Sabrina covers her biggest assets.
Every once in a while we run across stories about Hollywood stars insuring their body parts. A couple of examples: Bette Davis was famous for her small waist and insured it against weight gain for the equivalent of $400,000; and 1920s comedian Ben Turpin, who was famously cross-eyed, took out a policy of similar value should his eyes ever straighten. National Enquirer insists on this cover from today in 1960 that British starlet Sabrina, aka Norma Ann Sykes, insured her breasts. The tabloid is in fact correct—she allowed her manager Joe Matthews to insure her endowment with Lloyd's of London for £UK100,000. In today's cash that would be about £2.4 million, or $3.2 million. You may think that's excessive, but when's the last time your boobs caused a riot? Unfortunately the weight she carried on her torso led to chronic back pain and a failed attempt at a surgical fix that left her in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. She died in obscurity last year. It was a sad ending for the former sex symbol. But once upon a time she was a one-name star—just Sabrina—and a global obsession.
The public adored watching her. And she adored watching quite a few of them too.
Diana Dors was marketed as Britain's answer to Marilyn Monroe. It was probably an unfair comparison, because Monroe was a unique talent. Dors was talented in her own right, but her time in show business was turbulent. There were brawls, a divorce, reporters who broke into her home, the loss of a studio contract due to a morality clause, and eventually the stunning revelation that she hosted parties at which she used two-way mirrors and closed circuit television to watch guests having sex. These wild parties began in the early 1950s and continued for many years. And later, long after her death of ovarian cancer in 1984, came accusations that she was a pedophile. But we judge her artistic output separate from her crimes (see: Polanski). Her movies remain worth watching. This shot of her is circa 1960.
Sokol's racy cartoons gave Playboy a touch of—well, maybe class isn't the word—but something.
It's nice to have friends that like Pulp Intl. We had a visitor not long ago who brought us some pages he'd clipped from old Playboy magazines. It was an unsolicited and much appreciated gift. This friend is an animator in Hollywood, so he has a keen interest in the work of British cartoonist Erich Sokol, who was one of the best visual humorists regularly published in Playboy. Sokol's mission was simple—try to be artful and funny, while discussing sex in an entertaining way. His style is distinct—curvaceous women with wide, archer's bow mouths, men with long noses and often baffled expressions, and, compared to other cartoonists, deep dimensionality and color in the backgrounds.
Sokol was a wit off the page as well. Friends and acquaintances describe him as a bigtime partier who dreamt up much of his material while drinking in bars. As with any vintage humor his gags are hit and miss today. After five decades that's no surprise. Time can be a humor killer—we made a quip earlier today and it was stale before we even finished it. In any case, when Sokol's humor falls flat it's still cute, at least as far as we're concerned. Our girlfriends might feel differently. Six of these cartoons are original scans, and we augmented the group with examples we found online. We also enlarged the text to make it more easily readable. Enjoy, and keep an eye out for more Sokol, because we plan to revisit him a bit later.
The day just got a whole lot brighter.
Above, a promo photo of British actress Dawn Addams, who appeared in films such as The Unknown Man and The Robe, seen here circa 1950.
She's ready to go anywhere her legs take her.
British actress Veronica Carlson's first screen role was an uncredited bit in Casino Royale, and her latest role is in 2018's upcoming House of the Gorgon. In between she became well known as a regular player in various Hammer Studios horror films. The above promo image was made when she appeared on the British television series The Saint. She looks a bit sinful, though, don't you think. Copyright 1969.
The most important safety precaution is to make sure the chamber on this baby is empty, or else disaster can—BANG!
The U.K. imprint Panther Books had some tasty covers during the mid-1950s, including this pretty effort by John Vernon for Dashiell Hammett's Red Harvest. We gave it a read and it involves Hammett's recurring character, a Continental Detective Agency operative, aka the Continental Op, being hired by a newspaper publisher who turns up dead before the two can meet. The subsequent investigation lifts the lid on corruption in a small town called Personville—but which locals call Poisonville. Hammett was a very solid genre author, with a spare, raw style, like this, from chapter seven:
It was half-past five. I walked around a few blocks until I came to an unlighted electric sign that said Hotel Crawford, climbed a flight of steps to the second floor office, registered, left a call for ten o'clock, was shown into a shabby room, moved some of the Scotch from my flask into my stomach, and took old Elihu's ten-thousand dollar check and my gun to bed with me.
After reading dozens of other (still very entertaining) authors since we last hefted a Hammett it was good to be reminded just how efficiently brutal he was. While the story is spiced up by a wisecracking femme fatale named Dinah Brand, the main element in Red Harvest is violence—a storm of it. By the end of the bloody reaping there are more than twenty five killings, as one player after another is knocked off. We rate Red Harvest the most lethal detective novel we've ever read. It was first published in 1929, with the above edition appearing in 1958.
The film stars a Barker—and that's also a good description of this dog.
This poster, which you will see when you scroll down is two sided, folded into four panels, was made for Battles of Chief Pontiac, a film starring Lex Barker in a story of war between the French and British over what is now the vicinity of Detroit, Michigan. Within this larger fight, Ottawa tribes mount a resistance against the occupying British and their German, or Hessian, mercenaries. This resistance is seriously hampered after the Ottawa are suckered into a peace parlay, then deliberately given blankets infected with smallpox. Treachery much, paleface? Why, yes, all the time.
Throughout all the battles and betrayals hero Lex Barker—the only noble white character—speaks in a neutral American accent that didn't exist 200 years ago, while the supporting white players do their best evil nazi and pompous Brit dialects. This is a nice little trick, portraying all the bad guys as essentially foreign. Never mind that the U.S. is made up of descendents of those colonists, and Barker's character is a colonist too. In cinematic terms it's a deft, almost subliminal job of blame shifting. That the film also showed overseas, where accents would have been lost on audiences, thus making it play more like a broad indictment of colonial expansionism, is an irony.
Until we shared today's poster there was never any indication anywhere online that Battles of Chief Pontiac played in Japan, but the evidence is clear in this butterscotch promo—which is far more artistic than the film. Yes, this Barker vehicle is a total dog. Avoid it, except for its comedy potential—that is, if watching pasty white guys in brown shoe polish is funny. Battles of Chief Pontiac premiered in the U.S. today in 1952, and according to the poster, hit Japan in 1956. You see the right half of the front side, and the entire rear just below.
MI5 files reveal another compromising John Profumo affair.
An interesting report came out of Great Britain earlier today about John Profumo, the disgraced Secretary of State for War who resigned in 1963 after it emerged that he was having an affair with Christine Keeler, who also had sexual ties to a Russian intelligence officer. When authorities learned of the potential security threat, Profumo was interrogated, at which point he denied involvement with Keeler. When his denial was found to be false, he resigned amid the spiraling scandal.
Now MI5 files have revealed that Profumo had a previous affair with a Nazi spy who may have tried to blackmail him. The woman was named Gisela Klein, and she and Profumo met at Oxford University in 1936 when he was an undergrad. During World War II she began working for Nazi intelligence, and after the war was imprisoned as a spy. However the American in charge of her jail got her released and married her. As Gisela Winegard she maintained contact with Profumo after he entered politics, and he allegedly wrote letters to her on House of Commons stationery.
There's no evidence Profumo knew about his old flame's Nazi connections, but he may have learned of her blackmail schemes by becoming a target. In 1951 Winegard was living in Tangier with her husband when she applied for a visa to visit Britain and listed “Jack Profumo MP” as a reference.
Observers are speculating whether Profumo may have been under pressure to help push her application through. But the visa was eventually refused because of Winegard's Nazi past, with the head of British intelligence in Tangier also noting: “We have good reason to believe Mr. and Mrs. Winegard have recently engaged in blackmailing activities and now think it is possible their intended visit to the UK may be connected with this affair.”
Since we've mentioned the Profumo Affair several times, we found this to be an interesting footnote, especially in light of the ongoing U.S. Justice Department investigation into White House connections to Russian operatives. It's curious that Profumo's affairs would twice send him orbiting so close to spies of adversarial countries, but it doesn't seem as if the Klein/Winegard connection will produce any real smoking gun in terms of improper favors. As for Trump and Russia, that remains to be seen. You can read some previous posts on the infamous Profumo Affair here, here, and here.
Who says they don't have any worth?
London born actress Penny Brahms looks like a million bucks—that's one hundred million pennies—in this shot that appeared in the French magazine Moi. Brahms had a forgettable film career—her most noted roles were a brief appearance in 2001: A Space Odyssey and a co-starring turn in the sexploitation flick Lady Chatterly Versus Fanny Hill—but she looks like the biggest star in the firmament in this great shot. It's from 1970.
You, sir, are no Steve Austin.
Mike Power, aka the Atomic Man, originated with the Hasbro toy company in the mid-1970s as part of its G.I. Joe Adventure Team. Power was born disabled. He spent his life developing atomic parts for his body, including a leg that helped him run 200 miles per hour, an arm that lifted 10,000 pounds, an eye that could see through six feet of solid steel, and an atomic heart to help him handle all the exertion. As you have probably guessed, Hasbro created him as competition for Kenner's Six Million Dollar Man action figure, but this one was going for around sixty dollars. We've seen cheaper ones that come without a box.
Power was also low rent in the sense that he never had a television show like the Six Million Dollar Man, but Hasbro put out a comic, and those are collector's items today. There were actually two versions of Power. Here you see the British version, which was manufactured by Palitoy, and the main difference was Power's plastic hair was replaced by a flocked hairdo that looked like a white guy ’fro. Below you see what Power is packing under his jumpsuit (“Daddy, why doesn't he have a wiener?” “Well son, that's because Atomic Man had it cut off when he became what's called a eunuch. Bled like a pig, he did.”). You can see a couple more entries on vintage dolls here and here. And if you're into futuristic toy ray guns, check here.
The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1934—Queen Mary Launched
The RMS Queen Mary, three-and-a-half years in the making, launches from Clydebank, Scotland. The steamship enters passenger service in May 1936 and sails the North Atlantic Ocean until 1967. Today she is a museum and tourist attraction anchored in Long Beach, U.S.A.
1983—Nuclear Holocaust Averted
Soviet military officer Stanislav Petrov, whose job involves detection of enemy missiles, is warned by Soviet computers that the United States has launched a nuclear missile at Russia. Petrov deviates from procedure, and, instead of informing superiors, decides the detection is a glitch. When the computer warns of four more inbound missiles he decides, under much greater pressure this time, that the detections are also false. Soviet doctrine at the time dictates an immediate and full retaliatory strike, so Petrov's decision to leave his superiors out of the loop very possibly prevents humanity's obliteration. Petrov's actions remain a secret until 1988, but ultimately he is honored at the United Nations.
2002—Mystery Space Object Crashes in Russia
In an occurrence known as the Vitim Event, an object crashes to the Earth in Siberia and explodes with a force estimated at 4 to 5 kilotons by Russian scientists. An expedition to the site finds the landscape leveled and the soil contaminated by high levels of radioactivity. It is thought that the object was a comet nucleus with a diameter of 50 to 100 meters.
1992—Sci Fi Channel Launches
In the U.S., the cable network USA debuts the Sci Fi Channel, specializing in science fiction, fantasy, horror, and paranormal programming. After a slow start, it built its audience and is now a top ten ranked network for male viewers aged 18–54, and women aged 25–54.
It's easy. We have an uploader that makes it a snap. Use it to submit your art, text, header, and subhead. Your post can be funny, serious, or anything in between, as long as it's vintage pulp. You'll get a byline and experience the fleeting pride of free authorship. We'll edit your post for typos, but the rest is up to you. Click here
to give us your best shot.