Spacesuit 1955

Moon robot designs, 1962 - Thinking outside the toybox.

In 1962, the moon was still this strange thing made of cheese. Either that, or just the largest hole in the curtain surrounding the Earth, which, by the way, was the center of the universe. So, engineers were trying pretty hard to design a vehicle that could make its way across an unknown moonscape of nearly any food type imaginable - from cheese to rocky Cap'n Crunch consistency.

The ironically un-creative term "thinking outside the box" hadn't been horribly invented yet. What was the world like when mediocre minds didn't have the worn-out phrase "outside the box" to throw around? The best brains of  '62 had to use the less quotable but far more accurate word "inventing" to describe what they were doing, which is just as well. This left the useless idiots of society free to make up snappy phrases to describe what they themselves were incapable of doing.

Please enjoy this full article from the March '62 issue of Popular Science. And try to remember that all these robots were designed by adults... even the RCA ones. Sheesh. The GM designs look far less embarrassing.

Not that you did, but if you ask me, the most plausible idea presented in this article is the screw-drive moon rover. Don't miss the FaceTube video of a Russian-built screw drive ATV at the bottom of the post. It works better than you'd think.

You know the drill. Click each one for a full size 1600 px tall version.

Astronaut Training - The roationater.

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Joke #1 - The mono-axis rotational trainer prepares astronauts for work in the unforgiving depths of Grammar School Version of Outer Space.

Joke #2 - Always in favor of over-preparation, NASA astronaut candidates are trained for the inevitable difficulties involved in turning on the hose in orbit.

Joke #3 - "Nope. Listen, Don. We're not getting any thrust at all from your current shape. Try to make yourself more twisty, like a propeller.     ...and I don't want to hear any more remarks about there being 'no air in space so propellers don't work'. Which one of us is an astronaut and which one of us is an astronaut trainee, mister?   ...Right. I thought so."

Joke #4 - "Sir, I believe the space capsule is a little out of scale relative to the planet. Oh, perspective? Aah, got it."

Joke #5 - There are fringe groups that believe the moon landing was staged, but their arguments lack any credible evidence.

Joke #6 - "Sorry, sir. I just poked a hole in Indonesia with my wrench. Shall I try and patch it? Over."

Joke #7 - Astronaut training for the delicate procedure to get free Cinemax in orbit.

Joke #8 - (Fig. 12) Once the clutch cable and input shaft are disconnected, carefully lift the astronaut form the capsule's engine bay. You are now ready to swap in a super sweet Chevy crate motor of your choice.

Joke #9 - "Oh, no, children! I've begun an uncontrolled rotation! Which of my thrusters shall I use to correct it? Shall I use my starboard lateral thruster????? Shall I??? Or should I use my port lateral thruster????? You'd better think quickly! I'm becoming ever so disoriented!" (Insert sound of children shouting advice.)

Joke # 10 - Astronauts in orbit on the International Space Station train to someday work in the harsh environment of fake space on Earth.

Jim D. Wasted no time in sending us this "reference obscura". Those who grew up watching Ray Raynor may get it. "Pow! . . . . . . Pow! . . . . . powpowpowpowpowpowpowpowpow!"
Mr. Fancy ICantSeeAThingInThisHelmetPants_2 was first runner up in the Get It in Quick Olympics with this combined Star Wars / PBS themed joke #12 - Early PBS trial broadcast of Bob Ross' "Painting Space, Man" was doomed to failure, as Bob found he could not paint "Happy Little Stars" while his signature "fro" was sandwiched under his helmet and he was "high as fuck".

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

The space-suit.

Joke #1 - "You look great! Yes, my son designed it in preschool. It was so good, the teacher put it up in the hall. Launch is in eight minutes."

Joke #2 - Air Force Chief of Staff General Thomas D. White examines a suit the Air Force says will enable man to go anywhere in space, so long as space has at least one atmosphere of pressure, isn't too chilly, and looks mostly like the planets on Lost in Space.

Joke #3 - After his final prep and briefing, Captain Clev Rhintfarb was now ready to eat at Chipotle.

Joke #4 - Air Force Chief of Staff General Thomas D. White examines glamorous new suit of the shimmeriest silver lamé with contrasting gloves and booties, gloriously set off with anodized hose fittings, which will enable man to go to the most fabulous reaches of space with confidence and sass.

Joke #5 - A tired worker, seen just before decontamination, after putting in a twelve hour shift in the tinsel mines of northern Lapland.

Joke #6 - Air Force Chief of Staff General Thomas D. White examines a suit the Air Force says will enable astronauts to go anywhere in space while the pounds simply melt away.

Cyclotronboy sent us this Joke #7, with an atomic weight of hilarious! Thanks, CTB! - Sure, sure, space and astronauts! Whatever you say, Lieutenant. As long as that thing out there on the tower can launch nuclear bombs like those eggheads promised, I don't care what nonsense you're up to!

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

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Kooking Kornir - Gelatinous Crater Mite Larval Ring.

Pathetic humans! Prepare to accept a delightful summer recipe or be destroyed! Gelatinous Crater Mite Larva Ring! Observe this image with your eyestalks!

If you are like me, Oteogg, Conqueror of All Space, you know how long the summer afternoons can be on any planet within seven thousand kilometers of your parent star! Armed with the formidable preparation whose construction I am about to describe, your young will be begging for a complete absence of dessert, for their bellies will be full of wonderful crater mite larvae!

Begin by harvesting crater mite larvae from your local scorched, uninhabitable crater! Remain motionless for not less than six hours, and crater mite larvae will emerge from subterranean burrows to eat your flesh! The joke will be on them, as you seize them in your mighty claws, flinging them into your larvae bucket! Return to your base, and lightly kill your crater mite larvae with a mite mallet, placing them in a level three containment field while you prepare the bundt cake pan!

Seize a bundt cake pan and slather the interior with food-grade dietary lubricant! Then, pour in an introductory layer of multipurpose protein gelatin! Allow the introductory layer to set, then add the crater mite larvae, arranging them in a delightful fashion, as shown in the image above! Observe delight now!

On top of the larval layer, add chunks of adult crater mite meat! Whoops! Go back to the scorched, uninhabitable crater and capture an adult crater mite, first! I am sorry! Fill the bundt cake pan to the rim with the remaining multipurpose protein gelatin! Allow this preparation to become firm, over a period of one pathetic Earth hour in a refrigeration unit, or outside the hull of your ship! The firming process may be accelerated by shouting at it!

Present this to your young and / or troopers while screaming the Song of Grinding With Teeth, and watch them cower with joy!

I am Oteogg! I have spoken!

Communication ends!

Central Mutual Insurance - Tomorrowiness.

The Central Mutual Insurance company new a good thing when they saw it. Space was big stuff in 1957. All the world's scientists had nipple erections for the I.G.Y. project, and Russia's Sputnik was about to scare America into a trouser-moistening hysteria, motivating them to build Nasa in '58. What to do? Sell insurance.

"Tomorrow Minded". Tomorrow minded how? Did Central Mutual underwrite part of the government's efforts to put a coffee maker into orbit just so they could say they did it? Nope. They just want you to plan for The Future, and getting your attention with some spacey imagery is job one. Aah. Well, they made some nice art for their ad, at least.

America's first satellite would eventually be Explorer 1, pictured above. It was the symbol of America's tumescent excitement about space. Hands above the table please, gentlemen. If Nasa had been run by women, would Explorer have looked the same?

Here's a watercolor of Central Mutual's advertiser's hired artist's impression of a satellite, which you'll agree looks rather Sputniky. And why not? It was the only successful satellite at the time this ad ran. Note the safety tips on the ends of the antennae. We don't want to poke space's eye out. This would be the dominant American image of a satellite until the Space Shuttle program of The Seventies, which allowed every American to see video of satellites being placed into orbit. This revealed to everyone the fact that satellites from now on would look less like chrome basketballs and more like dishwashers. Progress.

And here's the super brilliant house that we all hoped to be living in. Some of us are still dreaming of owning a futuristic lair of such enviable coolness. Such crazy angles. Wantwantwantwant. But look at the little man next to the car. All the future in the world isn't going to help you remember where you left your keys. Maybe you left them in the solarium, where Bond will find them and escape with your wife and nonspecific sports coupe?

"I think I left it in drive."

Lastly, we bring you this watercolor astronaut, in the Michelin Man-style spacesuit that everyone imagined but nobody ever used. Note the two change makers on his breasts. He must be parking cars in orbit. Poor job he's doing of it, too. Look at the satellite. It's getting farther away with every orbit. You call THAT geosynchronous? You're off the mission. You can walk home. Maybe he's staring up at the satellite, wondering if his bubble helmet will be enough to protect him from the rather pointy parts, once it's unstable orbit brings it out near him? I hope he has Central Mutual. Pitching their services as "future minded", they'd better cover satellite-related injuries. Also some kind of joke about Laika, Russia, and coverage of "acts of dog". [Note to self: have an intern polish up this last paragraph into a delightful zinger.]

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1958 Pontiac Chieftain - No parking, even for you.

Obscure car news now, from your friends at GO tower! Ever heard of a Pontiac Chieftain? Me neither. Turns out it was one of Pontiac's first actual new designs after Doubleyuh Doubleyuh Eye Eye. Today's ad is from the car's final year of production: 1958. Hey look! A rocket!

The Images and Scanning Them squad apologizes for the krinkly and overall crappy scan of today's picture. The binding of this magazine didn't want to spread 'em for us, and it put up a fight. If the magazine's held together to 44 years, we'd be cruel to cut the thing apart just for the sake of getting a clean scan. There are plenty of jackwads who have no problem with destroying ephemera of our past and selling it to you for $10 a page, though. Besides, maybe if we keep them intact, future generations of snarky jerks like me can make fun of the pictures on the holographic blogs of the future or whatever? Or, maybe we'll cut them up and sell them when they can go for $100 a page? Who's laughing now? No, really. Who's laughing? I have no idea what people in the outside world are doing unless someone tells me in the comments.

Anyway, this car straddles the fence of old-and-cool / old-and-ridiculous. On one hand, it's way more sculpted and elaborate than any car you can buy today. On the other hand, all of the doo dads, chrome stars and rocket motor shapes look like it was designed by a ten year old boy. Your mileage may vary, of course. In any case, it's got two tone paint, one of which is orange. You don't see a lot of orange cars these days.

Here's something interesting, maybe. This ad spans the groin of the magazine. The magazine probably billed Pontiac for two ads - one full page ad on the right and one half page on the left. The half page probably cost less because there's no color in it... just black. So, Pontiac maybe saved a few pennies by buying a full page color ad and a half page in B/W, thanks to a thrifty designer. This adds up when you're buying space in a magazine that has a print run in the millions.

So, the man in the picture. What's his deal? The space guy looks like he's explaining to the man that he can't park his stupid car here, nomatter how rockety he thinks it is. "You'll have to move your vehicle to a minimum safe distance of 2200 yards, sir. Also, unless you're involved with the launch, I'll have to ask you to  move yourself also. Yes, it looks a lot like our rocket. In twenty minutes it'll look a lot like a smoldering pile of slag if you don't move the damn car... sir.

Pontiac mentions in tiny print that the windows are "safety plate" glass, as if this should reassure us that the car is thereby  immune to the effects of rocket exhaust. At least, that seems to be how the owner interpreted it. A little knowledge can be dangerous.

At least he should have put the top up if he's expecting to enjoy a rocket launch from 200 feet. Sure he'll get  a better view of the rocket as it heads for space, but it may be the last thing he sees. Maybe that's why this was the last year of production for the Chieftain? All the owners incinerated themselves because the car was too darn rockety.

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Kooking Kornir - Compressed meat disc of adequate nutrition!

Mouth vehicles, prepare to construct a hyper-savory nutrient puck to fulfill the belly requirements of your hungriest planetary conquerors! Behold the compressed meat disc of adequate nutrition!

Initiate procedure in this fashion! Acquire sixteen pounds of well-marbled creature meat. Marbling occurs when creatures are largely sedentary, so let us hope that your victims did not receive adequate physical conditioning before choosing to become your supplicants! BAH hah hah hah hah! Depending on creature physiology and your metabolism, you may choose to de-horn, de-fur, or de-scale your creatures.

My adventures have shown me the wisdom of choosing to cook using humans. They are rarely well-conditioned for battle and seem to reproduce in large numbers at any convenience, rather than at preordained optimal biological cycles. The fools! If choosing humans for your meat disc of adequate nutrition, endeavor to harvest them during their nocturnal somnolent phase. They are less resistant to conquering during this time. Additionally, you will find the humans to be more savory upon consumption if you scare them before preparation. Humans are most easily frightened by utterances of a single syllable at very high volumes. Appropriate volume for frightening humans is slightly above what I would call a "conversational bellow". My most successful syllable is "GRAAAAHHH". Scare to taste with syllable of your choice!

Place your creature meat into a freshly cleansed compression cylinder, such as may be found in the hydraulics bay of your starship. The pressures required to actuate standard starship landing gear (530 pounds per square Earth-inch) are also very nearly ideal for creature meat compression. If you are are accustomed to the cuisine of the northern reaches of the Spyuff mountains on the second moon of Ixst, you may also choose to leave your compression cylinder in an un-cleansed state, for the various flavors that hydraulic fluid imparts to your creature meat. Those entities of Ixst really know how to wantonly celebrate! They are aware of their identities!

After two standard lunar orbits, test your meat disc with a claw. If the meat is insolent or is too soft, compress an additional lunar cycle or until meat disc has learned some manners. The meat disc can be difficult to extract from the compression cylinder. If I am extremely hungry or merely impatient, I prefer to simply crash the ship into a convenient planetoid, extricating the newly-formed meat disc from the wreckage. Destruction of a perfectly serviceable starship is also a delightful excuse to serve canapes and get in some additional shouting.

 Locate meat disc among the wreckage and messily devour! Alternately, meat discs of adequate nutrition of this nature can be stored for many lunar cycles, providing convenient energy to all your metabolic functions on your longest forced marches across surfaces of varied conditions!

When served as the centerpiece to a gala luncheon, the meat disc goes well with chardonnay, strawberry spritzer, or hydrogen. Do not plan to accommodate leftovers! All fragments of the  meat disc of adequate nutrition shall form an accretion disc spiraling rapidly into your guests' toothy maws with no hope of escape! You shall see!

Recipe complete! I am Oteogg! Hear me!

A ride in a space capsule.

Rocket Station 1949 - Cavescience.

The Phil Are Go! archaeology squad recently unearthed this image of a proposed "rocket launching station" from deep within a magazine. Judging by the number of strata to be removed (83), researchers were able to determine the page of the image. It was on page 84. Working in semi-sterile conditions, layers of boring and unfunny geekdom were removed from the area above page 84, and the image was painstakingly scanned using the P.A.G. Hundred Dollar Scanner (HDS). The image had to be absolutely straight or history would be mad. So, they used a ruler. The button was archaeologically pressed with tweezers. History came alive.

Most telling is the size of the image. It appears in the magazine at about the same scale as a Bazooka Joe comic. This implies that the artist was ashamed of his blasphemy, perhaps fearing reprisal from the religious leaders of the time. Perhaps the artist intended for his drawing to be sold in bubble gum packets, where his notions of space exploration would be safely dismissed as childish fantasy, or collected and mailed away in great numbers in exchange for a novelty palm buzzer.

This image proves beyond a doubt that humans in the 1949th century knew about space, as well as drawing things. Previously, our understanding of 1949 imaging techniques involved spitting paint over an outstretched hand, as in the caves of Altamira. But, it cannot be denied that primitive 1949 humans had a basic understanding of different shapes. The rocket is all coney and the building is kind of squarey. Notice that the artist pointed the rocket up into the air, indicating that he or she knew where space was. This is impressive, considering the fact that automobile designers of the general era were still obsessed with putting boobs on cars.

The artist's understanding of the principles of space travel continued to impress the staff. The bottom of the rocket is carefully housed in a trapezoidal building. Presumably, this is intended to retain the precious heat from the mighty blast of the booster engines, indicating that this very first rocket station was probably intended to be built somewhere cold, like moon, or at the bottom of the ocean.

In keeping with our understanding of primitive man's fear of fire, the designer included a kind of chimney thing, seen to the left of the rocket building, to make the fire go away into the air, where it would punish their gods for making gravity so frustratingly strong. It is not clear what the artist intended to be used as fuel for the big space rocket. Probably human feces, or communists. The artist also had the foresight to poke some holes in the building, so that people inside could see outside without opening the door, risking a serious cold or drowning (see above). Also, there's a pretty neat choo choo train.