His Master’s Dead, Disembodied Voice

March 4, 2012 in Angry Jim, Life, WTF by rarerborealis | 2 comments

Several nights ago sitting at my computer, I was innocently searching for animated gifs of the ‘Clever girl…’ Jurassic Park scene when Angry Jim walked by. “Hey, look up ‘His Master’s Voice‘”, he said. A moment later the screen went from raptors to variations of an adorable little dog looking quizzically into a phonograph. “Do you know that picture?” Why yes, says I. That’s the logo for RCA records, and it’s a cute puppy named Nipper all confused about technology. He thinks it’s people! “Yeah, he’s sitting on a coffin.”

WHAAAAAAAAAAT?

“He’s sitting on a coffin. His master’s coffin. The recording he’s listening to is his dead master’s voice, and he’s confused because he thinks it’s him.”


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Nooooooooo! This is even worse than that ‘Bayard of Dogs’ plaque at the top of the Kaaterskills! Noooooo!!! Nipper can never understand his master’s not coming back, especially when you play recordings of his voice! This image has now become an icon of the futility of hope and joy!

…A slight bit of freaking out later, further research revealed the sad story behind ‘His Master’s Voice’ to mostly bear out. A stray taken in by set painter Mark Barraud, Nipper was so named ‘because of his love of people’s ankles’. After Barraud passed away, his brother Francis Barraud took Nipper in. Francis noticed the confusion and interest Nipper had in the playing phonograph, particularly in recordings of his late brother’s voice. He decided it would make an excellent subject for a painting, and in 1899 completed the creatively titled ‘Dog Looking And Listening To A Phonograph’.

Francis first attempted to sell the painting to the Edison company, as it was their cylinder phonograph pictured. They passed, and he decided to cheer up the picture with a brighter horn, the kind seen on gramophones. Not having one, he went to The Gramophone Company, Ltd. to borrow one as reference. Upon finding out about the adorable painting, they asked Francis to specifically paint their latest model, and a classic image was born. Apparently if you look at the original painting from an angle, you can see the original, painted-over Edison cylinder player underneath.

It is important (well, important to record nerds) to note that this is a painting eventually titled ‘His Master’s Voice’, something that would’ve only been possible on cylinder recordings, as they could be both played AND recorded at home. That’s how Francis even had recordings of his brother’s voice, because Barraud likely dictated to the machine. Gramophone players weren’t intended for recording, only playing, which would’ve made it unusual for Nipper to hear ‘His Master’s Voice’, unless his master happened to be Sir Harry Lauder or something. Yes, I am familiar with the many Scots-themed songs of Sir Harry Lauder. That’s what happens when you’re pals with a cylinder collector.

In both Francis’ account and the polished PR story on RCA’s website, no mention is made of the dog sitting upon his master’s coffin, probably because people everywhere would start associating RCA with ‘bursting into tears’. It could be the surface is a tabletop, or some other extremely shiny, narrow, beveled dark-wood surface. Sure, that’s it! But the image of a tiny dog sitting atop his master’s last earthly remains, confused at hearing his disembodied voice but not seeing his comforting hand anywhere, is what I’ll now think of every time I see the RCA logo. THANKS ANGRY JIM.

If you’d like to know more about Nipper, here’s a site for and by ‘Nipperheads’.

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Free Pattern Friday – Nothing’s Sexier Than A Floor-Length Tube.

March 3, 2012 in Crafty Goodness, Knitting by rarerborealis | No comments

The forecast for spring is looking like a melting cast member of the original ‘Beverly Hills: 90210′, and who am I to stand in the way of progress? This week’s free pattern is something I’ve already seen a number of trendy ladies walking around Soho in…oh did I say walking? I meant hobbling, as with every step they attempted to take on the crowded streets of New York their floor-length maxi skirts and dresses, if not stepped on by their own heels, were trammeled under a thousand pedestrians’ feet, not to mention blackened from the filth that is this city. Did we learn nothing from Taxi Driver?


(The model looks like she’s trying not to crack up, possibly due to dress squeakage.)

Until that real rain finally comes people will continue following the random whims of fashion. In the meantime, let us stick to this slightly more reasonable above-the-ankle-length, or better yet, the ‘midi’ length, which would probably eat up a lot less yarn. Even better, follow the other trend of weensy skirts and make it a body-hugging mini. Ultra-mini! Belly shirt! Whatever!

I’ve also included this inverted image, just because it looks boss:

Tube top?

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Saint Germain And Saint Rita

February 29, 2012 in Consumerism, Life by rarerborealis | 2 comments

No, not entries in ‘Catholic Heroes and Martyrs’, but sweet delicious imbibibles.

If you’ve ever gone into a fancy liquor store, the kind that carries no Alizé and prominently displays wines from a specific town in Spain, chances are you’ve seen the beauty that is St. Germain glowing on the shelf. It’s the prettiest of booze bottles, an elegant Deco column capped with a touch of burnished silver and filled with the lightest of chartreuse elixers. What heavenly flavors fill this delightsome vessel? According to my roommate, who took a swig straight from the bottle, burning sugar with a heavy dose of cough syrup. Such is the unrefined palette, though in his defense St. Germain’s not intended to be drunk straight or at room temperature.

Indeed, St. Germain works best as a mixer, adding a hint of sweetness and refreshing floral background to any favorite cocktail. It’s an Elderflower liqueur, a beverage which itself has a long and dainty history (particularly amongst the Victorians, who loved them some sweet cordials). I tried it out in a personal favorite of mine, the Margarita (a true Margarita, not the bastard sugar-slush that passes for such), replacing the triple-sec with St. Germain.

This changes it to a St. Rita, an appropriate namesake given the sweet gentleness of St. Germain tempering bold tequila and its reputation as a liquid episode of ‘COPS’. Following the recipe above, imbibing more than one might also result in permanent forehead stigmata.

This delicious liqueur is in good namesake company as well; according to these fellows St. Germain was reincarnated as no less than Francis Bacon, Christopher Columbus, and Merlin! The Count of St. Germain, while an actual historical figure, was no less mysterious or magical – alternately portrayed as a high occultist or blatant fraud, he was a well-liked composer and friend of the court with a sense of humor about himself.

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A Does Not Equal B, Except In ‘The Boy Who Loved Trolls’ Apparently.

February 23, 2012 in Movies & Media, WTF by rarerborealis | No comments

TWO CONSECUTIVE THINGS THAT HAPPEN.

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Smizing Pales In Comparison

February 12, 2012 in Ephemera, New York City by rarerborealis | 3 comments

When visiting the Strand, I usually end up in their 3rd floor Rare Books room. This is partly because the room is accessible only via one elevator, making me feel slightly badass and spy-like just walking into it, much like discovering a hidden room in a video game. It’s partly because entrants are left free to roam in a sizable, open room smelling pleasantly of old leather and paper, FILLED WITH RARE BOOKS.

The rarest of the rare are displayed behind thick glass in an old-timey bank vault next to the main desk. Here you’ll find your Mark Twain signed first editions and rare monographs handwritten by former kings. Otherwise, everything else is out in the open. You can just wander around leafing through early editions of ‘On The Road’, children’s books from Soviet Russia, or pulp Victorian romance novels with ornate jewel covers. There’s even a tiny room in the back filled with books so ancient they disintegrate before your very eyes (it smells very nice though).

Now, ‘rare’ doesn’t always translate to ‘unaffordable’. Rare just means something you don’t come across very often, something there’s not very much of. This is an irresistible proposition to me, the possibility of having what may be the ONLY COPY LEFT of something, even if that something has little or no practical application or resell value. Actually, especially if it’s impractical with little resell value. Imagine my joy then, after wandering around looking at lovely and far too expensive tomes, to come across this baby on a shelf for a mere $15.00:

‘How To Click Before The Camera’ is a 1949 step-by-step guide for models on posing. I’m not sure why it’s so rare – the back page implies this was one of several booklets the company sold regularly, and How To Click seems the most comprehensive of those offered. In any event it’s a treasure trove of surreal imagery – floating heads, disembodied limbs standing on clock faces, and articulated mouth gestures with strange phrasings beneath.

Seeing as the magazine’s apparently so rare I thought I’d share the whole book right here, so in the unlikely event my computer and apartment simultaneously spontaneously combust, the world can go on learning which poses are FOR EXOTIC HIGH FASHION ONLY. Please, use this knowledge wisely.

Click to learn the dark secrets of ‘How To Click’.

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