A "thinking clock" with no hands and designed to make time-telling difficult has just been invented and built by an ingenious Benton Harbor manufacturer, Alfred L. Sohm, who operates the Acme Game company at the Benton Harbor Industrial center.

The clock, first of its kind ever to be built, announces the hours by a complicated system of lights, buzzers, chimes, and bells. Its inventor proudly claims that several minutes will be required by the average person to tell from the new clock just what time it is.

While the person is trying to tell the time, he will receive all sorts of other information that is designed to distract his attention and confuse him even further. The revolutionary design of the new instrument is expected by its builder to make "clock watching" a fascinating pursuit.

While the new device is perhaps reminiscent of a Rube Goldberg patent, apparently there is a sound principle behind it. The object is to attract attention and discussion for advertising purposes. Instead of merely glancing at the hands of a clock to get the time, people using this clock will have to ponder a bit, and meanwhile they will be taking in concentrated doses of advertising.

Philosophical ads existed before Brainbeau. They can still be found in the back pages of magazines like Gnosis, Fate or Biblical Archeology Review. Typically, such ads proclaim "Esoteric Secrets of the Egyptians can be Yours," "You Possess Hidden Powers," and once in a while something like, "Jesus Never Existed." While ads such as these might lead you something philosophical, their main purpose is to peddle books and amulets, not to communicate ideas.

For Brainbeau, the ads themselves were esoteric truths. Those who sent Self Addressed Stamped Envelopes (SASE) to Brainbeau expecting to receive literature, products or information received even more ads! They revealed Brainbeau's plans, bit by bit, ad by ad. Several sheets of closely spaced Brainbeau ads could be fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, but the resulting picture would be just another sheet of ads.

In a series of commercials for the automaker, the game starlet [Pamela Austin] can be seen "falling off cliffs, shooting out of cannons, and cracking up airplanes" a la Pearl White, all to get the audience to "Join the Dodge rebellion!" Austin was an immediate hit and fan clubs sprung up all across college campuses. Her impact was huge. She took advantage of the publicity and starred as the ultimate damsel-in-distress orphan Pauline in the projected TV series The Perils of Pauline opposite Pat Boone as her star-crossed lover. The pilot was reworked three times before being rejected by the network and wound up being re-edited for a theatrical release in 1967.