I hope you had a good weekend, and your world is as brilliant as possible in these waning days. The sun makes a great show of being strong and powerful in the middle of the afternoon, like someone who boasts of his prosperity but leaves the room before the check arrives. It's gone by 5:30.

Today is the anniversary of the end of the Great War.

I got these from a book of government-made pro-war ads. They had an . . . army of ad men who chipped in and did their part, hectoring everyone to get behind the fight.

If you can handle a tool, you can build a ship.

You will get a Badge of Honor. You can pin it to your coat.

C'mon, man, get practical. It's your government or the cold hand of the Hun!

"Advertising to Victory." Note the words above the eagle: "The Division of Advertising."

Mr. and Mrs. America, prepare to be judged. She's your worst nightmare: a poorly drawn nag.

Go through the motions of patriotic prostration as you will; doesn't mean a thing. CASH. That's what matters. YOUR. CASH.

This one has a phrase I will not soon forget.

Pock-marked with significant craters and “plum-caked” with unspeakable things that once were men

Whew.

The ads are up-front about the whole world of sucktitude over there:

Thus it always was: loose lips, sunk ships, and so on. Fritz is listening. You could say he's Fritzening.

Then . . . it was over. The ads did a quick pivot.

The text goes on and on about the new world about to be born.

May you forget the hot shells and cold steel and now that we are prepared to extend our hearty appreciation but probably not credit, until you have a job

We actually have a picture of this very building thus adorned:

Built in stages, I'd say.

Finally, this procession: the states of Europem observed and honored by Victory, are helped onto the stage by Peace. Note that America is called "Columbia." We let Belgium go first because they had pride of place in the propaganda efforts.

You have no idea - or, I don't know, maybe you do - how much war advertising there was. The government's efforts were torrential. There'd never been anything like it.

 


Oh yum

Archer-Daniels-Midland: huge company now! And it all began right here in Minneapolis.

 

 

 

Oh, boy, a cheap-o.

Looks like a serial. Republic, did you have any other typefaces?

Hmmm.

Well, if I must, I will:

Ah, of course; the side of the bank of Hollywood, or the Equitable Building.

These guys just robbed a bank.

There are three of them. They get stopped by the cops because the description of one of the robbers said he had highly polished nails, and that gives the whole game away. They run. And so:

Hey - what’s this movie about, then?

The cops can’t find the money. They’re looking for the car used in the robbery. A detective’s on the case, and he heads for an amusement park. Behold, Matte World:

 

Some guys you know from the minute they enter the screen, even if you’ve never seen them this young; you want for them to speak so you can say “yep. That’s the man.”

I was actually surprised I recognized him before I heard him.

 

Anyway, it’s fast and snappy and weightless, and the hero spends the entire movie with the same rictus grin.

Like a low-rent Cagney. He looks like the reporter in Batman.

The good gal dame:

Adele Mara.

Seldom was she given the chance to capitalize on her acting talents, however, and her film career waned in the mid 1950s. Her last screen appearance would be in The Big Circus (1959) with Victor Mature.

Adele subsequently moved into TV and was featured in a number of guest spots, primarily in westerns. She eventually abandoned her career and settled down to raise her three sons from her 1952 marriage to TV mogul Roy Huggins who produced many hit shows including 77 Sunset Strip (1958) and Maverick (1957). On a rare occasion, she would appear as a guest in one of his efforts, including an episode of the TV series Cool Million (1972).

It's more than most got.

And now, the Monday Boon! This should hold you for today. See you around.