In 1969, Alfred Mardarello et al. were granted a patent for a "noisemaking device" which could be attached to a missile. When the missile was fired and flying through the air, their gadget would create "weird, alien sounds" intended to terrify the enemy. From their patent:
The invention relates to a projectile that is adapted to produce frightening noises while in flight, whereby such alien sounds will have a terrrifying effect on people nearby.
The psychological effects of weird or unexpected noises, which accompany an artillery projectile or missile, have been explored in many ways, prior to this invention, with minimum results. The Germans, in World War II, attached a noise producing device to aerial bombs, somewhat similar in construction to the organ pipe. A high pitched noise was created. This could be used only on large bombs and was too massive for use on artillery projectiles...
The insufficiencies of the prior art are overcome by the noisemaking adapter of the instant invention. The adapter ring is so designed that they attach to an existant missile without requiring modification of said missile. Centrifugal force, as a result of the spinning motion of the missile after being fired, causes the noisemaking arms or fins to extend and to produce weird, alien sounds of such magnitude as to be heard over a substantial area. The psychological effect, to create panic to those in the vicinity, is thus effected.
I have no idea if this patent was ever used in combat. But I don't really understand the point of making something that's already terrifying (a missile) even more terrifying by having it produce weird, alien sounds. Isn't the terror of the missile itself enough?
I guess it was part of the psychological warfare effort during Vietnam. See also Ghost Tape Number Ten.
I don't think it's false nostalgia to say that people and events were more colorful in the past. I don't see any modern criminals who possess a resume like Jo Jo's.
These Mr. Leggs ads offer a window onto the twisted male psyche of the 1960s. They ran in newspapers and magazines (Esquire) from 1963 to 1965.
"Though she was a tiger lady, our hero didn’t have to fire a shot to floor her. After one look at his Mr. Leggs slacks, she was ready to have him walk all over her. That noble styling sure soothes the savage heart! If you’d like your own doll-to-doll carpeting, hunt up a pair of these he-man Mr. Leggs slacks."
"It took him years of practice and dozens of bruised, outraged ladies, but he's perfected it. She's under his spell."
"Get all knotted up when she floats by? Relax."
"There they were at the snack bar... this one and her sister Eileen (roughly 38-20-38). He smiles; she smiles. He spoke; she responded eagerly. Asked him to watch the kid for a few minutes. That was two hours ago."
"Why torture yourself? Be flexible!"
"Our hero's had a hard day. He had to set up the hammock. And he had to crawl into it. Exhausting. Now he's ready to collect his reward."
"Even Cora the Cobra can't resist getting next to the man in a pair... proving that at times they're downright dangerous to wear. For other species of Cora's sex (like girls) are also apt to over-react to Slats' virile appeal."
When 80-year-old Gladys Rogers died of flu in 1978, her evangelist son decided that he would freeze her body and then bring her back to life with prayer. Her resurrection, he believed, would turn people to Christianity. She lay in an upright freezer as he prayed.
St. Joseph Gazette - Mar 13, 1978
He prayed for two months before conceding that he had failed. He attributed his failure to a lack of faith. "It had nothing to do with the power of the Lord," he said. "The main thing was I can't bring mama back, but I'll meet her again in Heaven."
In order to become a member of the Flagon and Trencher society, one has to satisfy the following rule of eligibility:
Those persons, either male or female, who can prove direct descent from an individual who conducted a tavern, inn, ordinary, or other type of hostelry prior to 4 July 1776 (within any of the the American Colonies that existed at that time).
According to their website, the society was founded in 1962 by Walter Lee Shepard and the late Kenneth Stryker-Rodda. As of 2002, they had more than 1000 members.
There's a $200 fee to apply to join. But if you apply and can't satisfactorily prove descent from a colonial barkeep, you'll only get a portion of that fee back.
Even in the middle of a gas attack, nails still need to be manicured.
Honolulu Advertiser - Nov 13, 1938
Compare this to the gas mask for typists we posted about a few months ago. Also the gas-proof pram. And the London chorus girl with gas mask. It was all part of the effort to reassure the public, during the 1930s, that poison gas attacks wouldn't interrupt everyday life.
Alex Boese
Alex is the creator and curator of the Museum of Hoaxes. He's also the author of various weird, non-fiction books such as Elephants on Acid.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.
Chuck Shepherd
Chuck is the purveyor of News of the Weird, the syndicated column which for decades has set the gold-standard for reporting on oddities and the bizarre.
Our banner was drawn by the legendary underground cartoonist Rick Altergott.