#one had been built in the 1950's and showed it
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About a month ago, my wife and I went to a nearby city for a short trip, just for fun. The city in question is not what you'd call a destination place, it was just out of state and somewhere neither of us had really been. We got a lot of, "Why there!?" from people. To which I honestly said, "We haven't been and it's not too far away."
Of course, people were still confused but we went and we had a great time. On the way home, my wife and I were laughing about the confusion people had and I realized something. I told my wife, "You know, I think it's because we really do make our own fun. We can go anywhere and find something to do."
This is quite true and I think it's something that can be taught. It's also really useful if you're broke but still want to do something. I'm going to give you a few ideas here that apply to both travel and local things to do.
1) Re-align what you think of as An Event. If you think of An Event as some huge production, then you'll have issues. An Event can be as simple as going to the park. If you need something to make it a bit different so it feels noteworthy, change it up a bit and go to the park with the intention of doing something out of the ordinary (fly kites, drum circle, sing, watch the stars come out, whatever).
2) Get signed up to tourism emails (local, state, etc). You'll see a lot of little festivals and stuff. Make a habit of going and looking at those tourism sites every couple of months and keeping track of stuff that looks interesting.
3) Check out local colleges/universities to see if they have any free productions going on. Really helpful if your local college has a performing arts program. Even if they're not free, often times they're really low cost.
4) Kill the cringe. If you see something that just seems silly, go anyway! Worse case, you leave early but you might end up having a ball. This also helps you keep an open mind.
5) Be flexible. This ties into #4 as well in that if you kill the cringe and are flexible, you'll try stuff you normally wouldn't think about trying. This is also really important when you travel. We usually end up talking with someone who's local while we're there and they could have some really cool suggestions. This last trip we ended up talking with a retail clerk for half an hour as he infodumped on us about places to eat. Every place we ate at he suggested and every single one was absolutely amazing.
6) Google Maps. Go to Google Maps, center it over your area (or wherever you're going) and type what you're wanting to do. Keep it short and sweet. For example, I just did this today looking for performing arts theaters in my area. I typed in "Theater" and hit go. I had to sort out the movie theater places but I still found at least one performing arts theater I'd never heard of in my area. Suggestions to try are Parks, Theaters, and Museums. You'll sometimes see groupings as well, like a couple of museums and theaters close together and that gives you a hint to go and look in that district of town for more stuff.
7) Last but not least, keep a positive attitude. Everything might end up sucking on whatever outing you went on but that's not the end of the world. Just know when to cut your losses and bounce. At least you might get a good story out of it.
#I'd do a piece on how to find cheap lodgings but I'm terrible at that#the last three cheap hotel rooms I booked for us have been some variety of “What the hell were you thinking” from my wife#one had been built in the 1950's and showed it#one had cigarette burns and dead bugs in the sheets#and one was in a sketchy part of town that the police showed up to our door at 10pm trying to get in#still not 100% that last one was a robbery scam but I didn't open the door so I can't say#also to be fair the 1950's one was in the most desolate part of the Oklahoma Panhandle so the options were limited
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Russian State Library
The biggest library in Russia and one of the biggest in the world. It was designed in late 1920s, soon after the birth of the new Soviet state, and fully finished in the 1950s. In includes 4 buildings and one 19-floor book repository. There are several reading halls, a cafe, and a whole bunch of book-filled nooks and crannies.
I'm writing this post sitting in the library's biggest reading hall - Reading Hall No. 3. It was opened in 1957 and still retains most of the original furniture and design (only there are now individual power sockets in every desk). Most of the tables are occupied by people with books and laptops. It's very quiet.
The book depository is a huge building that rises high above everything else in this historical area. It had 10 floors originally, each 5m high, but later it was divided into 19 smaller floors. We visited one of the floors. I was impressed to see that the windows are made out of Falconnier glass blocks (made specially for the library in Gus Khrustalny).
There are two automated delivery systems in the library: one delivers readers' orders into the depository (pneumatic tubes) and the other delivers books back to the reader (monorail). We had a chance to see both of them in action, very impressive! They also kept a bit of the old book delivery system that worked from 1953 until 2015. I saw it on pictures before, and it was great to see the granny in real life. :) There are a lot of "grannies" in the library, from the green lamps to rotary phones to wall clocks. The pneumatic tube system has been in place since 1975. People whose job is to preserve books are very likely to preserve everything else.
I loved this anecdote. In one of the reading halls, there's a big painting of Lenin (pictured below). Apparently it was put in place in mid-1950s to cover the bas-relief that was there originally. On the bas-relief there are Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, Vladimir Lenin and Joseph Stalin. After Stalin's death in 1953 and debunking the cult of personality, images of him were quickly removed from everywhere. The library, being true preservers of history, kept theirs but covered it up. It just shows what kind of people librarians are. :)
Although the library is working on running a full digital catalogue of all their 48 million items, if you want access to older editions you'll probably need to use the old paper card catalogue. The room gave me major nostalgy - I remember using this kind of catalogue in my local library when I was a kid. The sound of pulling out a narrow box, then the little built-in table, going through the cards one by one, writing down what you need on library cards. It was a whole process! Of course, the local library's catalogue was WAY smaller.
A few more shots of interiors. Although the building itself was designed in 1920s (during the era of avantgarde and art deco), the interiors were mostly done in 1950s when the main design style was neo classicism.
I enjoyed this tour immensely, so much so that I had to go back and get a library card so I can see more of it, sit in every reading hall and drink a cup of tea in the marble hall cafeteria. Also, the idea of 48 million books at the tip of my fingers makes me giddy. Thank you to my followers for the monetary support and making this real for me: K. T., H. W., T. B., m., @depetium, @transarkadydzyubin, S. R.
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San Francisco 1960-1985. Part 2
The Lion Lounge was the worlds longest running all male strip club. It was in SF, open seven days a week, and between 1960 and 1985 was owned and run by partners Eddie Jones and Raymond O'Hare.
Eddie and Ray were huge pro wrestling nerds and actually met at a pro show in 1950, so when they bought the Lion Lounge they knew they wanted to feature live underground pro wrestling shows. There was an underserved market of pro fans who preferred their wrestling more 'intimate', and they planned to serve it. And then some.
In the main bar upstairs is where the strippers would work, however it was downstairs where the best action happened, if you were a pro wrestling fan. Only accessible by 'downstairs' club members, the basement was a dark, cozy affair, with room for around 40 members. There was a small bar at the back of the room and a pro wrestling ring in the middle of the room.
Things started off slow, as they gradually introduced the wrestling shows. The lounge had always been a strip joint, so that element kept the dollars coming in. They put on some small invite only shows, hoping to build up a following through word of mouth. It worked, and within six months there were wrestling shows every night, with a waiting list for membership. They also built up a network of wrestlers of all sizes, ages and styles, who'd come and wrestle every week. Other wrestlers who were in town for a few days or weeks would come down and wrestle too. It was a great way to make some extra cash, especially if you caught the eye of wealthy member. SF was a destination for a lot of people escaping their shitty small towns/relationships/lives etc, who wanted a new start. If they could wrestle they could try out. Eddie and Ray really looked after all their wrestlers, particularly the younger ones, or the ones down on their luck. Helping them find places to stay or get jobs, or medical attention and provide them with wrestling gear. Younger wrestlers who didn't cut it in the ring were often employed as bar/waiting staff or busboys etc. The older wrestlers would often be employed as bouncers. Some wrestlers came and went, others stayed over 20 years, in various roles. Lifelong friendships were made, tag teams formed, relationships blossomed along with flings, rivalries, fall outs, affairs and jealousies.
Friday and Saturday nights were dedicated to sex wrestling, featuring more defined, clean cut looking types. The wrestling was real, but the sex/gimmick was the focus on these nights, with oil, rip and strip, mud wrestling etc. Sometimes the guys would just wrestle naked.
The 'proper' pro action happened on the other nights. There was usually 3 matches per night, with a sex round after each bout, where the winner fucked the loser. If the match was a draw then the audience would decide who topped who.
Mondays was always the newcomers night, where the younger wrestlers would face off. It was vital to do well here to try and bump yourself up the card, get yourself more matches in the coming weeks and months, and most importantly gain fans, who'd want to come and see you every time you wrestled.
Tuesdays was for the more established younger wrestlers, while Wednesdays was the night for the members who liked to watch a mix of older vs younger fights (bear vs cub was popular) and dad/son vs dad/son tag matches.
Thursdays and Sundays were the nights for the popular big boys and Lion Lounge championship title holders. These were the nights to see some really incredible singles and tag matches with the most popular men. Always a mix of tough technical matches and all out bloody brutal brawls. There would always be at least one chain match on a Sunday. V popular with the leather/S&M crowd.
Outside, the venue would have photos in display cases (taken in a small studio at the top of the building by Eddie) showing that weeks performers. On one side of the entrance would be the strippers, the other side would be the wrestlers.
The images here are of some of the wrestlers over the years.
#beefy muscle#pro wrestling#gay wrestling#vintage pro wrestling#wrestling singlet#beefy daddy#big beefy bears
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Events In The History And Of The Life Of Elvis Presley Today On The 12th Of November In 1972
Elvis Presley Tour And Show Comes To San Bernardino CA.
A look back at Elvis Presley's 1972 outstanding concert at swing auditorium in San Bernardino CA
Sunday night, Nov. 12, 1972. The Santa Ana winds were howling, so typical of San Bernardino in November. And it was cold. But a sold-out crowd stood patiently to have an audience with The Legend . Elvis Presley was in the Swing Auditorium.
The Swing was the place east of L.A.'s Fabulous Forum to see virtually every top name act in the rock world, circa 1964 through 1981. Located on E Street, the auditorium was built in 1949 on the grounds of the National Orange Show and was named for Senator Ralph E. Swing, a San Bernardino legislator. What a glorious barn it was and what history played out on that stage. The Rolling Stones did their first American concert there in June 1964. The place rocked until a small plane crashed into it on Sept. 11, 1981 and the auditorium had to be demolished. One of the last shows played there featured Iron Maiden.
In between, rock royalty were regulars. Fleetwood Mac played more than five times. The Byrds, Buffalo Springfield, Jefferson Airplane, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Cream, Jimi Hendrix Experience, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Black Sabbath, Ramones (as opening act), Chicago, Jethro Tull, Alice Cooper, the Grateful Dead (multiple times), Faces with Rod Stewart (also multiple times), Santana, the Kinks, Janis Joplin, Eric Clapton, the Beach Boys, and more. Look up how many of these acts are in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Just about everybody but the Beatles made it to the Swing.
Prior to the modern rock era, Bob Hope was almost an annual fixture at the Swing during the National Orange Show Fair. Other notables who performed there in the '50s and '60s included Sammy Davis Jr., Jack Benny, Judy Garland, Jerry Lewis, and George Burns. But never had a King played there before that night.
Yet, it wasn't as if Elvis Presley had never been to the IE. He did own a house for several of the Priscilla years in Palm Springs and was known to do some boating in Big Bear Lake. Many scenes of the totally forgettable remake movie 'Kid Galahad' were shot in Idyllwild. And, some of the outdoor footage in 1964's 'Kissin' Cousins' was shot in the San Bernardino Mountains. Still, this was different.
Elvis Presley's nationwide tour began at Madison Square Garden in New York, a city he had never before performed live in. The four concerts there were sold out and got rave reviews. At 37, he was 'lean, tanned and greasily handsome, his coal-black hair glistening with an oily 1950s sheen', as the New York Times' Grace Lichtenstein put it. At a press conference before the Madison Square Garden appearance, he was asked about the secret of his longevity on the pop music scene. 'I take Vitamin E', he told reporters.
From New York, the tour moved west, passing through cities like Milwaukee, Chicago, Wichita and Tulsa before continuing on to Las Vegas. Elvis stayed there for most of October before continuing the tour, which took him to Texas, Arizona, and into California. He hit Oakland, then San Bernardino, where he performed two sold-out shows - one on Nov. 12 and another on Nov. 13. rom there, he headed to the Long Beach Arena for two shows, the last stop before catching a plane for Honolulu where the tour would wrap up. Originally, the Honolulu show was planned to be broadcast worldwide by satellite, but the broadcast date was changed to early 1973 so it wouldn't conflict with the release of MGM's musical documentary Elvis on Tour. No matter. The show (actually four of them) went on. And in Honolulu, as well as in other cities on the tour, fans of all ages crowded concert venues to get a live view of the King.
So it was in San Bernardino. The Swing could hold about 10,000 people with a concert take of around $60,000. On that cold November night, fans crammed into the sold-out auditorium. With reserved seating, there was none of the festival seating chaos that marked the Swing rock shows - kids pushing and shoving and fighting to get to the stage area. This crowd was real diferent. I was way too young at 21. For the usual Swing rock show, most of the concertgoers were my age or younger. The guys had long hair, wore boots, Levis and denim work shirts (think the cover of a Creedence album.) The girls went braless, wore tight jeans or peasant dresses. There were always more guys than girls.
For Elvis Presley though, these fans had jobs, mortgages, and kids. The women clearly outnumbered the guys. They wore bright yellow or orange dresses, lots of makeup. Hairspray was huge. And, there were more than a few suicide blondes with hot pants and go-go boots. (I would never have sat on anything in the Swing in hot pants.) Jean Naté was locked in mortal combat with Charlie in a fragrance war. My Sin perfume held its own. Smoke from the bathrooms came from real Marlboro men (and women.)
My seat was in the cheap section - off to the side and high up, close to the glued-on tinsel that was a prominent feature of the Swing. The place always had a peculiar smell. Close to show time, greedy Colonel Tom's minions were at the stage hawking T-shirts, photos, and other assorted gee-gaws. I wonder just how much of that cash Elvis Presley received.
Finally, the lights lowered. The band started playing the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Then, there he was - The King. He was resplendent in a black and red concert suit.
Though his show was typical of his Vegas show that he performed at the International Hotel (later known as the Las Vegas Hilton and now called the Westgate Las Vegas Resort & Casino), it didn't matter to his loyal subjects. He was live in San Berdoo! Old ladies screamed. It was hard to tell from my cheap seat, but I believe there were a few panties thrown at him.
His voice and physique were in A-plus form. He ripped through concert standards such as 'Polk Salad Annie', crooned to crowd favorite 'Can't Help Falling In Love', and did a couple of religious numbers with the gospel group J.D. Sumner and The Stamps.
No Elvis Presley show would be complete without the hits 'Hound Dog', 'All Shook Up', 'Jailhouse Rock', and 'American Trilogy'.
His band and entourage - the Sweet Inspirations, legendary guitar hero James Burton - provided a full sound that could not be duplicated by the typical four-man rock act. It was a show truly becoming of a King. The crowd responded as if seeing him for the first time. Bedlam broke out among the thousands of fans.
After about 90 minutes, despite fans calling for more, Elvis Presley left the auditorium for the San Bernardino Hilton, about $60,000 richer. I was a poor college kid. I went to Del Taco. What a Sunday night! rare candid photo's one captured of elvis presley leaving Oakland CA captured here by a female ep fan boarding is executive chartered jet heading to San Bernardino CA and performing here at this show wearing the white pinwheel jumpsuit and the white cape and the lions head belt captured by a fan audience member who was at this show concert.
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Matt & Me🎀
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24
a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.
fem! reader x singer! matt
disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.
warnings - none i dont think
y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷
Chapter 4
It was already Christmas 1959, and I had no idea what to get Matt. I walked through the crowded streets of Wiesbaden, windowshopping, trying to get ideas. Picking out gifts for the family had always been easy, since we always knew exactly what was wanted or needed; in fact, we often made our gifts for one another. On this occasion my father gave me thirty-five dollars to spend on Matt, and it seemed a vast amount to me when I set out on this freezing cold day. I was slapped with the reality when I noticed a beautiful hand-made cigar box with porcelain outlining and a decorative design. Matt, a cigar smoker, would have loved it. But after the shopkeeper told me the price, 650 Deutsche marks or $155, all I walked out with was my expensive taste.
It was snowing heavily and I hurried into another shop, this one full of bright toys, including a solidly built toy German train that I could imagine Matt instantly setting up in his living room. But the train cost 2,000 Deutsche marks.
Heading home in the dark, on the verge of tears, I spotted a music store, where a pair of bongo drums inlaid with gleaming brass were displayed in the window. They were forty dollars, but the clerk took mercy on me and sold them for thirty-five. As I headed home I was beset by a thousand doubts, convinced that the drums were the least romantic of gifts.
I must have asked Nate Doe and David Jones twenty times if they thought the drums were appropriate. “Oh sure,” Nate said. “Anything you give him, he’ll like.” I still wasn’t convinced.
On the night we exchanged gifts, Matt emerged from his dad’s room and drew me to one corner of the living room, where he handed me a small wrapped box, in it, a delicate gold watch with a diamond set on the lid and a ring with a pearl bracketed by two diamonds.
I had never owned anything so beautiful, nor had any smile ever warmed me as Matt’s did then. “I’ll cherish these forever,” I told him, and he made me put them on right away and took me around to show everyone.
I waited as long as possible to give Matt my present. Laughing, he said, “Bongos! Just what I always wanted!” Matt could see that I didn’t believe him; he was better at giving than receiving. “Charlie,” he persisted, “didn’t I need some bongos?”
Motioning for me to sit next to him at the piano, he started playing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” with such emotion that I couldn’t look up for fear he’d see I was crying. When at last I couldn’t resist meeting his eyes, I saw that he too was holding back tears.
It was not until many days later that I discovered a whole closet full of bongo drums, mine not included, in the basement. The fact that my white elephants had not been throw into the closet but instead were prominently displayed beside his guitar made me love him all the more.
As the days passed I began to dread the day of Matt’s departure. By January he was already packing, and each night I spent with him became more precious than the one before.
Then, just as the weather turned freezing cold, Matt was sent out on field maneuvers for ten days, and if there was anything Matt hated, it was having to sleep outside on the frozen ground.
The morning after he left, it began to snow and by afternoon it was a blizzard. As Michelle and I were driving home from school with my mother, I turned on the radio, just in time to hear a late-breaking news bulletin.
“Sorry to interrupt, folks, but it was just reported that Corporal Matt Sturniolo has been rushed from field maneuvers to a hospital in Frankfurt, suffering from an acute attack of tonsillitis. Matt, if you’re listening, we all hope you get well real soon.”
Frantic with worry, I called the hospital, hoping to learn more about his condition. To my surprise, when the operator heard my name she put me right through, saying Corporal Sturniolo had left word to do so if I called.
“I’m a sick man, Little One,” Matt rasped. “I need you by my side. If it’s okay with your folks, I’ll send David for you right now.”
Of course my parents gave me permission to go to the hospital, and an hour later I entered his room, just as the nurse was leaving. Matt was propped up in bed with a thermometer in his mouth, surrounded by dozens of floral arrangements.
The moment the nurse was gone, Matt took the thermometer out of his mouth, lit a match, and carefully held it under the thermometer. Then he stuck the thermometer back in his mouth and slumped down on the bed just as the door opened and the nurse returned, carrying in even more flowers.
Smiling warmly to her famous patient, she took the thermometer out of Matt’s mouth, looked at it, and gasped, “A hundred and three. Why, Matt, you’re really sick. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here at least a week.”
Matt nodded mutely as the nurse fluffed up his pillows, filled his water glass, and left the room. Then he burst out laughing, jumped out of bed, and took me in his arms.
He despised maneuvers, and since the weather was so bad and everyone was so worried about his voice, his answer was tonsillitis. Already susceptible to catching colds, Matt learned to dramatize his sickness with a little flick of a match.
It was March 1, 1960, the night before Matt was to leave Germany to return to the States.
We were lying on his bed, our arms around each other. I was in a state of complete despair.
“Oh, Matt,” I said, “I just wish there were some way you could take me with you. I can’t stand the thought of life without you. I love you so much.”
I began sobbing, my anguish overcoming my control.
“Shhh, Baby,” Matt whispered. “Try to calm down. There’s nothing we can do.”
“I’m just afraid you’ll forget me the moment you land,” I cried.
He smiled and kissed me gently. “I’m not going to forget you, y/nn. I’ve never felt this way about another girl. I love you.”
“You do?” I was stunned. Matt had said that I was special before, but he’d never said that he loved me. I wanted so badly to believe him, but I was frightened of getting hurt. I’d read some of Nicole’s letters, and I was sure Matt was on his way back to her open arms.
Holding me close, he said, “I’m torn with the feelings I have for you. I don’t know what to do. Maybe being away will help me understand what I really feel.”
That night our lovemaking took on a new urgency. Would I ever see him again, be in his arms the way I had been nearly every night for the past six months? I missed him already. I could not bear the thought of the night ending and our saying goodbye for what I thought would be the last time. I wept and wept until my body ached with pain.
For the last time I begged him to finally have sex with me. It would have been so easy for him. I was young, vulnerable, desperately in love, and he could have taken complete advantage of me. But he quietly said, “No. Someday we will, y/n, but not now. You’re just too young.”
I lay awake all that night and early the next morning I was back at 18 Hauptstrasse, lost in the midst of a large group of people milling about the living room. They were waiting to say goodbye to Matt, who was upstairs finishing his last-minute packing. Knowing that I alone would be accompanying him to the airport gave me little comfort.
When Matt came downstairs, he laughed and joked with everyone there. Finally, after saying his last goodbye, Matt turned to me. “Okay, Little One, it’s time to go.”
I nodded glumly and followed him out the door. Oblivious to the drizzling rain, hundreds of fans were waiting outside. When they saw Matt they went crazy, begging him to sign autographs. When he finished he jumped into the waiting car and pulled me in behind him. As the door slammed, the driver accelerated and we sped toward the airport.
We rode for a long while in silence, both of us lost in thought. Matt was gazing out the window, frowning over the falling rain. “I know it’s not going to be easy for you to go back to being a schoolgirl again after being with me, y/nn, but you’ve got to. I don’t want you to be sitting around moping after I leave, Little One.”
I started to protest, but he silenced me. “Try to have a good time, write to me every chance you get. I’ll look forward to your letters. Get pink stationery. Address them to Nate. That way I’ll know they’re from you. I want you to promise me you’ll stay the way you are. Untouched, as I left you.”
“I will,” I promised.
“I’ll look for you from the top of the ramp. I don’t want to see a sad face. Give me a little smile. I’ll take that with me.”
Then, handing me his combat jacket and the sergeant’s stripes he’d recently been
awarded, he said, “I want you to have these. It shows you belong to me.” After that, he held me tight.
As we approached the airport, the cheers of the waiting crowds grew louder. We drove as close to the runway as possible, then Matt turned to me and said, “This is it, Baby.”
We got out as cameras flashed, reporters shouted, and screaming fans pressed toward us. Matt held my hand and walked across the runway apron until the guard, who was there to escort Matt to the plane, stopped me from going further.
Matt gave me a brief hug and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll call you when I get home, Baby, promise.”
I nodded, but before I could answer, we were pulled apart as the crowd rushed in. I was swept away by hundreds of fans, pushing and pulling, trying to get to him. I cried, “Matt!” but he never heard me.
He ran up the boarding steps. Then he turned and waved to the crowd, his eyes searching for me. I waved frantically, as did hundreds of other fans, yet he found me, and for one more brief moment, our eyes locked. Then he disappeared. Just like that.
My parents came to the airport to drive me back to Wiesbaden. During the long ride I was silent.
Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.
This material may be protected by copyright.
a/n - sad chapter 😪 (sorry its shorter than ones before)🎀
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#matt stuniolo fanfic#matthew sturn#matthew sturniolo#Spotify
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I flew the SR-71 Blackbird in the Cold War, here’s why it was so important
Hush KitSeptember 29, 2022
SR-71 In the Cold War
By BC Thomas
The SR-71 has the deserved reputation of being the most unique air-breathing aircraft ever built. No other could fly as fast, as high, or carry thousands of pounds of equipment above 80,000 feet. It was the primary strategic reconnaissance asset for the Free World during the latter 25 years of the Cold War. The SR-71 could sustain continuous Mach 3+ flight for over an hour while obtaining the highest quality reconnaissance information from multiple sensors, and with aerial refueling, the aircraft could have circumnavigated the Earth in one flight. The aircraft was one of the first to employ stealth technology, thereby ensuring that the airplane was almost invisible to radar. Its speed and altitude also cloaked its presence. During this time of sparse reconnaissance satellite coverage over potential enemy targets, the SR-71 could sneak up, gather vital information, and leave the area without warning, and often without notice.
The SR-71 was never successfully intercepted by surface-to-air missile or aircraft. It had a state-of-the-art electronic defensive system which would defeat an incoming missile’s homing and steering. Detectors on board would alert the crew of a missile launch instantly and, since the SR-71 did not normally fly at its maximum speed or altitude, the aircraft’s defense was simultaneously to jam the missile’s guidance while accelerating, climbing, and turning with 45º of bank. No surface-to-air missile could out-turn, thus hit, an SR-71, a fact demonstrated many times, especially during the Vietnam War. Attempts to shoot down an SR-71 continued until August 25, 1981, which was the last time an enemy (North Korea) fired a surface-to-air missile at an SR-71; that mission was flown by Maury Rosenberg, pilot, and Ed McKim, Reconnaissance Systems Officer (RSO).
It missed.
We carried an array of sophisticated sensors and recorders which could glean reconnaissance data with cameras capable of high-quality photographs horizon-to-horizon. We also had radar imagery capable of one-foot resolution. This was the Advanced Synthetic Aperture Radar System (ASARS), which could deliver readable radar pictures night or day, bad weather or clear. I’m no photo interpreter, but even I could tell what was pictured. The SR-71 also carried electronic intelligence (ELINT) systems which are still classified. We advertised that the SR-71, within 24 hours notification, could be over any target on earth and be capable of surveying 100,000 square miles of terrain each hour. It was no idle boast.
The SR-71’s potential versatility is not widely known. Clarence ‘Kelly’ Johnson, the genius designer of all ‘Blackbirds’, was diligent in assuring that the Mach 3+ Blackbird aircraft could fulfil several roles, if needed for national contingencies. The first version was the A-12 aircraft, built for the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). This was a single-person airplane and carried as principal sensor, one very high-resolution optical camera.
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A differently capable aircraft was the YF-12, the Mach 3+ fighter/intercepter version of the Blackbird’s basic design. It was developed as part of Kelly Johnson’s “Universal Aircraft” concept of adapting the fore-body section to accept reconnaissance equipment, air-to-air missiles, or four nuclear weapons. Thus, the Mach 3+ Blackbird type could have been straight reconnaissance, a nuclear bomber, an interceptor, or recon/strike. There is at least one video, available to the public, which shows an actual missile launch from a YF-12 at Mach 3. I’ll add parenthetically that it was also outfitted to be a Mach 3 drone-launch vehicle, but the first test deployment of the D-21 drone failed and resulted in the loss of the Blackbird M-21 launch aircraft.
So it was versatile. But did it deliver?
By the late 1950s, we knew the Soviet Union had better, more capable rocket launch systems than any North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) country. This was dramatically evidenced by two sudden leaps in Soviet advanced technology: 1957, Sputnik, the first artificial satellite; 1961, first man in space to orbit the Earth. These notable achievements shocked the people of the United States and indeed, the Western World.
Knowledge of the military and industrial strength of Communist states was extremely important, and reconnaissance missions against the Soviet Union started as early as 1947. Several American aircraft conducted these flights: the RB-29, RB-47, RB-50, C-130, PB4Y-2, U-2, and the Ryan 147 remotely piloted vehicle (RPV). Reconnaissance flights penetrated Soviet airspace, overflew the land mass, and many were shot down. The Los Angeles Times, 11/12/1992, reported that 40 such reconnaissance aircraft were lost and 200 American airmen died conducting these flights. That number of lost personnel was confirmed by Paul Glenshaw in his article: “Secret Causalities of the Cold War,” Smithsonian Air & Space Magazine, December 2017.
So aerial reconnaissance flights against potential enemies (the Soviet Union, China, North Korea, Cuba, the Middle East) were a top priority. These flights had to be conducted routinely and had to be survivable.
The SR-71 was developed to fill that need. From 1966 to 1990, the SR-71 flew over 3,500 operational reconnaissance missions while logging 11,000 hours in a flight environment which was most hostile: aircraft skin temperature averaged 620º F, outside air pressure was 0.4 pounds-per-square-inch (psi), altitude was 15-16 miles straight up, aerodynamic damping was low, and true airspeed was typically 2,000 to 2,100 miles-per-hour, making pitch controllability critical.
For operational survivability, the SR-71 was one of the safest military aircraft, as no Air Force crew member was killed while flying one, a testament to outstanding aircraft maintenance and crew training. A remarkable record given its extreme flight envelope and potential attack risk.
I’ll summarize the importance of the SR-71 missions by quoting Paul Crickmore, noted aviation historian and Blackbird author, in a letter to me.
“In theatre, the SR-71 proved the concept of high-Mach, high-altitude flight, to obtain vital aerial reconnaissance. The SR-71 regularly conducted reconnaissance missions in the skies over North Vietnam – particularly around Hanoi in 1968-70 which at the time, was the most highly defended area on the planet.”
“The Blackbirds provided superior flexibility compared to satellites, time after time, specific examples—Yom Kippur War 1973, Yemen 1979, Cuba 1977—1990, Lebanon October 1983 (following the truck-bomb attack killing over 240 US Marines), Libya 1986, The Persian Gulf 1987, but perhaps most importantly, the on-going monitoring of Soviet nuclear submarine fleets for the US Navy—particularly the Northern Fleet with their submarine-launched ballistic missiles (SLBMs), capable of hitting large areas of the United States, as well as all Allied Countries.”
“The simultaneous, synoptic coverage of information gathered by the SR-71’s sensors, provided the intelligence community and national leadership—with photographic imagery (PHOTINT), radar imagery (RADINT) and electronic intelligence (ELNT), that unquestionably helped to keep the Western World free.”
Richard H Graham, Colonel, USAF (ret) was an SR-71 Instructor Pilot, Squadron Commander, 9th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing Commander, and assigned to the Headquarters USAF (Pentagon) to supervise Programs and Resources as a Strategic Force Programmer. His evaluation of the SR-71’s worth as a reconnaissance asset is quoted from his book: “SR-71 The Complete Illustrated History of the Blackbird, The World’s Highest, Fastest Plane.”
“…the synoptic coverage (displaying conditions as they exist simultaneously over a broad area) provided by the SR-71 was far superior to satellite reconnaissance. Broad-area coverage from different approach angles, in a relatively short time span, produced considerably better intelligence than a predictable, single satellite pass, every ninety minutes. In 1990, the SR-71 was the only airborne reconnaissance platform that could penetrate hostile territory, accomplish wide-area synoptic coverage, and still survive. It could also be tasked reasonably quickly and had the element of surprise.”
Photographs of two SA-2 surface-to-air missiles which were launched against SR-71 #976, July 26, 1968 in the vicinity of Hanoi, Vietnam. Tony Bevacqua (Pilot), Jerry Crew (RSO).
Order the Hush-Kit Book of Warplanes here
@hush_kit via X
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The Orbitron
The Orbitron is a custom car built by Ed Roth and feared lost until its rediscovery in Mexico in 2007
A second generation to Roth's original Beatnik Bandit, which was built in 1960, the Beatnik Bandit II features a one-of-a-kind fiberglass body with PPG lemon meringue pie paint, stylized Rat Fink designs on the sides, and chrome by Metal Masters of Salt Lake City, UT.
Beatnik Bandit II includes many unique design features, including an electronic console which operates the digital instrument panel and other features such as a digital readout of the car's latitude and longitude.
The lack of a rearview mirror is not a problem on this car. A "TV mirror" video monitor is mounted on the console with the actual camera mounted in the rear panel. The bubble top is also lifted electronically.
Beatnik Bandit II was built entirely by Roth, who credits "Revelations from Father in Heaven" for his achievement. The car has been shown in major U. S. cities, including Boston, Los Angeles, Chicago and Houston, as well as in Yokohama, Japan.
The Beatnik Bandit
Ed 'Big Daddy' Roth was an artist, cartoonist, illustrator, pinstriper and custom car designer and builder who created the hot-rod icon Rat Fink and other characters. Roth was a key figure in Southern California's Kustom Kulture and hot-rod movement of the late 1950s and 1960s The Beatnik Bandit was one of his first creations from the early 1960s. It was built from a 1949 Oldsmobile, the chassis was shortened 5 feet, the Olds engine was given the classic hotrod look with GMC blower and twin carbys, everything was chromed except the blower belt. The white interior featured single joystick, that operated turning, throttle and braking. The bubble top was created using compressed air to inflate a sheet of plastic into a dome in a pizza oven. On display at the National Automobile Museum in Reno
Mysterion
Ed Roth built the Mysterion in 1963, he got the idea from the multi engine dragsters he had seen at the dragstrips. He combined two Ford engines, two transmissions, plus two welded rear ends for the foundation. It featured an offset headlight and the typical Ed Roth bubble top. On display at Galpin Auto Sports.
The Road Agent by Ed “Big Daddy” Roth.
Mysterion
Custom builder and artist Ed "Big Daddy" Roth completed the Mysterion in 1963. The bubbletopped custom featured a completely original fiberglass body and twin Ford big-block engines. The weight of the engines was too much for the frame to bear, and the Mysterion fell apart. Tribute versions have been built, including this precise replica from Galpin Auto Sports.
The Surfink
The Surfink, created by Mark Glaz as a tribute to Ed Roth and Ratfink, features a large Ratfink figure atop a surfboard complete with a blown V-8 engine.
The Orbitron
Built in 1964, the vehicle was powered by a 1955 or 1956 Chevrolet V8 and was backed by a Powerglide automatic transmission. The body was hand-laid fiberglass, hiding Roth's extensive chrome work to the chassis. The cockpit, set at the extreme rear of the vehicle in the manner of a dragster, was lined with fake fur and featured an 11-inch General Electric "1-Touch" portable television inserted in the console. Topping the cockpit was a custom-made, hydraulically operated Plexiglas bubble top. One of a series of ordinary doorbell push-button switches atop the hood activated the top from the outside.
Other mechanical features included a 1956 Chevrolet rear end, dropped Ford front axle beam, Buickbrake drums and early Ford brakes. The frame was handmade of rectangular 2x4 inch steel tubing. The engine was a leftover from one of Roth's 1955 Chevrolets, having been removed to make way for a then-new Mark IV big-block given to him by General Motors. It was one of the very few completed cars Roth deemed to be a "mistake" because he felt the car did not show well since the heavily chromed engine and most of the chassis were hidden. The Orbitron was, in fact, one of his few customs to have a hood. Reportedly, the hydraulically operated hood did not fit well due to rushed fiberglass work.
The vehicle's most distinctive feature was its asymmetrical front end with red, green and blue tinted headlamps. It was thought that the three beams when combined would produce an intense white light; the idea came from the then-new medium of color television.
By Jerry Thompson - originally posted to Flickr as 2C7O4069, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5973582
By Jerry Thompson - originally posted to Flickr as 2C7O4066, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5973591
The Baja Bandeeto
Custom car builder and renowned painter Fritz ‘Spritz By Fritz‘ Schenck recreated with his bubble top roadster; the Baja Bandeeto.
#The Orbitron#car#cars#Beatnik Bandit II#ed roth#rat fink#The Beatnik Bandit#Beatnik Bandit#Ed 'Big Daddy' Roth#big daddy roth#big daddy#mysterion#The Road Agent#The Surfink#Surfink#The Baja Bandeeto#Fritz Schenck
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Eagles - Revisited
(a train journey across Canada in the months before the pandemic)
For Maria
“I reckon they’re eagles!” That’s Tim. He’s excited. The dining car is full of people and it’s loud. For some reason, if you put a lot of humans into a confined space they will yell at each other. Around our table there’s Tim, he’s a retired London detective, there’s a teacher from Newfoundland, an Australian and me. We’re somewhere in the Rockies of Canada and Tim thinks he sees eagles. Tim also thinks I ‘know things’, so I’m not totally convinced about the eagles.
“Where?” That’s the Australian. Her accent is a brutal drawl, like the sawing of a blunt serrated knife across the back of the hand.
“There! They’re big birds.” He’s pointing, very excited now.
I can’t see anything but I decide I need to contribute something anyway, “But are they real?”
Retired London detectives don’t much care for nonsense.
“Of course they are!” Tim snaps back at me.
Perhaps coming to my defence, the Australian decides to take him down.
“They’re not eagles … I reckon they’re crows.”
Tim’s hurt “They are!” The level of his indignation easily exceeds the pointlessness of the conversation and so the farce begins.
I tune out. A mind is a wonderful place if you can tame it … but good luck with that.
Suddenly I’m brought back – “He ‘knows things’ you know.” Tim’s making a public declaration and all eyes are on me.
“Whadda ya mean?” The Australian is sceptical.
“He ‘knows things’ I tell you!” Tim is my biggest supporter.
“Like what?” The Australian picks up the scent.
Now Tim has to prove I ‘know things’ … I hope it doesn’t go to a Senate Committee.
“Well, he knew how old I was.”
It’s true. Tim had asked me, “How old do you think I am?”
I didn’t hesitate - “71.” My immediate reply stunned him.
“How did you know that?”
“I just do.”
Magicians don’t show their audience the secrets of their tricks, do they? But okay, in a previous conversation Tim had told me the year he’d joined the ‘force’ and I had then enquired about his age on joining … mathematics is also a wonderful thing.
But the Australian isn’t going to accept this flimsy story as evidence of my “knowing things”. She wants more proof. I expected that. Their entire culture was built on a challenge to authority. So perhaps I do ‘know things’ after all.
“Okay, whadda ‘bout this?” the Australian begins. Now it’s the big test for me. I’m feeling fit, I’ve been in training for months and my fighting weight is perfect.
The Australian continues “We were at a talk last night, in the observation car, about agriculture in Alberta.”
Tim nods “It was good.” I love his optimism.
“You weren’t there were you?” The Australian would have done well during the McCarthy era communist ‘witch hunts’ of the 1950’s.
“No.” I almost laugh. Of course not, I was someplace else on the train, enjoying my somewhat tamed mind.
“Okay then, tell us … how much do you think a combined harvester costs?”
I don’t hesitate “Between $400,000 and $500,000.”
The look of disappointment on the Australian’s face is kind of funny. Tim, on the other hand, is gleeful to be proven right after suffering such a bad loss over the eagles.
“See, I told you!”
The Australian narrows her eyes. She smells a rat. “You were there weren’t you?”
“He wasn’t!” That’s Tim, he’s still my biggest supporter.
“No, I wasn’t there.” I confirm.
“Tell him!” Tim is going in for the kill.
“$450,000 ...” Her voice trails off. The Australian doesn’t like being wrong.
So the wonders appear to continue but there’s no mystery here either. I live in a rural community and I have an inquisitive mind. One day I had asked myself “I wonder what a combined harvester costs?” You’ve probably asked yourself the same question at one time or another.
For the rest of the journey I wear the aura of a man who ‘knows things’. It’s an enigmatic position to take in life. In part, you are ‘messiah’. You walk the corridors of the train surrounded by a spectral glow, robes flowing, your hands outstretched offering benedictions and people whisper “he ‘knows things’ you know.” On the other hand, being ‘messianic’ is a lonely business but I don’t mind, I have my somewhat tamed mind for company.
Of course I made the ‘messiah’ bit up. I have a wish that life could be just a little more absurd than it already is. In truth, only Tim thinks I know things. The Australian thinks she’s been tricked and everyone else on the train couldn’t care less, which is how I like it.
Later … days later our train pulls into Toronto. My hotel is only 100 metres from the station so I linger in the compartment, packing, dreaming.
When I finally get to the baggage carousel I’m surprised to see Tim. He has his back to me. There is a younger man with him and they have the body language of two people who know each other well. Both are English and it’s obvious the younger guy was also on the train, judging by the baggage labels on his luggage. But this is the first time I’ve seen them together, which I find strange.
Then Tim reacts. I presume the hairs on the back of his neck have suddenly stood on end because he turns. Maybe that’s how he became a detective in the first place – he has good instincts.
Tim recognizes me and completely fails to disguise the look of alarm in his eyes.
There’s something about the younger man … and then comes that feeling, like the fitting of the final piece in a jigsaw, and I understand.
We all have things we feel we need to hide. Mostly the world isn’t looking but if you happen to end up on a train with someone who ‘knows things’, it’s very hard to escape the truth … some people just ‘know things’.
Tim hurriedly looks away.
I’m sorry to have unsettled him and all I really want to say now is “Tim, eagles are real”.
- One Kindred Spirit
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ChatGPT and the movie ‘Her’ are just the latest example of the ‘sci-fi feedback loop’
by Rizwan Virk, Faculty Associate and PhD Candidate in Human and Social Dimensions of Science and Technology at Arizona State University
In May 2024, OpenAI CEO Sam Altman sparked a firestorm by referencing the 2013 movie “Her” to highlight the novelty of the latest iteration of ChatGPT.
Within days, actor Scarlett Johansson, who played the voice of Samantha, the AI girlfriend of the protagonist in the movie “Her,” accused the company of improperly using her voice after she had spurned their offer to make her the voice of ChatGPT’s new virtual assistant. Johansson ended up suing OpenAI and has been invited to testify before Congress.
This tiff highlights a broader interchange between Hollywood and Silicon Valley that’s called the “sci-fi feedback loop.” The subject of my doctoral research, the sci-fi feedback loop explores how science fiction and technological innovation feed off each other. This dynamic is bidirectional and can sometimes play out over many decades, resulting in an ongoing loop.
Fiction sparks dreams of Moon travel
One of the most famous examples of this loop is Moon travel.
Jules Verne’s 1865 novel “From the Earth to the Moon” and the fiction of H.G. Wells inspired one of the first films to visualize such a journey, 1902’s “A Trip to the Moon.”
The fiction of Verne and Wells also influenced future rocket scientists such as Robert Goddard, Hermann Oberth and Oberth’s better-known protégé, Wernher von Braun. The innovations of these men – including the V-2 rocket built by von Braun during World War II – inspired works of science fiction, such as the 1950 film “Destination Moon,” which included a rocket that looked just like the V-2.
Films like “Destination Moon” would then go on to bolster public support for lavish government spending on the space program.
youtube
Creative symbiosis
The sci-fi feedback loop generally follows the same cycle.
First, the technological climate of a given era will shape that period’s science fiction. For example, the personal computing revolution of the 1970s and 1980s directly inspired the works of cyberpunk writers Neal Stephenson and William Gibson.
Then the sci-fi that emerges will go on to inspire real-world technological innovation. In his 1992 classic “Snow Crash,” Stephenson coined the term “metaverse” to describe a 3-D, video game-like world accessed through virtual reality goggles.
Silicon Valley entrepreneurs and innovators have been trying to build a version of this metaverse ever since. The virtual world of the video game Second Life, released in 2003, took a stab at this: Players lived in virtual homes, went to virtual dance clubs and virtual concerts with virtual girlfriends and boyfriends, and were even paid virtual dollars for showing up at virtual jobs.
This technology seeded yet more fiction; in my research, I discovered that sci-fi novelist Ernest Cline had spent a lot of time playing Second Life, and it inspired the metaverse of his bestselling novel “Ready Player One.”
The cycle continued: Employees of Oculus VR – now known as Meta Reality Labs – were given copies of “Ready Player One” to read as they developed the company’s virtual reality headsets. When Facebook changed its name to Meta in 2021, it did so in the hopes of being at the forefront of building the metaverse, though the company’s grand ambitions have tempered somewhat.
Another sci-fi franchise that has its fingerprints all over this loop is “Star Trek,” which first aired in 1966, right in the middle of the space race.
Steve Perlman, the inventor of Apple’s QuickTime media format and player, said he was inspired by an episode of “Star Trek: The Next Generation,” in which Lt. Commander Data, an android, sifts through multiple streams of audio and video files. And Rob Haitani, the designer of the Palm Pilot’s operating system, has said that the bridge on the Enterprise influenced its interface.
In my research, I also discovered that the show’s Holodeck – a room that could simulate any environment – influenced both the name and the development of Microsoft’s HoloLens augmented reality glasses.
From ALICE to ‘Her’
Which brings us back to OpenAI and “Her.”
In the movie, the protagonist, Theodore, played by Joaquin Phoenix, acquires an AI assistant, “Samantha,” voiced by Johansson. He begins to develop feelings for Samantha – so much so that he starts to consider her his girlfriend.
ChatGPT-4o, the latest version of the generative AI software, seems to be able to cultivate a similar relationship between user and machine. Not only can ChatGPT-4o speak to you and “understand” you, but it can also do so sympathetically, as a romantic partner would.
There’s little doubt that the depiction of AI in “Her” influenced OpenAI’s developers. In addition to Altman’s tweet, the company’s promotional videos for ChatGPT-4o feature a chatbot speaking with a job candidate before his interview, propping him up and encouraging him – as, well, an AI girlfriend would. The AI featured in the clips, Ars Technica observed, was “disarmingly lifelike,” and willing “to laugh at your jokes and your dumb hat.”
But you might be surprised to learn that a previous generation of chatbots inspired Spike Jonze, the director and screenwriter of “Her,” to write the screenplay in the first place. Nearly a decade before the film’s release, Jonze had interacted with a version of the ALICE chatbot, which was one of the first chatbots to have a defined personality – in ALICE’s case, that of a young woman.
The ALICE chatbot won the Loebner Prize three times, which was awarded annually until 2019 to the AI software that came closest to passing the Turing Test, long seen as a threshold for determining whether artificial intelligence has become indistinguishable from human intelligence.
The sci-fi feedback loop has no expiration date. AI’s ability to form relationships with humans is a theme that continues to be explored in fiction and real life.
A few years after “Her,” “Blade Runner 2049” featured a virtual girlfriend, Joi, with a holographic body. Well before the latest drama with OpenAI, companies had started developing and pitching virtual girlfriends, a process that will no doubt continue. As science fiction writer and social media critic Cory Doctorow wrote in 2017, “Science fiction does something better than predict the future: It influences it.”
#science fiction#sci fi movies#artificial intelligence#metaverse#isaac asimov#arthur c clarke#hg wells#open ai#technology#technopolitics#blade runner#blade runner 2049#Youtube
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okay someone needs to fucking explain Fallout worldbuilding to me
OKAY SO
I'm a writer and my friends and I get maybe a little obsessed with worldbuilding. Like, famously had a three hour heated argument over theoretical Chinese empirical expansion, obsessed. So I tend to think a lot about worldbuilding when I interact with fiction.
I never played the Fallout games as a kid, I know, sue me, but there was cultural osmosis cause I'm still a video game nerd who hangs out with other video game nerds. So I understood that Fallout takes place in a post-nuclear-MAD world with a 50's aesthetic. You get some scifi elements but it's all that old "classic" scifi stuff like robot butlers.
I assumed, therefore, that the Fallout series takes place in an alternate universe where the Cold War went hot. At the most, maybe it was, like 1975? And the people who designed the Vault stuff were just Old and liked The Good Old Days.
So I was watching the new TV show with my husband when he says, casually, that in Fallout, the nuclear apocalypse happened in 2070.
2070!?!?!?!?!?!?????????
According to the Fallout universe, technology just ... went in a different direction after the Space Race, with little to no improvement in communications (so no cable TV or fax machines or internet) but had other big developments, like putting a colony on the Moon, and a lot of biomedical research, and robots with varying levels of AI.
This is absolutely bonkers.
But imo what's worse is the idea that culture either completely stagnated for over a century, or we hit a period of regression/nostalgia so hard it was virtually indistinguishable from that earlier time.
I'm sorry, but Fallout writers, what the actual fuck?!?
Let me list some of the immediately problems I see with this:
If you're saying all the scientists on earth focused entirely on robotics and medical technology, that STILL. DOES NOT. COVER. 120 YEARS. OF DEVELOPMENT. Especially in a modern fictional context!!!
Technological advancements drive cultural change, which drives technology. Even if we didn't get smartphones, there were changes, and even the most heavily nostalgic conservatives are not going to be the same now as they were 120 years ago. They might be worse, but still, they're going to be different.
Not to mention the culture that built the Vaults is one that's been living in a state of perpetual Cold War for multiple generations. They may be nostalgic for post-WWII picket fences, but that wistfulness is going to feel incredibly different than the relentless optimism that's at the core of the 1950's aesthetic.
This is also absolutely the wrong time period to pick if you're arbitrarily going to decide modern communication methods were never invented. The Cold War was a critical factor in the need for improved security of classified communication, as well as the quality and accessibility of propaganda. IMO a USA that never left the Cold War would have building-sized TV screen billboard ads before the personal home computer.
(funny enough the boom for chemical and biochemical science was already over at this point. There's a saying that WWI was the Chemists' War, and WWII was the Physicists' War, and that's very reflective of where innovators were looking, where funding was going, and thus, what technologies were being developed.)
The weirdest thing about all of this to me is that this is so atypical of all the genres Fallout is leaning on. The 1940's scifi aesthetic at the core of this concept is optimistic exactly because it came before the existential dread of the Cold War; it was that dread, in part, that punctured the post-war dream. Steampunk settings sometimes leap forward a century or two without technological advancement, but the cultural setting of Victorian England is very different and it's plausible that if ideas of the era like "aether" had been proven true, technology would have developed very differently. Then newer genres like Cyberpunk, the ones that came during and after the Cold War, almost always demonstrate how cultures have influenced each other, because the authors of the developing scifi genre had started to realize the future would be shaped by more than just ray guns and spaceships.
So yeah, it absolutely boggles my mind that this is a choice the Fallout writers made and have stuck to faithfully.
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I was at a friend’s house tonight and I said to them right before I left that the most frustrating and difficult part of this is that like all I can do to help her is exactly what I was already going to do: love her, support her, show up to the shows and sing my ass off.
And it’s frustrating and difficult because this isn’t like other breakups. We, the fandom, have never gone through a breakup like this with Taylor because she’s never had a breakup like this one.
This relationship lasted 5 years and some change longer than her previous “longest relationship” Even if you count Harry and Jake’s on-again-off-again, this outlasts them by years. We’ve never had this long to get attached to a boyfriend and we’ve never had this long to get comfortable with the idea of a future. We’ve never had this many songs about the love between them before the breakup. In fact, we’ve only ever had like 1 (Superstar, Come Back Be Here are the only ones that immediately spring to mind).
So yeah, we’re all feeling a little unhinged right now and posts like “Taylor has had other breakups!” are not helpful in the least. Neither are posts that emphasize that we don’t know Taylor. We don’t know what Taylor’s feeling, sure, but we also have to process this.
I hate the term “parasocial relationship” because when the internet learned it, they lost their goddamn minds. We’ve had the term since the 1950′s and the actual phenomenon has existed as long as art has been shared. We connect with one another and we share our lives and existences and we become emotionally attached and comfortable with someone else’s life. As long as Taylor’s art connects to her life (and it always will), we will always develop those emotional attachments and connections.
This is not to say that we are going through a breakup with Joe in the same way Taylor is, but we are going through a breakup with Joe. The difference between her and us is that we have no information. And we’re not entitled to that information either. We’re all trying to figure out how to make sense of the past 6 years of music and love and life the best we can and figure out what to do with this connection we’ve built with Joe moving forward. It does none of us any good to shame each other for processing differently. It also does none of us any good to pretend like we have a precedent for this. We’re all operating blind. And we’ll all change our minds and opinions and feelings so many times as we go on... And that’s okay. This relationship ended for them, but it also ended for us. And that shouldn’t be taboo to recognize. We have to give ourselves grace to feel whatever we feel... And just try to hug each other through it.
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Bugibba and Young (1983)
[This is part of a much larger script on the history of Bugibba] [This will also be a lot longer than my previous post, I apologize]
Bugibba is one of the largest resort towns in the entirety of Malta and has been that way for the past 80 years, since its initial boom in the 1960's. It, however, has little history and heritage to speak of which is why information on it is so hard to find. That's why Chapman & Speake's amazing 2011 paper is such an invaluable asset and its also how I found Young's 1983 paper which this post will focus on. This post, compared to the one I made yesterday, is slightly more analysis based rather than a retelling of some interesting history.
But why Young (1983)? As Chapman & Speake mention: “Prior to the 1950s, Bugibba and its neighbouring settlements such as Qawra and St. Paul’s Bay were small fishing and farming based communities” (2011: 483). This makes Young’s paper really interesting in the context of its focus and Bugibba’s former status as a fishing town (which it had been for decades [e.g Chircop 2010], if not centuries [e.g Abell 2007: 125]). It describes 6 stages of development, which will be projected onto Bugibba below.
i. The early traditional stage is pretty much still the traditional fishing-farming village, with the only tourists who come there being those who come to visit relatives (p.38). This is most likely the state in which the 1899-1907 survey of Malta was done, by the British Royal School of Military Engineering (NAM 1899-1907). This map shows a significant lack of an established city with only a few (presumably) houses by the shore (fishermen or farmers, most probably).
ii. The late traditional stage is similar to the previous stage, however some infrastructure has been built for tourism; not necessarily hotels/accommodation, but rather summer homes which the wealthy use on their time off. Possibly, the city may even get a police station, indicating that the government knows the potential of a future resort town (p.36, 38). This is similar to what Chapman & Speake said themselves (p.486), about what Bugibba was like pre-1950 tourist boom.
iii. The initial tourism stage is when people start to come to the village, although tourism in and of itself hasn’t really started. They respect the local culture, seeing as some of them are poets/wealthy and themselves dabble in culture, and they stay mostly separated. The villagers live on as if the tourists aren’t really there, or as Young states, “‘apathetic’” (p.38). NAM (1928), a motion to start an archaeological investigation into Bugibba, could reasonably be used to plot time. It wouldn't be unreasonable to state that amongst the poets and wealthy coming to Bugibba, might be some archaeologists. This plots pretty accurately on the rest of the accounts of Bugibba's development.
iv. The early tourism stage describes when a fishing town, like Bugibba, has finally been acknowledged for its potential. This brings with constructions of tourism complexes, commercial enterprises (shops that aren’t for village living essentials as in stage i-iii) and more. The village is being encroached upon by the tourist infrastructure, possibly even by Maltese with good money[fn1]. “Natives”, accepting the inevitable, mingle with tourists and trade food, products and newspapers and additionally, some who have the qualifications to, help the tourists out with their medical issues.
v. The expanding tourism stage signifies a point in which the village has been designated (usually by the government) to be a tourist attraction and now infrastructure to accommodate tourism is built. This also includes stuff like a new school or bus lines, which also incidentally help out the locals. One of the defining infrastructural developments is the building of a “major luxury hotel” [p.38]. New shops and attractions will open up and, whilst the older village locals might worry, the newer village locals embrace the new attention the village’s getting. This would be Bugibba leading into the 1950’s and it is from here that the development which Chapman & Speake go over.
vi. The intensive tourism stage of tourist development is the final one and it is what can be observed in the early days of Bugibba's tourist boom. The town has been ransacked by private companies looking to get their own piece of the tourism pie, new self-catering apartments, hotels and villas for tourists from all over the world to visit. The urban development of the town has gone into full swing and "the only traces remaining of the Early Traditional Stage" [p.40] are the few monuments and fishing huts which people deem as the town's heritage. This is true too in Bugibba, as little if anything from this period remains intact.
Almost 4 decades ahead of his time, Young commented on the model he created, asking: “How may the villscape change after Stage 6? Will it, in time, lose some of its appeal as a tourist destination?” [p.41]. This is what Chapman & Speake spend a majority of their time discussing, asking an eerily similar question at the end of their paper: “If Bugibba’s future is not as a resort, then questions concerning its form, function and identity need to be asked” [p.490]. Thanks for reading if you did and below are the references. This was really fun to put together.
Footnotes: 1. E.g, it could be that Calleja Giuseppe (NAM, 1920), who was going to America, possibly in Detroit for work (Sanko, 2018: 113), came back with good money and helped with the building of new tourist infrastructure
References: Abell, N. (2007). The Role of Malta in Prehistoric Mediterranean Exchange Networks. Chapman, A. & Speake, J. (2011). Regeneration in a mass-tourism resort: The changing fortunes of Bugibba, Malta Chircop, J. (2010). Living on Fishing, Caught in the Market: The Maltese fishing communities, 1860s-1920. Sanko, M. A. (2018). Britishers in Two Worlds: Maltese Immigrants in Detroit and Toronto, 1919-1960. Young, B. (1983). Touristization of traditional Maltese fishing-farming villages.
Archival Sources: National Archives of Malta. (1899-1907). Item 50070 - Survey of Malta - Bugibba Area. National Archives of Malta. (1920). Item 4433 - Passport Application of Calleja Giovanni. National Archives of Malta. (1928). Item 0309/1928 - Reports that remains of a megalithic building exist in the land "Ta Bulebel" at Bugibba, and recommends that the site be valued and examined by the Public Works Department. D of M.
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San Francisco 1960-1985. Part 3 - The Monday night boys.
The Lion Lounge was the worlds longest running all male strip club. It was in SF, open seven days a week, and between 1960 and 1985 was owned and run by partners Eddie Jones and Raymond O'Hare.
Eddie and Ray were huge pro wrestling nerds and actually met at a pro show in 1950, so when they bought the Lion Lounge they knew they wanted to feature live underground pro wrestling shows. There was an underserved market of pro fans who preferred their wrestling more 'intimate', and they planned to serve it. And then some.
In the main bar upstairs is where the strippers would work, however it was downstairs where the best action happened, if you were a pro wrestling fan. Only accessible by 'downstairs' club members, the basement was a dark, cozy affair, with room for around 40 members. There was a small bar at the back of the room and a pro wrestling ring in the middle of the room.
Things started off slow, as they gradually introduced the wrestling shows. The lounge had always been a strip joint, so that element kept the dollars coming in. They put on some small invite only shows, hoping to build up a following through word of mouth. It worked, and within six months there were wrestling shows every night, with a waiting list for membership. They also built up a network of wrestlers of all sizes, ages and styles, who'd come and wrestle every week. Other wrestlers who were in town for a few days or weeks would come down and wrestle too. It was a great way to make some extra cash, especially if you caught the eye of wealthy member. SF was a destination for a lot of people escaping their shitty small towns/relationships/lives etc, who wanted a new start. If they could wrestle they could try out. Eddie and Ray really looked after all their wrestlers, particularly the younger ones, or the ones down on their luck. Helping them find places to stay or get jobs, or medical attention and provide them with wrestling gear. Younger wrestlers who didn't cut it in the ring were often employed as bar/waiting staff or busboys etc. The older wrestlers would often be employed as bouncers. Some wrestlers came and went, others stayed over 20 years, in various roles. Lifelong friendships were made, tag teams formed, relationships blossomed along with flings, rivalries, fall outs, affairs and jealousies.
Friday and Saturday nights were dedicated to sex wrestling, featuring more defined, clean cut looking types. The wrestling was real, but the sex/gimmick was the focus on these nights, with oil, rip and strip, mud wrestling etc. Sometimes the guys would just wrestle naked.
The 'proper' pro action happened on the other nights. There was usually 3 matches per night, with a sex round after each bout, where the winner fucked the loser. If the match was a draw then the audience would decide who topped who.
Mondays was always the newcomers night, where the younger wrestlers would face off. It was vital to do well here to try and bump yourself up the card, get yourself more matches in the coming weeks and months, and most importantly gain fans, who'd want to come and see you every time you wrestled.
Tuesdays was for the more established younger wrestlers, while Wednesdays was the night for the members who liked to watch a mix of older vs younger fights (bear vs cub was popular) and dad/son vs dad/son tag matches.
Thursdays and Sundays were the nights for the popular big boys and Lion Lounge championship title holders. These were the nights to see some really incredible singles and tag matches with the most popular men. Always a mix of tough technical matches and all out bloody brutal brawls. There would always be at least one chain match on a Sunday. V popular with the leather/S&M crowd.
Outside, the venue would have photos in display cases (taken in a small studio at the top of the building by Eddie) showing that weeks performers. On one side of the entrance would be the strippers, the other side would be the wrestlers.
The images here are of some of the wrestlers over the years.
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But What Does It Mean?
(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve's Tumblr, and Pillowfort. Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)
Recently a friend found an AI generated fake trailer for a kind of 1950s-1960’s live Sailor Moon. This, it turned out wasn’t the only fake-retro live Sailor Moon trailer generated by AI. Somehow I feel the infamous failed Saban Sailor Moon has driven people to imagine such things differently (forgetting the rather well done live Sailor Moon from Japan).
Now I find these things amusing, but there was a strange emptiness about them. What, I wondered, was the point? I can imagine these things in my own head, and in fact have - once in the form of a late night discussion of Lucille Ball playing Sailor Moon (I was assuredly sober). Do I need someone to use tetchy AI to illustrate something?
As I contemplated the weird meaninglessness of these things, a friend who’s a talented cosplayer note that there was no point to such creations. What would have been truly amazing would not have been someone tossing prompts to an electricity-devouring toy, but to have rallied cosplayers and shot it live. Suddenly I got why so much of this AI art feels meaningless.
Let us imagine that some cosplayers had gathered to create a Sailor Moon trailer true to the spirit of the 50’s or 60s. They would have done research and studied costume design. They would have sewn, crafted, created, re-created, and perfected their work. Those doing the filming would have figured the angles of the time and how to get the color just right. Voiceovers would have been chosen to fit the period, perhaps finding veteran actors or new talent.
The creation of a few minutes of trailer would have involved people making, learning, researching, bonding. They would have made friendships that lasted a lifetime, spoken at cons, and taken their skills elsewhere. Someone may have used such a creation as a senior thesis, others in a portfolio. One small bit of fun would have impacted many people, echoing through their lives.
Or you can throw things into an AI. Sure there’s some talent in tweaking the prompts, calling the best shots, and so on. The editing of such things definitely requires skill. But so much of it is disconnected or not as connected as it should be. I won’t deny that a person with AI uses talent and inspiration to create a larger creation, but it lacks that big, meaningful picture of an effort without AI.
An artistic creation is a lot more than the time you watch it on screen.
What AI turns out is results with little human connection, history, inspiration, or meaning. It makes “product” in the most empty use of the term - something designed to appeal to someone’s interests, something to sell, a result not a thing with history and meaning. We’ve taken an interesting tool and now people pitch it as a substitute for being human.
This is another reason I’m skeptical on AI creations beyond some more personal and specific uses. Where’s the human connection? The team that learned from making a show? The author you love and get angry at in equal measure? The voice actors to fan over? The choices only a person could make - even if they’re the bad choices of an actual human? Where’s what comes next, with lessons learned and ideas built on?
It’s not there. Just a machine turning out stuff in the rough shape of what we asked. It doesn’t mean anything.
Steven Savage
www.StevenSavage.com
www.InformoTron.com
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The Scottish actor Alex McAvoy died on June 16th 2005.
Most famous for two roles, Sunny Jim in the original Para Handy tales of The Vital Spark, through the 60’s and the teacher in Pink Floyds, The Wall, McAvoy was much more than a two horse trick! the two roles you might know him from.
Throughout his career he was a stalwart of Scottish theatre, especially pantos, starring at the top theatres in Edinburgh and Glasgow. He was also a master of mime.
In the earlier part of his career, McAvoy ventured into the world of variety and light entertainment, and was the first foil to the kilted Scottish comedy singer Andy Stewart.
The summer show promoter George B Bowie envisaged him as a future star comedian, and headlined him in the holiday-season revue of 1963 at the Barrfields Pavilion, Largs. But despite success in that field, he was not cut out to be a Scotland-based funny man; a wider field, especially in mime, beckoned.
As a schoolboy growing up in Scotstounhill, Glasgow, second eldest of a family of eight, McAvoy was always an artistic lad, creating small puppets out of colourful old clothes and running his own mini-puppet theatre. He also loved to act.
The wee boy who just had to become an actor enhanced his love of the arts by enrolling for classes at the School of Art in Glasgow’s Renfrew Street; his first job was in the big fashion stores of the city, increasing the profits of the owners by dressing their windows with all the delicate artistry at his command. Young McAvoy had a flair for the arts, even in the sterner world of retail commerce.
Inevitably, in the fabulous 1950s, when Glasgow was seeing a new interest in the dramatic arts, he just had to join other aspiring thespians at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow’s Athenaeum building. The burgeoning Citizens’ Theatre in the Gorbals needed trained actors, which is why young McAvoy found himself alongside such future performers as John Cairney and (set to be a gem of television presenters) Mary Marquis. He had the built-in creative sense but he needed the basic study and training. Live theatre, especially in so vibrant a nursery as the Citizens’, then housed in the old Princess Theatre building, was to hone the talents of the lad from Scotstounhill.
Just look at his credits. Small parts and big parts, character roles in Z Cars and Dad’s Army, and meaty parts in Sunday night dramas. Old lags or angry army sergeants, McAvoy could transform each role into something truly realistic. He was also a performer in musicals, some of you might remember the original TV movie for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat in 1972, before the 80’s revival, McAvoy starred as Joseph’s father Jacob in that, a role I know myself having appeared in my school production in 1978 as Jacobs youngest son, Benjamin. Other notable appearances include The Bill, Minder and the Peter Capaldi film, Strictly Sinatra alongside such Scottish stalwarts as Una McLean, Brian Cox, Iain Cuthbertson, Tommy Flanagan and Kelly McDonald.
Not everybody knows that McAvoy’s role as the Teacher made him a familiar face from Pink Floyd’s The Wall, the 1982 global cult film with Bob Geldof as a burned-out rock star. It spawned thousands of items of memorabilia, and McAvoy’s animated character in the college cap was seen on t-shirts around the world, introducing him to millions.
His love of mime was intense, and he made a mark, naturally, in the busy world of Scottish pantomime, with featured roles at the King’s theatres in Glasgow and Edinburgh. The mime in pantomime had strong appeal. One day, borrowing from his actress friend Mary Marquis a French vocabulary and phrase book, he crossed the Channel to Paris to study and work in L'Ecole de Jacques LeCoq. It had been his secret ambition to go there for some years.
LeCoq was his idol, and friends at the school say his miming skill was such that he could make anyone know what he was saying without words. He became deeply immersed in the international world of mime and right up to his death was still in touch with that famous school.
McAvoy had been ill from leukaemia for some years, but retained his link with live theatre and, before being hospitalised, had taken on a cameo part on the London stage. He was a sensitive man of the arts to the end. He died on this day, 2005, in London, aged 77.
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June 13th
The next day, I woke up and had a bagel that I had saved. I started to get ready early since, as a group, we decided that we wanted to dress up to go to the theatre. We knew we would be out all day so I planned to dress in layers. We stopped at the center for a couple of snacks.
Later on, we all met up at the bus stop to head over to the theater together. The bus was relatively close to the theater, and we made it to the Abbey Theatre just in time. The Theatre was built in 1904 and is rich in Irish history. However, the original theatre burned in the 1950’s and was revived in its current location today.
We toured backstage (pictures 3, 5, 6, & 8), learned about the founders, and peeked in on one of the makeup rooms. I had the opportunity to work on shows growing up as both an actor and in the tech crew. It was gleeful to see how a professional theater works.
After the tour was completed, we went to the Guinness Storehouse (pictures 7, 9, & 10). I had no idea what to expect, but it was so cool! It was interactive, interesting, and fun. There was a tunnel that was dark and black and as you passed through you entered a room of white light, and it felt heavenly. It was an experience. We went to the 360 bar up top for the beer tasting.
The 360 bar is a room where they serve you a complimentary pint of Guinness and sit with windows all around you while overlooking the panoramic views of the City. I noticed Dublin does not have a lot of skyscrapers. You can see everything without being blocked by steel and concrete.
After we drank our pint, we went back to Abbey Theatre for the play (picture 13). It was absolutely exhilarating. I was a little worried when I saw that it was a one-woman show, but it took my breath away. It made me laugh, cry, and feel every emotion in between. The storyline was about a woman who’s mother struggled with suicide. The daughter made a list of Every Brilliant Thing she could think of to remind her mother why she should continue to live. What was once her mother's coping mechanism turned into her own when she went through similar thoughts and feelings.
It was heartbreaking and empowering. I loved seeing the play in the Abbey Theatre and will tell everyone about the story of Every Brilliant Thing. Maybe even see the play back home.
June 14th
Today we had a class discussion that focused on art through music. We talked about how art and music have influenced our culture in ways we don't often see or hear. I listen to a lot of music that has some sort of message in it. Either subtle or the message is very clearly written and expressed. I like to listen to songs that tell the story of someone in love or someone who experienced a hard time or lost a battle. I think that there are a lot more songs describing the depth of emotions through happiness, feelings of sadness and fits of anger. This affects our culture because it influences the conversations we have. The more vulnerable people we have influence our converstaions, the more likely we will be vulnerable in our private lives.
My teacher keeps telling us all about how Irish people tell stories and how that is how they communicate. I have been seeing that more and more the longer I stay here. They tell stories of their culture and share it with others. The words then live on. I especially experienced this through the Pub Crawl (pictures 2, 4, & 11).
Later we went to a few national museums and observed Irish art (pictures 12, 14, 15, 16, 18, & 19). There were so many gorgeous paintings, sculptures, and photographs. You could visually imagine the scenery and story with every stroke. After we left the museums, we went to the National Library and took in the exhibits on Irish Literature and how it has grown over the years.
We then went to O’Neils for food and to see if they had the long anticipated Baileys Cheesecake. This time we were successful. After we ate, we strolled down the streets and looked in windows before heading back.
I packed for Scotland and our trip to Galway the next day. I can’t wait to go to Galway! I have heard so much about it, and it has been on my bucket list.
June 15th
I woke up and got ready to leave for the bus to take us to the train that would take us to Galway. We eventually got on the train, and I sat with my teacher and her family. We talked and I listened to music on the way there since the WIFI was not working.
Once we got off the train, we went exploring all that Galway has to offer. We went to the best fish-and-chips place in Ireland, tried oysters, went to a small bakery, souvenir shopped, and even found a used bookstore. I got so many great souvenirs in Galway.
I loved the atmosphere here. It felt so much like Barcelona. The city was alive and full of live music and friendly people. I wished we had more time to spend here. Eventually, we met with all the students in our group at the park and just talked. It was great to bond with everyone even more.
The train back was pretty uneventful. The wifi was still out, so I read some books I had downloaded on my phone. On the way back, we made fun of one of the girls in our group’s book that she was reading. She was reading a chapter that was NSFW and all of us, including our teacher, teased her about it. Eventually, we got off the train and went back to UCD.
I finished packing for Scotland since I had to wake up insanely early for my flight. Right before I went to bed, however, my classmate came over and gave me the book she had been reading. She said I could keep it and that it was an amazing read. I decided I would take it to Scotland with me and went to bed.
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