Dustin Cohen is a Brooklyn-based photographer and filmmaker. The Watchmaker is the second short film in his Made In Brooklyn series. It introduces us to David Sokosh, the proprietor of Brooklyn Watches.
Each of David's mechanical creations features a vintage Swiss Unitas pocket watch movement, painstakingly restored and paired with an appropriately tasteful case, dial and hands. The resulting timepieces are timeless, unique and average between $500 and $1000 -- a fair price for handcrafted beauty.
Despite not being a car guy, this is a challenge even I'm interested in. The online show "Super Power Beat Down" brings together two Bat-fans for some gut-churningly nerdy smack talk (for example, when extolling the virtues of the '89 Batmobile, the guy talks about its armor shielding as a benefit, which was merely an optical effect *ahem*), followed by a race between the two cars.
The smack talking blurs between the reality of the two actual vehicles and their story elements a little too much (and the segment overall would benefit from a tighter edit - double *ahem*). Really what we're talking about is whether a chopped and converted Corvette from the 60s can take on a fiberglass encased Camaro-something-or-other chassis from 1989.
We have to point out that these cars are not the originals (for example the original Batmobile was a modified Ford prototype vehicle), but more recent reproductions. Nonetheless, you can guess whom we're rooting for.
The world's smallest mass-produced car is back in production. The UK's Peel P50 was born in 1962, had about enough room for a single driver and a shopping bag, and cost an unheard of £199 ( US $2200 in today's money). The ads joked that it was almost cheaper than walking. The company made 50 of the cars, 27 of which are still known to still be puttering today. In these fuel conscious times, a new company called Peel Engineering Ltd. is doing another production run of 50 units of the iconic little car.
Only 50? I feel like they're denying the next generation of Shriners their ride to work.
Before you run over to northern England with your checkbook, don't forget that there's no reverse gear - making conventional parking difficult. That's okay, just pick the car up by its rear handle and wheel it into place. It's also not quite as cheap as it was back in the 60s. You'll need to shell out upwards of $12,000 to get one today. I suppose that's cheap in the world of collectible oddball cars, but is also close to what you'd pay for a larger car with those other amenities like mirrors, a fourth wheel and a second headlight.
If you'd like to see one of the classics in action, here's a video where strapping "Top Gear" lad Jeremy Clarkson stacks his stocky 6' 5" frame into the diminutive auto.
It really does look like he's driving around in a snow blower. He takes the P50 on the road with BBC camera crew in tow. He points out in the video that their production vehicle is a hybrid SUV that actually measures in at friendlier to the environment than the Peel. Not only does Jeremy take the car to the office, he drives it around in the office! This is a great clip, even if you're not a huge car buff.
Wouldn't we all like to do that on our last Friday at a job? I'd love to strap a plow to the front of a little car like this and rearrange some cubicles someday. Let's see those vindictive clowns from H.R. just try and catch me... but I digress...
What used to be the chattering racket of floppy drive data access is now music you can dance to. Mr Solid Snake has put the whirr of the floppy drive's stepper motors to good use in recreating that SNL standard "What Is Love" by Haddaway. You can check out his YouTube page for more floppy drive performances of the theme from Star Trek (actually quite amazing), Superman, and the inevitable cover of music from Zelda.
The only thing I'd change is to get some more microphones in there to really hear the nitty gritty of the eight musical motors. There's a lot going on in these arrangements that I'd want to capture.
Prefer your 90s clubskank themes in a more solid state mode? Okay, here's the same song as it might have looked and sounded on an old 8 bit NES.
I was recently looking through a pile of old advertising for photo gear. It was much stranger than you'd think. On the one hand you think of the stereotype of tech hobbies like shooting photos and home movies being the province of dad. There's no good reason for that, of course. Anyone can load film and take nice pictures.
Yet if you look at some of the earliest photo ads, you see a very different image of women. Kodak actively courted women photographers in their earliest ads. They're not just shown as the subject of photography - they're out there snapping pictures, sometimes going so far as to depicted femme photogs as adventurers. Thumbing through the ads I found plenty of early Kodak ads and how-to books that prominently featured women taking photos.
Even after this early start of photography being for everyone, for a long time we still ended up with this idea of photography being a guy thing. When did advertisers chose to appeal mostly to a male audience? Let's take a look at a couple of advertisers advertising their cameras by accessorizing with ladies.
No real problem with the Bolex projector ad, just a glamorous lady sitting between a couple of movie projectors. No sleaziness or goony puns in the text of the ad either. Put aside the use of a woman as a sort of prop, I don't see any egregious problems here.
Yashica's Electro 35 tells a different story. A voluptuous nude lady (except for her highly trained scarf) stands astride a giant camera. A lot of the writing in the ad is rather breathless in the description of the Electronic Brain - what we'd today called Auto-Exposure. The other copy in the ad is okay (though they make the point of referring to the camera as "her" as well as use the word "naked"), but it gets extra weird at the bottom: "There's a little red light... that says, "Stop, man!" when you're over. Electro 35 lets you take her when you want her and never over-expose her." You don't have to be Felini to figure that out - especially with visual aids like Ms. 70s Custom Van art over there...
Finally, even though the lady in our final example is fully clothed, Sabrina's jutting out over the Bell & Howell slide projector is just as bad as the Yashica ad - possibly worse.
I don't know if it bugs me more that we're talking about her "projection equipment" (check the possessive pronoun in the copy), or that the product is called "headliner". Everyone I've show this ad to so far has looked twice in disbelief. Also, most of them helpfully pointed out that she may not even know there's a projector down there. I've got some really great friends, you know...
We've long since looped back around, women and men are both happily snapping off pictures - have been for years. Photography as a hobby for everyone is healthier than ever. I just find it amazingly progressive that Kodak's early ads promoted photography to both men and women. I guess it just took the rest of the industry us a few more decades to finally figure that out.
Remember that day in school when all the girls were marched into one room, and the boys into another to watch special "so I guess you're growing up now" films? Happened a couple times to me. While the girls were off watching a film on menstruation (which most of them had conquered by then), we boys were subjected to a hopelessly outdated film with way too many naked men having a way too frank discussion in a gym shower room (no, it wasn't THAT kind of movie).
Later I remember all of us seeing a filmstrip in health class that discussed venereal disease. As the accompanying cassette bleeped off the first few frames, my eyes locked on the large "Walt Disney" logo. I couldn't help but point to the screen and say, "I'll bet that Mickey gave a dose to Minnie... that dirty rat..."
I miraculously did not serve detention that day.
We've got the original film here, but the film strip is what I remember. The movie doesn't depict those lovable Disney characters and their orgiastic troubles, as I'd hoped. Rather they portayed the various V.D. attackers as columns of lumpy, germy, soldiers. The general (is that Keenan Wynn's voice?) issues orders to his boys, outlining the plan of attack.
The animation isn't exactly what you might expect from the Disney studios. The film uses the "limited animation" technique as a way to save time and money in production. It was the early 70s, after all, and animators were using these kinds of shortcuts even in the features.
Having watched "VD Attack" again recently, I found it offered a good discussion of a vitally important issue. Sometimes educational films get so caught up in being entertaining, it undermines the message. Except for the great big Disney logo at the start of the film that got us all laughing, the film made an impact even on a group of unruly high school students, and at least one smart mouth (yes, I can still quote lines from that one viewing decades ago).
Disney's role in educational films dates back to the 1940s when the studio was in some financial trouble. "Fantasia" had been a spectacularly expensive project that ultimately failed at the box office. WWII left Disney unable to screen product in other countries, cutting off a vital source of revenue. Starting in 1945, Walt took in outside work for the armed services as well as the creation of a series of corporate sponsored films for the American public school system.
"The Story of Menstruation" was paid for by the company we know now as Kimberly Clark - makers of Kotex products - and for ten minutes prepares girls for the changes that are to come (though the film does not demonstrate the actual use of Kotex products - that awkward talk is still reserved for mom). A consulting gynecologist ensured that the film concentrated more on biology than marketing. This was one of the first commercially sponsored film distributed to high schools, and even earned the Good Housekeeping Seal. The information is very good, the serious matronly voice over isn't too stern or too trivial, and the film is a showcase of how animation is a great way to explain complex and sensitive concepts. The music sounds a bit maudlin and syrupy, but that's not uncommon in movies of the time. After the film, the girls received booklets called "Very Personally Yours" with built-in marketing of Kotex products - all with no mention of the use of tampons; the product of rival Tampax.
There's really not much to snicker at in most of the film (though the baby girl at the start of the film sure wears a lot of lipstick). The film offers a rational explaination that's thorough enough to answer a lot of important questions, and the narrator has just enough professional disinterest to not incite panic. However, around the six minute mark, things get a little strange. Asking girls to keep track of their periods on a calendar is fine (I guess?), but referring to it as "past performance" doesn't just make me feel weird, right? Kewpie doll women clean house by sending a chair smashing through the floorboards, and also ride a horse so vigorously as to shatter its spine. At 7:30 the narrator admonishes "don't let it get you down... after all, no matter how you feel, you have to live with people".
I felt sort of encouraged that even though this movie is over 60 years old, the core facts do connect. The film is as frank as it needs to be without being scary. No matter what else you've heard (or perhaps experienced), just remember the narrator's reassurance that “There is nothing strange or mysterious about menstruation.”
Both films have fallen into the public domain. Disney doesn't tend to lay claim to these educational titles very often. Educating young people is important, but I suppose if you can't make a ride out of it at Disneyland...
I'm a kid who grew up on all kinds of American radio. Certainly television was the bigger portion on my plate, but I've always been entranced by audio-only entertainment. In the 5th grade when I discovered National Public Radio's dramas, jazz music, and also a local Chicago show dedicated to old time radio. I still have hundreds of cassettes from back then filled with Jack Benny and Suspense shows from radio's heyday.
Oddly, it wasn't until the late 80s in high school that I got into pop music. If you weren't on top of the top 40 in my school, you simply weren't part of youth culture. Again I have countless cassettes I taped off of the radio. I can download digital copies of those songs easily enough, but the parts of those tapes I cherish most are the local DJs that made me feel like they were talking right to me. The on-air talent on my favorite stations were from Chicago, they had all the lowdown on what was happening around town and in the world of music... local radio DJs were a crucial part of the snapshot of that time in my life.
Spin the dial to radio today. The recent deaths of Davy Jones and Whitney Houston are so sad for so many of us, but it further underlines the U.S. radio industry's fading relevance. Jones died on a weekday, so DJs were able to inform their listeners live on the air, perhaps even adding a few impromptu words of tribute. Houston died on a weekend. While TV and celebrity websites like the onerous TMZ were able to quickly spread the news, there was a scarcely a murmur on radio.
While in other countries, weekends are where radio goes into high gear (lots of ambitious and experimental shows broadcast in those hours when people can listen longer), in the U.S. the weekend is when many radio stations go into auto-pilot. Talent often pre-records homogeneous copy weeks ahead of time in the odious practice known as "tracking". It's a common radio practice today. Rather than hire local live talent, one voice records bland "evergreen" copy that stations can play back as part of pre-recorded programming anytime. This is also why you'll hear long "dance-party" or "countdown the hits" shows on American radio most weekends. Besides a skeleton crew to keep an eye on the transmitter, many times there are few people in the actual station on a weekend to handle live local broadcasts.
This isn't new. Corporate media owners have been downsizing U.S. radio interests for years, being especially savage in smaller markets. There is no regard for local flavor, nor is there a feeling of duty or service to the community ears they're selling to advertisers. In a bid to make radio cheaper, they've made it feel cheaper too. Yet the reality is that radio can be done on a shoestring. CHIRP Radio is a Chicago volunteer group that's 200 strong. Every day they produce compelling, dynamic, and fun real-live programming that streams on the web (the group is at the forefront of the legal fight for opening up more local over-the-air frequencies). Shawn Campbell, the director of CHIRP, has often said that people didn't leave radio, radio left the people.
It's sad to be reminded that this in many parts of this country, the fantastic world of radio... really relevant local radio... could soon fizz out in a sad burst of static. It seems that the future of radio is in the hands of volunteers and enthusiasts. Perhaps that's for the best. As smartphones become more and more common, streaming your favorite internet station while on the move is a reality. As the corporate types continue to create content with the balance sheet instead of listening with their hearts, more and more disenfranchised listeners will simply create radio of their own. Maybe it's up to more groups like CHIRP to remind us of what has always made radio great... when it's done right, radio is that intimate little voice in your ear speaking only to you.
In those halcyon 80s summers, it was important to show all your neighbors how great your car stereo was. Wait... "great" isn't the word... Oh yeah: "Bowel-rattlingly loud" is what I meant to say. Not much has changed, I guess. The people in my neighborhood now welcome summertime by dropping the car windows and pumping out anti-social women-hating music (except the guy who blasts 70s Joni Mitchell - I still hope to meet that guy).
Back to suburban 80s Chicago, and showing off your car stereo. The sheer amplitude made it easy to notify the neighborhood that your car stereo could pump out some serious decibels. That's what bums me out about this amazing car stereo with a built-in 1" black & white CRT television. No one is going to know that you have the coolest car stereo ever unless they shove their head into your car and squint really hard to make out the picture.
I'm amazed at how nice this stereo looks. Back then, off-brand gear usually betrayed its cheaper pedigree by taking shortcuts in quality. Check out this interior shot to see just how the engineers at Yoko were able to cram in a fully functional tape deck and a mini CRT - they even thoughtfully included a magnifier for the tiny screen! I think it goes without saying that this would have always been an illegal device, but it would have been nice to be able to at least monitor the soundtrack of your favorite TV broadcasts (especially live local sports) while you drive.
If I had a car this could fit in, I'd absolutely rig it up and risk the wrath of the local police. Of course the analog tuner wouldn't get anything except our one remaining low power broadcast TV station. Not to worry - check out the jack marked "VCR" on the front. That's an aux in so you can plug in a portable video deck (oh, murder!), your camcorder, or how about a DTV converter (powered through you cigarette lighter, of course) with an antenna? Better still - hook up an old black and white Pong console, many of which ran off of batteries anyway.
Today it's easy to be unimpressed about car video. We've all seen a disturbing number of mini-vans outfitted with seat-back DVD players (just can't get those kids into reading a book, eh?), and of course anyone can whip out a phone or laptop to watch video on the go. The desire has always been there, it was just so much harder to achieve back in the 80s. There are probably a LOT of reasons this never became a standard car add-on.
Oh, and to close with possibly the retro-nerdiest thing I've ever said here, You know what I really wish? I wish that deck were compatible with the strange video format of Pixel Vision (the toy camera that recorded video on regular audio cassettes). The Fisher-Price lo-fi camera's grainy output would look pretty sweet on a 1" screen.
Thanks to the guys at the audiokarma.org forums for digging up these photos.
The atomic age office brought with it reams of typing, work which was usually reserved for women. Underwood, the famous typewriter manufacturer, responded to a consistent complaint of secretaries; chipped fingernails. Instead of chuckling at the stereotype, let's examine Underwood's two-pronged solution - a newly shaped typewriter key, and Underwood nail polish.
The Underwood 150 introduced half-moon shaped keys, giving long fingernails a chance to slip into the spaces between keys rather than striking the usual large button-shaped keys head on. Now you can preserve your blood-red talons rather than risk (quoting the ad): "short unfashionable fingernails". The typewriter also promised "kitten soft" key action (who writes this stuff?), so you don't have to mash your fingers down on the keys so much just to make the 150 work. I'll remember that next time I'm slamming out my resume on a baby cat.
The other tool to keep your fingernails and hands (again, quoting the ad...) "lovely to look at, lovely to touch" (they're not encouraging inter-office hanky-panky here, are they?), Underwood also introduced their own nail polish. It looks like it might have been more of a free marketing come-on rather than something you'd pick up at the five and dime. The "Underwood Red" polish promises durability above all, and claims to have been styled by "Beauty Consultants". After thinking about it, I suppose the combination of impact-resistant nail polish and the specially-shaped keys on the 150 could actually have helped eliminate the irritation of chipped nails. Though, why didn't that half-moon key shape stick around? Next time you see a woman with smashed up fingernails that can only be battle scars from a mid-century typing pool, maybe you can ask her for us.
I realize that chiptune covers of classic 80s songs aren't exactly new (someday we'll lay down a whole setlist of C64 SID chip covers of 80s classics), but this fresh take on the classic "This Charming Man" by The Smiths is just so right. Of course anyone can play any tune on any oddball instrument to get a laugh, but in this case the instrumentation and arrangement are perfection. How can this not have been a video game from the golden age? I dare you to get this tune out of your head, or to stop your d-pad thumb from twitching all day.
Okay, so what would a video game based on The Smiths be like? It would have to alternate between jubilance and murk, that's a given. I imagine you'd play the part of old Stephen Patrick Morrissey (his single-pixel pompadour bouncing with every skip). First level you'd have to slink quietly through a dusty library, trying to score dates with English Lit majors by dropping some Wilde, Keats & 60s pop queen references.
Spurned, you move on to an uncustomary bright London day looking for Shyness or Coyness (hoping they'll be nice, though they can also stop you). If you don't find Love, don't worry. The Bomb will bring you together. Hint: A+B+pause will give you even more tortured metaphors for "death". Avoid panic, the boy with the thorn in his side, hooligans (no matter how sweet and tender they may seem) and right when you think you have five seconds to spare - Bigmouth strikes again! In the bonus round, you upgrade your character to both son and heir, finding sadly that it's to nothing in particular. After all of your travails (and moping), you can see the the other members of The Smiths at the far end of the screen. Reunion concert? Nope... it's just Johhny Marr telling you that the rest of the band are in another castle. Actually it's 1998 and the other two members of the band await you in a courtroom to press a lawsuit. A bit depressing and anti-climactic for a video game, I grant you... but this is The Smiths game we're talking about. It was really nothing.
Miss ol' Moz's voice? Here's a (sloooooow, but impressive) mashup of "This Charming Man" and something by that Lana Del Rey so many people are grousing about.
Just this week, model helicopters have come up twice in my life. My cinematographer buddies all want to mount DSLR cameras onto remote-controlled model helicopters to get fantastic aerial shots on the cheap. The thing is that I happen to know just how expensive a real model chopper is, and that in the R/C world I think there is nothing more difficult to control than a helicopter (especially with an unevenly weighted multi-thousand dollar DSLR payload).
In the last few years, toy makers have introduced very lightweight helicopters with dual blades. They don't look as realistic, but the counter-rotation helps steady the little beasties. Another recent development are these multi-rotor platforms that don't try to look like a helicopter at all. They're used for aerial games, and yes for carrying cameras. I've just got to get my hands on one.
Not that long ago, one of these quadrotor choppers would have been the province of a James Bond movie. So in way of tribute, here is a squadron of these models performing a unique rendition of 007's theme.
Quadrotor Helicopters Perform The Theme From "James Bond"
Just this week, model helicopters have come up twice in my life. My cinematographer buddies all want to
mount DSLR cameras onto remote-controlled model helicopters to get fantastic aerial shots on the cheap.
Thing is that I happen to know just how expensive a real model chopper is, and that in the R/C world I think
there is nothing more difficult to control than a helicopter (especially with an unevenly weighed multi-thousand
dollar DSLR payload).
In the last few years, toymakers have introduced very lightweight helicopters with dual blades. They don't
look as realistic, but the counter-rotation helps steady the little beasties. Another recent development are these
multi-roto platforms that don't try to look like a helicopter at all. They're used for aerial games, and yes for
carrying cameras. I've just got to get my hands on one.
Not that long ago, one of these quadrotor choppers would have been the province of a James Bond movie.
So in way of tribute, here is a squadron of these models performing a unique rendition of 007's theme.
This peaceful full color Parisian street scene was shot on July 19, 1914 - only a few days before the outbreak of WWI.
