Sucked To Death

As a child I had a morbid fear of quicksand. I'd probably watched too many Tarzan films*, and PIF's like 'Keep A Grid On It', a warning about the dangers of children dying in grain pits ('drowning without water') didn't help. Come to think of it, as an adult I'm still pretty scared of quicksand AND grain pits, I'm just wise enough to know that if I don't go looking for that sort of danger, it certainly won't coming looking for me.

*There is no such thing as too many Tarzan films.

Dracula, Prince of Deadness

It's a convention of vampire films that Dracula starts dead, and ends up dead. In Hammer productions he is usually ended by a member of the Van Helsing family, but his nemesis can also be a callow youth or a monk who likes to warm his arse on an open fire. In 'Taste The Blood Of Dracula' he just gets giddy from being in a church and falls off a ledge. Fact is, Dracula is very much a bully. He's cock of the walk when biting young, vulnerable girls, but he crumbles when faced with any real opposition. Literally. That said, he'll be back. He always comes back.  

RIP, Sir Christopher, you pompous old marvel. See you again soon.

Keep It Broken!

While we're thinking about shotguns, rural settings and sudden, violent death, remember --

'A gun should be broken and unloaded whenever it's not being fired, and especially when getting through a fence or over any obstacle. If you don't follow the rules, sooner or later there'll be a - BANG! - tragedy'.

Look at the geezer being shot. Is it just me, or is he hamming it up a bit?

R.I.P, E.P

It comes to us all, of course, but this is a bit much. From 'Epic'.

Interesting Postcards

The Crooked House,

Himley,

Nr. Wolverhampton,

Staffordshire.

These are very early Edwardian postcards, the second one being postmarked 1902, the first taking its detail from an item in 'T.P's Weekly' originally published on June 17th, 1904. It says it all so much better than I could, so here it is in full:  

Near the eastate of Earl Dudley, at Himley, there is a very curious habitation known as 'The Crooked House'. It is a red brick building with a wide passage right through, leading to back premises. It is altogether out of the perpendicular, and slanted towards the south end, which is heavily shored up with thick red buttresses. Some part of the outer wall is buried several feet in the ground.

These peculiarities are the result of mining operations - the under-stratum of the earth is these parts being completely 'honeycombed'. It is as difficult to walk steadily through the doorway as to pace the deck of a vessel in a rolling sea. as you walk along the warped floor your head and shoulders lean very palpably across the passage, and to maintain the equilibrium is a matter of the greatest difficulty. The rooms of the house are equally out of joint, and present some remarkable optical illusions.

The clocks on the walls, although absolutely perpendicular, as their pendulums testify, appear to be hanging sideways at a very pronounced angle. A short glass shelf, one end of which appears to be a foot higher than the other, proves to be absolutely level, while in the tap room, is a table which is apparently slanting, but on which if round marbles are placed at the seemingly lower end they roll to all appearance uphill to the top of the table, and fall over with a bump. These do not exhaust the remarkable features of this curious tenement, but those quoted fully justify its title to the name of 'The Crooked House'.  

Remarkably, despite modern ideas about about Health & Safety, The Crooked House is still in situ and, even better, it's now a pub!

The back of this postcard threw up one of those haunting messages from the past that collectors sometimes find. It's not terribly clear, but it appears to say: 

Dear Aunty, am sorry to tell you that Frank was killed on Thursday and is going to be buried at at Pensnett on Tuesday at 3.30.' 

I can't really read the rest, but it signs off 'love to all'. Fancy using a postcard of a Crooked House to convey all of that pain. Over a hundred years later, it still hurts to read.

World Of Wax

More from the wacky 'World Of Wax'. Here, a redundant model is melted down. There's something unspeakably awful about its slow dissolution, especially as it is so realistic. I don't know who the model is, but I would guess at him being the leader of a fifties Communist country,  perhaps one who ended up being deposed and murdered, maybe beheaded and melted down. It would be chilling, if it obviously wasn't at such a high temperature, and the heads impassive expression throughout adds an extra layer of horror.    

You Can't Argue With A Car

All I can say is 'oof'. The rest is your lookout.

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter and, if you are a crash test egg, please remember to take the proper precautions.

Room For One

Mining can be a depressing, deadly business, and in 'Room For One' (1976) the National Coal Board take their private information films into 'Seventh Seal' territory.

F*** Me, It's Freddie!

FMIF as Sir George Uproar in the melancholy 'The Ghosts Of Motley Hall' (1976-1978), a sort of Rent-A-Ghost scripted by Ibsen.

Wish You Were Here

'One Way Trip' is another macabre midget gem from those morbid geniuses at the National Coal Board. I love its strange combination of bizarre fantasy sci fi imagery and tourism cliches, and the sting at the end is nicely done. A fair point well made.

Indestructible

A selection of end credit art from 'Captain Scarlet and The Mysterons'. As a normal, healthy, bloodthirsty child these would always cause me to scurry away to my pencils and paper, eager to recreate these perilous situations, as well as inventing my own, usually involving crocodiles. I was always running out of red pens for some reason. 

Spectrum Is Green

'Captain Scarlet and The Mysterons' featured even more stylish hardware than its predecessor 'Thunderbirds', all absolutely integral to the plot and ready to be die cast by Corgi and sold to kids in their millions.