This will hurt me...

I snapped this US military jeep parked outside of the corner store just up from Opossum Bay a few weeks back. You can see that it's a left hand drive (hence the special plates), and is no doubt the proud possession of some middle aged collector who takes some pride in his good fortune. Thus, we were intrigued to see the jeep piloted by six shirtless metrosexual teenage boys enjoying an incredibly homoerotic exciting game of "grab each other's ice cream" as they cavorted their way back to the jeep (sans seatbelts, of course). What would e.e. say? why must itself up every of a park , by E. E. Cummings why must itself up every of a park anus stick some quote statue unquote to prove that a hero equals any jerk who was afraid to dare to answer "no"? quote citizens unquote might otherwise forget(to err is human;to forgive divine)that if the quote state unquote says "kill" killing is an act of christian love. "Nothing" in 1944 AD "can stan...

So here we have yet another mercilessly bleak wartime recruitment poster from that war that we had because that war that we had that was supposed to end all wars really didn’t and what it actually did was set up the preconditions for another, bigger war. Yeah, that war. Now, when it comes to war, I can see the attraction of a) going off to defend your country, c) being embarrassed by girls , c) impressing the ladies , d) being nagged by greedy women, e) plain old fashioned ignorance , f) getting fired up because the other guys are a bunch of rotters and scoundrels , or even g) have a bit of adventure, see the world, meeting interesting people and killing them in all sorts of interesting ways. However, when push comes to shove, it’s best not to let me know what I’m really getting myself into before you have my name on the dotted line. Seriously, I’d see this poster and feel sorry for the poor bloke, but c’mon, the dude doesn’t have any hands ! As the kids at the bus stop say, that sh...

Lest we forget amidst the adulation for all things Henry that I have another son, dear little Ezra ™, who is his own man and who is just as chic, clever, inimitable and downright handsome as his older brother with the cult following. Like Ezra, I am the second (and youngest) child in the family. I understand being second off the rank can sometimes translate into second in the mind. Being second can be a tricky business and intend to help guide the little one through the trials and tribulations that inevitably accompany such a burden. So I have posted this photograph of the sweetest little man of the house, to let him know that in my eyes he will always be equal first to me, never second.

I would advise all of my dear readers to take the take, click on today's advertisment, and have a good hard think about what it says. All of this time I had thought that it was the average fighting Joes who won the Second World War. Hardcore Marines storming beaches, heroic air crews dropping bombs surrounded by flak, the oft-overlooked merchant seaman chugging away on ships dodging treacherous seas (and even deadlier) submarines the whole time simply to get life’s pure essentials (which, apparently, did not include bananas but plenty of bombs) from point A to point A . Naively – damn fool that I am – I thought that it was the fearless Soviet troops thrusting towards Berlin, the countless riveting Rosies pumping away day and night in factories, the old dears knitting socks for the care packages for the valiant lads wasting away in Colditz, and the kids who dreamed of nothing more than bayoneting some heartless Fritz or Jap until his last twitch ceased. Hell, I thought that it mi...

The always excellent The History Blog this morning alerted me to a really interest project that sets about memorialising the Holocaust through the use of collected mail that offers an incredible, if disturbingly banal hint into the everyday workings of the events in Central and Eastern Europe during World War Two. As I’m always keen to encourage online efforts to present history in new and engaging ways, I’m more than happy to endorse this one. For mine, there is often no better way to emphasise the magnitude of an event than through personal, sometimes mundane, sometimes heart-wrenching, correspondence. The Spungen Family Foundation, through the Illinois Holocaust Museum and Education Center, have put a collection of such documents in viewable pdf form online . Again, it’s well worth a click and browse.

A week ago know I wrote of wartime propaganda and its role in recruitment drives. Now, I was bold enough then to suggest that the old “ irate guy with a bullet in his head ” approach may not be the wisest or most successful tactic. Here we can see a far more effective approach: question their manhood . The logic here is clear: if they could, girls (dirty, stinkin’ broads!) would get out there and slaughter krauts and japs all day long. Unfortunately, steadfast patriarchal structures limit the opportunities for our feminine friends to get blood on their hands. That leaves it to men . Big, tough, hairy-chested MEN to do the job. What’s that? You don’t wanna kill japs and krauts? What are ya? Some kinda fairy...?

You may well be familiar with the maxim “sex sells”. It is a feature of advertising as old as the craft itself, I would suspect. Indeed, I have featured a number of vintage advertisements on this here very blog over the past six months. You might remember Lolita on the comfy bed ; or, Girl next door likes to suck on the most disguising things (and enjoys it!). Who could forget Hot babe in bikini lounges on the beach slowly cooking, but becoming ever more beautiful ; a clean home = frisky husband ; or (a favourite of my Church of Latter Day Saints-splinter group friends) he has a nice tie and a couple of girls on the go . Of course, there is the good old “ treat her mean and keep her keen ” approach; the brusqueness of a beautiful, proud Soviet cock standing to attention ; and the sexy through the ages “ hot babes with even hotter lawnmowers ”. So, despite this technique being as common as the little minx that can be found in the first link, it still jars me ever so slightly to see i...