Time for a pulp countdown now, so here's my top 10 future inventions we were promised by Popular Mechanics magazine that we're still waiting for! #SaturdayMotivation
At #10: motorised unicycles! This was a very popular Edwardian idea inspired by the penny farthing bicycle. Although a few prototypes were made we never really fell in love with driving one big wheel. Also: not great in the rain...
At #9: personal radar. Now this is actually a pretty neat idea and a number of cars now use radar or lidar as an anti- aid. We're still waiting for it to be built into a hat however.
At #8: the ion drive. Some space probes do use this as an efficient incremental mode of propulsion. Getting it to power flight on Earth is a bit trickier.
At #7: wearable gyrocopters. More powerful than jetpacks the concept certainly works, but it's still a solution in search of a problem. Oh, and deafeningly loud!
At #6: airships for everyon. The airship is the quintessential pulp mode of transport and modern blimps are pretty safe. But we still don't like to travel by gasbag, no matter how sustainable it may actually be.
At #5: air tugs. Having one aircraft transport another one can make sense: it's one way to crack the problem of single stage to orbit flight. Virgin Galactic are the only current takers though.
At #4: rocket-assisted vehicles. It's a neat way to manoeuvre a truck on tricky terrain, or to break a speeding car quickly, but putting rockets on cars is probably going to cause more problems than it solves.
At #3: recreational helicopters. The 1950s was the heyday of recreational flight ideas; soon we would all vacation in the Sikorsky RV. However we still stubbornly refuse to embrace the chopper as a flying Winnebago. It's hard enough towing a caravan!
At #2: monorails. Why we still think this is futuristic is beyond me. It's certainly not faster than traditional rail and apart from shuttling people around theme parks or airports it's remained a niche proposition.
And of course, at #1: flying cars! We've been promised this for so long that I'm beginning to think it will never happen.
That's it for our paleo-futuristic look at Popular Mechanics. More gee-whizz history another time...
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
Given the current heatwave, I feel obliged to ask my favourite question: is it time to bring back the leisure suit?
Let's find out...
Now we all know what a man's lounge suit is, but if we're honest it can be a bit... stuffy. Formal. Businesslike. Not what you'd wear 'in da club' as the young folks say.
So for many years tailors have been experimenting with less formal, but still upmarket gents attire. The sort of garb you could wear for both a high level business meeting AND for listening to the Moody Blues in an espresso bar. Something versatile.
Today in pulp I look back at the publishing phenomenon of gamebooks: novels in which YOU are the hero!
A pencil and dice may be required for this thread...
Gamebooks are a simple but addictive concept: you control the narrative. At the end of each section of the story you are offered a choice of outcomes, and based on that you turn to the page indicated to see what happens next.
Gamebook plots are in fact complicated decision tree maps: one or more branches end in success, but many more end in failure! It's down to you to decide which path to tread.
He was the terror of London; a demonic figure with glowing eyes and fiery breath who could leap ten feet high. The penny dreadfuls of the time wrote up his exploits in lurid terms. But who was he really?
Today I look at one of the earliest pulp legends: Spring-Heeled Jack!
London has always attracted ghosts, and in the 19th Century they increasingly left their haunted houses and graveyards and began to wader the capital's streets.
But one apparition caught the Victorian public attention more than most...
In October 1837 a 'leaping character' with a look of the Devil began to prey on Londoners. Often he would leap high into the air and land in front of a carriage, causing it to crash. It would then flee with a high-pitched laugh.