Antique Tommy Also Came

This antique postcard reminds us that it's not just Mary's who have all the fun...

Mary had a little Brother,
Tommy was his name,
Every time she had a caller
Tommy also came.

Bamorth & Co. Publishers, Holmfirth (England) And New York No 1234
Copyright 1910 Bamforth & Co.

Lest you think I am imposing our current use of "come" or "cum" (that darn "rampant presentism" problem) upon ye olde world and poor innocent Tommy, let's look at the slang term.

According to Online Etymology, the word come -- specifically the sexual use (including variant spellings) of 'come' -- began it's life as a word for orgasm in 1650, in Walking In A Meadowe Greene, (found in a folio of "loose songs" collected by Bishop Percy) as follows:

They lay soe close together, they made me much to wonder;
I knew not which was wether, until I saw her under.
Then off he came, and blusht for shame soe soon that he had endit;
Yet still she lies, and to him cryes, "one more and none can mend it."

Ironically this seedy use of "come" wouldn't mean the literal seeds until later. According to Online Etymology, again, the meaning "semen or other product of orgasm" wasn't on record until the 1920s.

Which would mean that this postcard, both copyrighted & postmarked 1910, would refer to Tommy's orgasm, not his semen.

Germans use "kommen" (to come) in the same context.

But The Poster Was Glorious

Movie poster of Ernst Lubitsch's Ange (Angel), starring Marlene Dietrich, by French illustrator René Brantonne.

"This empty film helped name Dietrich as "Box Office Poison" in 1937."

Now Will You Be Good!

It's not posed as a question, so I'm guessing they knew that any straight guy would love to be forced into a dip with three women. Even in 1910.

But he couldn't leave his hat on.



I'm guessing the pomade kept him from ruining his 'do'.

Postcard copyright (and postmarked) 1910 by the Colonial Art Pub. Co, B'klyn, N.Y. Published by F. G Henry & Co.

Butt Wonder

I spotted this old doctor's exam table in a thrift store of all places.


I couldn't help but wonder how many butts had sat on that table... It might be an icky thought, but it was also part of the appeal -- oh, if that table could talk!


How many legs were hoisted into the air above it... Yes, the rest of the metal stirrup parts were in one of the drawers; but did the doc ever get down & dirty on that exam table? Are stirrups standard issue -- were they when this old exam table was new?

:sigh: So many questions, not enough space. At least not enough for me to convince hubby we could get it -- of course my 'romantic' questions didn't exactly sell him either. *wink*

Bamforth & Co: Postcards & Films

While Bamforth & Co is remembered for their "saucy seaside postcards" (postcards with bawdy & risque captions sold on promenades and piers to Victorian English folk on vacation 'seaside'), the story doesn't begin there - that's the end, so to speak.


James Bamforth was a photographer in the 1840's and he founded the company in founded the company in 1870 (in Holmfirth, Yorkshire), specializing in Life Model lantern slides.



According to Magic Lantern:

James Bamforth specialised in the mass production of photographic "Life Model" slides, often based on religious themes or moral instruction. He was no doubt influenced by the nonconformist, chapel based religion of that area, so it is somewhat ironic that the company should become more generally famous in the 20th Century for saucy postcards.

Bamforth built a studio in Holmfirth, and designed and painted the backcloth's and sets. Members of his family and other local people posed for the photographer for little or no pay. In many ways the Life model slides were made like early movies which they predated by 20 years or more. It is not surprising that Bamforth's became involved with movie making. ".....he chose homely themes, due to his use of neighbours as models and sitters...Thus it came about, to his lasting credit, that the simple characters of his stories combined with the perfect naturalness of the leading figures in them, has endeared his life model sets to millions of children and adults." Photogram February 1899

Many of the slides illustrated hymns and other popular songs. With each slide depicting a verse, they were designed for audiences to sing along. They were such a great success that Bamforth build a factory in 1898 and began mass production.

Since the magic lantern slides told simple tales, and Bamforth had everything required -- a skilled photographer, studio & production space, a pool of performers, costumes, and experienced in plot construction -- it seemed only natural that Bamforth would begin making films.

Screenonline says:

Possibly in response to this expertise, Riley Brothers of Bradford, who had been involved with moving picture technology since 1896 and had already begun to make films of their own, commissioned Bamforth in 1898 to produce further films to be sold exclusively to purchasers of their equipment. Although the exact business relationship between the two firms and the production dates of the films remains unknown, the subsequent advertisement of these productions in a 1903 Hepworth catalogue as 'RAB' films acknowledges their partnership.

(For more on Riley, see here.)

While Bamforth only made films for a few years (during two brief periods, 1898-1900 and 1913-1915), he made quite a few of them. Enough for film historians to call his films as the earliest examples of British comic film. His biggest star was Reginald Twisk, who played a Chaplin-like character known as Winky.

Some of his films were inspired by the magic lantern slides, including the themes and stories themselves. While I haven't been able to see many of Bamforth's films (Screenonline only allows Brits in schools to do so), it seems the morality lessons have taken on a more cheeky air.

Two must-see movies are:

Women's Rights (1899): Gossiping housewives find themselves in an awkward predicament.

Lover Kisses Husband (1900): Comedy short in which an adulterous tryst is foiled by a cunning husband.

In 1914, the war itself affected both film making and the focus of Bamforth & Co. The popularity of lantern slides had dimmed with the popularity of films, but movie production slowed due to World War I, and Bamforth & his sons focused on the growing market for picture postcards.



Not surprisingly, the sentimental was popular, and some of Bamforth's song & hymn lantern slides were converted into postcard series. Often called Bamforth Song Sets these cards are highly collected themselves, and these collectors consider the postcards the best characterizations of the soul of Bamforth & Co.

But with war also comes the need for comic relief, and while the English "seaside holiday" may have been an invention of the Victorians, the seaside postcards became extremely popular during and after the First World War.



So much so, that by the end of the war Bamforth & Co had moved away not only from the sentimental but from photographic images and the company began to really focus on the artist drawn risque comic postcards.



Derek Bamforth once explained the success of the cards:

'The more vulgar, the better'

He said: "We never publish anything obscene, we know where to draw the line. But the more vulgar the card, the better it sells."

And so it went, for decades.


Until the 1980's when James Bamforth's grandson retired and the company was sold to Scarborough printing firm ETW Dennis. In September 2000 ETW Dennis went into receivership and the Bamforth name and the copyrights to thousands of designs were bought by Ian Wallace, owner of The Beatles Shop, for an undisclosed sum. Now Bamforth designs can be found in new limited edition sets and licensed as Wallace plans to entice a younger audience who has never seen these gems:

"It's the humour of Carry On films and Benny Hill - they're just plain daft."

However, not everyone sees the images as a "bit of fun". Critics in the past have branded them sexist relics, best left in the past.

"OK some people think they're a bit sexist, but I think they're just fun," said Mr Wallace.

"Anyone who takes the images too seriously and doesn't laugh at them is a bit sad."

He is adamant that he can find a new audience willing to appreciate the cards' humour.

"I think there's a lot of young people who haven't seen this kind of stuff," he said.

"The images have been out of the public eye and hopefully they will come across as being fresh and fun."

Mr Wallace, I couldn't agree more.


For more (do you need more?!) on Bamforth, see Remembering Bamforth & Co. Ltd..

Antique and vintage Bamforth postcards can sell for cheap on eBay.

Art Nouveau Bronze Tease

A demure bonnet-wearing lady in bronze doesn't seem awfully compelling to me...





But just wait until she 'opens up' a bit...




Seller says:

Bronze is very heavy and well made in good condition, however one of the screws from the bottom that holds the lady in place is missing, circa 1908. Bronze is marked on the back J.B. 239. J and B was an old Philadelphia foundry. Bronze is beautifully decorated with a Art Nouveau nude lady spread out on a lily pad, waiting for her lover to joint her. Each side of the lily pad is hinged and lifts to cover her up forming a robe or a cloak. This is a high quality bronze with wonderful craftsmanship and detail. Bronze measures 5 1/2" long by 5 1/2" wide and 3 1/4" tall.

A lovely bit of antique lingerie tease.

Retro Protest Cocktail Mixers

The 8 plastic swizzle sticks look like little picket signs & read:

Stamp Out Spanish Dancing

Raise The Wages Of Sin

Lower The Age Of Puberty

Unite Against Togetherness

Tax Free Love (most worn)

Re-Arm Venus De Milo

Integrate The Yellow Pages

Down With Literasy Tests

(Again, I didn't have the heart to type them in all caps, as printed.)

Straight out of the 60's, and mine all mine!

Related reading: Drunk On Collecting: Swizzle Sticks & Strange Ads & Drunk On Collecting Continues.

Less Me, Less Muckraking

I really hate to make this post -- I feel it clutters up the blog. But on the second anniversary of Silent Porn Star, some things apparently need to be addressed. Rather than an insipid celebration, I bring you a (perhaps long overdue) opus on the blog (an additional FAQ of sorts).

In the interest of those who don't care -- who want 'on with the show!' -- I'm going to list the types of persons/issues covered here. If you don't see 'you' on the list and are not overly interested in 'the blog as whole' (but rather just enjoy the pieces), please, feel free to skip this post. (There are no nifty photos or images to entertain.)

1) Companies/persons with products to sell.
2) Persons who want to ring my neck because I won't play memes & other online games.
3) Persons who want to know more about me, the person behind the blog.

-- Begin Opus --

Blogging is a balancing act. Every expert will tell you that blogging is all about 'transparency', the ability to be seen, identified, and contacted. The degree of transparency, to many, equals the degree of respectability and/or credibility. People 'should have the right to know who you are' including your education, experience and whatever else it is that makes you able to have -- or at least justify -- your opinions, ramblings, advice etc. On the surface, this sounds fair enough. Yet most of the sane folks will also warn you about privacy, especially in the adult arena. Put the two together and bloggers who talk about, show, or otherwise deal in human sexuality have to tread carefully. Transparency & Safety are a balancing act.

I will admit that in the matter of transparency I likely err on the side of safety. Other than contact info, I give little of myself away; and that's by design. However, my privacy is not the only reason for my opaqueness; in fact, it's not even the primary reason.

When I started this blog, I did so with very clear ideas of what I wanted to do: To look at stuff (of a sexual nature) and, where I could, examine them as a part of their time and a part of our culture. But I also knew that whatever you knew, whatever I shared about myself, would color how you interpret and react to this blog's show and tell.

I realize that I'm a filter, the filter, and as such there's a lot of 'me' in here. My gender, race, education, profession, economic status, marital status, motherhood, age, weight, and probably eye color for all I know -- all of that colors what I select and say. I know that much, have admitted that much. But still, I try to limit the amount of 'me' here.

For every person who thinks that my own education, for example, would lend credibility to what I say; there would be another who would find it lessens my credibility.

If I said my education was in marketing, poli-sci, English, history, which would make my posts crap? Which would make them credible? Would the institution matter?

This is tricky, subjective, and hell, highly personal.

With sex, it's trickier yet.

If I said that I had been paid for assisting people with their sex lives, would it be better (more credible) if that assistance came from authoring sex ed manuals, research for a call-in radio show, a condom maker, a Planned Parenthood nurse, a therapist for sex addicts, a sex toy inventor, or a hooker? For that matter, who is the most knowledgeable about sex? Is a counselor more knowledgeable about sex, or is a medical doctor? A sex worker? Would the gender, of any, matter?

In truth, your answers are in part based upon your gender, race, education, personal experiences, etc., etc., etc. They are your filter, and add to the conversations (comments & emails) -- even dictate whether you'll be here in general. But just as I don't require you to name, divest or otherwise unravel that ball of yarn which is you in order to share your thoughts, I don't need to do so to share mine either. We may be curious about one another, you and I... but we really don't need to know all of that.

This is why I decline to participate in online memes, refuse to review sex toys here, won't tell you what positions I love & hate, and won't dish on what I did last night, or who it was with. My feelings on the reverse cowgirl, the latest vibrating Vivid Girl gadget, or bisexual escapades in (or post) college are even less relevant than the afore mentioned matters. I can (and in many cases do) all of those things elsewhere without mucking things up here -- it makes for less muckraking. And that's the point.

I want the objects, persons, scandals, artifacts and artifices to be under the microscope, the fodder for discussion; not me.

As Mole Man Stalks Sandra Clark

From Blockade Boy, "a 30th Century superhero/fashion designer with an eye for style, a sardonic wit, and chest hair to die for," comes this:

Are you troubled by Restless Bosom Syndrome? Poor gal... her left breast is afraid of the dark, but she's the one who has to get out of bed and do something about it. Oh, and Sandra? Haley Mills called. She wants her hair back.

By the way, I sleep in a similar fashion (albeit on a huge slab of granite): nude, except for a lightning beast hide arranged over my lower body so that it almost completely conceals my junk, and moaning suggestively. I figure, if some loser (okay, Storm Boy) is peeping at me, I might as well give him a little thrill. Because I firmly believe that charity begins at my junk.

The "Aoouga!" Bra

For girls who just aren't satisfied with wolf-whistles, there's this bra:



A Slip of a Girl says:

Those fabric covered wires -- in complete circles -- look like eyeglass frames. Frames surrounding a pair, your pair, of what I imagine would look like bulging eyes -- complete with colored irises, thanks to your areolas.

Popping-out like that deserves an "Aoouga!", like those old car horns, doncha think?

Old Money

The New York Times headline, Brooke Astor’s Son and Lawyer Face Criminal Charges reminded me that Brooke Astor wasn't always 105 years old...

She was once many things, including at the time she married Vincent Astor named Brooke Marshall, a widow of Buddy Marshall, and herself a very attractive 50-year-old magazine editor & writer, with a son, Anthony D. Marshall -- yes, the one now up on charges.

Brooke, the other Astor wives & the women in their lives have interesting stories to read about -- check here for starters.

Thinking of Brooke Astor and her ilk reminded me of my Dad's love of a local wealthy philanthropist and social doyenne -- we'll call her 'Jane'. When American Beauty came out, Dad used to imagine the withered & aged rail-thin body of Jane beneath not rose petals, but hundred dollar bills. Which reminds me, us, that money is a huge turn-on for many; more than youth, big breasts and firm skin.

Art Isn't Reality

Gracie says, "Once upon a time, we had the ability to interact with art as sane people," but she now thinks we've lost that ability as we whine and complain about the unfair & unhealthy messages 'the media' sends to women:

In the graceful 'perfected' forms we did not see condemnation of our own imperfect forms. We did not see beauty, walk away with the message that we must change ourselves to reflect art, and then complain that we were being brainwashed into doing so.

Was it fair to either men or women to be compared to the classic statues of ancient Greece? Those bodies sculpted of marble in the Archaic & Classical periods were glorified ideals. Not just body-beautiful in terms of proportion & fitness, but forever young as even the elderly were depicted in their physical prime. Such physical perfection was the definition not only of 'beauty' but of 'piety', 'honor' and other values. Where were the complaints that men and women alike were harming themselves trying to obtain the impossible? Where were the complaints of a youth-obsessed culture? Why haven't I read about spouses who, having kicked one another out of bed for eating crackers while not looking like Greek Gods, no longer fornicated?

Did anyone think to scream bloody murder at Leonardo Da Vinci for the Mona Lisa? Yet who among us could copy that enigmatic smile? None. However I've not heard of any suicides, facial mutilations, or deep depressions from the female population of the 16th century. Nor have I heard that the population dipped because men, dissatisfied with the smiles of real women, refused to get laid.

Was it fair to women for Peter Paul Rubens to portray the ideal woman as full-figured & voluptuous (his now famously "Rubenesque" women), when the masses, the majority of the population in the 17th century, were thin? They were thin from hard work, poor sanitation, and other issues of health & economy, and the full-figured standard of beauty was again based on rarity, and indeed unfair. Did they bitch & moan of the unfair standard of beauty, link it to health problems of excess, and demand their government impose artistic standards? Model standards? Did men suffer great unhappiness because they would never be satisfied with the more common thin bodies of real women?

She wonders if it's film or something else which has us confused:

Somehow we as a culture have forgotten that the photo, the TV show, the film, the talking heads and swaying hips selling us stuff, are each artful creations of their own. Skillfully created to move us to consume and screw more often than to motivate us towards 'beauty', 'piety' and 'honor', yes. But skillfully created nontheless. It's art.

And perhaps that's the real distinction on this continuum of art... It's not the skill required but the value it seeks to emulate, emote or force us to emit. It's in this territory that the 'art vs. porn' debate has long fought, that blurred line between 'beauty' and 'arousal'. Beauty is a virtue; arousal is a verb. But they meet in there... somewhere.

We'd like to make the distinction between art and artifice, the differences being critical to our acceptance of its value, yet we won't take responsibility for what those distinctions mean or how we choose to act upon them.

Is the camera to blame? Does the camera add envy along with those 10 pounds? Are we no more savvy than the Aborigine who fears that magic box will steal his soul? Why don't we see the distinction between representation & repression, between objectification in art and the self-imposed objectification we choose, rendering us victim to some to oppression we are only too willing to act upon ~ like a recipe. We see a pretty picture and we don't just imagine wanting it or being it, we must be it.

But is it really film which confuses us? Or is it that we no longer intend ~ even pretend ~ that we're responsible for our own actions?

...We don't need more legislation to protect us from ourselves; we just need to start taking responsibility for ourselves.

What The Hell Is An Art Burn?

I'd say it's a place where fools rush in -- to rescue. But they say it's not.

Warhol and the Film Factory

Facets Multi-Media, Inc., a non-profit media arts organization located in Chicago, recently had a week long Andy Warhol film retrospective and you can catch clips of Andy Warhol at their blog.

That's where I found this gem:



While Warhol says virtually nothing (and is rather cute in his smug silence), I blame the interviewer for asking simple "yes or no" questions. You'll never get anywhere with those.

UPDATE (later same day): Thanks, Mark for posting this at Boing Boing! (BoingBoingers, check out the rest of the blog!)

Way To Blow Your Pay Check, Canadians

In Canada, the average pay check rarely lasts two weeks. It's more like twenty songs.

(I didn't have the heart to put the ad text in all caps.)

Ad for Revelstoke Whiskey, via The Gender ADs Project's Strippers and Dancers collection.

The World of Suzie Wrong

It's Christmas, 1962...

What are you going to give your daughters?

How about little racist brothel dolls?

International Festival Of Erotic Animation

See more at the website.

The Black Champion & The White Avenger

Saved from a lynching via a female sado-masochist from the future who, it turns out, started the racist hunt, is the story of Terror Blu 113: Il Campione Nero (The Black Champion).

Bigger Marshmallows, Please

Sure, a giant box of mayo might be what some want, and others need their coffee; but me, I love giant marshmallows. Her's just leave me wanting s'mores.

And you thought, because I'm a broad, I'd make a wienie joke.

8-Track Sex Tracks

ECC of Dinosaur Gardens has posted the sixth and final installment of the series 8-Tracks of 69: Porno 8-tracks:

The phrase just doesn’t make sense to people when I first say it: Porno 8-track tapes. No, not videos — 8-track tapes, like from the 70’s. Audio only. No, not recordings of porno movie soundtracks. It’s like porno for the blind, or X-rated radio theater: improbable scenarios, occasional sound effects, awkward play-by-play of all the action. Arousing? Stilted? Downright hilarious? You decide.

Link includes, at the bottom, links to the previous five parts -- so go enjoy!

Via Fleshbot.

A Vintage Bumper Crop Of Boobies

This promo piece (measuring approximately 13.5 x 11.25 inches when fully opened), dating from late 1940's to early 50's, was from "your electrical contractor", and boy is it a hoot -- err, about hooters.

A Bumper Crop
by Sample Simon

Emil J. Weber
Your Electrical Contractor
San Francisco

I WANDERED IN THE GARDEN

I love fruit and in my time, I've
sampled varieties from many lands
and every clime.

In this little brochure I present hard,
but happily-won knowledge, some
gained on the campus, but none in
college.

Sample Simon

Then, once you lift the flap (you have to -- boobies beckon!), you get a billboard warning:

DO NOT
LOOK INSIDE

PROCEED ONLY AT YOUR OWN RISK

Apparently you, like I, are only more determined to see what our favorite electrical contractor, Mr. Weber, has selected to show us -- specifically, that which Simon has sampled.

Opened all the way we see 17 sketches of women whose breasts are clearly visible beneath clothing -- each depicting a specific form of produce...

Apricots I love or not --
Depending on what they've got.

Oranges so round--rich in Vitamin C
Are good for the vision.

Crab apples -- if not too green
Are a marvelous treat.

Cranberries -- every one really is
A delectable bite.

Give me luscious PLUMS and
Let me dream!

Nature with man her goodness shares
In the succulent PEARS.

Those ripe red CHERRIES
Hold hidden dangers.

Prune is a little flirt!
Gets in jams and desserts.

X-??? An experimental fruit
Yet undeveloped.

Cucumbers look harmless but --
Are they?

Cocoanuts--It takes plenty of paring
To reach this treat.

Many states of PEACHES fine.
But I'll take Georgia's any time.

Avocados are quite all right
For the "educated" appetite.

Honeydew I love to eat
Cause it's so naturally sweet.

Grapefruit is very "calorifc"
And big ones are terrific.

Watermelon -- AH.........
So big -- so satisfying!

Pumpkins -- when they're round and
Firm they're best of all.

After all...

Variety -- They Say --
Is The Spice of Life

So is vintage sexist advertising. *wink*

Playboy : Not Just For The Articles

Cartoonist Mike Lynch only reads Playboy for the cartoons -- and the ads. Well, at least that's what he tells people.



Via The Marketing Whore.

Time For An FAQ

Part of blog growth is a plethora of requests, oft requiring repeating yourself over & over again in emails. I hope this helps us all save some time...

Reviews:

I won't review sex toys, products or services which are personal here at this blog; so don't ask. I may review them at other sites -- under different pen names. Should this be of interest to you, email me. (Addy is on the sidebar & in my blogger profile.)

I will may review products and services which are related to this blog. These include books, films & publications on sexual history (including objects, icons, time periods etc.), as well as sites with similar themes, software for collectors, events for collectors/historians, etc. Contact me if you think you've got something 'very Silent Porn Star.'

Link Swaps/Reciprocal Links:

If you are a corporate site, or a site selling things -- especially those I wouldn't review, and 'all you want is a link swap', please note that I have no wish to (further) clutter the sidebar. I do understand pagerank et all; I just prefer to keep my readers in mind. I cannot link to 'everyone' so I offer BlogAds as an option for you.

Anyone else, feel free to link to the blog if you A) like it, and/or B) think your readers will like it. If you want a link back, feel free to ask; but I cannot promise (like Gracie says, it's limited floor space).

Also, if your blog is less than 3-4 months old, or with very little posting activity, you may want to wait to ask until you've got a more established blog.

Ads & Affiliates:

I use a very select number of affiliates. These are selected mainly for their inventory of older &/or more rare or historical inventory, and aside from Amazon (which honestly pays me in books), they are more shown off as I think of them. (And I'll admit, I occasionally watch those stats and see what you folks are interested in -- where I can, and when I can, I am reminded to post items from that category, time period etc.)

However, I am, in fact, quite often too forgetful (lazy?) to use affiliates etc. where I could. Ads are easier and better performing for us all. (Readers know those of you advertising like Silent Porn Star, so your ad dollar is like a vote -- hopefully readers will be returning the votes with dollars of their own.)

BlogAds has an excellent reputation, in no small part to very high CTRs, and if I can answer any questions for you about that, please let me know. Or go ahead and sign up here.

(Readers, I do personally approve each ad and decline unscrupulous companies/ads -- to the best of my ability. However, I am not responsible for those companies, offers or persons.)

Overall Notes On Money & The Blog:

I don't get rich from this; nor do I expect to. But I'm human and money is useful.

Frankly, funds raised serve as a kick in the behind to keep me posting. So if you like Silent Porn Star, support the advertisers. Really.

Writing:

As the sidebar says, I will neither write nor publish paid posts. That's Payolla & I'll have no part in it.

If you'd like me to write articles/post for your site/publication, please contact me. Due to time constraints I may not be able to, especially if it's short notice. (It's not just my 'big head', but I really do write professionally and deadlines are part of my life.) Paid gigs get preference, of course; but I do love small indie outfits too. I am happy to discuss my other writings with editors/publications who will respect & guard my privacy as well as knowledge of my pen names/writing credits.

Collecting News & Views

Norman Mailer passed away, and DeeDee (and others) share their thoughts on the ambitious writer whose giant ego oft overshadowed his written works.

Heidi Fleiss fluffs & folds to pass the time as she awaits the ability to open her Stud Farm (meanwhile, you gents can apply for a position with Heidi).

And lastly, from whence the image comes, Derek talks about the context of collecting music compilations. I note it because A) it furthers what I wrote about here, and B) it has the Promfumo scandal. (So I may just have to add that record to my collection.)

Featuring Eve Stropping!

Angela of Zen Fetish discovered a too-cute calendar gem:

But the big news today is that Burke has put together a calendar, just in time for Christmas gift-giving: The Lovely Mistresses of George W. Bush. What a unique gift and devilishly grand idea. I know quite a few people who would get a kick out of this. One will be my staunchly republican brother, who I like to zing for his political leanings every chance I get.

Featuring thirteen pin-up lovelies with names like Miss Appropriation and Miss Representation, the calendar is very tastefully done and office safe. Burke is donating a portion of the proceeds to Watchdog Organizations fighting corporate influence over our American government.

Destined to become a collectible!

Lingerie Falls Victim To The Black Hand

A victim of the black hand.--

Theochrom Seris 1225-26
Postmarked 1911

A woman finds the dreaded black hand mark on her dainties. Presumably a play on Black Hand extortion which was rumored to be the start of Italian crime and the start of the mafia.

However, Jay Robert Nash, in the World Encyclopedia of Organized Crime (p. 56) argues the Black Hand was a tactic, not an organized group:

The Black Hand, despite the wild claims of newsmen and yellow journalists to the contrary, was never a formal organization with any kind of international ties. The Black Hand was never a society (although a Black Hand Society did exist for hundreds of hears in Spain as an organization designed to help the needy and to fight invaders, but died out before 1900; another Black Hand Society originated in Serbia, a secret cabal designed to establish Serbian dominance in the Balkans). The Black Hand was never tied to any of the real secret societies or criminal conspiracies, such as the Camorra, the Mafia, or the Unicone Siciliane, even thought many members of these nefarious organizations practiced the sinister ways of the Black Hand. It was simply an extortion racket practiced upon decent citizens, first in Italy and Sicily as early as the 1750's, and later in the U.S., chiefly affecting Italian-Sicilan immigrants in major metropolitan areas, especially New York, New Orleans, Philadelphia, Detroit, Chicago, St. Louis, Kansas City, and San Francisco.

The racket was prosaic--and deadly. An anonymous Black Hander would threaten various types of violence to extort money from one, usually well-to-do, victim. These threats most often involved kidnapping a family member, threatening to blow up a business or shop, or to attack, injure, or kill a family member or the recipient of the Black Hand note. These notes were crudely written in broken English (in the U.S.) and boldly demanded a certain amount of money, with a specific instructions as to how the cash was to be delivered. The note would usually be decorated with a number of horrific symbols and images--daggers dripping blood, a bomb exploding, a gun smoking at the barrel, a skull and crossbones, a body dangling from a rope tied about the neck. The signature of the sender was invariably a hand imprinted in heavy black ink, thus the sobriquet, La Mano Nera (The Black Hand).

As for our lady with the hand printed lingerie, one can only imagine that this infers a different sort of blackmail or threat.

For more, see this article which uses the 1950 film, Black Hand (starring Gene Kelly as the Italian man seeking vengeance), to discuss the Armenian Black Hand.

Oh, Mother! I'm Wild!

Oh, Mother! I'm Wild! by Johnson, Howard, Harry Pease, and Eddie Nelson, 1920.



Use these lyrics to sing along with the MP3 of a more modern uke version sung by Brian Hefferan.

Oh, Mother! I'm Wild!

[Verse 1]

Percival Jones was a sweet little boy
All dressed up like a bundle of joy
Early to bed and early to rise
never made Percival very wise
'Cause after a month on Broadway
Here's what he wrote home today

[Chorus 1]

Oh, Mother! you wouldn't know your child
Oh, Mother! I'm getting awfully wild
I am drinking Coca-Cola now
On the level, I'm a little devil
Oh, Mother! you wouldn't want me home
cannibals compared to me are mild
I'm no more your peaceful little lamb
I shave most every day just like a man
I've thrown away my nighty and I wear a big pjam
Oh, Mother I'm Wild!

[Verse 2]

Percy went out to see a musical show
Got him a seat in the very first row
The girls on the stage started to shimmy and shake
Percy stood up and shouted "Goodness sake!"
Oh mother if you could just see
This is the life dear, for me!

[Chorus 2]

Oh, Mother! you wouldn't know your child
Oh, Mother! I'm getting awfully wild
I am reading dimestore novels now
Every minute, I just go the limit
Oh, Mother! you wouldn't want me home
cannibals compared to me are mild
Once I dined, stayed out 'till after ten
I bought some Cuban cigarettes and then
I stood out at the corner and I smoked with all the men
Oh, Mother I'm Wild!

[Verse 3]

...Once I went out to a swell affair
a lady asked me to do the shimmy there
I said I beg your pardon but that's something I don't wear
Oh, Mother I'm Wild!

Copies of (at least) the sheet music can be found at eBay.

For more, see theBilly Jones recording for Aeolian-Vocalion in 1919.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Today's obligatory vintage nude features a gal with penguin pals. (Insert "Happy Feet" joke here.)

Context Is The New Bullshit

Yoni Stern, on the matter of the Guardian and its sister title, the Observer, launching a searchable digital archive (which will soon contain all the copies of the papers from their first issues in 1821 and 1791), said:

A newspaper today might be full of bullshit, but it's all a part of the history of culture - the bullshit, too, no less than the reality. You can't get that from history books.

I don't think it is correct to say you can't get that from history books, but rather that history books -- or more pointedly, history text books -- often do lack context.

Context is the bullshit, the stuff which is, in truth, The Reality. More than facts, such as this fire happened, this law was passed, the stock market crashed, etc. on such-and-such dates, the culture is what people were saying, selling, spewing. What leads did the police have on the fire, what motives did they suspect? Why? Why were people passing the laws they did? That ad for frocks -- did hemlines rise as the stocks fell? That's the culture, that's the context, that's the bullshit.

As Maya Angelou said, "There's a world of difference between truth and facts. Facts can obscure the truth."

And now, because you've paid attention to your history lesson, enjoy today's sexual contextual bullshit from the roaring 20's.


Newspaper clipping, dated December 4, 1924. It reads:

Nude Display Unnecessary

Dade City, Fla

Many of the younger generation are coming on laboring under the mistaken idea that the quick way to gain popularity is to make a generous showing of their legs. I still believe that modesty in a woman is a cardinal virtue and that men, as a whole, have a deep respect for women who are becomingly attired. The Gish girls, Mae Marsh, Alice Joyce, Lois Wilson and others are exceedingly popular, and they didn't attain that popularity by an unseemly nude display of their bodies. And who is it that does not love them? They are grand beyond compare.

G.W. Walker

Finding The Parents' Stash

Secondhand Rose recalls her first exposure to adult magazines:

I must have been about 10 years old or so when I found my parents stash of porn. My sister and I were home alone, playing hide-and-seek in the house. I went to hide in the one space I knew she'd never find me -- the one space I'd also be afraid to seek in for fear of a person jumping out at me -- our crawlspace.

...After a few heart-pounding minutes in the arid space, I turned on the light (which could never shine through to the other side as the door fit tightly and it was daytime anyway) and looked for something to occupy myself. I poked in the box closest to the door. That's where I found the then-current porn magazines.

I flipped through them, saw all the photos. Mostly women with their come-hither stares, big and wild hair (both on their heads and covering their genitals), and glossy lips. I didn't feel much of anything at first. Certainly not uncomfortable, for I continued to flip through the pages of first one magazine, then another and another. Until I hit an illustration.

I think it was an advertisement for a bondage swing, but I can't really recall... This paper-white woman with ink-black hair was set against a vivid purple square. Her fascinating red lips were pursed around a ridiculously large black circle, its black lines drawn against that white-white skin, holding the ball in place in her mouth. Her body was also bound in the leather strips, providing more black lines against white skin -- lines to read between. This woman was bound, apparently suspended from what I could only imagine was a ceiling painted as grape as the walls, and naked she sat, or swung, on display in a position similar to my sit-squat against the wall. Splayed. Bound. Gagged.

Instead of being disgusted, or even confused, I was mesmerized.

Photo via Flickr.

Cultivating: Waist Places & Waste Places

Turn of the century (1900's) postcard featuring one man between two women, his arms about the waists of each. Text reads: Cultivating the "Waist" Places.--

Theochrom Serie 1230-56, printed in the U.S.

A humorous play on waste lands, those lands which have not yet been made property but which may be reduced to that condition, be it the desire of an individual or a group (a country or politician in the name of colonization, for example, or a religious group in the name of God). All of which fall under the category of sheer greed.

The issues of waste lands, conquest, emigration, war, and dominion as ordained by God were quite fascinating to folks in the late 1800's and early 1900's.

For more, see The Rights of War and Peace, including the Law of Nature and of Nations, translated from the Original Latin of Grotius, with Notes and illustrations from Political and Legal Writers, by A.C. Campbell, A.M. with an Introduction by David J. Hill (New York: M. Walter Dunne, 1901).

See also, The Waste Places (1915),a poem by Irish poet James Stephens (1882-1950) as well as Eli Siegel's Beginning with Psychiatric Terms: An Aesthetic Realism Consideration (1966) in which the poem is an allegory for ethical unconscious.

The US Constitution Erotic Coloring Book

The US Constitution Erotic Coloring Book, by Donny Miller:

This book is raw. Limited edition book. Donny Miller did this one because it’s important that people read The Constitution and more than that so why not make it fun and full of naked girls that you can color?

Info On Collecting Vintage Risque Items

Over at CQ:

A review of Classic Images magazine.

And did you know that famed horse illustrator/author C.W. Anderson did risque works too?

Porn Parody of "The Brady Bunch"

Here's the non-graphic trailer:



And here's a review of the film.