Politicians... and other scary things for Halloween

Postcard: Ronald Reagan, by Morris Katz (1988), "in the style of the Old Masters"

Fall ... the leaves drop, the days start to grow cold and short, and politicians roam the earth. Scary stuff indeed.

Halloween is almost here, and the election is four days later. I put up the decorations last weekend: the full-size skeleton in the living-room, the realistic bat in the corner, the big furry spiders on the windows. Haven't found a John McCain mask yet, but I'm sure I can find one out there somewhere. Still, the neighborhood has changed; ten years ago I would have stashes of candy for the drunken college kids next door who would go door-to-door, beer-in-hand. Now the candy is for the families with young kids, who begin arriving before sundown and keep appearing until nine o'clock. This year, I've decided to go on a chocolate-candy binge: Milky Way bars, Junior Mints, chocolate peanut-butter pumpkins. Send the kids into their own sugary ADHD orbit. Now, that's scary.

The card of Ronald Reagan (above) showed up at the TV station in 1993. The flip advertised a postcard club show in Atlanta, but the postcard itself is one of those images that has a strange, otherworldly quality about it: is it the oddly-bent flag? Reagan's resolute gaze? Seldom has an American politician looked so ... unsettling. There's a small photo of the artist, Morris Katz, on the back of the card, as well as a credit to the Guinness Book of World Records, so I'm not really sure what's going on here, but the overall effect is fairly chilling, somehow.

Postcard: Vice President Dick Cheney, unwitting ad shill for Working Assets phone service

Apparently even the corporate world understands how spooky politics can be; the other day I opened my mailbox to find this postcard of a smiling Dick Cheney peering back at me. Even mobile phone offers now emphasize the politics-is-personal hook: "Sorry to say, but AT&T's political-action committee contributed the maximum amount allowable by law to the Bush/Cheney campaign -- twice. ... To get your phone in line with your values, get in touch ASAP."

Where's George W.? Apparently his poll numbers are sinking so fast that Vice President Cheney is the scarier G.O.P. figurehead at this point. Maybe the "V" in V.P. stands for "vampire": Mr. Cheney's been hanging around Washington since he served as Gerald Ford's chief-of-staff, in 1976.

Who better to pal around with a vampire than a zombie? This postcard is in a set of Hollywood horror movie cards (Plan 9 from Outer Space, I Was a Teenage Werewolf, Attack of the 50-Foot Woman, etc.) given to me by Tom Hill. The stars! The horror! The low budgets! Produced by Val Lewton (The Cat People, The Cat Creeps), I Walked With a Zombie (1943) also provided a great title for a song by the legendary Texas musician, Roky Erickson, the original 13th Floor Elevator himself. Roky has a spooky history all by himself, too. The movie title provides the entire song lyric, a nice trick even a zombie can remember.


Vampires ... zombies ... bats. This card I got from sister Joan, "in the crispy north," a description which raises images of either a warm day in hell or (more likely in Minnesota) weather cold enough to freeze a nose off -- the perfect look for Halloween. And here's some Halloween art from young Sophie, age 4, showing some real talent: strong lines, figure-ground balance, and a fine appreciation of collage techniques.

Postcard: Sophie Marts, age 4

Vampires, goblins and other creatures of the night will be out this Friday, and then the politicians have their chance to go for the jugular on Tuesday November 4. (Perhaps the superstitious can wield the power of the absentee ballot.) Stock up on the treats, beware of tricks and voting machine malfunctions, but most of all have fun -- if you dare!

2000: The Dexter saga (a cat's cannonball run)

My brother Rick is the historian of the family. There's a saying (from John Ford's 1960 movie The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance) that he would probably agree with: "when the legend becomes fact, print the legend." May we all be legendary in our own lives -- even if it's all just in the family ....

My cat Dexter is happy in his own backyard, mostly. But even he has some stories to tell: he has disappeared for weeks at a time away from the dinner dish. Still he always returns, scarred and battle-hardened. Where does he go? Well, he's one of the lucky ones: he's a legend in his own lifetime thanks to Rick, who invented a Dexter history as far back as the War Between the States, or "the recent unpleasantness," as it's referred to over summer's mint juleps in Atlanta. Back in June, 2000, I got a series of postcards from the road as my brother came across towns that apparently have been visited by Dexter's Civil War ancestors. Herewith, for the benefit of future feline historians, is the Dexter saga photographed and told by Rick on the road.

The Dexter saga, part 1:

postcard: Dexter City, OH (6/10/2000)
In the state of Ohio in 1867 there was a rebel leader from the Southern army, from a Georgia regiment, who had been in a Yankee prison since the end of the Civil War. Ordinarily, cats weren't considered a high risk, but this cat (one "Sgt. Dexter") was so uncontrollable that the Yankee prison guards made the decision to lynch him.

One night a group of guards overpowered Sgt. Dexter and and lynched him in the prison yard. The next day the local townsfolk were so incensed by this they renamed their small Ohio town "Dexter City" in his memory. Sgt. Dexter was reportedly the last cat ever hanged during wartime. His saga must be told!

postcard: Dexter City, OH historical society image (6/14/2000)

The Dexter saga, part 2:

... or was Sgt Dexter really hanged? There are those who hold that a sympathetic guard cut him down, nursed him back to health, and arranged for Sgt. Dexter to make a daring escape during spring planting season.

Longtime residents claim this historic picture, above, offers evidence that the load of hay being carried right through downtown is hiding the scarred but healthy body of a cat on the run. All folks when asked about the Sgt. Dexter sightings have replied: "well I never personally saw him but my grandfather knows a man who said he saw Sgt. Dexter heading west" in hopes of setting up a community where all could live and walk the streets as free cats. Did Dexter's dream happen?

The Dexter saga, part 3:

postcard: Dexter, Iowa (6/15/2000)

Aha! we say, to all those non-believers. This photo clearly shows that Sgt. Dexter made his trip west and was successful in creating his cat Shangri-La.

Here you can obviously see a street devoid of all humans and devoted to the prosperity of free cats everywhere ...

... and they are proud cats, we might add. As we obviously note, they even have their own chapter of the American Legion ... proving that "once a fighting Dexter, always a fighting Dexter!"

Is this the only proof we have that the spirit of Sgt. Dexter lives on? WE think not!!!!!


The Dexter saga, part 4:

To all of those who ever doubted, we offer below, as proof of Sgt. Dexter's success, an unretouched photograph of a U.S. Postal Services branch located in a distant part of Iowa. You can not fake a Post Office!! They have to be okayed by the U.S Government! If you look very carefully at the glass window right next to the Post Office, you might catch the reflection of -- what is that? could it be?? ........ is this really possible???? Or am I going mad trying to prove my theory?

There are rumors that Dexter's blood and kin have fled to all parts of the world ... carrying on the work of Civil War POW-MIA Sgt. Dexter ... making the world a safe place for free cats everywhere!

postcard: Dexter IA post office, 6/16/2000

Birthdays: life is better with a sugar buzz

Postcard: Tequila mocking bird (2006)

Ah, birthdays. I try to have just one a year now.

They do still keep coming, though: it's the march of time and all that, no matter how infirm the step these days. Am I slowing down? No, the world just keeps raising the speed limit. Dave and his wife Karen, friends of mine now in Vegas, are playing the numbers "5" + "6," a decent combination (not every age adds up to 11, so there's bound to be some luck at craps.) At this point, the vicarious Vegas thrills are exciting enough, though the "Viva Viagra" commercial has ruined one of Elvis' better, later tunes for me. Back in 2006 when I was a youngster of 54, Steve and Shelly sent me the tequila mocking bird card above. After a shot or two of Tres Generaciones that's just what I feel like -- a psychedelic parrot in the desert. Arriba!


Dexter the cat has somehow managed to live on Bellemeade Avenue avoiding the MARTA buses and big rig wheels for ten years now. That's got to be eight lives, at least. When there's a cat in the house, birthday card choices are easy: cats with mice on their head, cats with silly grins, cats with attitude: there's a million choices. Joan sent me this birthday one for number 52: happy shredder cat, which is pretty close to Dexter's outlook on life. I've figured it out: Dexter's not my cat -- I'm his human. Ten years: a full dinner bowl, an open cat door, and Dexter's the Keith Richards of Bellemeade. One lucky cat.

Set the wayback machine, Sherman, for the year 1978: I was living on Juniper Street. The heyday of the "Atlanta strip" was long over but the street was still full of old broken-down houses, boarded-over windows, and real estate just waiting to be "parceled" into 20-story office buildings and luxury hotels.

Rent was $50. The house I shared with four Tech students at 952 was a prime location: directly in back of the Stein Club with its great jukebox, spelling contests, and cheap beer. The Cha Gio restaurant offered a buffet for $2.95, the old 10th Street Art movie house would be running out-of-focus third-run Elvis flicks (Clambake) that no-one watched, and punk clubs like TV Dinner were starting to sprout in the cracks between abandoned buildings. It wouldn't be long before a thousand construction cranes bloomed along Peachtree Street.


It was a perfect place for Snow White, Goofy, and Mickey. Joan sent this birthday card with its green whirl of "happy birthdays" on the flip (and the added green "Baba" hat.) All up and down Juniper St. it was Disney on parade for real: gals, guys, and otherwise in a forgotten area of town full of drunks, punks and lunkheads looking for thrills.

It was all kind of fun in a way, if you didn't mind cleaning up the used hypodermic needles in the front yard on the weekend, like a civic duty. Good times. Midtown was the "tri-bar" area: if you could walk in, you could try anything. The girls, and the "girls," hanging around on Peachtree and 10th in their spiked heels were usually friendly, and you could always outrun those that weren't. (Just be sure to leave your drink at the door.) Today, 952 Juniper is just the entrance to the lower parking deck behind the 999 Building on Peachtree.

From Disney to gone with the wind, for sure.

We're all older and wiser. Aren't we? Liz had been one of the denizens of 952, and she still sends birthday cards these many years later. That should count for something, though I'm not sure toward what. The card below was for the big 5-0, in 2002: Although you're at that awkward age between teenager and codger, you're looking good, dude!

Postcard (2002): "You can run but you can't hide"

What more can you ask? These days I probably couldn't outrun those high-heeled girls, even if they were interested in chasing me. They're at home waiting for hits on their Craigslist ads, anyway. So it goes.

2008: Hey! Five singles! Enough for a shot of Tres Generaciones! Thanks, bro!

Way out there in outer space

postcard: Best Western Space Age Lodge, Gila Bend, AZ

It's Memorial Day weekend, 2008. The NASA spacecraft "Phoenix" is about to land on Mars today after a 240,000,000-mile journey. That's some vacation trip. What's Martian-speak for "are we there yet?" and "just hold it for a few more exits."

In Gila Bend, Arizona, just off historic Route 66, you can visit a little bit of outer space yourself at the Best Western SpaceAge Lodge. Don't worry: you may have left Earth behind but the lodge promises "sparking clean rooms / oversize beds /color cable TV with HBO, ESPN / In-room coffee /24-hour restaurant serving American and Mexican cuisine." I picked up this card in person while tooling around with Chris in a red Dodge Neon rental on our way to San Diego from Tucson.

In 1998 the Lodge had some earth-bound problems: The Space Age Restaurant, which was built in the '60s during the space race, caught fire 10/21/98, when a neon sign shorted out and the roof caught on fire. The hotel next door wasn't damaged, but the restaurant was nearly burned to the ground.

A banner was placed across the structure, informing passers-by that the restaurant had been ATTACKED BY ALIENS. However, all's well that ends well: The Space Age has been resurrected, in most of its former glory. From the outside, it looks the same, flying saucer and all. The inside is more modern, cleaner, but considerably less funky. Returning visitors (none from Mars, unfortunately) report the new murals in the restaurant are interesting, but don't quite measure up to the old ones from the sixties. The outside has been restored, complete with neon and the tacky UFO on the roof.

If anyone makes contact with real Martians I'm sure we'll hear them before we see them, and I'm presuming they'll hear us too. Out in the New Mexico desert is a group of very large radio antennas, 82 feet wide, called, with unquestionable scientific logic, the Very Large Array. The data is combined electronically to give the resolution of a single antenna 22 miles across. It's like holding up a giant microphone to the crackle of the universe, waiting for the first "hello" from somebody besides ourselves -- scary, sure, but a greeting from the cereal-eating Quisp is exciting to think about. Another postcard I picked up on the road out west.

One of the wonderful things about outer space is that we don't know all that much about it, so that it remains a blank canvas for all kinds of artistic imaginings. Albert Einstein may have described how the whole shooting match works, but artists like Lenore Lasher really take us to the outer limits with her spage-age collage from 1989, Quantum Leap.

postcard: Quantum Leap, by Lenore Lasher

As my sister Rene writes on the flip, in July 1992, "How cosmic?! That seems to fit my interpretation of this card." The card offers a very humanistic (and colorfully mystical) view of the vastness beyond. So much for the "emptiness of space."

It's kind of comforting to know that somewhere out there -- beyond the dazzling Indian, the whirling globes, and sparkling gems -- are bound to be cosmic Burma Shave signs, to entertain us as we spin silently past. If you have to ask what's a Burma Shave sign? you can look it up on that new-fangled internet you youngsters seem to like so much.

Free! Free!
A trip to Mars!
For 900
empty jars

BURMA SHAVE


If a trip
to Mars you earn
remember friend
there's no return

BURMA SHAVE

Road food: Cincy chili and Tar Heel pie

postcard: Cincinnati, chili capital of the USA 

What's the point of seeing the USA in your Chevrolet if you only eat at fast food chains? You have an Egg McMuffin, you've had the only one they've got. Once in a while you should step out of your comfort zone and grub like the locals. In Cincinnati, you can get your chili five ways. Five! (Top that, Ronald McDonald.) In case you're wondering, at Skyline Chili it goes like this: make your basic Cincinnati chili (directions on the postcard, courtesy of Cin-city resident Yvonne Witt.) Put it naked in a bowl: there's your first way. Served over spaghetti, that's 2-way. Chili over spaghetti, topped with grated cheddar cheese: 3-way. Put chopped onions on that, you got your 4-way. Here comes the twist: the 5-way is the same as the 4-way, adding kidney beans to your chili. Got that? If you're too hungry for Skyline's higher math, you can always just order the Coney topped with chili, cheese and onions. Don't forget the Altoids!

February, 1993: Marge Schott, owner of the Cincinnati Reds, is fined $25,000 and banned from daily operations of the baseball team for -- oh, let's just say she used some colorful language about some of her employees, shall we? May, 1993: my friends Joy and Liz stop at Skyline Chili: "Saw Marge Schott drowning her sorrows in some 5-way chili," Liz writes. Wow, 5-way and a Marge Schott sighting: that's livin' la vida Cincinnati!

Postcard: Tar Heel Pie, North Carolina

Can there be anything better than chili from "the chili capital of the USA?" It's just possible. Later in that same trip I get my answer from Liz herself: this North Carolina card features a recipe for Tar Heel pie. Of course, you can't go too wrong with a recipe calling for a cup of chocolate chips and a stick of butter. Add some chopped pecans (how else would you know you were in the south? Oh, yeah -- that whole stick of butter), flour, sugar, vanilla, eggs, and ... brown sugar, too. Sweet. I should try this someday, just before a trip to the dentist. A note from Liz: "better than Cincy chili?" She was south of the Mason-Dixon line when she wrote it. Thank goodness Marge Schott had no comment.

Postcard: Cornmeal Pancakes favored since early West Virginia

Cincinnati chili and tar heel pie: that should hold you till breakfast. And for breakfast? If you're driving through Morgantown on your way to the Andy Warhol museum in Pittsburgh, skip that Egg McMuffin again, and sample the cornmeal pancakes, "favored since early West Virginia." (No butter stick this time -- basically just cornmeal, milk and eggs. Pour on the griddle, and flip just once. Then help yourself to the butter and syrup, and your choice: sausage or bacon.) Joy and Liz sent this card on a trip to Pittsburgh in July 1998: "old Ukranian ladies, families, pierced and tattooed kids" along E. Carson St. My bet is there's got to be a postcard with a great recipe for pierogi somewhere along the Strip. Gotta find it, or just wait long enough: Joy and Liz will send it some day ...

Hollywood tragedy: Elvis, Marilyn, and James Dean

Postcard: Tyrone Power in "Blood and Sand" (1941)

Old Hollywood -- maybe not ancient, silent, black'n'white, but still really old Hollywood. Those were the days. Stars actually had privacy back then, or at least an agent who spent time keeping them out of the newspapers! Imagine. There will be a day far into the future when Lindsay, Zack, Miley, Angelina, Casey, Katie, Brad, Ben, Matt and every Hollywood star who's ever appeared on the cover of People magazine will be as fondly recalled (if not as outrageously costumed) as Tyrone or Carmen. Even Lindsay has already dressed up -- or is that dressed off? -- as Marilyn, so that day may not be as far off as I hope.

What the current crop of stars needs is, of course, some real tragedy, and not "the court took my babies away" trailer sagas of Britney'n'K Fed. (Her head-shaving seems like a promising start, but still: hair grows back.) Real tragedy, like the heart attack that killed Tyrone Power on the set of Solomon and Sheba in 1959. The postcard above shows Tyrone in costume from his remake of the Valentino flick Blood and Sand. (Nice pants!) The flip says Power was "the star in a host of big pictures," but no mention of a few that got away: he turned down the Burt Lancaster role in From Here to Eternity, and was turned down for the role of Ashley Wilkes in Gone With the Wind. Adding insult to injury, the director of Solomon and Sheba kept Power's performances in the completed film. Now, that's tragic. My friend Liz sent this card in 1988, originally from the Movieland Wax Museum, then she and Joy were off to Seattle, Canada and points north. In May. Brrrr.

Postcard: Carmen Miranda

My sister Rene sent this card of the other divine Miss M (above) just before I went to visit her for July Fourth, 1994. Carmen provides more Hollywood tragedy: another early heart attack, in 1955. She didn't smoke or drink, says her biography, so maybe it was the outrageous headwear that did Miss Miranda in. James Dean made his exit by car crash on September 30, 1955: it was a busy year. Death is such an iffy career move, but in the case of the movie mags, like on the postcard below, tragedy sells. Is it any wonder Elvis would come to a tragic end after being paired with Jimmy here? The flip only mentions Dean, so apparently it was only a matter of time. Those magazines knew. I bet Col. Parker sweated over Elvis' death odds every morning for years ....

Postcard: Elvis & Jimmy, direct from Amsterdam (1987)

Patrick writes from Amsterdam, 1987:
More soul music on the radio here than in Atlanta. Not necessarily better. Lots of Afro/reggae/hiphop groups playing around town ... Record stores -- one had a "wreckabilly" category ... more 60s and psych discs than you could shake a thai stick at -- Georgia Satellites disc elsewhere. Many music videos for sale. Guy in front of the train station w/ Strat, playing "Blue Suede Shoes." I give it a 2.

Postcard: Marilyn sends square-cut or pear-shaped birthday wishes from Rocky, 1986

And what more can be said about Marilyn? Not much at this late date. I don't know, maybe Lindsay's recent magazine photos posing as Marilyn may be one of those weird omen-like events that begs the phrase be careful what you ask for. Look what happened to poor Anna Nicole, for instance -- she was pure Texas trailer, but she didn't fool around with that Britney haircut jive. She went straight for the slow-motion pills, just like Marilyn. Rocky, once an actor, writes: I'm going to be in New York all summer and possibly for years to come. (See the "Woody and Christ at the Met" card in the post of March 22) -- Rocky eventually studies for the Episcopal priesthood, side-stepping all the lure of that Hollywood drama. Smart boy.

Spring break!

Aruba stamp (the closest I'll ever get to waterskiing)




It's March -- that month when the nights are cold and days can be beautiful, except for the occasional tornado to hit downtown Atlanta. The crocus in the front yard has suddenly appeared, though -- a sure sign that April is coming and winter will be gone for good. Still, the high today may reach only 50 degrees, and I hope the weather makes its mind up soon. Its definitely time to think about warmer weather, sunshine, and cloudless blue skies: in other words, places to go on Spring break!

Postcard: Paul's action-packed Aruba, 1996

Somewhere like Aruba, where my friend Paul spent some time in 1996. He sent a card that describes the island's attractions sounding like a James Bond movie: "really action packed: scuba, dirt bikes, windsurfing, fire walking, topless bathing. The whole bit." The back of the card can't help but indulge in a bit of island boosterism: "With its beautiful people, beaches and climate the most popular place under the sun." Not to mention the windmills, the burros, the cooking! (Take a good look at the card by clicking on the link, above.) Aruba has it all ... and then some.

Postcard: idyllic Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas (from Hudson, 1997)

... which means Abaco in the Bahamas might feel a bit left out of where the action is, but that's okay. Here in "tranquil Green Turtle Cay," as the postcard calls it, they like it that way. (Even Bond needs a breather now and then.) My friend Hudson writes: "me and my two boys are either in the water or on the water during the daylight hours," and that the experience is "a mini-retreat of sorts." While I'm sure there's skiing and scuba and all sorts of fun for the Spring break overachiever, I'll take my nap on the (non-nude, thanks) beach covered in suntan lotion, spf45. Wake me for dinner.

Bahamas stamp, 1997

And the country has very nice stamps, too -- always a consideration when deciding where to go on Spring break ...

On the other side of the world, the island of Poros, Greece, is another place where you can "stay on the beach, very relaxing." Be warned: if you decide to spend time indoors in this beautiful spot (and why would you even think of such a thing, but I guess this does happen) my niece Joelle says "they don't believe in air conditioning." She was there in 1997, spent the first two days in Athens, and hadn't found a place with email yet on the island. I guess that's what makes it a real vacation. The card below is a view of the Aegean at Skiathos. No civic boosterism needed on the back of this one: the bright sunshine on the lapis-blue water speaks for itself. If you didn't have to come back from visiting a place like this on Spring break, why would you?

Postcard: Skiathos, Greece

Easter: Woody meets Christ, and the Rapture awaits

According to those who decide these things (devoutly religious people, I'm sure), Easter this year falls one day short the earliest date possible. Even the mystery-busting Snopes.com calls the calculation of Easter ... well, a mystery to the average person. I'll spare you the arcane calculations. It's enough to know that the scheduling of Easter relies on a full moon, the vernal equinox, and some eggs. The next time the holiday falls this early will be in the year 2160 -- and won't occur on its earliest date possible (March 22) until 2285. So, enjoy yourself. Have another chocolate egg.


Blank gift card, 2006. (from Joan?) Brite Muller, Berlin

The Bunny here knows his Easter schedule: there's a full moon behind him. There's no telling when the rapture will occur, though; the end of this mortal world has no specific date, thank goodness. But it certainly seems that Our Lord will return during some really nice weather. This is one of a series of rapture post cards by the artist Leon Bates, "as described in the Bible." The whole series is available at Christian bookstores or through "Bible Believers Evangelical Association," Sherman, TX.

The coming "RAPTURE" by artist Leon Bates as described in the Bible

The card arrived at the TV station where I worked in 1988. It was from Mr. Wright, who thoughtfully attached on the flip a folded religious tract with scotch tape. Underneath was a heartfelt message to increase the amount of religious programing on TV, "or I will have to watch a station with more Christian programing." I'm pretty confident Mr. Wright will not be left behind piloting an eighteen-wheeler like the one in the card when the rapture occurs.

Woody Allen has his own problems, and seems resigned to the whole mess humanity finds itself in, pre-rapture. My friend Rocky sent this from New York April 5, 1988, where he was preparing at Trinity Church for the Episcopalian priesthood. Not all were matters of the spirit for Rocky: "I'm going to Africa -- Kenya and Zaire -- and Egypt with my family in June, and I can't wait." Haven't heard from Rocky in 20 years. Maybe it's time for a Google search.

Postcard: Woody and Christ at the Met, 1963. Copyright 1978 Ruth Orkin

The Blue Fairy, and the Devil on Patrol

Pinocchio sticker added to back of post card

This sticker of Pinocchio (at left) is on the back of the very un-Pinocchio card pictured below, with the following printed in bold type:

"'Brave Pinocchio, you showed courage and a loving heart for your father. You are forgiven for your past misdeeds,' said the blue fairy."

The front of the card  (below) is one of the more mysterious images of my collection, and one that puzzles me still. Perhaps there's a whole subtext to the Pinocchio story I missed. A very, very disturbing one at that: there's a menacing sea creature, along with a dog leaping into the water (does the exclamation point signify he might be having a few doubts?), the fish with teeth ready to tear the flesh from his bones.

Strange. Maybe "Pinocchio" reads differently in the original Italian?

Postcard: Pinocchio. Artist: Sara Fonelli (1996)

At any rate, the card was sent by my sister Joan in 1996, from Minneapolis. She felt bad for not ordering some geraniums.

Another notch up on the anxiety scale is global annihilation. Below is the very realistic rendering of what such a colorful -- one might say once-in-a-lifetime -- event might look like: "The Devil on Patrol." Just to make sure the viewer knows that Satan is up to no good, it says so right there in parentheses.

On the flip, there's more: "No. 5, 1001 Ideas for Sinners." Designed by John Stalin for Artists' Rifles, London, 1983. With an advertising pitch aimed straight for the heart of any Armageddon-fearing paranoid or man-about-town:

Complete set of eighteen designs plus two bonus cards. Merry new year! Big Brother is watching YOU. Large color poster by John Stalin. Not subtle.

Published by SMERSH, Old Gloucester Street, London. The cold war was still hot. That Stalin name carried that old "Internationale" magic.

Yet another card from my sister Joan: 2006. A birthday this time. (I got a mobile for my living room. No geraniums, though.)

Postcard: The Devil on Patrol: (Up to No Good), John Stalin (1988)