Vintage News Articles & Finds

[billycw]

"...that crazy fella that's a runnin' it....They say he ain't scared of nothing. If he wants a picture of a lion, he just goes up to him and tells him to look pleasant."

-dock watchman, King Kong 1933

Captain Merian C. Cooper - 1918


It was Beauty that killed the beast!

Let me tell you a tale of an American badass!

Flying a plane called the ‘The Flaming Coffin’ during World War 1, American Merian C. Cooper was deep over German lines...

Highly outnumbered in a dogfight, his Co-pilot is shot threw the neck by enemy fire crippling his plane in flames...

As his planes fire burnt, a blast burns the front of his body including his face and hands. Badly injured, he tries to talk to his copilot who is unconscious and he fears already dead...

Having no parachute, but out of options, he climbs onto his planes bi wing...

About to in his own words "Free Ball" it (i.e jump without parachute from a burning plane high over land) he hears a voice...

Its his Copilot... Alive......

Knowing if he jumps its certain death for his friend, he climbs back into the plane...

Unable to grab the controls with his severely burned hands, he crash lands the burning plane with his elbows and knees...

Both men survive the burning crash only to be taken prisoner by the Germans and taken to a German Prisoner of War camp.

When WW1 finally ends he is released from the German POW camp.

Awarded the Distinguished Service Cross he refused, saying...

“We all took the same risks”

Captain Merian C. Cooper poses with an unknown officer next to a Kościuszko Squadron plane of Italian origin.


Staying in Europe after he is released from Germany, he chooses to join the Polish Air Force when Russia invades Poland...

Flying against the Russians, he successfully flies over 70 missions. The Bolsheviks, hearing of his heroics, even put a price on his head...

He is eventually shot down, for a second time, deep inside Russian lines...

Presumed killed in action, he is taken prisoner by the Bolsheviks...

They take him all the way to Moscow to one of the worst work camps of the time...

Not happy with his current predicament he escapes the camp... Only to be captured 5 days later...

In 1920 Poland wins their independence, Russia releases the POW's from his brutal work camp, but there is a problem...

He is an American, not Polish like the rest of the POW's at the camp... So they keep him to rot...

Plotting it takes him 1 1/2 years of planning. Along with 2 of his friends from the camp, he somehow manages to escapes from the camp a second time...

Taking 2 weeks of grueling travel through hostile enemy land,the 3 escapees finally make it to freedom at the Latvia border...

Cooper With ZumbachFeric


He was awarded ‘Cross of the Brave’. Polands highest honor for his fight for their freedom...

Grateful for his service to their country upon his escape, the Polish Government tries to give him money and land in Poland.

He refused saying "he didn’t want to profit off the war"...

'The Escapees' Cooper and the escapees from the Russian prisoner of war work camp

 

[billycw]

Soon after his storybook escape, Cooper starts to film silent movies. In 1925 he starts to film "Grass", filming the Bakhtiari tribe of Persia (now Iran) making their annual migration.

1925 silent movie 'Grass'


The movie opens with directors Cooper and Schoedsack smoking water pipes with tribesmen...

Opening scene from the 1925 silent movie, 'Grass'


The fun even continued behind the scenes in this fun foreign land...

Cooper, Harrison and Schoedsack, smoking waterpipes behind the scene's of filming 'Grass' 1925


Later at the height of the depression, he decides to make a huge blockbuster on a scale untried, called King Kong...

With no backers for the huge film, he "borrows" studio equipment, sets and actors to shoot a test reel of his movie in the middle of the night, it works and history is made...

Director Merian C. Cooper Tells Fay Wray the Story of King Kong, promotional shoot for King Kong - 1933


He created a larger then life Character known the world over, the only creature he could think of large enough to cover his badass footsteps in history...

Merian C. Cooper - promotional shoot for King Kong - 1933

 

[heady blunts]

awesome

 

[billycw]

Glad your digging it Heady, all I can do is throw the seed.

"The Sower" - Vincent Van Gogh 1888

 

[billycw]

"Uncle Ben (Durham) - Breaking Hemp - Season 1906-7"

Man placing hemp in wooden device, burning hemp to left, notation Uncle Ben (Durham) - Breaking Hemp - Season 1906-7 - University of Kentucky collection

Love this photo...

 

[Betterhaff]

View Image
"The Sower" - Vincent Van Gogh 1888

There you Gogh again.

 

[billycw]

Love me a good pun Betterhaff my memory is well behind my imagination, definitely one of my favorite Gogh's

 

[billycw]

Los Angeles Times
Sept. 8, 1948
Article: $20,000 worth of marijuana harvested, burned


Possible first use of the term "Tree's"... Dude's even puffing a pipe as he yanks the plants to burn.


Los Angeles Times -Sept. 8, 1948

Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Deputy Dwight Smith drags a load of marijuana from a roadside patch in Rosemead. The plants were later burned.

A story in the next morning’s L.A. Times reported:

Marijuana valued at $20,000 went up in smoke yesterday — but not puff by puff.

An even dozen “trees” of the narcotic weed, some as high as 10 feet, were burned by Lt. Ray Huber and other members of the Sheriff’s narcotic squad and Federal Agent George R. Davis.

Apparently growing wild, the stuff was gathered from two places–beside the fence of a slaughterhouse at Rush St. and Loma Ave., Rosemead, and in an alley behind 6800 Alameda St.

Lt. Huber disclosed that the narcotic squad’s attention was first called to the Rosemead marijuana patch two weeks ago. Since then, he said, there has been a “stake-out” there to nab anyone who attempted to harvest it. When no suspicious characters appeared, it was decided to destroy it under Federal supervision as required by law.

 

[_tessarecting]

Great thread billycw. One of my favs on icmag.

I've been having fun making things look Van Goghy lately:

 

[billycw]

Humbled tessarecting, stalk the hell out of your outdoor thread, love your nature pic's. Digging those Van Goghian mixes, app? Thanks for sharing, enjoyed.

Plenty of room in the circle Waxitaxi, Welcome aboard.

1913 Velvet tobacco ad, pulled from the 'Evening star', June 29, 1913

 

[billycw]

"To see a world in a grain of sand
and heaven in a wild flower.
Hold infinity in the palms of your hand
and eternity in an hour."

- William Blake

Laughing man wearing hat holding hemp - Believe this to be Uncle Ben from post 465, even see the hemp smoke in the background, hence the laughter 1906-07

 

[Betterhaff]

An inspiration.

 

[billycw]

Goodwin's weekly : a thinking paper for thinking people,
March 15, 1919
Article: WW1 joke

The old 'hempen necktie' trick...

 

[Mrs.Babba]

Soon after his storybook escape, Cooper starts to film silent movies. In 1925 he starts to film "Grass", filming the Bakhtiari tribe of Persia (now Iran) making their annual migration.

View Image
1925 silent movie 'Grass'


The movie opens with directors Cooper and Schoedsack smoking water pipes with tribesmen...

View Image
Opening scene from the 1925 silent movie, 'Grass'


The fun even continued behind the scenes in this fun foreign land...

View Image
Cooper, Harrison and Schoedsack, smoking waterpipes behind the scene's of filming 'Grass' 1925


Later at the height of the depression, he decides to make a huge blockbuster on a scale untried, called King Kong...

With no backers for the huge film, he "borrows" studio equipment, sets and actors to shoot a test reel of his movie in the middle of the night, it works and history is made...


View Image
Director Merian C. Cooper Tells Fay Wray the Story of King Kong, promotional shoot for King Kong - 1933


He created a larger then life Character known the world over, the only creature he could think of large enough to cover his badass footsteps in history...

View Image
Merian C. Cooper - promotional shoot for King Kong - 1933

I love the smile on the the little boy in the second picture,he looks so happy!
Can you find that movie grass on line or any where, I would love to watch that?

 

[billycw]

I love the smile on the the little boy in the second picture,he looks so happy!
Can you find that movie grass on line or any where, I would love to watch that?

Link to watch it online 'Grass (1925)' they say '24

http://naturedocumentaries.org/2635/grass/

 

[billycw]

What is P.A. you ask?

Why that's Pipe Appeal, the swinging style no lady can resist, Pipe Appeal!...

Prince Albert tobacco: Pipe Appeal advertisement 1940's

 

[Mrs.Babba]

Thanks billy, I'll check that out!

 

[billycw]

Smoking Pipe of Peace at Grass Dance. N. A. Forsyth (Butte, Mont.) 1900-1908

A stereoscope card showing a Blackfeet Peace Pipe ceremony at a Grass Dance in Montana. photograph by Thomas B. Magee

 

[billycw]

Super bowl

 

[billycw]

"What signal?" The captain pointed towards the island, up the side of which ascended a volume of smoke, increasing as it rose. "Ah, yes," he said, as if awaking from a dream. "Give it to me."

-Alexandre Dumas, the Count of Monte Cristo

`A grateful world to the dealer in happiness.'

We meet another member of the 'Club des Hashischins', Alaxandre Dumas...

That's right, one of the most cherished writers of the 19th century, was also a Hashischin club member.

Meeting between 1844 and 1849, the 'Club des Hashischins' would meet at the Hôtel de Lauzun in Paris and drink the concoctions Dr Moreau would mix up.

"…ritualistically garbed in Arab clothing, they drank strong coffee, liberally laced with hashish, which Moreau called dawamesk, in the Arabic manner. It looked, reported the members, like a greenish preserve, its ingredients a mixture of hashish, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, pistachio, sugar, orange juice, butter and cantharides."

the Hôtel de Lauzun in Paris


The name Alexandre Dumas not ring a bell to you?... Maybe you would recognize a couple of his works?

The Three Musketeers, The Man in the Iron Mask, The Nutcracker to name a few...

But what I'd like to discuss is his writing, 'The Count of Monte Cristo'...

I'm not even going into the bs abridgement version.

The 1844 Alexandre Dumas tale 'The Count of Monte Cristo'


Here we have one of Dumas's great works, the classic tale of revenge.

For those not familiar with the tale, we have our main character Edmond Dantès. He is screwed over by his best friend for his girl. With others help the friend has him charged with treason and murder and sent to rot in a dungeon of a prison on an island. They tell everyone he is executed...

So locked to die in a dark cell, he meets another inmate that teaches him to read, write, arts, how to fight, and also the location of a secret treasure all the while plotting escape and revenge...

After many years he manages to escape & taken in by smugglers. He finds the hidden treasure, and assumes a alter ego, The Count of Monte Cristo...

This sets his plans of revenge in motion and is the basis for the book, amazing read by the way.

But what brings this tale to our attention is when a friend of his X best friend's son(his x girl married his best friend and had a boy) Franz, visits the Island Dante plots revenge from...

After arriving on a known smugglers island, Franz meets a mysterious stranger that calls himself 'Sinbad the Sailer' aka Dante...

Not wanting to give up his real identity(already known to Dante) Franz calls himself Aladin. Eating an amazing opulent meal on a deserted island deep in a 'Sinbad's' cave, we catch up with the story with 'Sinbad and Aladin' after dinner...


The Count of Monte Cristo: Chapter 31

The supper appeared to have been supplied solely for Franz, for the unknown scarcely touched one or two dishes of the splendid banquet to which his guest did ample justice. Then Ali brought on the dessert, or rather took the baskets from the hands of the statues and placed them on the table. Between the two baskets he placed a small silver cup with a silver cover. The care with which Ali placed this cup on the table roused Franz's curiosity. He raised the cover and saw a kind of greenish paste, something like preserved angelica, but which was perfectly unknown to him. He replaced the lid, as ignorant of what the cup contained as he was before he had looked at it, and then casting his eyes towards his host he saw him smile at his disappointment. "You cannot guess," said he, "what there is in that small vase, can you?"

"No, I really cannot."

"Well, then, that green preserve is nothing less than the ambrosia which Hebe served at the table of Jupiter."

"But," replied Franz, "this ambrosia, no doubt, in passing through mortal hands has lost its heavenly appellation and assumed a human name; in vulgar phrase, what may you term this composition, for which, to tell the truth, I do not feel any particular desire?"

"Ah, thus it is that our material origin is revealed," cried Sinbad; "we frequently pass so near to happiness without seeing, without regarding it, or if we do see and regard it, yet without recognizing it. Are you a man for the substantials, and is gold your god? taste this, and the mines of Peru, Guzerat, and Golconda are opened to you. Are you a man of imagination -- a poet? taste this, and the boundaries of possibility disappear; the fields of infinite space open to you, you advance free in heart, free in mind, into the boundless realms of unfettered revery. Are you ambitious, and do you seek after the greatnesses of the earth? taste this, and in an hour you will be a king, not a king of a petty kingdom hidden in some corner of Europe like France, Spain, or England, but king of the world, king of the universe, king of creation; without bowing at the feet of Satan, you will be king and master of all the kingdoms of the earth. Is it not tempting what I offer you, and is it not an easy thing, since it is only to do thus? look!" At these words he uncovered the small cup which contained the substance so lauded, took a teaspoonful of the magic sweetmeat, raised it to his lips, and swallowed it slowly with his eyes half shut and his head bent backwards. Franz did not disturb him whilst he absorbed his favorite sweetmeat, but when he had finished, he inquired, -- "What, then, is this precious stuff?"

"Did you ever hear," he replied, "of the Old Man of the Mountain, who attempted to assassinate Philip Augustus?"

"Of course I have."

"Well, you know he reigned over a rich valley which was overhung by the mountain whence he derived his picturesque name. In this valley were magnificent gardens planted by Hassen-ben-Sabah, and in these gardens isolated pavilions. Into these pavilions he admitted the elect, and there, says Marco Polo, gave them to eat a certain herb, which transported them to Paradise, in the midst of ever-blooming shrubs, ever-ripe fruit, and ever-lovely virgins. What these happy persons took for reality was but a dream; but it was a dream so soft, so voluptuous, so enthralling, that they sold themselves body and soul to him who gave it to them, and obedient to his orders as to those of a deity, struck down the designated victim, died in torture without a murmur, believing that the death they underwent was but a quick transition to that life of delights of which the holy herb, now before you had given them a slight foretaste."

"Then," cried Franz, "it is hashish! I know that -- by name at least."

"That is it precisely, Signor Aladdin; it is hashish -- the purest and most unadulterated hashish of Alexandria, -- the hashish of Abou-Gor, the celebrated maker, the only man, the man to whom there should be built a palace, inscribed with these words, `A grateful world to the dealer in happiness.'"

"Do you know," said Franz, "I have a very great inclination to judge for myself of the truth or exaggeration of your eulogies."

"Judge for yourself, Signor Aladdin -- judge, but do not confine yourself to one trial. Like everything else, we must habituate the senses to a fresh impression, gentle or violent, sad or joyous. There is a struggle in nature against this divine substance, -- in nature which is not made for joy and clings to pain. Nature subdued must yield in the combat, the dream must succeed to reality, and then the dream reigns supreme, then the dream becomes life, and life becomes the dream. But what changes occur! It is only by comparing the pains of actual being with the joys of the assumed existence, that you would desire to live no longer, but to dream thus forever. When you return to this mundane sphere from your visionary world, you would seem to leave a Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter -- to quit paradise for earth -- heaven for hell! Taste the hashish, guest of mine -- taste the hashish."

Franz's only reply was to take a teaspoonful of the marvellous preparation, about as much in quantity as his host had eaten, and lift it to his mouth.

"Diable!" he said, after having swallowed the divine preserve. "I do not know if the result will be as agreeable as you describe, but the thing does not appear to me as palatable as you say."

"Because your palate his not yet been attuned to the sublimity of the substances it flavors. Tell me, the first time you tasted oysters, tea, porter, truffles, and sundry other dainties which you now adore, did you like them? Could you comprehend how the Romans stuffed their pheasants with assafoetida, and the Chinese eat swallows' nests? Eh? no! Well, it is the same with hashish; only eat for a week, and nothing in the world will seem to you to equal the delicacy of its flavor, which now appears to you flat and distasteful. Let us now go into the adjoining chamber, which is your apartment, and Ali will bring us coffee and pipes." They both arose, and while he who called himself Sinbad -- and whom we have occasionally named so, that we might, like his guest, have some title by which to distinguish him -- gave some orders to the servant, Franz entered still another apartment. It was simply yet richly furnished. It was round, and a large divan completely encircled it. Divan, walls, ceiling, floor, were all covered with magnificent skins as soft and downy as the richest carpets; there were heavy-maned lion-skins from Atlas, striped tiger-skins from Bengal; panther-skins from the Cape, spotted beautifully, like those that appeared to Dante; bear-skins from Siberia, fox-skins from Norway, and so on; and all these skins were strewn in profusion one on the other, so that it seemed like walking over the most mossy turf, or reclining on the most luxurious bed. Both laid themselves down on the divan; chibouques with jasmine tubes and amber mouthpieces were within reach, and all prepared so that there was no need to smoke the same pipe twice. Each of them took one, which Ali lighted and then retired to prepare the coffee. There was a moment's silence, during which Sinbad gave himself up to thoughts that seemed to occupy him incessantly, even in the midst of his conversation; and Franz abandoned himself to that mute revery, into which we always sink when smoking excellent tobacco, which seems to remove with its fume all the troubles of the mind, and to give the smoker in exchange all the visions of the soul. Ali brought in the coffee. "How do you take it?" inquired the unknown; "in the French or Turkish style, strong or weak, sugar or none, cool or boiling? As you please; it is ready in all ways."

"I will take it in the Turkish style," replied Franz.

"And you are right," said his host; "it shows you have a tendency for an Oriental life. Ah, those Orientals; they are the only men who know how to live. As for me," he added, with one of those singular smiles which did not escape the young man, "when I have completed my affairs in Paris, I shall go and die in the East; and should you wish to see me again, you must seek me at Cairo, Bagdad, or Ispahan."

"Ma foi," said Franz, "it would be the easiest thing in the world; for I feel eagle's wings springing out at my shoulders, and with those wings I could make a tour of the world in four and twenty hours."

"Ah, yes, the hashish is beginning its work. Well, unfurl your wings, and fly into superhuman regions; fear nothing, there is a watch over you; and if your wings, like those of Icarus, melt before the sun, we are here to ease your fall." He then said something in Arabic to Ali, who made a sign of obedience and withdrew, but not to any distance. As to Franz a strange transformation had taken place in him. All the bodily fatigue of the day, all the preoccupation of mind which the events of the evening had brought on, disappeared as they do at the first approach of sleep, when we are still sufficiently conscious to be aware of the coming of slumber. His body seemed to acquire an airy lightness, his perception brightened in a remarkable manner, his senses seemed to redouble their power, the horizon continued to expand; but it was not the gloomy horizon of vague alarms, and which he had seen before he slept, but a blue, transparent, unbounded horizon, with all the blue of the ocean, all the spangles of the sun, all the perfumes of the summer breeze; then, in the midst of the songs of his sailors, -- songs so clear and sonorous, that they would have made a divine harmony had their notes been taken down, -- he saw the Island of Monte Cristo, no longer as a threatening rock in the midst of the waves, but as an oasis in the desert; then, as his boat drew nearer, the songs became louder, for an enchanting and mysterious harmony rose to heaven, as if some Loreley had decreed to attract a soul thither, or Amphion, the enchanter, intended there to build a city.

At length the boat touched the shore, but without effort, without shock, as lips touch lips; and he entered the grotto amidst continued strains of most delicious melody. He descended, or rather seemed to descend, several steps, inhaling the fresh and balmy air, like that which may be supposed to reign around the grotto of Circe, formed from such perfumes as set the mind a dreaming, and such fires as burn the very senses; and he saw again all he had seen before his sleep, from Sinbad, his singular host, to Ali, the mute attendant; then all seemed to fade away and become confused before his eyes, like the last shadows of the magic lantern before it is extinguished, and he was again in the chamber of statues, lighted only by one of those pale and antique lamps which watch in the dead of the night over the sleep of pleasure. They were the same statues, rich in form, in attraction, and poesy, with eyes of fascination, smiles of love, and bright and flowing hair. They were Phryne, Cleopatra, Messalina, those three celebrated courtesans. Then among them glided like a pure ray, like a Christian angel in the midst of Olympus, one of those chaste figures, those calm shadows, those soft visions, which seemed to veil its virgin brow before these marble wantons. Then the three statues advanced towards him with looks of love, and approached the couch on which he was reposing, their feet hidden in their long white tunics, their throats bare, hair flowing like waves, and assuming attitudes which the gods could not resist, but which saints withstood, and looks inflexible and ardent like those with which the serpent charms the bird; and then he gave way before looks that held him in a torturing grasp and delighted his senses as with a voluptuous kiss. It seemed to Franz that he closed his eyes, and in a last look about him saw the vision of modesty completely veiled; and then followed a dream of passion like that promised by the Prophet to the elect. Lips of stone turned to flame, breasts of ice became like heated lava, so that to Franz, yielding for the first time to the sway of the drug, love was a sorrow and voluptuousness a torture, as burning mouths were pressed to his thirsty lips, and he was held in cool serpent-like embraces. The more he strove against this unhallowed passion the more his senses yielded to its thrall, and at length, weary of a struggle that taxed his very soul, he gave way and sank back breathless and exhausted beneath the kisses of these marble goddesses, and the enchantment of his marvellous dream.

That's right, "it is hashish -- the purest and most unadulterated hashish of Alexandria, -- the hashish of Abou-Gor, the celebrated maker, the only man, the man to whom there should be built a palace, inscribed with these words, `A grateful world to the dealer in happiness.'"

Amazing descriptions, amazing history all right in one of the greatest literary works of the 19th century...

With one of my favorite descriptions of the first time high I've ever read.

"All the bodily fatigue of the day, all the preoccupation of mind which the events of the evening had brought on, disappeared as they do at the first approach of sleep, when we are still sufficiently conscious to be aware of the coming of slumber. His body seemed to acquire an airy lightness, his perception brightened in a remarkable manner, his senses seemed to redouble their power, the horizon continued to expand"


It no doubt was written by someone that not only understood cannabis but truly loved the plant.

Cheech and Chong in a very loose interpretation of Dumas's classic tale 'The Corsican Brothers'


I don't want to ruin the story for anyone so I will leave you with just one more thought on 'The Count of Monte Cristo'...

I believe a sub story might be his new love "Haidee" represents cannabis...

Example?

During the high described by Franz, he envisioned a heaven like encounter with Goddess like statues in his room,

"They were Phryne, Cleopatra, Messalina, those three celebrated courtesans. Then among them glided like a pure ray, like a Christian angel in the midst of Olympus"

Notice the Reference to Olympus?

Haidee is a young Greek goddess introduced as a slave to Dante and he buys her... During the book he sets her free only to stay with him, telling him the truth...

Spoiler Alert!!!

In the last chapter we have Dante and his old boss's son(a friend) Maximilien on the Island of Monte Cristo...

Expecting to die, Maximilien eats what he believes to be poison offered by Dante, instead Dante gives him Hasheesh...

Dante reviels to his friend he has gotten him land and a free life with his love, Hashish revealing heaven...

Dante about to sail away, tells Haidee to stay and live free... She tells him she cant live without him, he agree's

"perhaps your love will make me forget all that I do not wish to remember."

Ending with what Haidee means to him...

"I mean that one word from you has enlightened me more than twenty years of slow experience; I have but you in the world, Haidee; through you I again take hold on life, through you I shall suffer, through you rejoice."

Dante then Sails off with his "Greek Goddess" into the sunset...