The Pulp Magazines Project has just posted the first several issues of Amazing Stories. Read the classic pulp magazine edited by Hugo Gernsback in all its scanned-in glory, with stories by H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Edgar Allan Poe, Murray Leinster and more.

When parents explained to their offspring about Guy Fawkes and his attempt to blow up Parliament, there always seemed to be an undertone of admiration in their voices, or at least there did in Northampton.

While that era’s children perhaps didn’t see Fawkes as a hero, they certainly didn’t see him as the villainous scapegoat he’d originally been intended as.

At the start of the 1980s when the ideas that would coalesce into V for Vendetta were springing up from a summer of anti-Thatcher riots across the UK coupled with a worrying surge from the far-right National Front, Guy Fawkes’ status as a potential revolutionary hero seemed to be oddly confirmed by circumstances surrounding the comic strip’s creation: it was the strip’s artist, David Lloyd, who had initially suggested using the Guy Fawkes mask as an emblem for our one-man-against-a-fascist-state lead character.

When this notion was enthusiastically received, he decided to buy one of the commonplace cardboard Guy Fawkes masks that were always readily available from mid-autumn, just to use as convenient reference.

To our great surprise, it turned out that this was the year (perhaps understandably after such an incendiary summer) when the Guy Fawkes mask was to be phased out in favour of green plastic Frankenstein monsters geared to the incoming celebration of an American Halloween.

It was also the year in which the term “Guy Fawkes Night” seemingly disappeared from common usage, to be replaced by the less provocative ‘bonfire night’.

At the time, we both remarked upon how interesting it was that we should have taken up the image right at the point where it was apparently being purged from the annals of English iconography. It seemed that you couldn’t keep a good symbol down.

The National Museum of Computing (TNMOC) has turned to a tried-and-tested fundraising method to establish a home for the rebuilt Colossus computer at Bletchley Park.

Individuals and firms are invited to buy up pixels of an online picture of the wartime code-breaking machine — at 10 pence per dot with a minimum spend of £10 — pretty much like Alex Tew’s million-dollar homepage effort.

The museum’s curators need the cash to open an exhibition featuring the Colossus in the historic Block H, on the spot where Colossus No 9 stood during the Second World War and where the rebuild took place.

Colossus was the world’s first electronic programmable computer, and was used to crack encrypted messages between Hitler and his generals.

Bud Abbott and Lou Costello are perhaps best known for their comedy sketch Who’s on First?

But in the 1950s, the duo caught the FBI’s attention for other reasons.

“A police informant furnished information to the effect that Bud Abbott, the well-known motion picture and television star, is a collector of pornography, and alleged he has 1,500 reels of obscene motion pictures,” an agent wrote in an FBI file.

Of Costello, agents reported: “Information was secured reflecting that two prostitutes put on a lewd performance for Lou Costello,” for which they were paid $50 each.

[. . .]

During the era of legendary FBI director J Edgar Hoover, “you could find a reason to open a file on anyone”, says Steve Rosswurm, a historian at Lake Forest College in Illinois and author of a book about the FBI’s dealings with the Catholic Church.

“The reasons for the surveillance are as varied as the people being watched,” said British writer Nicholas Redfern, author of Celebrity Secrets: Official Government Files on the Rich and Famous

“It was very much dependent upon the character or the situation the subject of the file was in.”

Today, the bureau’s Cold War-era fears of communist infiltration, obscenity and homosexuality sound almost quaint..

Today marks the 60th anniversary of Elizabeth II’s accession to the Throne of Great Britain in February of 1952. There can hardly be many heads of state, past or present, who have witnessed so many major events over so long a period. Elizabeth has outlasted 12 British prime ministers, 10 Canadian ones and 11 U.S. presidents. Decolonization, the Cold War, the space race, civil rights for minority groups, various assassinations and international regime changes have all taken place during her reign. From the grim austerity days following the end of the Second World War to the technological wonders of the early 21st century, Elizabeth as princess and queen has seen Britain transform from a quasi-imperial nation to something less than the superpower it was a century ago.

A number of events are planned to celebrate this year’s Diamond Jubilee, capped by a massive flotilla of boats accompanying the queen’s barge up the Thames on June 3. Members of the Royal Family will visit all 15 countries of which the queen is head of state, and Elizabeth herself will travel extensively within the United Kingdom.

Royal jubilees are rare things at the best of times, but none rarer than 60th anniversaries. Over 1,000 years of British monarchy there have been only two Diamond Jubilees, and the last one occurred not in the last century, but the one before, in 1897, when Queen Victoria celebrated her own reign of 60 years. To this day, Victoria remains the longest-serving British monarch on record, ascending the throne on the death of her uncle William IV, in 1837, and seeing Britain grow into the most extensive global empire since Rome.

Update: Even some self-described anti-monarchists think she’s been a fine Queen:

But admiration for the monarch might be unexpected coming from me. After all, I’m a republican.

Heredity is just about the silliest method I can think of for selecting someone to govern a country. Think Kim Jong-Il.

[. . .]

It’s true that bad prime minister, premiers and presidents can stick around long enough to rot in office. But no elected leader gets to stay for 60 years. Democracies may be imperfect, but they are self-correcting in a way hereditary monarchies never can be.

So why such effusive praise for our Queen from such a staunch anti-monarchist? Because Elizabeth has been a remarkable queen, an inspirational queen, steadfast, steady, intelligent, balanced and above reproach. She has seldom, if ever, put a foot wrong. Without her pitch-perfect discharge of her duties, it is entirely possible the British monarchy would have gone the way of other European royalty decades ago.

In short, Elizabeth is the Queen we would have chosen to elect if a campaign were ever held to select our monarch. Heredity may have placed her on the throne, but had voters ever been asked, democracy would have kept here there. I can think of no elected leader who could have acted so impeccably in office to remain popular from 1952 until today. Indeed, if anything, the Queen is more popular today than at any time since the first years after her accession. And it is an earned popularity, a reward for her unwavering commitment to serve her subjects and the people of the Commonwealth.

A small cadre of highly skilled professionals do the jobs with enormous machines once done by vast armies of peasant labourers; which is what’s happening to manufacturing. British industrial production is rising barring recessionary glitches, UK industrial production has kept rising for most of the last 100 years. We are still producing lots of things that can be dropped on a foot. It’s just it’s no longer done by the descendants of those peasants who left the land during the industrial revolution to seek work in factories. Those factories still exist, but they employ a small number of highly paid people to operate machines which do the riveting, welding, assembling and polishing. Each machine takes does the job of hundreds of people.

That’s what happened in Agriculture, and is happening in Manufacturing. And THIS IS A GOOD THING. Because all those people not employed in riveting in Tyneside shipyards or Scything Lincolnshire corn fields are employed doing something else for someone else. All that productive labour has been freed, but we’re still getting the food produced, in abundance the Lincolnshire harvestman would have thought impossible.

The majority of Western economies are now services. Even the Germans, who’ve a niche in Machine tools and Automobiles have only 21% of their economy in making things they can drop on their feet.

And this reflects another point. Manufactured products are getting cheaper, so to have material wealth unimaginable to our Lincolnshire harvestman requires far fewer hours of Labour to achieve. Thus cars, the most expensive manufactured products most of us buy, are getting cheaper relative to average earnings, decade by decade. A reliable runaround would have been beyond the means of a WW2 factory worker, but is available to a cleaning lady now. So the same car forms a smaller part of the economy. Having spent less on the car, we can spend more on clothes, shoes, music, computers, kitchen appliances etc, and in so doing provide jobs to people supplying those things. Above all we can pay for people do do things for us – cut our hair, serve us food in restaurants, mediate for us legally, invest our surplus production into other productive activities, heal our illnesses and so on.

[. . .]

The next challenge is to banish stress and misery from our lives. I suspect this will be harder. The only caveat is that I have a great deal more faith in Adam Smith’s “invisible hand” (a much maligned and misunderstood idea) than the idiotic ideas of politicians. Politicians still seem to think manufacturing jobs are special, which suggests they don’t understand why we’re rich. The only limitless resource is man’s ingenuity. Markets aren’t an ideology, they’re simply what works in the absence of one, by deploying that one limitless resource to everyone’s benefit.

She always called him “Mr. President” — not Jack. He refused to kiss her on the lips when they made love. But Mimi Alford, a White House intern from New Jersey, was smitten nonetheless.

She was in the midst of an 18-month affair with the most powerful man in the world, sharing not only John F. Kennedy’s bed but also some of his darkest and most intimate moments.

In her explosive new tell-all, Once Upon a Secret: My Affair with President John F. Kennedy and Its Aftermath, Alford, now a 69-year-old grandmother and retired New York City church administrator, sets the record straight in searingly candid detail. The book, out Wednesday was bought by The Post at a Manhattan bookstore.

Can I suggest that you try the following experiment? Gather up a group of bright, reasonably well-educated 18-year-olds and ask them what world event occurred in 1945. They will, almost certainly, be able to give you an informed account of how the Second World War ended, and at least a generally accurate picture of its aftermath. Now try asking them what historical milestone came to pass in 1989. I am willing to bet that this question will produce mute, blank looks.

The fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of communism which followed it are hugely important to any proper understanding of the present world and of the contemporary political economy. Why is it that they have failed to be addressed with anything like their appropriate awesome significance, let alone found their place in the sixth-form curriculum?

The failure of communism should have been, after all, not just a turning point in geo-political power — the ending of the Cold War and the break-up of the Warsaw Pact — but in modern thinking about the state and its relationship to the economy, about collectivism vs individualism, and about public vs private power. Where was the discussion, the trenchant analysis, or the fundamental debate about how and why the collectivist solutions failed, which should have been so pervasive that it would have percolated down from the educated classes to the bright 18-year-olds? Fascism is so thoroughly (and, of course, rightly) repudiated that even the use of the word as a casual slur is considered slanderous, while communism, which enslaved more people for longer (and also committed mass murder), is regarded with almost sentimental condescension.

The Queen has an outstanding record of absolutely unblemished service, through tumultuous changes and always having to endure suggestions of impending obsolescence — not just of the monarchy itself, but of its various separate functions, especially the ambiguous positions of head of the Commonwealth and supreme governor of the Church of England.

The 1950s were a constant round of independence ceremonies, mainly for countries that had a very rocky start and little aptitude for premature emancipation from unfashionable colonials status. This made for ever larger and more incongruous Commonwealth meetings, as the shared British traditions that supposedly united the “British Dominions, realms and territories beyond the seas” frayed and became always more threadbare except, perhaps, among the former so-called “white Dominions.”

In this present time of glaring, intrusive, nasty media, it is hard to imagine the proportions of the Queen’s achievement in serving 60 years, every one of them as one of the most prominent and publicized people in the world, without one gaffe, one embarrassing photograph, one injudicious utterance or slip on a banana peel, literal or metaphoric.

[. . .]

Queen Elizabeth II has personified the British middle-class virtues: moderation, unflamboyant consistency and unflappable reliability. It hasn’t always been exciting, and in satirical magazines such as Private Eye and on the BBC, she has paid a price for that and was lampooned for decades for stiff formality and stilted phrases — “My husband and I,” etc.