Sunday: V-J Day, Goodbye Kisses, Working Women and Warning Signs

54178c4d97b3668cb079ff3c12ef35d8Good Morning

I think it will be safe to say that today’s post is retro, super retro. And I really do not have all the space I need to post all the historic pictures I would like to post…so there will be links to other pages/galleries, and you must spend some time looking through the fascinating images.

Like the one to the right ———–>

Look at the expression on that woman’s face, if she could slam that thermos up-side the guy’s stupid head she would…but she appears too damn tired of hearing the kind of shit he is saying to even bother replying to the asshole.

At least the tag line on the bottom of the poster got it right:

America’s Women Have Met the Test!

Too bad that opinion did not last when the boys came back home.

cab40a4e5ea83e324782208ec2734216I often wonder what would have happened if the Republican push to get women and their views on politics back in the kitchen was not as successful as it was during the 5o’s…can you imagine?

Anyway, this may seem a little familiar to my post from Wednesday, but there is a reason for this opening thought:

You must have heard that the sailor in one of the most iconic pictures of World War II died last week…V-J Day, 1945: A Nation Lets Loose |

Glenn McDuffie, a Navy veteran who long claimed to be the sailor photographed kissing a nurse in Times Square on V-J day — and whose claim was reportedly backed up by a police forensic artist — has died. He was 86 years old. (LIFE magazine — in which the now-iconic Alfred Eisenstaedt photo first appeared — never officially identified either the sailor or the nurse.)

01_00141661Made almost 70 years ago, it remains one of the most famous photographs — perhaps the most famous photograph — of the 20th century: a sailor kissing a nurse in Times Square on V-J Day in August 1945.

That simple, straightforward description of the scene, however, hardly begins to capture not only the spontaneity, energy and sheer exuberance shining from Alfred Eisentaedt’s photograph, but the significance of the picture as a kind of cultural — indeed a totemic — artifact.

15_05531421“V-J Day in Times Square” is not merely the one image that captures what it felt like in America when it was finally announced, after a half-decade of global conflict, that Japan had surrendered and that the War in the Pacific — and thus the Second World War itself — was effectively ended. Instead, for countless people, Eisentaedt’s photograph captures at least part of what the people of a nation at war experience when war, any war, is over.

Glenn Edward McDuffie, who long claimed to be sailor in iconic Times Square  ‘kiss’ photo at end of WWII, dies  – NY Daily News

McDuffie, who passed away Sunday in Texas, had said he was motivated to randomly kiss the pretty nurse on the day Japan surrendered because it meant his brother would be getting released from a Japanese prison campTimes Square V-J Day Kiss

The Texas man who made headlines for his repeated claims to being the sailor who randomly kissed a woman in Times Square, leading to one of the most iconic photographic images of World War II, has died.

Glenn Edward McDuffie passed away at age 86 on Sunday in Texas after suffering a heart attack at a casino earlier in the day, his daughter told the Daily News.

McDuffie claimed for years he was the strapping sailor who planted one on the lips of the swooning woman on August 14, 1945. He said it was a spontaneous act of unbridled euphoria sparked by the announcement of Japan’s surrender.

The Life magazine photographer who took the famed shot, Alfred Eisenstaedt, did not record the names of the subjects, and many people have claimed to be the mysterious sailor. In 2007 noted forensic artist Lois Gibson, who works for the Houston Police Department, said she positively identified McDuffie as the sailor. Her technique was to take numerous pictures of the older McDuffie and overlay them over the original. By doing so she said she compared the sailor’s muscles, ears and other features to McDuffie’s, and found them to be a match.

Take a look at the rest of that NY Daily News piece, it has later pictures of McDuffie along with some photos of him when he was young…and other older interview quotes as well.

But back to the Life Magazine link for a little more:

…two small but significant pieces of information related to Eisenstaedt’s rightfully famous “Kiss in Times Square” might come — especially when taken together — as a real surprise to fans of both photography and of LIFE magazine in general.

First, contrary to what countless people have long believed, the photo of the sailor kissing the nurse did not appear on the cover of LIFE. It did warrant a full page of its own inside the magazine (page 27 of the August 27, 1945, issue, to be exact) but was part of a larger, multi-page feature titled, simply, “Victory Celebrations.”

Closely tied to that first point is the fact that while the conclusion of the Second World War might be something LIFE magazine, of all publications, could be expected to feature on its cover for weeks on end, the magazine’s editors clearly had other ideas. post_1267972In fact, not only did Eisensteadt’s Times Square photo not make the cover of the August 27th issue; no image related to the war, or the peace, graced the cover. Instead the magazine carried a striking photograph of a ballet dancer.

An underwater ballet dancer.

War is over! that cover seems to say.

After years of brutal, global slaughter, our lives — in all their frivolous, mysterious beauty — can finally begin again.

Amen to that.

Some of the pictures in that Life Magazine’s gallery are beautiful, they have published pictures that were not published in the original 1945 piece. Like this one below, of the V-J Day reaction in Hollywood:


I love that woman’s shoes! This article also is connected to another WWII era gallery at Life, Fighting Words: World War II Battlefield Signs |

00600729.JPGThe universe is made of stories, not of atoms,” the American poet Muriel Rukeyser once wrote, and more and more, as time goes by, that sounds about right.

But what if paying strict heed to every written word that one saw every single day meant the difference between survival and annihilation? What if the misreading of a sign on an unfamiliar road, for example, meant not the inconvenience of a missed turn, but a sudden, violent death?

Take your Atabrine, an anti-malaria drug. Sign was put up at the 363rd station hospital in Papua, New Guinea during WWII

Take your Atabrine, an anti-malaria drug. Sign was put up at the 363rd station hospital in Papua, New Guinea during WWII

Here, takes a look at some of the countless signs that troops encountered during the course of World War II, from the islands of the Pacific to the deserts of North Africa to the ruined cities of Europe. Official warnings; adamant instructions; wry, handwritten inside jokes — all of them silent reminders of a conflict that, until the very end, dished out one paramount, universal command: Pay attention!

So again, check that link out along with the following:

d5eb019a959d5f074b8a7121137129eeWWII Signs on Pinterest

Women in WWII on Pinterest

Alfred Eisenstaedt Life Photographer on Pinterest

WWII on Pinterest

On the Job in WWII – Rosie and Friends. on Pinterest

This last board has some posters from WWI as well:

Vintage Ads, Billboards, Signs, Posters on Pinterest

Here are your newsy links for today, after the jump.

Read the rest of this entry »

Allow me to Rant a minute here …

ann margaret carnal knowledgeSo, it’s been gloomy, drizzly, chilly and foggy here for at least a week. It poured last night and there were flood warnings every where.  That means it’s one of those weeks where you tend to spend too much time indoors; and that, of course, means the TV is on way too much.   Most of the time I’ve got TV news in the background or the Weather Channel given the right mix of severe weather conditions anyway.  We had that outbreak of tornadoes a few weeks ago.   I keep telling myself to pull out my videos and books but I also have to do some paper grading and such so it’s not always a good idea for me to get all that distracted.

It’s also been a month of dreary news.  We’ve seen some of the worst puffery coming from congress.   Many of these old white dudes have decided to take a stand on excessive spending. Our so-called leaders pride themselves on denying victims of Hurricane Sandy a pittance of our vast national wealth.  Then, there’s the national “debate” on what kind of arsenals crazy white men are allowed to have and if we have to turn our grade schools into army bases while denying our children other things like computers, school lunches, and well paid and respected teachers.  Add a heaping shit load of rape culture and predatory, pampered, and protected athletes from universities and high schools and just the regular news is enough to let you know that there’s so much rampant male bravado and privilege in this damned country gone amok that you wouldn’t think you’d need many more reminders. But, there are many more reminders that our culture is penis obsessed.  It’s all over the damned TV these days.

Again, I’ve had the TV on way too much and I’m served up not only these real things but a big ol’ helping of men who need pills, potions, ointments, and austin powerscontraptions for erections.  There are these TV commercials where ugly, nasty looking trolls like, say, Mitch McConnell, talk about how happy their wives are now because they are real mean again.  Some how, I can’t imagine their wives being all that happy but maybe it’s just me.

I’m regaled with yucky details about how they have to lead seal team-like searches for bathroom locations because of poorly functioning prostates.  How they still really find their wives charming–complete with flirty, child behaving adult women as props–so they just simply have to have ointments, pumps, and pills to pork them at will. The new, big affront is some kind of testosterone cream that evidently has horrible side effects for any child or women who comes near it.  All of this is necessary because they might ‘fade’ into the background because their penises just don’t do things they used to do and which–by the way–is perfectly natural for their age.

You’re old, your whiteness isn’t that special, and your damned leaky, flaccid, penises shouldn’t be the continual obsession of drug companies and Madison Avenue.  WTF is wrong with you?  The worst of the ads come on late at night and involve some kind of suction contraption where some of the worst looking men in the world go on about being the best they can be.

These never ending assaults of televised white penis obsession are gross and rather traumatizing. It brings back all those icky moments in my life when I realized that a lot of my life was going to be defined around having to deal with them and deal with the fact that a portion of the planet was so obsessed with theirs that the fact I didn’t have one was going to be an issue for all kinds of things. It also reminds me that I have two daughters that still have to deal with this kind of crap.

First, and foremost it brings me back to a first date I had in my freshmen year of college who took me to see the movie Carnal Knowledge showing at one of those Midnight Movie extravaganzas that was so popular back in the day.  He ended our date with the pitch “Wanna ball?”  That should’ve been a warning to me right there.  For those of you that want a reminder of that movie, here’s the last scenes that really stuck in my teenage mind.  That would be the Ball Busters on parade slide show and the hooker scene where the male erection seems to be the center of everything.

penisaurus2Anyway, I’ve turned off the TV.  I feel like it’s an all out assault.  It reminds me of another penisaurus1one of those movies that I saw with that same guy at that same midnight movie series about a month later.   Flesh Gordan is a movie not worth seeing but I do want to mention the attack of the penisaurus scene because, wow they’re back, they’re flaccid and mad and they evidently need all kinds of pumps, attention, creams, pills, and air time. Oh, and did I mention they come attached to a lot of dudes that need some serious psychotherapy?