Alien Report!

"The Isolator is a bizarre helmet invented in 1925 that was used to help increase focus and concentration by rendering the wearer deaf, piping them full of oxygen, and limiting their vision to a tiny horizontal slit. The Isolator was invented by Hugo Gernsback, editor of Science and Invention magazine, member of “The American Physical Society,” and one of the pioneers of science fiction."

This post started out as a sort of "whuzzat?" feature, with all sorts of bizarre semi-recognizable images in it. Then I became bored. I've posted stuff on The Isolator before, and decided that since it was the only thing that interested me, I'd isolate my search.

When I first encountered this headgear from the Land of Strange, there was all of one photo of it, the black and white one at the top. This time, I wasn't exactly overwhelmed with results, but this nice color one popped up on a magazine cover. (Do you get a sort of Ripley's Believe It or Not feeling from this? Was it dreamed, or nightmared, or did it actually exist? I find it hard to believe that this had been a "thing", that someone took the time to build one and actually wear it.)

It looks like "a thing", but maybe this is just a prototype. I can't quite believe there's a human being in there. The "tube" looks like old-style electrical cord, in which case you'd do more than inhale and exhale. You'd probably be electrocuted.

Weirdness like this does something to your perspective. I have heard that there are levels of time and reality that exist parallel to each other, but that once in a while two streams bisect, or there is a shift, so that one is suddenly aware of another level. And it's not the same, not the same, not the same thing at all. One feels a sort of vertigo, a blurring-together of the known with the unknown. And you can't even tell anyone what you've experienced, because all you can do is exclaim to yourself and to the aching reaches of the Universe: 

This gets weirder. The Isolator, which to me looks like nothing more than a portable padded cell, is surprisingly similar to Kevin, the tall two-eyed minion from Despicable Me.

      

       

See the resemblance? But it's missing something. The Isolator doesn't look like hard plastic or metal or wood. I don't know what sort of material the guy used, but it looks like felt or something. It's sort of soft and felty, almost - squishy. Almost like. . . 

YES! 

Call it The Twinkilator. 

Twinkies are not to be messed with. They can be as forbidding and intergalactic-looking as that old head-widdly thing. As witness:

Twinkie the Kid!

And tell me honestly, doesn't this look like a Twinkie writing up a scientific report? Either that, or a slightly overdone corn dog.

I am not sure I want to elaborate further, for I have already reached a terrible conclusion. The Isolator isn't like a minion or a Twinkie or even a corn dog, because it ISN'T REAL: it doesn't exist, and maybe never existed! It's just some useless mad-scientist, drawing-board thing done on commission for that scientific magazine, which looks about as scientific as a Marvel Comic.

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But then I found. . . this.

This looks real as fuck. It does. It just looks like a modern photograph of somebody WEARING one of those head-thingammies. It reminds me of some detective show, or Science Fiction Monster Theatre or something like that.

But as usual, I cannot find one scrap of information on this photo.      

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                
And this! I mean, these are either cocktail napkins (?!) or invitations to some intergalactic social event, the Wedding of the Century.  I just do not get it.

It also looks a little bit like those Irish hats that leprechauns wear, except leprechaun hats don't have this big bloody wire hanging out of them or big holes that look like they're staring out of the depths of hell.

Could this be photoshopped? What else COULD it be? Are two time zones of reality overlapping again? Damn, I was hoping it had stopped.

There is so much information on the internet. There is so much misinformation on the internet. There is so much NO information on the internet, and it insults me, as if I'm "just supposed to know". I got that "just supposed to know" feeling when I tried to research this whole non-topic, finding stuff that got more incomprehensible (see above) by the minute. I'd write about how this has dogged and tortured me all my life, but I just don't want to go to the trouble to bring myself down for no reason.

This happens incessantly on Facebook, which I have nearly stopped using except to go on individual pages for videos and images. (Just the pictures, folks.) People "in-talk" all the time, chatting back and forth, NOT messaging as they are supposed to, at all, but gabbing on and on intimately in a language outsiders (their "friends") don't understand, full of obscure references. "Should I do it?" can be a whole post. The in-group soon answers, in droves, but very obscurely, already knowing what the question means but couching their answers in arcane language to increase the agony of the ostracized. No one is allowed to ask what it's about or you'll be looked at as if you are an embarrassment, like dog shit on the bottom of someone's shoe. The whole comfy little thrill of it comes from the ruthlessness of shutting out your friends, so that they cannot be a part of your thrilling little world.

                                       
BREAKTHROUGH, BREAKTHROUGH! I just couldn't leave it alone, that modern-looking photo, I had to find out where it came from. So I did a reverse-image search on it - which sometimes gives me the provenance of a photo, though usually not.

And here it is! It's from a TV show called Elementary, which is, I would imagine, about Sherlock Holmes, who is depicted in modern terms as a high-functioning autistic. I think that's a load of high-functioning horseshit, myself, but here's the gif anyway: it turned out kind of neat.
   

                             

I don't see this as looking quite like the fuzzy Twinkie of Hugo Gernsback's vision. It looks more like an industrial vacuum cleaner, or a garbage pail with holes in it. It must have been fun for the prop department to rig this up, though not much fun to have it on your head.

"What could possibly go wrong?": Inventions from the nasty past

Call these "un-ventions". Things the inventor should have thought twice about. Things that might even be hazardous to your health and wellness (and wellbeing and stuff).

How many of these all-purpose-douche-and-enema machines did they sell, anyway? And you could wash the dog with it, too. Come to think of it, that's not such a bad deal. But boy would you ever need to clean the contraption between uses.

Hmmmmmm. That "word of warning" tells the whole story here, as does the "dual purpose" bit. I think these things are designed for ease of access, and I don't mean for taking a tinkle. And do you know what, I would NOT want to get caught in my zipper while wearing one of these.

This thing, this evil metal nose clamp, is supposed to prevent pain from hay fever, "catarrh", etc.? What the fuck IS catarrh? Is this something the human race used to get, but just doesn't get any more, or does it just no longer exist? Perhaps, like quinsy, lumbago and grippe, it simply went out of style. But hey. . . maybe that means that this contraption actually worked!

I'll try not to comment on the name of the inventor.

This is another evil thing you stuck on your face. I don't think this cured catarrh, or cat-gut-guitar or whatever, just "analyzed facial flaws" - and if the contraption is any indication, this poor woman is ALL flaws. The guy is obviously a sadist: this thing has 325 screws in it that can be tightened any way he wants.

A related issue is the Toilet Mask or (even more sinister-sounding) "face glove". I can't help but be reminded of This Is Spinal Tap's album, Smell the Glove. They still sell things that look sort of like this, things that strap on to a woman's face and make her look like Hannibal Lecter.

Hey, it's a new kind of hat, all right. A fake hat. A charlatan hat. A faux hat. A phony hat. A hat-that-doesn't-really-grow-hair. But if it didn't work, you could get a job as a chef in a robot factory.

I looked at this ad with great puzzlement, trying to figure out just what they meant by diseases of the head: mental illness, perhaps? Or was the inventor of the device perhaps thus afflicted? Then I read the description, and there it is. . . CATARRH! So catarrh, we've finally deduced, is a disease of the head. But you've got to get one of these to cure it, and unfortunately they stopped making them in 1932.

This is one of those marvelous Victorian orgasm-machines that I wish they still made. It beat the hell out of having your doctor shove his hand up your skirt, a common therapeutic treatment of the day. The ad even mentions hysteria, a catch-all term which basically meant "horny" (thus the need for one's doctor to feel one up and produce "paroxysm"). I think I'd rather have my paroxysms on a real horse, but if you don't have the space or the oats and hay, this might just do the trick. Whatever that is.

I don't understand this thing - looks like he has some sort of beehive on his head, or an underwater device, except that it's made out of felt. I've seen fabric cocoons that you can wrap around yourself, but this - is that a fire extinguisher or an oxygen tank sitting beside him? What are all those gizmos and egg-slicer thingies on his desk? I don't know if I want to get too deeply involved.

And your hair would smell just great!

This has the largest cringe-factor - no, wait. That one is coming next. But when you see the little naked baby under a sun lamp, you just die a little bit inside. If you want your kid to Stay Brown Th' Year Round, this is the way to go - until Child Protection finds out about it.

And I am truly sorry for this one, but I had to include it for the sake of historical accuracy. A long, long time ago I posted instructions for prostate massage, not because I was interested but because it read like a translation of a translation of some indecipherable foreign language (I won't say "tongue"), and thus was rendered virtually incomprehensible. This thing gives a whole new meaning to one of my favorite expressions, "Sit on this and rotate". It is obviously a dildo, one which needs to be well-lubricated for use: "Note especially those little vent holes in the nozzle through which the unguent inserted in the chamber below may be forced out by turning the knurled cap."

I cannot say another word about this.