consonant”.  The condition for (2) an exception was “the mute e should be kept even before a vowel if it is needed to indicate the soft sound of a preceding g or c or to distinguish a word from another with the same spelling”.  Probe is such an exception because if one has a probe, it’s helpful to know if something (or someone according to those who have been abducted by aliens) is probeable and that adjective can’t be spelled “probable” because that has another meaning.

The Mazda MX-6-based Ford Probe (1988-1997, left) and the car it was once mooted to replace, the long-serving “Fox” Mustang (1978-1993).

A competent, inoffensive coupé, the Ford Probe would probably have existed for a decade as a moderate success and then, having been discontinued without a direct replacement, been soon forgotten, had it not been for the furore which ensued when the idea surfaced it might be the company’s replacement for the Mustang.  In 1987, by means of a “controlled leak” the pro-Mustang faction (the beer drinkers) within the corporation let it be known Ford was planning to replace the Mustang with a modified version of a Mazda (championed by the chardonnay faction).  The reaction was vociferous & voluminous, Ford’s mailbox (and in 1987 mail came in envelopes with stamps attached) soon overflowing with complaints, the idea of a front-wheel-drive (FWD) Mustang anathematic, the absence of a V8 apparently beyond comprehension (although the Mustang II had suffered that fate in 1973-1975).  They also put their money where their poison pens were because the previously moribund sales of Mustangs suddenly spiked, the thought that this might be the last chance to buy a “proper” rear-wheel-drive (RWD), V8 powered Mustang enough to push the thing back up the sales chart.  The flow of letters and cash proved enough to persuade Ford and the platform was reprieved, the Mustang surviving to this day as a unique and highly profitable niche.  The Mazda co-project however was well advanced so the decision was taken to proceed and offer both and, badged as the Ford Probe, the modified Mazda lasted a decade-odd and it’s doubtful it cannibalized much of the Mustang’s market, its competition the other mid-sized, FWD Japanese coupés which had become popular.  A typical Japanese product, well engineered with a high build-quality, the Probe was a success (though it never realised Ford’s hopes in overseas markets) and when production ended, the only reason it wasn’t replaced was because the demographic buying the things had shifted to other segments, notably the sports utility vehicles (SUV) which would soon dominate.

1969 M-505 Adams Brothers Probe 16 (Durango 95)

The still controversial film A Clockwork Orange (1971) was based on the dystopian 1962 novel of the same name by Anthony Burgess (1917–1993).  At the time shocking in its depiction of violence, it's set some time in the future and as part of the verisimilitude the car used in the "driving scene" was a M-505 Adams Brothers Probe 16, one of three built.  Only 34 inches (864 mm) high (the prototype was 5 inches (125 mm) lower!), it emerged from the studios of the designers of the quirky Marcos sports cars which were idiosyncratic even by the standards of the cottage industry of low-volume sports cars which flourished in the UK until the early 1970s.  Although utterly impractical (passengers entered and exited through a sliding glass roof) it certainly looked futuristic but performance was disappointing because of the limited power. To create the mid-engined Probe, the designers used the engine and gearbox from the modest Austin 1800, moving the FWD package amidships, an approach later adopted by a number of manufacturers.  Had it been built using the mechanicals from the contemporary Cadillac Eldorado (which improbably had a 472 cubic inch (7.7 litre) V8 driving the front wheels through a chain-drive transaxle), assuming such a thing could be made to fit, it would have offered performance to match the promise of the looks.  In the film, the Probe was given the name “Durango 95” a name which seems to have chosen for no particular reason although the “95” may have been an allusion to 1995, decades away when the book was written.  Although A Clockwork Orange is perhaps not something with which manufacturers would like their products to be associated, many have since used the Durango name for a variety of purposes.

Newspaper headline writers like the word “probe”.  Within the industry, short, punchy words like “probe”, “jab”, “fix”, “bid” et al are part of a subset of English called “headline language”.

Driving scene in A Clockwork Orange (1971): 1969 M-505 Adams Brothers Probe 16 (Durango 95).

Basketweave

Basketweave (pronounced bah-skit-weev (U) or bas-kit-weev (non-U))

(1) A plain woven pattern with two or more groups of warp and weft threads are interlaced to render a checkerboard appearance resembling that of a woven basket; historically applied especially (in garment & fabric production) to wool & linen items and (in furniture, flooring etc), fibres such as cane, bamboo etc.

(2) Any constructed item assembled in this pattern.

(4) In the natural environment, any structure (animal, vegetable or mineral) in this pattern.

(5) In automotive use, a stylized wheel, constructed usually in an alloy predominately of aluminum and designed loosely in emulation of the older spooked (wire) wheels.   

1920–1925: The construct was basket + weave (and used variously as basketweave, basket-weave & basket weave depending on industry, product, material etc).  Basket was from the thirteenth century Middle English basket (vessel made of thin strips of wood, or other flexible materials, interwoven in a great variety of forms, and used for many purposes), from the Anglo-Norman bascat, of obscure origin.  Bascat has attracted much interest from etymologists but despite generations of research, its source has remained elusive.  One theory is it’s from the Late Latin bascauda (kettle, table-vessel), from the Proto-Brythonic (in Breton baskodenn), from the Proto-Celtic baskis (bundle, load), from the primitive Indo-European bhask- (bundle) and presumably related to the Latin fascis (bundle, faggot, package, load) and a doublet of fasces.  In ancient Rome, the bundle was a material symbol of a Roman magistrate's full civil and military power, known as imperium and it was adopted as the symbol of National Fascist Party in Italy; it’s thus the source of the term “fascism”.  Not all are convinced, the authoritative Oxford English Dictionary (OED) noting there is no evidence of such a word in Celtic unless later words in Irish and Welsh (sometimes counted as borrowings from English) are original.  However, if the theory is accepted, the implication is the original meaning was something like “wicker basket”, wicker one of the oldest known methods of construction.  The word was first used to mean “a goal in the game of basketball” in 1892, the use extended to “a score in basketball” by 1898.  In the 1980s, as operating systems evolved, programmers would have had the choice of “basket” or “bucket” to describe the concept of a “place where files are stored or reference prior to processing” and they choose the latter, thus creating the “download bucket”, “handler bucket” etc.  On what basis the choice was made isn’t known but it may be that baskets, being often woven, are prone to leak while non-porous buckets are not.  Programmers hate leaks.

A classic basketweave pattern.

Weave was from the Middle English weven (to weave), from the Old English wefan (to weave), from the Proto-West Germanic weban, from the Proto-Germanic webaną, from the primitive Indo-European webh (to weave, braid).  The sense of weave as “to wander around; not travel in a straight line” was also in the early fourteenth century absorbed by the Middle English weven and was probably from the Old Norse veifa (move around, wave), related to the Latin vibrare, from vibrō (to vibrate, to rattle, to twang; to deliver or deal (a blow)), from the  Proto-Italic wibrāō, denominative of wibros, from the primitive Indo-European weyp- (to oscillate, swing) or weyb-.  The root-final consonant has never been clear and reflexes of both are found across Indo-European languages.  The verb sense of “something woven” dates from the 1580s while the meaning “method or pattern of weaving” was from 1888.  The notion of “to move from one place to another” has been traced to the twelfth century and was presumably derived from the movements involved in the act of weaving and while it’s uncertain quite how the meaning evolved, it’s documented from early fourteenth century as conveying “move to and fro” and in the 1590s as “move side to side”,  In pugilism it would have been a natural technique from the moment the first punch was thrown but formally it entered the language of boxing (as “duck & weave”) in 1918, often as weaved or weaving.  By analogy, the phrase “duck & weave” came to be used of politicians attempting to avoid answering questions.  In the military, weave was also used to describe evasive maneuvers undertaken on land or in the air but not at sea, the Admiralty preferring zig-zag, as the pattern would appear on charts.  The fencing method known as teenage is a kind of basketweave.  Basketweave is a noun & adjective and (in irregular use) a verb and basketweaver is a noun; the noun plural is basketweaves.

Attentive basketweavers: Students in a lecture  (B.A. (Peace Studies)) at Whitworth University, Spokane, Washington, USA.

A basketweaver is of course “one who weaves baskets” but in idiomatic use, basketweaver is used also to mean “one whose skills have been rendered redundant by automation or other changes in technology”.  The term “underwater basketweaving” is used of university course thought useless (in the sense of not being directly applicable to anything vocational) and is applied especially to the “studies” genre (gender studies, peace studies, women’s studies et al).  Beyond education, it can be used of anything thought “lame, pointless, useless, worthless, a waste of time etc”.  Basketweaving is also a descriptor of a long and interlinked narrative of lies, distinguished from an ad-hoc lie in that in a basketweave of lies, there are dependencies between the untruths and, done with sufficient care, each can act to reinforce another, enabling an entire persona to be constructed.  It’s the most elaborate version of a “basket of lies” and can work but, like a woven basket, if one strand becomes lose and separates from the structure, under stress, the entire basket can unravel, spilling asunder the contents.

Official portrait of Representative the honorable George Santos.

A classic basketweaver is George Anthony Devolder Santos (b 1988) who, in the 2022 mid-term elections for the US Congress, was elected as a representative (Republican) for New York's 3rd congressional district.  Although he seems to have passed untroubled through the Republican Party’s candidate vetting process, after his election a number of media outlets investigated and found his public persona was almost wholly untrue and contained many dubious or blatantly false claims about, inter-alia, his mother, personal biography, education, criminal record, work history, financial status, ancestry, ethnicity, sexual orientation & religion.  When confronted, Mr Santos did admit to lying about certain matters, was vague about some and ducked and weaved to avoid discussing others, especially the fraud charges in Brazil he avoided by fleeing the country.  Although a life-long Roman Catholic, Mr Santos on a number of occasions claimed to be Jewish, even fabricating stories about his family suffering losses during the Holocaust.  Later, after the lies were exposed, he told a newspaper “I never claimed to be Jewish.  I am Catholic. Because I learned my maternal family had a Jewish background I said I was ‘Jew-ish.”  In the right circumstances, delivered on-stage by a Jewish comedian, it might have been a good punch-line.

Few are laughing however and Mr Santos is under investigation by both Brazilian and US authorities.  However, despite many calls (from Republicans and Democrats alike) that he resign from Congress, Mr Santos has refused and the Republican house leadership, working with an unexpectedly paper-thin majority, has shown no enthusiasm to pursue the matter.  What Mr Santos has done is expose the limitations of the basketweaving technique.  While a carefully built construct can work, it relies on no loose threads being exposed and while this can be manageable for those not public figures, for anyone exposed to investigation, in the twenty-first century such deceptions are probably close to impossible to achieve and Mr Santos was probably lured into excessive self-confidence because, in relative anonymity, he had for years managed to deceive, fooling many including the Republican Party and perhaps even himself.  In retrospect, he might one day ponder how he ever thought he’s get away with it.  One thing that remains unclear is how he should be addressed.  Members of the House of Representatives typically are addressed as "the honorable" in formal use but this is merely a courtesy title and is not a requirement.  The use is left to individual members and as far as is known, Mr Santos has not yet indicated whether he wishes people to address him as “the honorable George Santos”.

Borrani wire wheels on 1972 Ferrari 365 GTB/4 (Daytona) coupé (far left), “Hotwire” wheels on 1974 Holden Torana SL/R 5000 (centre left), “Basketweave” wheels on 1990 Jaguar XJS coupé (centre right) & 1986 Holden Piazza (far right).

Basketweave wheels remain popular (although some feelings may be strained when it comes time to clean the things) but the use of “basketweave” to describe the construction was a bit of a stretch and some prefer “lattice” which seems architecturally closer.  Were the motif of the classic basketweave to be applied to a wheel it would look something those used on the Holden Piazza, briefly (1986-1989) available on the Australian market.  Because it’s not easy successfully to integrate something inherently square or rectangular into a small, circular object, such designs never caught on although variations were tried.  The “basketweave” wheels which did endure owed little to the classic basketweave patters although there are identifiable hints in the construction so people understand the connection and rather than thought of as a continuation of the design elements drawn from the traditions of weaving, the wheels really established a fork of the meaning.  As a design, they were an evolution of the “hotwire” style popular in the 1970s when was a deliberate attempt to echo the style of the classic spoked (wire) wheels which, being lighter and offering better brake cooling properties than steel disk wheels, were for decades the wheel of choice for high performance vehicles.  That changed in the 1960s as speeds & vehicle weight rose and tyres became wider and stickier, a combination of factors which meant wire wheels were no longer strong enough to endure the rising stresses.  Additionally, the wire wheel was labor intensive to make in an era when that beginning to matter, wheels cast from an alloy predominately of aluminum were cheaper to produce as well as stronger.

Lindsay Lohan in Miami, clothes by Amiparism, Interview Magazine, December 2022.  The car is a Jaguar XJS convertible with the factory-fitted basketweave (or lattice) wheels.

1988 Porsche 911 (930) Turbo Cabriolet (left) and Hans Stuck (1900–1978) in Auto Union Type C (6.0 litre V16), Shelsley Walsh hill climb, Worcestershire, England, June 1936 (right).

The Porsche is fitted with three-piece, 15 inch BBS RS basketweave wheels with satin lips: The rear units are 11 inches in width (running 345/35 tyres) while at the front the wheels are 9 inches wide (mounted with 225/50 tyres).  Although advances in electronics since 1988 have made the behaviour of the most powerful rear-engined Porsches easier to tame, in 1988, the best way to ameliorate the inherent idiosyncrasies of the configuration was to fit wider wheels, increasing the rubber’s contact area with the road.  The idea was not new, both the straight-eight Mercedes-Benz W125 and the V16 Type C Auto-Union Grand Prix cars of 1937 using twin rear tyres when run in hill climbs.  The Porsche 930 (1975-1989) quickly gained the nickname “widow maker” but the Auto Union, which combined 520 horsepower and a notable rearward weight bias with tyres narrower than are these days used on delivery vans, deserved the moniker more.  Fitting the second set of rear wheels did help but the handling characteristics could never be made wholly benign and it wasn’t until the late 1950s that mid-engined Grand Prix cars became manageable and notably, they had about half the power of the German machines of the 1930s.

Damocles

Damocles (pronounced dam-uh-kleez)

As Sword of Damocles, any situation threatening imminent harm or disaster.

Circa 300 BC: From the Ancient Greek name Δαμοκλῆς (Damoklês).  The most commonly used derived form is the adjectival Damoclean.  There is a school of thought no initial capital is demanded except when referring to Damocles himself.

In mythology

In Classical mythology, Damocles was a sycophantic courtier at the court of King Dionysius II of Syracuse.  Damocles was heard to say Dionysius must be very happy  living the life of a king and on hearing of this, the ruler offered to let him live like that for a day.  Delighted, Damocles accepted and was placed on a throne, attended by servants serving him the finest wines at a most lavish banquet.  Hours into the feast, Damocles chanced to look up and saw, just above his head, a razor-sharp dangling sword, suspended by a single strand from the tail of a horse.  Shocked at the risk to his life, Damocles asked the king why the blade was there.  Dionysius explained it was so Damocles might fully experience the life of a king, including the constant sense of danger powerful people must endure.  Damocles asked to be excused from the feast and be allowed to return to his humble station; the king granting his request.  The original meaning from Antiquity, the sword symbolizing the constant threats powerful people face, has changed over time, now referring to any looming threat, not just those afflicting the rich and powerful.

Long thought apocryphal, legend has it the story was in a lost history of of Sicily by Timaeus of Tauromenium (circa 356–260 BC) and it’s speculated Cicero may have read it in the works of the (1^st century BC) Greek historian Diodorus Siculus for he included it in his Tusculanae Disputationes (Tusculan Thoughts (45 BC)), a five-part treatise of Greek philosophy discussing: the contempt of death; pain; grief; emotional disturbances; and whether virtue alone is sufficient for a happy life).  It was from here the phrase entered classical languages, the Roman lyric poet Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus, 65-8 BC) exploring the theme in the Third Book of Odes (23 BC), noting none could be happy "above whose impious head hangs a drawn sword (destrictus ensis)."  It became part of modern European languages after the myths of antiquity were widely published after the Renaissance.  William Shakespeare (1564–1616) explored the theme in Henry IV, Part 1 (circa 1596), Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) used the phrase in The Canterbury Tales (1386-1400) and sixteenth & seventeenth century works sometimes explained the story using the words metus est plenus tyrannis (a tyrant is always fearful).  During the Cold War, both John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) and comrade Khrushchev (1894–1971; Soviet leader 1953-1964) described nuclear weapons as Damoclean although JFK was lamenting the threat they posed to humanity whereas comrade Khrushchev was more bullish, telling the West the USSR’s newly tested fifty-plus megaton hydrogen bomb would "hang like the sword of Damocles over the imperialists' heads".

Comrade Khrushchev's Damoclean sword: A depiction of 30 October 1961 test of Soviet AN-602 hydrogen bomb (Царь-бомба (Tsar Bomba, known also by the Soviet code names Ivan or Vanya (the Pentagon preferred Tsar Bomb)).  The most powerful nuclear weapon ever detonated, the design was technically capable of being able to be produced in a form which would have yielded some 100 megatons but the Soviets built it in smaller form (1) to reduce fall-out and (2) the bomber would have time to escape from the critical blast zone.  For a long time the US estimated the yield at 54 megatons and the Russians at 58 but after the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, it was confirmed the true yield was 50-51 megatons.

Surreal

Surreal (pronounced suh-ree-uhl (U) or sur-reel (non-U))

(1) Of, relating to, or characteristic of surrealism, an artistic and literary style; surrealistic.

(2) Having the disorienting, hallucinatory quality of a dream; unreal; fantastic & and incongruous.

(3) As surrealism, an artistic movement and an aesthetic philosophy that, inter alia, explored the “liberation of the mind” by emphasizing the critical and imaginative powers of the subconscious.

(4) In mathematics as surreal numbers, a collection of numbers which includes both the real numbers and the infinite ordinal numbers, each real number surrounded by surreals, which are closer to it than any real number.

1936: A back formation from surrealism, the construct being ; sur- +‎ realism, from the French surréalisme, the construct being sur- (beyond) +‎ réalisme (realism).  Sur- ((over in the sense of “on top of” & over- in the sense of “excessive; excessively; too much”)) was from the Old French sur-, sour-, sor- & soure-, from a syncopation of the Latin super- (above, on top, over; upwards; moreover, in addition, besides) from the Proto-Italic super, from the primitive Indo-European upér (over, above (and cognate with the Ancient Greek ὑπέρ (hupér) (above) and the Proto-Germanic uber (which in English became “over”)).  The English sur- was from the Middle English sur-, from the Old French sur-, sour-, sor- & soure-, a syncopic form of the Latin super.  Sur is a doublet of super-, over- and hyper-.  Real was from the Middle English real, from the Old French reel, from the Late Latin reālis (actual), from the Latin rēs (matter, thing), from the primitive Indo-European rehís (wealth, goods).  Surreal is a noun & adjective, surreally is an adverb, surrealism & surreality are nouns and surrealistic is an adjective; the noun plural is surreals.

Lobster Telephone (1936) by Salvador Dali, one of a dozen-odd originals (in colors and shades of cream created by the artist).

In French, the noun surréalisme appeared first in the preface to Guillaume Apollinaire's (1880-1918) play Les Mamelles de Tirésias (1916-1917 and first performed in 1917).  The word was taken up in the 1920s by French intellectuals who created a number of (competing) Manifeste de Surréalisme (Surrealist manifesto) which were documents exploring the nature of human psychology and the way the radical imagination could produce transformative art.  Such was the nature of their texts, inspiration was offered to groups as diverse as landscape painters and anarchists and anyone else attracted to the idea (if not the business) of revolution.  The English form of the word appeared first in 1931, the French spelling having been in use since 1927.  Surrealist as an adjective and noun (from the 1917 French surréaliste) has been in use since 1925 while the adjective surrealistic dates from 1930.

La Trahison des Images (The Treachery of Images) (1929), oil on canvas, by Rene Magritte (1898-1967), Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

The French text Ceci n’est pas une pipe (This is not a pipe) is an act of deconstruction, a statement that a painting is a representation of something, not the object itself.  It’s a statement of the obvious but is both in the artistic tradition of opposition to oppressive rationalism and an influential strand in the history of Surrealism and Pop Art.

Mama, papa is wounded! (1927) by Yves Tanguy (1900-1955), oil on canvas, Museum of Modern Art, New York.

One of the motifs of surrealist painters was a deliberate disconnection between the title of a work and any immediately obvious meaning. Tanguy’s Mama, papa is wounded! was a painting in one of the recognized surrealist styles: a landscape of wide vista littered with abstract shapes, the title taken from a case-study in a psychiatry textbook.  Beyond mentioning he’d imagined the whole canvas before lifting a brush, Tangay gave no clue about the meaning, but coming so soon after Great War, many focused on a link with the many French causalities of the conflict, the depiction of their horrific injuries also part of an artistic movement in the post-war years.

Swans Reflecting Elephants (1937), oil on canvas by Salvador Dali (1904-1989)

Salvador Dali remains the best-known surrealist painter and Swans Reflecting Elephants is an example of his paranoiac-critical method, which attempted to use art to represent how subconscious thought might summon the irrational imagery when in a state of psychosis or paranoia.  The work is interesting too in that it’s the most perfect example of a double image, the trees and swans reflected in the mirror-like surface of the water as lake as elephants.  Dali himself would sometimes discuss the usefulness of the mirror as a device to explore the divergence between conscious reality and the world of the subconscious.

Jean-Martin Charcot, documentary photographs of hysteria patients at La Salpêtrière Asylum 1878, printed in Le Cinquantenaire de L’hystérie (La Révolution Surréaliste (1928)) by André Breton (1896–1966) & Louis Aragon (1897–1982).  Breton & Aragon lamented that hysteria (which they called "the greatest poetic discovery of the late nineteenth century") was being redefined by the new discipline of psychiatry as merely a symptom of mental illness which could be eliminated by suggestion alone.

The link between surrealist art and madness long intrigued the medical community and the interest later extended to the relationship with modernism in general.  Remarkably, it wasn’t until 1980 with the publication of the third edition (DSM-III) that the diagnosis “hysteria” was removed from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.  Hysteria had for centuries been a kind of omnibus diagnosis, applied to those (almost always women) displaying an extraordinary array of mental and physical symptoms, the gendered hysteria derived from the Ancient Greek word for uterus.  To many Surrealists, hysteria was the state in which a poetic expression of the mind’s wilder impulses could be unleashed, meaning that instead of being silenced, this fundamental condition of being female could usefully be objectified.  History and art met in the decade of the surrealists because the 1930s was a time to be hysterical, less about what was happening than the fear of what was to come but the reaction to the Exposition Internationale du Surréalisme, an exhibition by surrealist artists held in Paris in January-February 1938 was not despair or shock but indifference, the novelty of the form having passed, the claim the exhibition needed to be understood as a single installation convincing few.  In the history of the movement, the peak had actually passed and although surrealist works would continue to be produced (and actually mass-produced as wildly popular prints) in the post-war world, the output was repetitive.  The avant-garde having plundered from surrealism what could be carried off, explored other directions.

Woman’s Dinner Dress (February 1937) by Elsa Schiaparelli (1890-1973), printed silk organza and synthetic horsehair, Philadelphia Museum of Art.

The fragments however endure.  Elsa Schiaparelli was an Italian fashion designer who took the objects made famous by the Futurists, Dadaists, & Surrealists and integrated them into clothing, her most memorable piece a white evening gown adorned with a large Daliesque lobster.  A design which would now attract little attention, at the time it was a sensation, its audacity a contrast with the solid pastels and other subdued hues with which Coco Chanel (1883-1971) had defined Parisian sophistication.  The playful designs she adopted (a telephone-shaped handbag, buttons in the shape of lollipops, fingernail gloves and hats in shapes borrowed from industry and agriculture) were not always original but she lent them a respectability in the world of high-fashion. 

In the surreal style: Salvador Dali (2021) by Javier Peña and Lindsay Lohan by Mohamad Helmi on Displate.