Oxydol - Cranked for clean.

It's been a while since we've heard from Picture Post magazine. Maybe you're all "WTF is Picture Post?", in which case you maybe should be all "Why don't I type that into Google and find out for my own lazy damn self?". Today, we bring you an Oxydol ad from 1951 from a woman who's really REALLY excited about her wash.

This lady has those giant, overstimulated eyes where the eyelid doesn't tough the iris. There's a few millimeters of daylight between the edge of the eyelid and the tip of the iris. That's code for "super super duper happy", but also for "super duper criminally insane" and for "It's delicious if you snort it!".

To be fair, the Oxydol lady's eyes stop short of Michele Bachmann levels of crazy. She's on a whole other level. Bachman's eyeballs are code for "The Bible says the Earth is only six thousand years old, which means I get to hide under your bed and stab you in the butt while you're sleeping while chanting nursery rhymes at you, tee hee hee." She's terrifying because she's real.

Aaaaanyway, how bout a graphic gift? This wash day wastrel and her urchin can both add a little unnecessary enthusiasm to an email or a note left on the fridge, so why not right click them into your P.A.G. archive folder?

You could write just about anything on that tablecloth she's holding, like "Don't look for me. You can wash out your own skid marks from now on, pig." or "Start cleaning up after yourself or get out."

And what about the boy with all that self esteem? Just imagine him on your fridge with the caption "Guess who shit the bed last night?" That's just a serving suggestion, but having this adorable ragamuffin on your hard drive means you'll be ready if such an occasion comes up. Don't be caught unprepared. You're welcome!

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1957 Cadillac - Taste and judgment.

Taste and judgment news now, from 1957. According to Cadillac's marketing department, an eighteen-foot long car with superfluous whale tails was the ultimate statement of taste, judgment, and "practical wisdom."

Yep. The most sensible car you could drive in '57 was this Cadillac, which said all sorts of things about you, "for Cadillac owners traditionally represent the higher phases in every field of human endeavor". If you have a Cadillac, you magically become the best at everything. Wow.

But look at the Beverly Hills Hotel today. It looks pretty much the same. That's kinda cool.

And yes, the Beverly Hills Hotel is still owned by the Sultan of Brunei, whose kingdom exists under Sharia law, which is not famous for being a shining indication of human rights. However, the pink Cadillac is probably just his style.

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Hall of Heads, Pt. 6 - FIGHT!!!!!

Good morning Mr. and Mrs America, and all the ships at sea. Today we are broadcasting to you live, from ringside in the Hall of Heads in 1927. Today we bring you wonderful, hideous bloodsport in The Hall of heads, part six. It's been over a year and a half since the Hall of Heads has seen any action, so it's high time we had some Disembodied Floating Heads putting up their dukes and battling for the title of Creepiest Disembodied Floating Head. Who will take the belt? Get ready for some bloody heads!

Our first hopeful hails from this tiny ad for Carlton Mills, a shirt manufacturer from New York. That's in the U.S. of A., for our out-of-towners in the audience. Fred Frankel Ills looks a little soft, but shirt selling is good honest work, and this kid's got a good honest face... maybe of palooka or possibly goombah variety. Let's see if Fred is licenced to Ill. Ding!

No neck. That's good. Nobody ever won a DFH title with a dangling neck. This fresh-faced Frankel's off to a good start. How's the face? Mmmm, he's not real creepy, there. He sort of looks like he's just arrived late to football practice. Still, I like his moxy. He came out swinging and he's ready to fight. Good effort, kid!

Next challenger is... what's this? Just a silhouette? Rosenberg the Silhouette, from a Wanted-Cartoonists! ad is a dark hose for sure. He's definitely going for the mysterious angle here, with his total lack of a face or any detail at all. This "Rosenberg" fella came out of left field, so I like the way he thinks. Let's see if he can think on his nonexistent feet! Ding!

Let's check out Rosenberg's uncertainty principle. Hmm. Rosenberg's spooky all right, but we can still tell he's wearing glasses, which isn't very creepy at all. Also, he's got a bow tie tied around his.... neck?!?! You call yourself disembodied, Rosenberg? Why, you're barely even severed! And you know what? You're not even a good cartoon, which is your whole job! You're outta here! Rosenberg goes down! PRAKOW!!!

 This enigmatic young drawing comes to us from one of the many many MANY vocational ads to be found in the back pages of Popular Science. This meek former bank clerk calls himself W.A. Roben, and his ad features a surprising use of Vagabond, a font usually associated with The Sixties. Go see for yourself, but be careful when exploring the free font sites. they'll slip your PC a mickey just as soon as look at you.

Anyway, "Waah" Roben's another drawing. And you know what? he makes a better cartoon than that loser Rosenberg from the cartooning ad. What else has Waah got going for him? let's find out! Ding!

Well, Roben, not only have you got a complete neck, but you've still got part of your shoulders hanging on there. When you were in your high-falootin' National Electrical School, did they perchance teach you the meaning of DISEMBODIED??? You LOSE! Cry me a river, Waah! You're outta here! Roban just grounded himself! FALUMP! It's still Fred Frankel for the title!

Wowzers! Get a load of the serial killer vibe coming off of Lewis Beck, our next contender from this ad for Dobe Easy Drafting! This guy leaves a puddle of creepy wherever he stands! Let's see what Bleck has got in his drafting kit of mayhem, shall we? This should be good. Ding!

Bleck comes out swinging with his total lack of neck. That's just basic form, but Bleck has clearly done his homework. I like his chances. Next, he's wearing glasses for that nerdy look, but the empty, dead eyes mean those glasses are just lenses that focus Bleck's dead stare into a beam of solid creepy that - oh my gosh - knocks soft-hearted Frankel on his soft-hearted backside. Frankel goes down under the arcane power of Lewis Beck. Well done, Bleck!

Is someone hungry for adventure... Popularity... Big pay? This red-blooded he-man seems to think he is. And he knows the word "plaudits". This confident adventure-craver says his blood is red, but let's see if he can prove it be leaking a bunch of it out as he takes on Lewis Beck! Ding, baby!

BAH HAHAHAHAHhahahahah! Did your doctor make you wear that headgear, or are you one of the growing number of "real life superheroes"?  Maybe you're hoping for the same level of scare that Satan had in Time Bandits, but his skull cap was decorated with skeletal hands, and yours just kind of looks like your mom doesn't want you to hurt yourself. And, are you... smiling? I'm not a-scared of you, geek. And is that leather hat supposed to save your life if you crash your plane? Go home and think about what it means to be a Disembodied Floating Head. You're not my hero! Bleck sends Pilot Pete down in flames! KRADOOOOSH!

Lewis "Mr. Bleck" Soy un ganador, baby, so just try to kill him. The only thing that scarred him in all of today's fighting was my sloppy use of the magic wand tool when I made his selection. But chicks dig scars, Bleck. Enjoy your belt.

Ladies and gentlemen, please clean up around your seats as you go out. Mrs. Flinby doesn't work weekends. Thank you for attending another savage edition of The Hall of Heads. TMBG, please play our closing theme as our patrons file out.


New aids for living, from Science.

New Apparatus captures awkward grunts of unwilling lower-back massage patients
for later enjoyment.

Dog carrier for outside of car, pending legal approval from Horrified Dog Lover organizations.

New door with bulbed projection partially obscures pubis. Could be improved
upon by completely obscuring pubis.


Little ads - Careers for Cheap!

Dive for extra dollars with surplus old-timey equipment from Popeye cartoons.

Models will not have sex with you unless you're a "bean artist".

Learn to hypnotize anyone into sending you money for hypnotism course. Your eyes are getting gullible. Veeeeery gullible.


The Test Chamber

Joke #1 - "Okay, Don. The air scrubbers are spinning at 85% efficiency. Choose a Chalupa at random from the containment vessel and start eating."

Joke #2 - "Welcome to the Fairchild test Center, gentlemen. I hope you're ready to be Fairchilded!"

Joke #3 - "Okay, Don, we're about to power up the cyclotron. Try to, uuh, duck if you see any subatomic particles flying out and let us know if you feel irradiated or whatever and we'll take a break."

Joke #4 - The Swiss budget for fondue research is unmatched in all the world.

Joke #5 - "I'm sorry, Don, I can't hear a word you're shrieking about. I can't hear you over all the alarm claxons. Can it wait till lunch?"

Jim D. wrote joke #6 for us, about some kind of movie I never heard of. Thanks, Jim! - We always wondered what Luke meant when he said "that little droid and I have been through a lot together."

Webe Gumbar broke a very long joking fast when he sent in joke #7. Where you been, Webe? - You see Charlie the Oompa Loompas have an uncanny ability to draw invasive Pythons out of the Everglades and into the Slurm-a-tron and that's how the elephant got his trunk. Rochester!?

Frequent flier Mr. HotBlackDesiatoPants_2 transmitted joke #8 through the Sub-Etha, just to keep his idiom consistent. Thanks, MHBDP_2! - Joke # 6- Inside the "Heart of Gold" scientists began hooking the logic circuits of a Bambleweeny 57 Sub-Meson Brain to the atomic vector plotter which was suspended in a strong Brownian Motion producer. Almost immediately, a pair of guided nuclear missiles turned into a sperm whale and a bowl of petunias....
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Western Electric - Go ask White Alice.

Ever wonder what makes your cell phone work? Ever wonder how telephones ever worked at all, ever? Nope? Well, you're normal. If you're the curious type, observe this 1957 Western Electric ad that basically explains how telecommunications worked in the pre-satellite era.

This ad is from May, 1957. The first satellite, Sputnik, wasn't launched (by the Russians) until October of that year. Also, it would be a while after that before that new crazy sci-fi technology would be commercialzed for use by everyday numbskulls like us.

No, back in '57, there weren't satellites yet. So, if you were in Anchorage, Alaska, and you wanted to call your mom in Indiana or whatever, you would have had to take a drive to downtown Anchorage to make the call on The Telephone.

Enter, the White Alice project. It was a way to communicate over long distances by bouncing  radio signals off the troposphere. "WTF the troposphere?", you say? It's the lowest and thickest part of the atmosphere, consisting mostly of water vapor. Western Electric was commissioned by the Air Force to build huge antennas like the one in this ad. It may occur to you that it looks a little like the dish antennas on people's roofs, and that's because it's basically the same thing. See the tower in front of the dish? That's the bit that sends and receives the signal. The huge bowl thing is basically a reflector that focuses the signal into a rough beam shape as it reflects it, making it stronger and more directional.

"Why did the Air Force want these antennas so hard?" you say? Because this was 1957 and  it was the Cold War. With the feeble communications available in Alaska before White Alice, it seemed like a pretty good back door for The Russians come sneak in and invade the heck out of us, with maybe hours before anyone in Alaska could notice and warn the rest of the U.S. Long story short, you could get just about anything funded if you said "The Russians" in a spooky voice and wiggle your fingers around a little bit.

But now, we have privatized satellites making these huge antennas obsolete. The White Alice antennas began to fall out of use in the Seventies, and the last unit was decommissioned in 1985. Here's Louis C.K. explaining how spoiled and impatient we are with our ubiquitous pocket-sized satellite wondertechnology.

Here's a film from 1960 explaining what a geeky erection we had for the dawn of satellite communication. It sounded like sci-fi at the time, but now we have the nerve to be irritated when it doesn't send the minutiae of our daily lives around the globe, to no one in particular, at the exact moment we want it to. I look forward to being spoiled about 3D printing and wireless battery chargers.

As Robert, one of Evil's henchmen said in Terry Gilliam's Time Bandits, "I can't wait for the new techno-lo-nological dawn!"

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