In the shadowy corners of the shortwave spectrum lurk the Numbers Stations: strange radio broadcasts of mysterious blocks of numbers in creepy monotone voices!
It's actually an old form of spycraft which is still in use today. And as it's #WorldRadioDay let's take a listen...
A Numbers Station is a type of one-way voice link for sending information to spies in foreign countries.
Operating on Short Wave radio bands they transmit a secret code of spoken numbers. Use of Numbers Stations peaked during the Cold War, but some are still operating today.
Numbers Stations are operated by various national intelligence agencies. At set times on a pre-arranged frequency a musical tone is played, followed by a speech synthesised voice reading out blocks of numbers. To most listeners it sounds both creepy and meaningless.
However to spies it can be vital. The numbers can be decoded to reveal a message, provided the spy has the right One Time Pad (OTP) - a random number key that is only used once before it is destroyed. OTP encryption is impossible to break if done correctly.
Why broadcast your secret message on Short Wave? Because it can be picked up across the globe. All a spy needs is a shop bought SW radio, a pencil, and the correct One Time Pad and they - and only they - can decipher the message. No complex kit is required.
For decades governments have denied running Numbers Stations, and for decades amateur radio enthusiasts have documented and recorded the stations to prove they do exist. It's only recently that more information about them has begun to emerge.
The Lincolnshire Poacher was a Numbers Station run by British Intellegence from Cyprus up until 2008. It played a minute of music before a female synthesised voice would read out 200 blocks of five digit numbers. Here's a clip:
Swedish Rhapsody was run by Polish Intelligence during the Cold War. It used a Stasi Sprach-Morse-Generator to synthesize a child's voice reading out number codes in German, preceded by a song from a music box. Here's how it sounded:
Gong was a Stasi run Numbers Station operating from East Germany. A series of gong strikes would be broadcast every half hour followed by the command "Achtung!" and the code number sequences. Here's a clip:
Not every Numbers Station broadcast numbers. Some stations, such as Whalesong, broadcast 'backwards music', a series of tones that would need to be recorded and deciphered by specialist equipment:
UVB-76 isn't a Numbers Station, but it has continuously broadcast a series of buzzing sounds for 45 years across Russia. Is it just a channel marker, or could it be a 'Dead Hand' system to launch a nuclear retaliation if Moscow is destroyed? Hmm...:
Numbers Stations may sound quaint, but they are still used today by many countries: a global signal with unbreakable encryption that is very hard to intercept - why reinvent a method that works?
More spy stories another time...
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Would you like to live in a UFO? Well in 1968 you could, thanks to Finnish architect Matti Suuronen. He created the Futuro House and for a while it was a worldwide sensation!
Let's take a look around...
The Futuro was a round prefabricated house initially designed as a ski chalet. Quick to build and easy to heat it reflected the optimism of the times.
Inside the spacious Futuro were all the 1960s mod cons: a central cooker/heater, reclining chairs, funky furniture and cool, crisp lines. Did it have shagpile carpets? Of course it did!
It's now over half a century since 1970, and I'm starting to wonder if we should bring back its concept of gracious modern living...
You see we've grown so used to Swedish-style modernism that we've sort of forgotten that maximalism, rather than minimalism, was once the sign of a cultured abode.
The 1970s in many ways reached back to the rich ideas of Victorian decor: heavy, autumnal and cluttered. Home was meant to be a baroque and sensual experience, rather than a 'machine for living in.'
I'm very sorry to hear that Rowena Morrill has passed away. Her art graced many wonderful book covers over a long career, gaining her a legion of fans worldwide. She was a huge part of the SF&F publishing landscape and her talents will be sorely missed.
Rowena Morrill's original cover art for Darkspell, by Katharine Kerr. Del Rey, 1987.
Rowena Morrill's original cover art for Master of the Five Magics, by Lyndon Hardy. Del Rey, 1980.
Today is #WomenInSTEM day, and I want to look back at a group of courageous working class women whose battle against fake 'science' and industry malpractice led to us all having a right to a safer workplace.
This is the story of the Radium Girls...
Radium, in the form of radium chloride, was discovered by Marie and Pierre Curie in 1898 and isolated in its metallic state in 1911. Radium amazed people: it seemed to contradict the principle of the conservation of energy. 'Radioactivty' soon became a new buzzword.
It wasn't long before radium products began appearing. The WWl Trench Watch used self-luminous radium paint to make the watch dial and hands visible in the dark, but not so visible that enemy snipers could identify the wearer. It soon became standard kit for Officers.
"Tired of reality? Escape into the world of role-playing games." In particular one whose corporate history is a wild mix of battle, quests and the fickleness of fortune.
Today in pulp... the story of Dungeons & Dragons!
The history of Dungeons & Dragons and its parent company TSR is complex, like the game. It's full of feuds, schisms, colourful characters, chance happenings and fabulous riches. Again, like the game. So where to begin?
Pulp fiction - especially Robert E Howard, Michael Moorcock and Fritz Lieber - was a huge influence on Dungeons & Dragons: monsters, spells, magic armour and complex class systems all feature in it, derived from the ultimate ur-text - Lord of the Rings.
The War on Drugs had at least one success. What it defeated was a compound that was a sleep aid, a party pill and a chemical warfare agent. A drug that showed that substance abuse and medicine could sometimes go hand in hand.
This is the story of Quaaludes...
The name 'Quaalude' is a pun, a marketing play on the phrase 'quiet interlude'. Developed in the US by Rorer and then by Lemmon as a sleep aid for the stressed, by 1983 production was stopped "due to the increasingly adverse legislative climate surrounding the product."
Quaalude itself is simply a brand name for Methaqualone. In the UK and elsewhere it was called Mandrax. And it was certainly popular: by 1965 it was Britain's most-prescribed sedative.
As the saying went "'Ludes and Mandies, prescribed like candies."