During the First World War, steel shortages forced President Wilson to commission the construction of 24 cement war ships. The war ended less than a year later, at which time the first 12 ships were still under construction. These were eventually completed and sold to private companies. Many of them can now be seen slowly decaying off the coast of the U.S., and one has even been converted to a 10 room hotel off the coast of Cuba.
Almost 25 years later, Geoffrey Pyke recommended the construction of a huge aircraft carrier – the equivalent of a floating island – made from ice and wood pulp, during the Second World War. The material, dubbed Pykrete, possesses incredible tensile strength – more than concrete – at less than half the density. The project, named Habakkuk after a biblical quote (“I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe“), underwent a number of prototypes and tests, from secret lairs under Smithfield Market in London, to Lake Louise in Canada, but was never fully realised due to a number of engineering and cost concerns.
Wikipedia recounts an entertaining anecdote about a demonstration of Pykrete’s strength:
… at the Quebec Conference of 1943, Lord Mountbatten brought a block of Pykrete along to demonstrate its potential to the bevy of admirals and generals who had come along with Winston Churchill and Franklin D. Roosevelt. Mountbatten entered the project meeting with two blocks and placed them on the ground. One was a normal ice block and the other was Pykrete. He then drew his service pistol and shot at the first block. It shattered and splintered. Next, he fired at the Pykrete to give an idea of the resistance of that kind of ice to projectiles. The bullet ricocheted off the block, grazing the trouser leg of Admiral Ernest King and ended up in the wall.
I am a bit obsessed with miniatures, and this idea is lovely:
The World’s Smallest Postal Service (WSPS) is a teeny tiny transcription service and roaming post office based in the San Francisco Bay Area and also available online.
Lea Redmond is the Postmaster, setting up her tiny mobile office in cafes and shops where passers-by can write a letter and have it turned into a “world’s smallest letter.” The letter is transcribed on a miniature desk in the tiniest of script, sealed with a miniscule wax seal with the sender’s intial pressed into it, packaged up with a magnifying glass in a glassine envelope, and finished off with a large wax seal (see above). It is a double delight: for both the sender and the recipient, and the WSPS is very happy to provide this important service to the world.
Beautiful.
Handful image from the World’s Smallest Postal Service
Last year a group of youngish New York hispsters (and actress Susan Sarandon) opened what appears to be the world’s first nightclub devoted to the sport of ping pong. SPiN, located in Manhattan, ensures exclusivity by having a niche group of members who pay $650 per year individually or $900 for a family to be afforded access to the club during special member-only nights. Non-members can also book tables and use the club during weekly open-house hours. According to their website,
SPiN New York is a 13,000 square foot table tennis social club on Park Avenue in Manhattan’s Flatiron District. The club offers unparalleled table tennis courts with Olympic quality cushioned flooring and 13 individual tables, including a stadium-like center court. In addition, SPIN New York houses a pro shop, lounge, bar, private room … and over a dozen internationally known professional coaches and players who are available for private and group instruction.
One of these coaches is Wally Green – a 20 something, freestyle rapper and ping pong savant. He is one example of how the profile of ping pong has evolved from that of the bow tie wearing Forrest Gump to a new breed of young, hip urbanite. Although some of the old pros like Marty Reisman (pictured above) still chew up the tables, you are more likely to run into the likes of the Beastie Boys or model Verionica Webb tossing back a martini while hitting the ball back and forth in their Vans and Manolos (respectively).
Image of Marty Reisman (table tennis champion) by Tyler Askew of Maround.com.
Donna Reed was a beautiful American actress who was probably best known for her role as Mary Bailey, the long suffering wife of George in It’s a Wonderful Life. During World War II, she became a very popular pin-up for soldiers overseas – she visited army bases overseas a number of times and corresponded regularly with soldiers on active duty. Although her daughter said she never spoke of the letters she received, when she passed away of cancer in 1986 at age 64, her family found hundreds of these letters stored in her attic:
All told, Ms. Reed held on to 341 letters, some typed but many written in the kind of elegant … method cursive script rarely seen today. Taken as a whole, the correspondence offers a candid glimpse of a vanished era, a time when six hard-bitten Marine sergeants could write that “we think you’re swell” and mean it in something other than an ironic sense … Gauging the impact that the letters had on Ms. Reed is difficult. “I knew she had feelings about her country and participating as a concerned citizen,” Ms. Owen said. But, she added, her mother did not talk about the letters. Ms. Reed lamented to a female pen pal in 1942 that “my effort to win the war hasn’t amounted to much” and “I wish I could find more to do.” (source)
Later in life, and perhaps because of the impact the war and these soldiers in particular had on her, Reed became active in the anti-war movement as a prominent member of the group Another Mother for Peace (AMP). The group is still very active active and shares information such as the recent United Nations report Silence is Violence, End the Abuse of Women in Afghanistan (PDF), encouraging members to act speak, write and act out to encourage peace.
AMP’s Pax Mantra has been a cornerstone for women protesting against war in the United States for decades, including when Reed was a member. This simple, but powerful statement ends, “they shall not send my son to fight another mother’s son. For now, forever, there is no mother who is enemy to another mother.”
Donna Reed image by BooBooGB
The death of writer J.D. Salinger last week renewed the public’s interest in his reclusive life-style. According to most accounts, Salinger lived a fairly conventional life until after the publication of his most well-known work The Catcher in the Rye – some claim that he actively sought fame and success until he found it and, with no explanation, retreated. He’s in the good company of other famous recluses including: Harper Lee, Lauryn Hill and Bobby Fischer.
Perhaps because the very nature of anti-social behaviour is a closing off from society, it remains something that very few people understand, including those in the medical community. In recent years, pathologically reclusive behaviour has become such a phenomenon in Japan that it has been given its own name: hikikomori. Although his figures are disputed, psychologist Tamaki Saito has estimated that “there may be one million hikikomori in Japan, representing 20% of all male adolescents in Japan, or 1% of the total Japanese population.” According to a fascinating profile of hikikomori in the New York Times, “though female hikikomori exist and may be under counted, experts estimate that about 80 percent of the hikikomori are male, some as young as 13 or 14 and some who live in their rooms for 15 years or more.”
Unlike most of the young hikikomori of Japan, Salinger did seem to reach out to people – he was married a number of times and had two children. Time and again, these relationships tended to be fraught and often ended abruptly. Salinger’s daughter Margaret published a memoir about him and wrote, “His search . . . led him increasingly to relations in two dimensions: with his fictional Glass family, or with living ‘pen pals’ he met in letters, which lasted until meeting in person when the three-dimensional, flesh-and-blood presence of them would, with the inevitability of watching a classic tragedy unfold, invariably sow the seeds of the relationship’s undoing.”
J.D. Salinger’s version of events? “You can’t ever find a place that’s nice and peaceful, because there isn’t any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you’re not looking, somebody’ll sneak up and write “Fuck you” right under your nose.” (source)
Image from Strawberrymilkchocolate.
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