|Vintage Pulp||Jan 27 2018|
|Intl. Notebook||Mar 23 2015|
Archaeologists have uncovered a set of stone ruins in Argentina they believe were constructed to serve as homes for Nazis fleeing Europe during the aftermath of World War II. The buildings are located in a mountainous, barely accessible area of the Teyu Cuare national park in northern Argentina where it meets the border with Paraguay. The archaeologists believe these are Nazi structures because they uncovered German coins minted between 1938 and 1941, and fragments of a plate made in Germany. The fact that such structures were found in Argentina isn’t a surprise—another stone house found years ago (below) in the same park is believed to have been built for Parteikanzlei chief Martin Bormann, who never got to use it. In the end the Nazis never really needed their Teyu Cuare lairs—as many as 9,000 of them fled to Argentina openly, welcomed by the government of Juan Peron.
Argentina was hardly unique in that respect. Thousands more Nazis settled in Brazil, Chile, and in the fascist dictatorship of Paraguay. Hundreds fled to the Middle East. At least one resided for a brief time inQuebec. Via Operation Paperclip, high ranking Nazi party members such as Wernher von Braun, Kurt Debus, and Arthur Rudolph were welcomed into the U.S., mainly due to their knowledge of physics and rocketry. Hubertus Strughold (at right) was also brought over. He had a different kind of knowledge—direct awareness of and possible involvement with fatal medical experiments relating to extreme environments and atmospheric pressure. All four men were given jobs at NASA.
There’s no word yet on what the Argentine government plans to do with the newly discovered Teyu Cuare structures. The alleged Borman house still stands and even has a sign noting its unusual history. However most countries prefer to wipe out evidence of government or citizen collaboration with the Third Reich by opting to raze Nazi structures.
|Intl. Notebook||Jul 12 2010|
First the Festival of San Fermin, and now Spain’s World Cup victory. To say last night’s celebration was exuberant is an understatement. Nevertheless, we’re back to doing what we do, so here’s a random Spanish-language magazine we ran across, the long-running film publication Ecran, which is not from Spain but rather from Chile. This issue is circa 1965, with Italian actress Elsa Martinelli on the cover. Martinelli starred in a couple of our favorite cheesy flicks from the sixties, which means we’ll be getting back to her in more detail soon.
|Vintage Pulp||Jan 2 2010|
We’re starting 2010 out right, with an absolutely amazing poster from an equally amazing film. At least, we think it’s amazing. Reactions to Chilean-born director Alexandro Jodorowski’s El Topo run the gamut—some hail it as high art; other think it’s a pretentious and garbled mess. However, it’s undeniable that the film hails from a much more daring cinematic era. It’s also one of the first true midnight films, gaining popularity during its 1970 Stateside run among New York City’s artsy, nocturnal filmgoing crowd after a slow start in conventional release. Basically, El Topo ("topo" means "mole" in Spanish, but is used as slang to describe an awkward person) is a western, but it’s also a commingling of Biblical and eastern religion themes. Doesn’t that sound fun? The two halves of the film have different flavors, and this tends to turn off some viewers. Jodorowski confessed that a couple of important transitional shots got ruined and were never replaced. Add in all the nudity, dwarves, and random events, and it’s easy to think of the film as sloppy. But what isn’t sloppy is the Italian poster by Enrico de Seta, one of the true masters of cinema promo art, who we’ll be featuring again in the future. In the meantime, we recommend a viewing of El Topo. It’s a unique vision by a singular filmmaker—grand, violent, disturbing, and most of all, pulp.
|Vintage Pulp||Oct 17 2009|
Check out the above shot of American cinema legend Cary Grant, looking his debonair best on the cover of the Chilean movie magazine Ecran. And on the back cover is Tina Louise from the days before she was banished to Gilligan’s Island. "Ecran" is not, as far as we can tell with our imperfect language skills, Spanish, but rather French. The word means "screen," but we don't think the magazine is affiliated with French film magazine L’Ecran. We could be wrong about that, though. In any case, we have more issues of Ecran we'll show you later. This one was published in 1959.
|Intl. Notebook||May 16 2009|
Alrightee, folks, we’re taking a few days off to go pulp hunting. El Monkey Blanco will be scouring the alleyways of Southeast Asia, and Chile Negro will be pounding the pavement in Western Europe. In the meantime, help a brother out and spread our url around. We’re new to this website thing and don’t have it down to an art just yet, but we think we have something unique here and we’d like to share it with as many people as possible. The treasure hunting, writing, and web research are all good fun, but we’re attention whores. So pimp us. Back Tuesday.
|Intl. Notebook||May 12 2009|
The story we posted not long ago about the Griddle Virgin got us thinking about how very pulp lucha libre is. You got a bunch of mean-as-snakes guys kicking the living shit out of each other. You got costumes, secret identities, and exotic tropical locales. And the whole enterprise, let’s face it, comes off a bit seedy. As if those elements weren’t pulp enough, we just discovered that lucha libre promo posters are often printed on low quality paper just like the old dime paperbacks. So today we have a selection of lucha libre art for your enjoyment. If it stimulates a burning desire to try the lucha lifestyle, you can start by getting a wrestling moniker of your own here. We tried it and ours are El Monkey Blanco and Chile Negro—seriously. Suddenly you can cut the racial tension in here with a knife.