This peaceful full color Parisian street scene was shot on July 19, 1914 - only a few days before the outbreak of WWI.
I've got to be a little suspicious of a plaything that never seemed to appear in any toy store in my neighborhood. Presto Magix kits showed up in card stores, hospital gift boutiques, and where I grew up; the butcher shop. Instead of theorizing about some cruel arts & crafts cartel, let's examine the friction based world of Presto Magix.
If you're a model builder, or perhaps worked in the publishing world P.M. (pre-Macintosh), 
you probably remember dry transfer decals. These thin decals don't require water or solvents. You simply position the carrier sheet, rub down on the decal with a pencil which transfers the decal to your model or rock zine headline. Each Presto Magix kit includes a sheet of full color character decals, and a cardstock backdrop to use as a canvas to create your own fantasy scenes.
Presto Magix licensed all manner of movie characters, cartoon personalities, sports teams, etc. so that you and your trusty pencil can create custom cartoon panoramas without really knowing how to draw. The best part is that once finished, there are usually plenty of transfers left over that you can use to populate your notebooks and folders. The decals are fragile, so even a tough-as-nails squad of Star Wars stormtroopers can be beheaded with one careless swipe of an eraser.
Presto Magix are fun, but I hope that this isn't another plaything that barely passes as "creative". Granted you get to use some aesthetic sense when placing the little decal people, but all you're really doing is burnishing the little guys into place. We've written about a lot of DIY projects before here at Retro Thing, with varying degrees of creative value. Even with paint-by-numbers projects, you do perform the act of painting, and there are opportunities for individuality.
Maybe I'm expecting a little too much from these little project kits. My fear is that as the label "educational" is applied to more and more inane things, fun and cheap Presto Magix kits could start putting on airs. I just like to think of them as probably the most fun thing that I ever found at a plumbing supply house.
Paint by Numbers kits
DIY Mona Lisa... sort of
Art-O-Mat - art dispensed by vending machine
Fine art with Crayolas
Project leader Ingo Ruhnke started developing Pingus in 1998, and the modern variant is strikingly similar to Lemmings, except that it stars a multi-talented cast of suicidal penguins. There are 22 tested levels on the first island of the Pingus' quest with more than 100 others available. The game runs in over a dozen languages and even comes with a full level editor, allowing you to create your own custom version. 
are always so earnest and wrongheaded? It's not just cheesy 16mm classroom movies from 50 years ago, it seems like darned near any cautionary multimedia tale aimed at kids is destined to be cloying and ineffectual. The above video "Don't Copy That Floppy" is only from 1992, but judging by its cluelessness it may as well be a scratchy black and white film about how to behave at a weenie roast. 
We start off with a loooong rap explaining how software piracy is shattering the computer industry. The video slows down with interviews from industry experts mewling about the harm done by casual copying. We bookend with even more rap that I don't remember anyone asking for, end credits roll. It's now ten minutes later, and you're so mad you're looking for your classroom's copy of Oregon Trail so that the piracy can really begin.
stop development on future sequels. That's all true, but I really doubt that this propaganda film got that message out there. The tone of this video is so whiny and hopeless, it's as if the software industry is holding a gun to their own heads begging kids not to force them to pull the trigger. Remind you of any other desperate monopolistic industries you could name?
Paging through this new site I found lots of interesting auctions finishing at prices I wouldn't mind paying. There were also plenty of rarities to keep even a serious collector bidding too. The funny thing was that I couldn't find a copy of the infamous and rare "Chase the Chuckwagon" Atari game that the site is named after. It's a really lousy game, so no harm done.
The wonders of modern miniaturization have brought us a smaller and sleeker version in the form of a tiny Mini Clubman. It still only plays 33 RPM disks (unless you enjoy 12" singles at 2/3 the normal speed). It costs 11,300 Yen ($110) with worldwide shipping -- enough to buy a 
True to the Pioneer name, this is a nice unit. The overall design is very smooth, moving past the mega-gunmetal on most boom boxes - instead adopting a stealthy aerodynamic mode with luxurious golden chrome highlights. The knobs and switches are all inset, even the antenna tucks away inside the unit. I'm always impressed with a boom box that includes RCA inputs and outputs as this one does, along with 1/4" headphone jack, mic jacks, and even a mic jack marked "mix mic" (there's a knob marked "mix volume" on top, so perhaps this is for DJ-ing over your mix tapes or the radio? Neat feature.)
Most important is that the boom box sounds really good - better than many other slim-sized units from the time. It gets much louder than its size would make you think. Another stylistic touch is removing the usual rigid handle, instead offering up lugs for attaching the "Pioneer" branded nylon web strap. All in all, a very classy radio - the kind that your girlfriend might even let you buy.
As you can see, the Da-Brite is a very simple editor. It's not intended that you' watch your whole movie on this device to make edit decisions (though I know masochistic editors who have). After all, there's no screen or even a shutter inside the viewer. Without a shutter the film just whizzes by your eye without conveying the illusion of images in motion. So you have to make your edit choices elsewhere - probably using a projector. Then you're ready to make your cuts with the Da-Brite.
Created by Australians Kim Ryrie and Peter Vogel, the 
Stratego is a battle fought on a 10 x 10 square grid. Each player deploys their troops to protect his flag, but the ranks and abilities are secret from their opponent. As players move around the board, they uncover their opponent's troops one by one. Not only is memorization important, but you can also plant misinformation by how you move your pieces - make your opponent think there is a bomb where there isn't one, lure him to a piece that might be your flag when in fact it's a heavily fortified garrison There's more to this game than meets the eye.
The Milton Bradley version stormed these shores in 1961, though similar games date back to about 1910. The board pictured here is an early set with wooden pieces which were quickly changed for plastic. The change wasn't just an economic one - the plastic pieces have a more stable base and are not as prone to tipping over. In recent years Stratego has seen many branded versions for Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, electronic and video game flavors... though the latest issue of the original board game has blank pieces with stickers that you have to put on yourself. That's a far cry from the classy metallic printing of every version that came before.
The wizard behind the early Star Wars CG was 
Cuba recently explained the origins of the vintage footage: "This 'making of' video was originally produced for my personal presentations as I was often asked to explain the process (back in the 70s and 80s when it was still obscure). Lucasfilm was vigilant in protecting its copyrighted material but OK’d this video at the time, since i had no intention of distributing it. (although copies apparently escaped) I wonder what they would say, now that the EVL in Chicago has resurrected it (after 30 years!) and posted it on YouTube.
