Ford Rotunda - The five bridges sweeeet.

Time is short today, due to required attendance at the P.A.G. Mid-Early Spring Tetherball Tournament (MESTT), over in GO! Plaza. SO, here's a quick postcard that's to cool to make fun of. The Ford Rotunda at the '64 World's Fair.

I don't know how many of those pretzel-shaped bridges there are hanging off this building, but it looks like two, which is close enough to five to allow me to use the name of the 1970 album by The Nice for the title of this post.

Yes, the building is super beautiful, but look what's in those Habitrail (tm) bridge things. Cars are in there! The crop at the end of the post will be a closeup view of the bridges. Man, I wish I could find some kind of DVD film of the 64 fair. Maybe I'll check Amazon...

Once again, any mention of the '64 World's Fair reminds me of the They Might Be Giants song Ana Ng. "All alone at the '64 World's Fair. Eighty dolls yelling 'small girl after all'. Who was at the DuPont pavilion? Why was the bench still warm? Who had been there?" Me and my friend used to do that song in the coffee house back in college.


Zenith UHF Television - Let the cartoons begin.

So maybe your parents are complaining about "that new television thing that means my old TV won't work any more". Maybe they're behaving as if nothing like this has ever happened before. Well, if they're old enough, they should be able to remember going through the horrors of technological advancement before. If they're REALLY old enough, they may have trouble remembering things in general. P.A.G. has reported in the past about the early days of color television and how people were worried their TVs would explode or cease to exist or whatever. That also happened in 1949 when UHF broadcast frequencies promised to bring a new world of reruns and cartoons into your home (eventually). Thankfully, Zenith was ready.
I guess the tuner in the TV had to be designed to accept frequencies above the previous ceiling of (I think ) 300 MHz. The Wikipedia article gets super geeky and I don't have a degree in that kind of geekery, so a quick skim of the information will have to do. Also, I have to give a squash lesson in thirty minutes.

The benefit of broadening the frequency spectrum of television broadcasts opened up room for more channels, which people probably wanted. It wouldn't be necessity keep old TVs from working, but in order to get the new UHF channels on your old VHF, you'd have to buy a converter. Sound familiar?

Zenith sounds pretty cranked about their "Giant Circle Screen", which seems horrible at first, but when I think about it, a circle may be more like the natural field of human vision. I mean, my eyeballs' view of the world sure isn't a 16:9 rectangle. but that's what I'm used to. Considering the shape of each eye's field of view, and the overlap in the middle for stereoscopic vision, it's probably more like a squashed oval. So, this goofy circle makes as much sense as anything, I suppose, even though it's clearly a stupid idea. It's all a matter of the resolution and whether the Giant Circle is a cropped version of a rectangle or vice versa.

All of this stuff is tricky for my giant future-brain to understand. Pity the poor troglodytes of 1949 trying to grasp the reason their old TV won't get the new channels.

What I recall of my kidhood was that, for some reason the shitty black and white TV in the kitchen got the UHF channels better than channels 2 and 5. This was fine with me, because UHF was home to channels 32 and 44. Ch. 32 later became Field Communications and even later, FOX. Channel 44 went "en espanol" some time in the early eighties I think. But before that happened, Channel 32 was where you could go to catch Popeye, Woody Woodpecker and Tom & Jerry on Super Cartoon Sunrise, and the various horrible Hanna Barbera shows in the afternoon. UHF was where I saw my first Anime, in the form of Speed Racer (original name: Mach Go Go Go), Battle of the Planets (original name: Science Ninja Team Gatchaman), Space Giants (original name: Ambassador Magma)  and Ultraman (original name: Urutoraman). Also, channel 44 ran the reliably freaky Spider-Man cartoon, as animated by the reliably stoned Ralph Bakshi.

Now these shows are available in various easily accessed forms like DVD and YouTube, which is better I guess. I'd like to buy a DVD of these shows with atmospheric interference and static in the picture. Better still, I can just get the DVDs and watch them through a horrible old TV. Hmm. Food for thought.


Keio Plaza Inter-Continental Hotel - Enjoy your stay, Mr. Bond / Lee

Because I'm an ignorant American who only knows the world through the lens of the entertainment industry, when I look at this postcard, it look like either a scene from a Bond movie or a Bruce Lee movie. And because I like Bruce Lee movies and Bond movies, I'm okay with that.

The Keio Plaza Inter-Continental Hotel. How many yowling kung-fu battles must have taken place in that lobby? How many creative deaths occurred in the hotel spa at the hands of a cheeky MI-6 agent? I know: none. But those things should have happened, and they would have been great.

Aah, but there does seem to be some skullduggery afoot. Look at the couple in the forground. It seems that a young Debra Jo Rupp and her half-Japanese companion are sneaking out of the hotel with a set of curtains cleverly made into a suit. Also, they've stolen a typewriter. You're fooling no one, Rupp party of two.

In the distance, we see a young toreador on his first trip to the west, hoping to fight those big American bulls he's heard about back in his home town of Salamanca. Too bad he wound up in Tokyo.

So is the Keio Plaza Inter-Continental Hotel still there? Sure thing! At least, their website seems convinced the hotel exists. It looks like they've redone the lobby in the last forty years, though. I wonder if they want their post card back. They can ask really nicely if it's that important to them.

Just for good measure, here's the location in Google maps, in case you're hoping to pop down there for lunch today.

View Larger Map


Arrow Underwear - Riding high.

I suppose it's unfair to pick on the past for being a bunch of squares. Squareness is practically synonymous with anachronism. That being said, it's time to pick on the past for being a bunch of squares. Snort! Nice underpants, 1954! Stupid past, you stupid square!
This ad is obviously designed to grab attention because of the kooky picture of the man skiing in his underwear. Pretty racy stuff for the Leave it to Beaver era. (Actually, it looks like the guy is standing flat on the floor with the camera tilted to look like he's going down hill, but who cares?) The expression on his face tells us the picture is supposed to be funny. Sure, fine.

I knew the fifties were pretty square, but wow. When I first looked at these elaborate and "thorough" designs, I was reminded of the "special underwear" the Mormons have to wear.
What's that? you don't know about the Mormons' special underwear? Well, in order for the Mormons to remind themselves that Joseph Smith found inscribed golden plates that nobody else was ever allowed to see (because he hid them in a hat), and that only he could translate into a Bible that said he could have as many wives as he wanted, they have to wear special underwear that looks like this:
Yep. Mormons really know how to party.

The Mormon male underwear is the only undergarment in history to combine the conservatism of the long john with the decadence of the "banana hammock". Yet, the design still manages to convey a definite message of "You can't touch this."

So, now that I actually look at the Magic Mormon Underwear, the shorts in the Arrow ad look positively naughty. See? If you want to make 1954 look positively swingin', you just have to find the right comparison. It's all in how you sell it. To fight for the title of Knerdiest Knickers, Arrow could just change up the product descriptions, like so:
You're welcome, 1954.


Better Homes - Cake floss.

Joke #1 - In this month's Better Homes: make use of home improvement waste material and save money when you make our spring "Carpet Cake".

Joke #2 - Also in this month's must-have issue: Better Homes asks the tough questions. Is it still vegetarian if your cake is made from Muppets?

Joke #3 - Better homes shows you how: Welcome spring with our fun-to-wear, fun-to-eat Easter cakehat!

Joke #4 is from Sue. Thanks, Sue! Betty and Sally just didn't get the concept of what a cheesecake really was. But, as they would learn thru their lives - blond hair, flowers and a big grin would be their best defense against criticism.


Kooking Kornir - Breakfast bounty!

Today, Kooking Kornir will tackle the hardest meal of the morning: Breakfast! If you're like me, you can't send your family out the door with just a turkey leg to eat. You want to provide the best for your loved ones, and that's why you need to present a balanced, heavy feast, featuring all eight food groups to start out the day right! Wake up mister sun! We mean breakfast business!

First, whet their appetites with a cup of chocolate frosting (upper right). To balance the flavor, add a dollop of butter cream frosting as a garnish and you've already covered the dairy group!

Next, have you ever noticed that butter can be shapes? That's right! To make our patented butter balls, you'll need some butter and a butter baller. Use the baller to ball your butter and you're done! Mmm-mm dairy-licious! See? That's the other dairy group covered!

Jelly is best when spooned, so spoon some into your scalloped serving dish and watch their eyes light up! For a flavor-tastic idea, roll the butter balls in the jelly pool for a fruity delight! Your kids will love the "Mekong Delta", as we like to call this morning treat. Fruit group, you've been eaten!

Sure, croissants are good, but wrap them around cocktail sausages and you've got "The Bay of Pigs in a " twenty-one bun salute! Your hunger will surrender! Meat and grains group: invaded!

After all that meat, lighten the mood with crocks of oatmeal. The kids can take their time getting to that rich, nourishing oatmeal because you've added a cap of aerosol foam insulation. No need to rush through the glutinous group!

Help your family power through their morning with a belly full of a platter of chicken breast meat. Mr Rooster seems angry! Don't worry, Roostie! It's no one you know! Meat group: met!

Strawberries can be displayed for a little color, or deep fried for nutrition. These have yet to go into the drink, but it only takes a few seconds to fry up some delicious strawberry poppers. They fit in a pocket for easy snacking on the bus. Vegetables group: swallowed!


1962 Plymouth Valiant Wagon - Ugly Pretty

This car should register as hideously ugly, but it doesn't. The 1961 Plymouth Valiant (or it could be a '62 - the tend to advertise model years a little early) was marketed as a dependable and practical family car - not a beauty. Somehow, it didn't come out looking all that wonky.

I mean, its no Studebaker Avanti, but for a family wagon, you could do much worse. Since this was 1962, car designers were all excited with putting jet airplane-like things all over the car.
See? The vent things on the rear fenders look like air intakes and the wheel covers look like turbines. That was all the rage at the time. On something as clunky as a wagon, its wonderfully hilarious. That may be what makes it work for me.

By comparison, consider my old un-favorite the Pontiac Aztek: one of the worst horrors ever devised to punish the eye.They're both clunky wagons with strange cargo area windows, but the Valiant kind of pulls it off. The Aztek raises the bile in my throat. On the other hand, could it be that the Aztek's hateful appearance will sweeten in forty years? Mmmmmm.... not a chance.

What's with the fake Irish talk in the copy? I wondered if maybe the Valiant was assembled in Ireland, in some kooky attempt to  reduce labor costs? Nope. It was built in Hamtramck Michigan. Maybe the "Begorrah" and "Scotch" remarks were some kind of joke about practicality and frugality? This seems likely in '61, before anyone thought being an ethnocentric honky prick was a bad thing?

In other news, why is the man in the foreground staring so intently at the mechanic's wiener? "So, uh... must get awful lonely fixing cars all day, talking to customers, answering the phone, with no man in a hat to hold you close and tell you it'll be all right."


Chalk Diagram - Explaining my head powers.

Joke #1 - "...and with an energy of ten to the sixteenth watts, my mental ray is more than a match for any villain I encounter... unless there's some bad guy out there who's getting ten to the seventeenth watts of energy, but I think you'll agree that's just silly."

Joke #2 - "... and so then I was all 'behold MY powers!' and the neutron star was like 'PKKSSSHOOOO!' and the people were all 'Hooray!' and you totally should have seen it. ..................... Fine. I was late because I locked my keys in the bathroom."

Joke #3 - "... and with an energy of ten to the sixteenth watts, one beam is focused through the two lenses. The other beam travels unimpeded. The two beams recombine their power as they converge on.... my ear? hang on, I need to check my numbers."

Good glavin! Joke #4 comes from CraigAccording to my calculations mm-hey my Meet-Girls-o-Nator will be a boon to the nng-glavin scientific community with the kissing and hugging and the lllllllaaaady!! 


From the Pages of Science - The Sciencey Pages

New advancements in the various areas of science. SCIENCE COMPLETE!
New portable power saw makes jobs quicker by bringing the tool right to the work site. May be powered by any standard 120 volt train conductor via the accessory outlet at the top of the spine.

New "Mr. Bolus" extractor. Available in small, medium, and three-bean.

Newly developed automobile lights greatly reduce the risk of running yourself over. Extra illumination lets you spot yourself lying in the road seconds earlier, giving you precious extra time to swerve around yourself, preventing a tragic selficide.

Miniaturized electronic components fit into gigantic glasses. Two transistors, a capacitor, some wire, five screws, and a tiny switch have been built into the arms of these enormous glasses. Researchers hope to one day perform the same feat with components that do something. "Cramming miscellaneous junk into huge eyeglasses is a first critical step towards achieving the same goal, but with useful electronics that perform some kind of function." said head engineer Clark Worbold. "As for this current model, I can imagine the glasses being a boon to some nerd who wishes to conceal his dorky hobby inside his gigantic nerd glasses, keeping his loser secret safe... except for the dorky glasses, that is."


Campbell's Frisky Sour - How can you have enneh poodding if you doon't drink yer meat?

Mouths are weird. Mine, for example, can tolerate water at a temperature slightly above what the skin on my hands can bear. I don't know why this is. Maybe it's because, every morning, I punish my intra-mounthular surfaces with tea that, only moments before, was threatening to melt its way through the mug. My hands have been subjected to no such conditioning.

My mouth will happily accommodate meat-flavored fluids like soup or gravy without complaint, so long as they are hot. Change the temperature of either of these fluids to, say, "nicely chilled", and the scene changes to that of my mouth spraying the food of meals gone by into the local plumbing while I try to mumble apologies to my mouth, inbetween torrents of post-consumer food.

So, my reaction to this ad for the Frisky Sour, from Campbell's Soup, brought my old friend Mr. Gorge to the top of my throat just to say hello. It's well that the recipe doesn't call for any alcohol, because in order to bring this swill near my mouth, I would have to have a few pints of something strong in my belly already, and maybe a little Toluene. Of course, in that state, I'd have a sip from a glass of ants, not that I'm a fan. Such is the grossness of The Frisky Sour to me.

A recent (in America, at least) episode of Top Gear had the lads trying to make a snow plow out of a combine harvester. James May mentioned his need to have a mug of "Bovril" because of the cold weather they were working in, plowing streets in Norway with their "Snowbine", as they called it. Bovril has been mentioned on Top Gear before, in connection with bystanders at European rally events, sipping the thick beefy drink while compact cars tumble through the air a few feet away.
Bovril is a British thing, although the context in which it's been mentioned on TG implies that it's more of a grandpa drink. Jeremy Clarkson made some kind of joke about "this isn't the fifties" or something. So, what's it? Why retype, when quoting Wikipedia is just as lazy?

"Bovril is the trademarked name of a thick, salty meat extract, developed in the 1870s by John Lawson Johnston and sold in a distinctive, bulbous jar. Bovril can be made into a drink by diluting with hot water, or less commonly with milk.[1] It can also be used as a flavouring for soupsstews orporridge, or spread on bread, especially toast, rather like Marmite."

Bluh. The impression I get is that Bovril is generally drunk hot. So why does the thought of it still make my glottis spasm shut? Well, I can't imagine drinking a hot glass of gravy. So, small doses maybe? Well, Beef soup is fine when sipped, less fine when swigged at room temperature. Jeez. So, meat drinks are okay with me only when they're hot and drunk slowly? Makes me sound like a pansy. So many rules. I have no excuse. But, my shame is enough to make me try a sip of Bovril, if offered. A frisky sour? Go stick your head in a pig.

NOTE: The Bovril poster up there is one of my favorite types of monstrous advertising: the animal dreaming of being ground up into a particular brand of food. Also see Charlie the Tuna and Dormeyer coffee pot. Zaphod Beeblebrox would insist that it's better than eating a cow that doesn't want to be eaten. Is it? I'm happier if A) the animal isn't sentient and B) never knew what was coming, rather than excitedly riding a train to meet his fate.

OTHER NOTE: Nice rendering on the glass in the Campbell's ad. Too bad it's a photograph. Note withdrawn!


Pet Penguin - Sharing the chores.

 Joke #1 - "...and tomorrow night, I'll cook and YOU can do the dishes, sweetie."

Joke #2 - June was irritated. How many times had she asked the boys to scrape their plates before putting them in the sink?

Joke #3 - Great. Another detergent mascot trying to sell her things. June had had it up to here with cleaning the penguin crap / duck crap / teddy bear crap / anthropomorphic hybridized human bars of soap crap out of the sink.

Joke #4 - Just one more dish left. June just had to rinse and dry the gravy boat, then feed the gravy boat some sardines, clean out the gravy boat's cage, and put the gravy boat to bed. French cooking was exhausting, but totally worth it!


Northern Towels - Forced retrospective.

Here's a nice but simple piece of work from the days before Photoshop. Northern Towels wanted the boy on the wrapper to appear as though he were wiping up a spill with an actual towel on the table.
To do this, the artist used something called forced perspective. Forced perspective takes advantage of our brains' natural desire to make sense of the world in three dimensions, even when we're only seeing two.

The boy on the roll of towels is warped around the cylindrical shape of the roll. The extended arm is a paper cutout "peeling" off the roll hanging out in space there. The boy's arm is a vertical plane, perpendicular to the surface of the table. The way the arm is drawn just makes it look dimensional, allowing your brain to happily assume the boy is a drawing come hideously to life to wipe up your messes.
Then, a paper towel was carefully crumpled up in such a way that it reinforced the appearance of the arm extending back into space, as if it were sort of lying on the table. Then, a little careful lighting was done to avoid any shadows that would have revealed the flatness of the arm. Then, summon the food artist to arrange the glass and a puddle of milk (usually a mix of Elmer's glue and milk - actual milk never looks right on camera) and the shot is ready.

Also, paper children need the calcium and aliphatic resin that can only be found in glue milk, or "glumk" as they call it.


Sylvania Scanner Color Slide Theater - HDMI, 1969 style.

So here's an eye-opener. Turns out Sylvania made a TV that showed your slides, just like the way you can plug your (insert trendy i-device here) into your TV now and look at pictures or whatever. Who knew.

It also had a cassette recorder in it. Not a reel-to-reel. A cassette recorder. This is pretty surprising for 1969. In my mind, cassettes didn't hit it big until the mid-seventies.

This can only mean that this TV is A) monstrously complicated and, as a result, B) unreliable. There must be a camera in the little slide carousel that captures the slides for display on the CRT. The cassette mechanism was put in there to provide a soundtrack to your slide show, with some kind of synchronization system - probably an audible beep or some such.

Pretty cool, for the month that it works before it goes "ping" and displays only the slide you shot of your blank TV screen.


G.E. Americana - Fashionable for several minutes.

Barb loved her new kitchen. The colors were so very "now". The cherry cabinets matched nearly approximately the hue of the countertops, and her new G.E. Americana appliances, in trendy Goldenrod enamel, were the star of the show.
Her husband had pushed hard for the Arranged Bacon Patriot curtains, which Barb wasn't all that fond of, but he'd let her get the tile in Chewed Muselix Beige, so it was a fair trade.

Doug had made her the bookshelves, so she could keep all her recipes close to hand - everything from roast beef to braised beef, right where she needed it. Doug could build anything, so long as it could be made from 1x12 and involved no "tricky cutting".

She had continued her patriotic brown theme with that little revolutionary snare drum and the Crucified Liberty cabinet handles.

Yes, Barb was sure her kitchen would be the toast of Wood Vole Ave, and she would have a dinner party to celebrate. She knew just who to invite. She'd call Carol Brady, and Lieutenant Fish and that delightful Gabe Kotter.


Alternative Education 1969 - The kids are all right.

Joke #1 - "Siiiiigh. Yes Randy, we all see your butt."

Joke #2 - It was only day three of the new "free-form curriculum" and already the girls were rehearsing "Minuet in E Major: Danse of the Naughty Dionysos for Woodwinds and Underpants". The board was going to have a field day with this.

Joke #3 - The teacher had stepped out for a bathroom break, and in just three minutes the boys had begun to live like apes, and the girls had set up a barter system of opera and lip gloss.

Joke #4 - A rare glimpse inside the David Lee Roth Academy of Music and Snugly-Fitting Trousers.

Joke #5. [Craig checks in with a wish-I'd-though-of-it zinger.] No Child's Behind Left


1967 Chevy II - Down with "up vs down".

Today we're going to pick on 1967 and their quaint ideas about what an "economy car" was. Also, we're going to explain a little piece of pop culture slang from the era that may escape some of our more fetal readers.
The 1967 Chevy was apparently marketed as an "economy car". I don't feel like looking for the quotes key any more this morning, so if I use the term "economy car" again, just assume I'm being sarcastic, and if you want, you can do the little finger quotes for your own enjoyment.

What kind of numbers would qualify you for economy car status (quotation fingers) in '67? Well, the car was available with as many as six different engines, the smallest of which being a plausibly economical (again with the fingers, please) 2.4 liter four cylinder engine, which made 120 hp / 18 mpg all the way up to the V-8, which returned numbers as low as 11.7 mpg. That's 1967 for you. Now, anyone who wants to burn that much fuel  pretty much has to drive a prickmobile or other hilarious prosthetic penis.

In 1967, there was a bit of a thingy going on with the youth culture. Various bands and artists thought they were remaking human civilization as they saw fit. One could proclaim what one liked and disliked by shouting "up with this" and, by comparison, "down with that" (no fingers needed there). Then, because you and your hippie friends were so smart and peaceful, you'd hang around for twenty years and turn into the very thing you hated so much in the summer of love. Well, they didn't call it "the summer of self-awareness" or "the summer of honesty" (do whatever you want with your fingers from now on).

Anyway, Chevy's marketing department chose to strike while the iron was hot and cash in on the catch phrase while it was still in the mouths of the kids they were hoping to sell symbols of the Establishment to. Good job there. The Kids would be ready to turn their backs on their ideals and throw themselves into consumerism, but not for twenty years. For once, advertising got there BEFORE everyone else, instead of chasing the tail of a trend and making an ass of itself.


Westminster Socks - The tide is high.

Is it bad or good that we can look at this picture and tell exactly what they're hoping to sell us? I say it's lame. In order to show this much sock when seated, these men would need to be wearing their son's trousers.
The National Sock Council's (NCC) Searchable Database (NCCSDB) says that the average height that a trouser cuff will rise, due to the geometry of the seated male human, is three inches. So, these gentlemen can only dream of a world where their pants brush the tops of their shoes during a nice stroll to the tailor to complain.

Of course, this is Westminster Socks. It's all about the socks, man. Maybe the excuse is that these guys are wearing culottes? Clam diggers maybe?

The painting is servicebale, but not great. It looks kind of flat. try this: look at the painting and ask yourself "Where's the light coming from?". Well, you can look at the floor and see that cast shadow from the man's leg and deduce the light is coming through the window, and the light is of a yellowish color. But, you should be able to look at anything in the picture and identify the light source.

Here's a little example I came up with in five minutes. I added a little rimlight to the men's legs, coming through the window. The original is on the left. My five-minute rimlight is on the right.
The artist took the time to paint that whole street scene outside, but it looks like he left the focal point of the whole picture half done.

Speaking of the street scene, I love that bus. It's all streamlined and greenyellow-ey. Westminster could sell me a bus any day, based on this ad. But I think I'd be uncomfortable wearing flat socks. Also, I don't think I have enough sock pride to wear my pants that short.

Note: To all our British readers (Are there any of you? Prolly not.), the word "pants" means "trousers" in the U.S. I know in Enga-land it means "underwear", but over here we say "underwear". "Trousers" and "pants" are interchangeable. Sorry about what we've done with your language. We'll try to have it fixed up by the time we return it to you.


Blow-A-Tune - Low hanging fruit.

The Research and Snark department dropped this picture on my desk months ago, and I've stared at it a number of times, but never posted it. Sometimes the jokes are so obvious, it feels cruel and lazy... like I'm being a bully. But, I'm a busy man, and I need to purge this demon so I can get it out of my inbox and sleep at night. Blow-A-Tune, you're going in! May FSM have mercy on the dank, empty chasm that serves as my soul.
Joke #1 - The kids. The bills. The dead beat ex-husband. Some days,  the only thing that got Judy out of bed was her Playskool Crackadoodle.

Joke #2 - The Blow-A-Tune simultaneously teaches children the joys of valuable life skills like turning things and blowing through things, as well as the equally fulfilling activities of deciding to stop turning things and not blowing through anything. Available this fall.

Joke #3 - The Fisher-Price Drinky-Toot plays any one of five different songs while simultaneously measuring your child's blood alcohol level with a 1% margin of error. Available this fall.

Joke #4 - The Blow-A-Tune comes with ten song disks, with more available at your local music store. Wagner's Rings of the Nibelung will be sold as a special 120 disk set, with each disk measuring nine feet in diameter. Financing available.

Joke #5 is a bit racy, and comes from Sue. Shew! Can we open a window, please?
When you find a child's true talent, it's a parent's obligation to nurture and support. At least she won't be on the pole! 

[Commenter jokes will be added to the post.    -Mgmt.]


Tiny Tears - Cherish the tears.

Like the "Disappointment" plate of last week, this ad for "Tiny Tears" addresses the human mother instinct that delights in the misery of children. She cries like a real baby. One would think that, when you sat down to design an idealized child, the first thing to go on the cutting room floor is the wailing and leaking of various fluids. Guess not. I'm a shitty mother.
Remember when Marge Simpson was feeling aimless and bored? I think it was when Homer got a job at GloboChem, and all Marge's chores were taken care of by the robotic wonderhouse they lived in. I could be wrong though and I can't be bothered to look it up. (By making all information easy to find, the web has made any act of willful ignorance a demonstration of supreme laziness.) Anyway, Marge felt like nobody needed her any more. So, she eventually wandered into Maggie's room, where the baby was sleeping peacefully. Marge poked her once, twice, and thrice mightily until Maggie woke up crying. Marge immediately picked her up and comforted her: "Oooh, you poor little thing! Mommy's here!".

A girl's innate desire for a simulacrum of an inconsolable weeping baby is frikkin creepy. Here's another cartoon reference. This ad reminds me of the South Park episode in which Eric Cartman, having finally broken the spirit of Scott Tenorman and making him cry, drinks his tears, calling them "delicious". Maybe they could have shown the little girl consoling the doll, instead of apparently delighting in the simulated tantrum? It looks evil.

The ad claims the doll cries REAL TEARS. Huh? Are the tears just water, or saline solution? Did the American Character Doll corporation somehow harvest actual tears from crying children? How did they store and distribute the refill tears to the customers after the initial tear supply that came with the doll ran out? I think human tears may qualify as bio-hazardous material, and as such, would be subject to strict regulation regarding their sale and distribution across state lines. The world must have been different in 1950.

The doll's face is a little odd. First, the eyebrows look like they're carefully plucked, or maybe drawn in with an eyebrow pencil. I think infancy is a little early to begin imposing these kinds of gender roles on a child. I'd cry too if I had my eyebrows pulled out as a baby.

Second, the mouth is almost too small. She looks like King Henry VIII, who died of about a hundred different things, including kind of being a jerk. The irony is that I doubt old Hank ever shed a tear in his life. However, resembling him is definitely something to cry about.

Also, I need some kind of joke about the irony of King Henry looking like a baby, when a male heir is the one thing he had so much trouble making. Maybe a joke about him buying the Tiny tears doll and having it beheaded. Gotta get the staff to come up with a joke or something about that.