Stanley Kubrick by Katsuhiro Otomo
Gamer, from Atari 2600 to PS3.
Posts tagged History Today
Measuring a staggering 7 feet tall, André Roussimoff or Andre the Giant holds a young lady while basking at a beach in Cannes, France in 1967.
Exactly twenty years ago, André The Giant died in his sleep. He was, and remains to this day, the greatest wrestler to grace the rings of the WWE.
January 24 1935: first canned beer on sale.
I was going to write an article about this last year, but I got caught up in my research and spaced on the date.
Krueger’s Finest Beer and Krueger’s Cream Ale.
1933: after 2 years of research, American Can Company develops a pressurized can with special coating to prevent fizzy beer from chemically reacting with the tin
Thirty-two years ago, a misguided piece of garbage snuffed out one of the great minds in history with five hollow points for non-sensical reasons.
The bigger a tragedy is, the more epic and grand of an explanation we want. Was is the CIA? Was it hidden subliminal kill orders found in a book?
Of course not.
The simple, sad fact is that even the lowest man has the power to snuff out the most exalted of us. Where’s the fairness in that? There isn’t. And that’s one of the harsher truths in life: not everything happens for a reason, and sometimes, when thereis a reason, it’s not a good one.
So. Let’s not dwell on that fateful day and the events that transpired outside the Dakota. Instead, kick on some Beatles or Lennon solo tunes, and let’s just imagine a reality where John Lennon’s still kicking, and the world’s a little brighter for it.
Quentin Tarantino’s masterpiece, Kill Bill Vol. 1 hit theatres nine years ago.
The House of Blue Leaves remains one of the greatest action set-pieces in film history.
Nine fucking years?!
Commence feeling old… now. Ugh.
What is the use of living, if it be not to strive for noble causes and to make this muddled world a better place for those who will live in it after we are gone?
How else can we put ourselves in harmonious relation with the great verities and consolations of the infinite and the eternal?
And I avow my faith that we are marching towards better days.
Humanity will not be cast down.
We are going on swinging bravely forward along the grand high road and already behind the distant mountains is the promise of the sun.
This Day In History: John Lennon is born October 9, 1940.
I definitely did look up to John. We all looked up to John. He was older and he was very much the leader; he was the quickest wit and the smartest and all that kind of thing.
-Paul McCartney, Playboy (1984)
The place is here, the time is now, and the journey into the shadows that we’re about to watch could be our journey.
Fifty-three years ago, Rod Serling’s took audiences on the maiden journey to the fifth dimension:
On October 2, 1959 CBS airs the first episode of The Twilight Zone, ”Where Is Everybody?”
Decades of thought-provoking nightmares ensue.
RIP Neil Alden Armstrong (August 5th, 1930 to August 25th, 2012), First Person to Step on the Moon
He was born in the small town of Wapakoneta, Ohio, on Aug. 5, 1930.
On July 20, 1969, half a billion people — a sixth of the world’s population at the time — watched a ghostly black-and-white television image as Armstrong backed down the ladder of the lunar landing ship Eagle, planted his left foot on the moon’s surface, and said, “That’s one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.”
Twenty minutes later his crewmate, Buzz Aldrin, joined him, and the world watched as the men spent the next two hours bounding around in the moon’s light gravity, taking rock samples, setting up experiments, and taking now-iconic photographs.
“Isn’t this fun?” Armstrong said over his radio link to Aldrin. The third member of the Apollo 11 crew, Michael L. Collins, orbited 60 miles overhead in the mission’s command ship, Columbia. President Richard Nixon called their eight-day trip to the moon “the greatest week in the history of the world since the Creation.”
‘I Believe That This Nation Should Commit Itself….’
Armstrong’s step fulfilled a challenge laid down by an earlier president, John F. Kennedy, in May 1961. Struggling in his first months in the White House, Kennedy addressed a joint session of Congress:
“I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth,” he said. “No single space project in this period will be more impressive to mankind, or more important for the long-range exploration of space; and none will be so difficult or expensive to accomplish.”
Armstrong was a 30-year-old test pilot at the time of Kennedy’s challenge, flying the X-15 rocket plane for a new government agency called NASA. He had served as a Naval aviator in the Korean War, flying 78 missions, and had an engineering degree from Purdue University. A native of the small town of Wapakoneta, Ohio, he was married to the former Jan Shearon and living near Edwards Air Force Base in the high desert of California.
NASA already had seven astronauts, flying its Mercury space capsule. In 1962 it sent out word that it was looking for more, and Armstrong was one of the nine it selected.
On March 16, 1966 he became the first American civilian to orbit the earth, commanding the two-man Gemini VIII mission with David R. Scott as his crewmate. On their fourth orbit, they made the first-ever docking in space with another spacecraft — a maneuver the still-untested Apollo project would need to get astronauts to and from the lunar surface.
Minutes later, though, the spacecraft began to tumble wildly out of control, apparently because of a broken maneuvering thruster. It was a dangerous moment — a 6,000-pound ship, moving at 17,500 mph, spinning and turning end-over-end once a second. Armstrong ended the emergency by using a second set of thrusters. Mission Control ordered the astronauts to land as soon as possible, and after ten hours of flight they splashed down safely in the Pacific.
The two astronauts were commended for keeping their cool in a difficult situation, and when Project Apollo began, Armstrong was assigned to command one of the first six flights. At the time this was not momentous news. NASA had a system for rotating its crews among flights — one served as backup crew for a mission and then actually flew three flights later — and nobody knew how many test flights would be needed before the first moon landing could be attempted.
Neil Armstrong, First Man on the Moon
Armstrong, along with Buzz Aldrin and Fred Haise Jr., was named to the backup crew for Apollo 9, the third manned test of the new moonship. Soon Apollo 9 was swapped with Apollo 8 — and Apollo 8 was then sent to take astronauts around the moon. The mission was a success. While it was still in progress, chief astronaut Deke Slayton took Armstrong aside and told him that he, Aldrin and Mike Collins would fly Apollo 11.
So it was happenstance that made Neil Armstrong one of the most famous names of the 20th century. If the order of flights had been different, or if Apollo 9 or 10 had run into trouble, Apollo 11 might very well have been a practice run for the first lunar landing.
But by May 1969 the rehearsals had gone well and Apollo 11 was next up. Reporters swirled around Armstrong. More than a million people crowded the Florida coast to see the liftoff.
“I think we’re going to the moon because it’s in the nature of the human being to face challenges. It’s by the nature of his deep inner soul,” Armstrong said at a preflight news conference, “We’re required to do these things just as salmon swim upstream.”
Apollo 11 Leaves for the Moon
On the morning of July 16, 1969, Armstrong, Collins and Aldrin were woken before dawn. They suited up and climbed into the Apollo 11 command ship, high atop its 363-foot-tall Saturn V rocket.
Liftoff was flawless. Three days later the astronauts arrived in lunar orbit, and on the morning of July 20, Armstrong and Aldrin took their places in the landing ship Eagle, leaving Collins to run the command ship Columbia. They fired Eagle’s main engine to slow themselves toward the moon’s surface, aiming for a landing site on the Sea of Tranquility, a relatively flat plain near the moon’s equator.
As they came in on final approach, Armstrong later reported, he saw they were in trouble. Eagle’s computer was steering them right toward a crater, with boulders the size of cars. Armstrong took over manual control. Fuel was in short supply, but he hosed out more, skittering a few hundred feet above the lunar surface in search of a clear spot to land.
“1201 alarm,” called Aldrin, watching Eagle’s computer readout while Armstrong looked out the window. The computer was overloading.
“Hang tight, we’re go,” said astronaut Charles Duke, the one person at Mission Control assigned to talk with Armstrong and Aldrin by radio.
Armstrong was silent as he lowered the ship on a pillar of flame. He was too busy flying. Aldrin called out numbers to mark their progress in feet per second. “Four forward, drifting to the right a little.”
“Thirty seconds,” said Duke. In half a minute he would have to tell the astronauts to abort the landing — even though they were less than a hundred feet up.
Neil Armstrong, First Man on the Moon
Finally, Aldrin called out, “Contact light” — a signal that a five-foot-long metal probe, protruding from Eagle’s landing legs, had touched the surface. The ship gently settled. Finally, Armstrong came on the radio.
“Houston, Tranquility Base here, the Eagle has landed.”
Armstrong would say later that he considered the landing a much greater challenge, and a greater accomplishment, than actually walking on the surface. But after making sure Eagle was in good shape for the return trip, he and Aldrin put on their bulky backpacks and prepared to open the hatch.
It was 10:56 p.m., Eastern Daylight Time, when Armstrong backed down the ladder of the Lunar Module, went back up a step to make sure he could, and then planted his left boot in the lunar soil.
Armstrong walked on the moon for two hours and 21 minutes, Aldrin for about half an hour less. They took rock samples, set up two experiments, and took a phone call from President Nixon. They planted an American flag (with some difficulty; its staff wouldn’t stand firmly in the lunar dirt and the flag itself, stiffened with wires, rumpled). They bounded around in the weak lunar gravity, reporting it was great fun but a little hard to stop.
Armstrong carried a camera, mounted on the chest of his spacesuit, and took some of the most famous pictures of the century. Aldrin did not have a camera — so, in one of the ironies of the space age, almost all the still pictures from the Apollo 11 moonwalk are by Armstrong, not of him.
After a fitful night’s sleep, the two men lifted off from the lunar surface and rejoined Collins in Columbia. They splashed down safely in the Pacific on July 24, 1969. They were greeted by ticker-tape parades and a beaming President Nixon. After that, Armstrong tried his best to resume a private life.
He served for a few years as a NASA manager in Washington. He taught engineering at the University of Cincinnati, not far from his birthplace. He served on corporate boards. He was appointed to the panels that investigated the Apollo 13 accident and the Challenger disaster. He declined almost all requests for interviews, and stopped giving autographs when people sold them for thousands of dollars.
A few personal details emerged: He suffered a minor heart attack in 1991. His wife Jan divorced him in 1994 and he soon married Carol Knight. In 2005 his authorized biographer, James R. Hansen, wrote, “Neil Armstrong today seems to be a very happy man — perhaps happier than at any other time in his life.”
Armstrong said he did not want to be an icon, remembered only for that one-week trip he made in 1969. He did appear at the White House to mark major anniversaries of Apollo 11, and when he did he urged America to go on exploring.
“There are great ideas undiscovered, breakthroughs available to those who can remove one of truth’s protective layers,” he said in 1994. “There are places to go beyond belief.”
Rest in Peace, Mr. Armstrong.
Your small step has been an inspiring leap for mankind.
Here’s a lengthy installment of History Today that I’ve been looking forward to posting for a long time. It was fun as hell to research, and I hope it’s an equally fun read.
As the official drink of Puerto Rico, the Piña Colada is ever-present, a part of our cultural identity and heritage.
It’s also fucking delicious.
Today, we’re gonna take a truthful look at its origins…
Get ready for The Bizarrely-Convoluted History of the Piña Colada!