In 1966, the art group
Art & Language (which, at the time, was Terry Atkinson and Michael Baldwin) debuted the
Air-Conditioning Show. This consisted of an air conditioner in an empty room. The only vaguely art-like part of the exhibit (in a conventional sense) was ten sheets of paper pinned to the wall by the door, on which were written line after line of cryptic sentences, such as, "It is obvious that the elements of a given framework (and this includes the constitution of construct contexts) are not at all bound to an eliminative specifying system."
This exhibit is now regarded as a significant moment in the development of modern art. One art historian noted that what made it original was that, "the body of air in a particular gallery space was singled out for art-status."
Another says:
Art & Language’s ‘Air Conditioning Show’ (1966-67) was seen as an exploration of our understanding of art institutions and their exhibition spaces; specifically 'the desire to show institutions’ internal mechanisms, here the thermal regulating system for an exhibition space, left empty.’
In a 2012 article in the Independent, Charles Derwent singled it out as, "the moment when the visual arts in Britain were beginning to turn un-visual, when mere visuality was becoming suspect."
The sheets of paper
are now preserved at the Tate Museum of Modern Art.
During the 1960s, scientist
George Price came up with a mathematical formula to explain the evolution of altruism. This equation has been described as "the closest thing biology has to E=mc
2."
Legend has it that Price subsequently became obsessed by proving that altruism was a genuine phenomenon, extending beyond family relations. He did this by giving away all his possessions to random, needy people — to the point that he himself became penniless, was evicted from his apartment, and after living in various squats throughout London, eventually committed suicide.
That's the legend, but Laura Farnworth discovered that, while the story is basically true, there's slightly more to it than that. Such as that Price was also suffering from psychotic delusions.
Read more at nautil.us.
George Price
Those are plainly loony bin attendants in the background, denoting that this clothing line is worn by crazy people. Gratuitous tape recorder also puzzling.
Source.
One of the classic brand-extension blunders of all time has to be when toothpaste-maker Colgate decided to come out with a line of frozen dinners. The story is told in many places, and it's usually described as having occurred in 1982. For instance,
here's the HuffPost's take on it:
We suppose the idea behind Colgate Kitchen Entrees was the fact that you’d eat the Colgate frozen dinner and then brush your teeth with Colgate toothpaste, but this one just simply didn’t work. The frozen food market was already pretty saturated when these dinners were released in 1982, and when people think of Colgate they tend to think of clean teeth, not frozen Swedish meatballs.
Lots of other sites refer to this as having happened in 1982, such as
here,
here, and
here. But when I took a closer look at the story I couldn't find any primary sources from 1982 about it. But there are several 1960s-era sources (
Washington Food Report,
Weekly Digest) that refer to Colgate having test-marketed a line of frozen dinners in Madison, Wisconsin in 1964.
A 1966 article in Television Age magazine offered some insight into what inspired the company to do this:
To enlarge its business, now dependent almost entirely on soaps and toiletries against the P&G and Lever competition, Colgate has long wanted to get into the $4.2-billion convenience food field. Its efforts here have been fruitless. A line of dried chicken and crabmeat entrees under a Colgate Kitchen label was introduced and quickly withdrawn. An apple-chip called Snapples has been tested off-and-on over a two-year period, and one or two other food items are in various stages. The company has specialty foods operations in France and Italy, but evidently is finding it hard to duplicate their success here.
So, unless someone can find some primary sources that indicate otherwise, I'm going to assume that the Colgate Kitchen debacle actually happened in 1964, not 1982. And it was only a test-marketing trial run, not a full product roll-out. It would definitely be bizarre if, after the 1964 failure, Colgate tried the same thing again in 1982.
There's a couple of images of Colgate Kitchen entrees floating around the Internet, but I think they're all photoshops or mock-ups. For instance, the one below is a recent
mock-up created by the Museum of Failure in Sweden.
Ernie Bushmiller is best known as the creator of the
Nancy comic strip, which was known for being very wholesome. But it turns out that his most popular and frequently reproduced cartoon, by a wide margin, was a slightly off-color one that he drew in 1961, and which was included that year in the
Duch Treat Club Yearbook. He titled it "How to housebreak your dog."
The Comics Journal details the many lives of this cartoon, noting:
For whatever reasons "How To Housebreak Your Dog" has screamed “reproduce me” again and again to America for nearly six decades and willing entrepreneurs have readily responded to this call of nature. Bushmiller’s humble dog-pee joke flows gloriously onward, replicating like mutant bacteria through the dark alleys of our pop culture. And like a grinning dog before a mighty oak, each subsequent publisher seems strangely compelled to leave his unique mark on this enduring work.