Bottles 1936

... ever: In the fall of 1936, Amelia, Gene, and I went... head with one of his bottles. She was like that."

... are a couple of bottles in the Acker catalog that...that description before for ancient bottles from Acker?) in 1923, ... substantially identical to two bottles of alleged Nicolas-bottled 1923 La... in Rudy’s trial. The bottles previously sold by Acker from ... law in effect until 1936. Could the Nicolas bottles offered by Acker all... Controlee label sometime after 1936? Perhaps. But in addition to...

The year 1936, the Empire of Karlsland Strike ... for sure though, it was 1936. If my memory was correct, ... pure terror. Why? It was 1936, nothing was going on - ... weeks. We have some glass bottles and canteens, fill those with ... house, but why? It was 1936. If my memory was correct, ...

... of its soda bottles. The letters began to advance in 1936, and they... embossed on the ring in 1936, with an I in1937, and ...

Stubbys >>> cans. Notice - same price. submitted by /u/ByronBuxtonCantRead to r/PKA [link] [comments]

First things first, we are aware that it has been a very long time since we had one of these concern France proper. And I do mean LONG time. To be more precise, 5 years have passed since our 27th Dev Diary which announced the upcoming France rework on 29th May of 2021. Since then, a lot has changed. The dev team underwent months upon months of restructuring in terms of both the membership and our attitude to mod design, not to mention the numerous updates that came to eventually precede BM despite the initial conception intending them to build on top of it. I could go on and on into exact details about what exactly had changed since then, but knowing that it's far from what you've come for here, I will try to keep it as brief and concise as possible: simply put, our earlier progress report started off a horrendously wrong foot, not just in retrospect but even for the time it was made. It gave audiences a massively skewed image of what France is like on the eve of January 1st 1936, and even worse one for a large number of people who came out of it holding a sincere conviction that this is what all of France's content will look like. Also, the icons were way below the standard of what is the norm of Red Flood as of 2025 but that's a different matter entirely. So, without further ado, here is the re-reworked (yes, BM has been inconsistently worked on for so long that it received reworks of its own. Beat you to the joke.) intro tree with some of the flavour and character introduction events tied to it. Moving on. THE SQUADRONS OF THE FUTURE With that out of the way, we can move to the actual substance of this Progress Report. I am Deldels, and I have come to be something of a lead designer when it comes to the faction covered here, though such title holds little real substance given the laissez-faire organization of the Red Flood dev team. At the minimum, it allows me the dignity of introducing (re-introducing?) you to the first of the many factions vying for the control of France covered in depth. L’Escadron du Futur or the Squadron of the Future or simply “the Escadron” in layman's language, is something of an organizational anomaly as far as politics of 1936 are concerned. First conceived by Guillaume Apollinaire and Charles Nungesser in 1930 as a way to bring together the various disunited and poorly organized paramilitaries constituting the French Far-Right of the interwar period, including the Camelots du Roi of the Action Française and Le Faisceau of Georges Valois, following the successful revolution that had put the FNAG into power, it had grown into one of the political parties which form said Front and the primary backbone of the Army Federation system that came to replace the newly dissolved French armed forces. Both from a meta perspective and within the setting itself, the Escadron serves as something of a mascot for the ideology of the Avant-Garde state. For the playerbase and the wider HOI4 community, it carries all that constitutes the aesthetics and guiding mentality of RF France: Fast cars. Tacky leather jackets. Mannerbund. Spontaneous bouts of ideologically driven violence. Perhaps partially thanks to the poor path layout of 0.1 France, no other faction captures the ethos of the entire tag in a bottle as much as this militant band of misfits. And among them, none captures it nearly as well as Guillaume Apollinaire. Apollinaire himself is the archetypal soldier-poet of Red Flood’s new age. A Polish-French art critic, poet, and writer, he was likely the one to coin the name of the school of Surrealism, not to mention deeply involved in early Cubism, and a one-time dabbler in anarchism. Having narrowly survived the Great War, he was a founder of the L’Audacieux veterans paramilitary, inspired by the example of the Italian Arditi. This org was involved in the right-wing alliance making up the postwar Bernanos government, though this alliance only lasted a few years due to political differences. In the aftermath, L’Audaceiux came together under the revolutionary rightist grouping that would become the proto-FNAG. The importance of Apollinaire as a unifying figure and nationalist war hero makes him a figure in the movement as important, if not more, than Antonin Artaud himself, coming up through the veteran wing rather than the Surrealists and Parisian government. Naturally, he is named Prime Minister of the new regime shortly after it takes power. His untimely death, of course, comes as no surprise to anyone who had been following BM's progress. You were made aware of his fate a long ago. Felled by the bullet of a mentally ill Anti-France fanatic, the Master's children vie for two things: revenge and power. THE CENTRE Starting off, the Centre-Escadron is something of a misnomer. Lacking much theoretical ground of its own, it had come to represent something of a “practical core” for the organization as a whole, based either on borrowed allegiance (for the far-right paramilitaries that had allowed themselves to be merged into a central body) and personal loyalty to Apollinaire. With personal loyalty come personal beliefs of course, and in a roundabout way, the Centre-Escadron is Apollinaire. Contrary to what this might initially imply, none of it reflects ideological pragmatism. Rather, there is a level of value dissonance in effect, and as much as Apollinaire and Nungesser might boast of themselves as “men of action” above all else, they cannot escape the shadow of theoretical grounding, as eclectic as it might be. Because poor Guillaume lays dead and buried and because we spoke of him a fair amount earlier, this PR will move the focus entirely on his prince-regnant and fellow staunch defender of French culture. The start of Nungesser's content kicks off with a recursive loop back to his and François Coli's political infancy: The Poilutariat Manifesto. Penned by the duo during their brief stay on France's electoral left (and with whose premises they had founded the Social Party of the Combatants of War a week after their expulsion from SFIO on the grounds of advocating a position of uncompromising revanchism deemed unacceptable for the wider party), it becomes once more a source of legitimacy for the young pilot firebrand, though he had long since radicalised from its premises of vulgar soldier populism. Revanchisme et Légitimité remain the two guiding principles of Nungesser, as they had been of his mentor before, though their meanings had long since diverged from the definitions given to them under the duress of the mainstream politics of the rotten Third and the doomed-in-the-cradle Fourth Republics. Revanchism, divergent from the simple desire to shatter the confines of the hexagon, becomes a bond and a creed that, in a dream not unlike the theories outlined by Jean-Baptiste Lamarck, transcends the political and ascends towards the natural. Apollinaire believed that a populus nurtured from infancy to the art of warfare will grow to find nourishment and purpose in it. The wounds they receive will come to reshape their biological state of being, as they did to the cromagnons before. Skin will grow where shrapnel has fallen and absorb it, allowing the human layer to evolve into something grander, no longer constricted from evolution by modernity's grooming to docility. Of course, like in the Sparta of old, the evolution of the people cannot come without the evolution of the state to go with it. A forceful removal of much reviled anti-France elements is in order, as is a total realignment of the government towards where its purpose lies. Under Artaud and Breton, the revolution had forgotten its fuel and lifeblood: the men who had withstood the trenches of Somme and all their horrors, who had given their all at the doom of Verdun, only to be sold out and betrayed by opportunistic middlemen, to them belongs the state. They are the artisans of victory, and the economy shall rest well within their hands. The “economic revolution” declared by the nascent regime takes myriad of forms, no longer intended to revitalize the economy as the 1932 government had, but towards the goal of an eventual ideological transformation: Paper currency will be abolished in favour of a system of credits closely monitored by a central bureau, local representatives shall be subjected to evaluations of their work arbitrated jointly by both the government and the people they serve, a spear shall be thrust in the heart of pacifism by a strong showing of the unity of the French people in face of all adversity, regardless of where it comes from. Legitimism, in turn, split from the ideal of the restoration of the Bourbons to the throne of France, under Nungesser comes to represent the throne itself. The memories of past regimes had melded themselves to the spirit of Frenchness as one, celeber whole. The empire. The cornerstone of civilization against kultur. We no longer speak of republics or restorations, of aristocrats or proles. The past stands buried in the rubble downwards from the world to come. I've seen the future, and it is righteous murder. THE LEFT The Left Escadron is, at least at the outset, perhaps the most orthodox Sorelian faction in the Escadron. Its leader, Philippe Lamour, and éminence grise, Georges Valois, find their ideological nourishment in the Sorelian ideal of myth as the animating force of life and action, and look towards the original 1913 pact between Sorel, Maurras, and the Cercle Proudhon as the wellspring of their legitimacy. As such, the traditionally chauvinist outlook which dominates the Escadron is initially somewhat muted, instead being channeled towards the realization of the Sorelian ideal of Producerism and the restructuring of the environment of France to meet the new consciousness being assembled, drawing on some familiar characters to do so. Such an effort begins initially with the refocus on Plan Voisin, the reinvigoration of Le Soleil, with the hopes of shaping the capital as an architectonic representation of France’s economic reorganization under the auspices of Left Escadron. The purpose here, as those perhaps already familiar with the thought of Sorel and some of his (many) ideological successors already know, is not so much class collaboration as class harmonization. The antagonism remains, but through each class’ adoption of a guiding set of myths and images, their actions become oriented towards the ends of the nation. In looking at the particulars of this renewed mythos, we find the first major break between the Left-Escadron and Sorel himself. While the regime follows in their precursor’s footsteps by championing the power of intuitive art, the engineers of the New Order, and Lamour in particular, look towards technology as the ultimate instantiation of mythic power in communal existence. Indeed, the Left-Escadron places its faith in the near limitless power of technology to effortlessly meld with organic instinct to act as a new fountain for the vitalist energies that so enchanted Sorel. Despite this, the Left-Escadron is far from what we call, in the context of Red Flood, “Technocratic.” For one, the guiding organizational ethos of the economy is not, as we see in Howard Scott, based around the rigid dictates of science, but rather refer instead to a sort of vital feeling or cultural sentiment; and it is from this that the second major difference between the L-Escadron and a more traditionally technocratic movement springs: an ardent regionalism undergirded by a belief in the unique experiences conferred by local cultures and environments. The more concrete economic organization of France under the Left-Escadron, in its initial stages, therefore looks a great deal like the regionalist syndicalism championed by Valois and Hubert Lagardelle. While this certainly doesn’t mean that the Left-Escadron is any less rabidly nationalistic than its counterparts to its right, it does lay the eventual groundwork for an idiosyncratic version of French nationalism to emerge. Perceptive readers will have noticed the manner by which I have qualified many of my statements with some form of “initially.” This is because in Lamour we find a particularly apt absorption of Sorel’s enthusiasm for dynamism and his later enthusiasm for William James. As a consequence, the Left-Escadron is a faction which prides itself on its capacity for mutation, to assimilate and jettison new strains of thought and tactics as it comes into contact with the formative power of violence and crisis, an embrace of trial by fire found first in the Italian War. The eruption of conflict, as France’s first major test, sees the Left-Escadron forced to shed old allies and look in unconventional places for new ones. Ultimately, the War In Italy will unavoidably shift the face of the Left-Escadron, radically reinventing its techniques while reinforcing its guiding ethos of a violent, mythic, France… Nation beyond politics, class beyond economy. THE RIGHT At the outset of the Great War, Valentine de Saint-Point and Ricciotto Canudo were already known in fame and infamy alike as rabble rousing heartthrobs of the decadent Parisian scene, important forerunners of practically every genre of contemporary Avant-Garde that comes to mind. Their influence on the Revolution of 1932, though never given much publicity, cannot go understated, and their familiarity with both Apollinaire and Marinetti had made them an important factor in tying Fiume to Le Soleil. It is they, joined to lesser extent by Rene Guénon, who can claim what is called the Right Escadron as their brainchild. Originally simply an extension of the Collège Idéiste, an influence group for the Central Committee of the FNAG, it has long since broken free from its status as a small bookclub of arthouse nepotists, becoming a major personal influence on both Artaud and the now deceased Apollinaire - something that had always driven a wedge between these two men and their allies within the PSF, who proudly present themselves as being “above reality”. For the Right Escadron, the spirit and the real are a matrimony, a marriage of contradictions, once united in what was called the Science until its unbinding by Constantine. At the core of this Science stands the flesh, the ethos of creation that drives all mankind. It is the most natural thing in the world, and in this way it also becomes the most otherworldly, for it is bid upon and understood very little. To bring back the dominance of the flesh, the passive constraints of modern life have to be shed in the favour of a healthier, more natural, perhaps “primitive” form of despotism. Like the phoenix, democracy has to burn so that its ashes can once more grow into the cruelty of the Orient, now embraced in a symbiosis of yes and no with the whirls of machinery. Synarchy, as defined by Alexandre Saint-Yves d'Alveydre, is the rule of harmony. Its guiding premise is that as long as there is a hidden other to enforce the association of everyone with everyone else and serve as an intermediary in these dealings, the state can work as one, all-encompassing body, its organs sustaining each other, driven by an ordained duty reinforced through ritual. This duty is in turn relegated to an anointed sovereign. Of course, no organization in France stands more fit to fulfil the duties of this hidden, sagely other than the Collège Idéiste, yet the state of the sovereign himself remains in dispute. The ever-volative Antonin Artaud is a righteous and gifted soul, rich in Science but held back by the hubris stuffed to him by bureaucratic sycophants. It is the duty of the true sons of the Sun to make it clear that they are the only friends he shall ever need, and that there is no shame in letting his base impulses run wild. The mandate of power comes to those who are deserving of it, and the young tyrant has many enemies who wish to deprive him of it. The suggestion of the sages? One long night of gruesome accidents, a cleansing fire within the very heart of the realm to purify it of filth. What remains is the post-release clarity of the half-a-decade-long process of revolution. The Sun, once contained merely within the former city of Paris, had now taken the form of all of France. The proletariat had turned away from the miasma of Marxism, free to run wild as a noble warrior, boundless chaser of eternal high, while the aristocrat had returned to his natural lot in life, the bourgeoisie and the false clergy once more lay dead at his feet. The purple-blooded, guided by the wise ordinance of the sages, loves freedom and admires it in those who love being in his service. Where churches to decay once stood now stand temples of virility, of warfare, of destruction driven by lust. Synergy, the knot that ties mankind together, has been achieved. All thanks to the First Magus, who rules but does not lead and his lockstep legions. The project of the Science is universal, France merely a place of rebirth once the glory of Old Egypt had faded. Even outside of it, small flickers of fire prophesize a grander flame. In Finland, wise men uncover the great truth of mankind from which their homeland is not spared and in the lands of the Middle East, the boundless elan vital of the Moslem faith continues to topple the modern imperial crusaders. Thousands of learned men and women await the coming of the unbound Dionysus, the next in the great line of conquerors such as Thutmose, Alexander, Tamerlane who shall rape the stale and the obsolete into submission, leaving nothing in the way of creation. And find him they shall, as the Collegiates know, in Antonin Artaud. POST-SCRIPT And with that concludes the second Progress Report of BM France, taking you through the reworked Escadron in some of its glory. Far from all. The trees shown here cover only the first three years from the ten total of their respective paths, up to the invasion with Italy and cutting short at its jubilant conclusion. Seems overly ambitious? You don't have to remind us. Burning Memories had gone a long way from its embryonic form, starting as what was intended to be some flavour edits to the 0.1 tree and spiralling into a giant moloch of planned content, some of it cut into smaller updates to tone down the sheer gargantuan scope of it all. We are not totally ignorant of how this fares with the playerbase itself either, having long since phased out any hopes of continuing doing updates on this scale after its release, opting for a more decentralised system of “Release what you have as soon as its done”, which will hopefully shush some of the (perfectly justified) complains about the pace of the mod’s updates. Of course, we are open to hearing your thoughts about this, but sorry to whoever believed we were going to do an update giving 10 years of content to every Central European tag after BM. The team simply isn’t equipped for it in terms of size (though you can always help in that regard). To that end, I would like to thank each and every dev who had contributed to the update in any shape or form, no matter how small, whether they still work on the mod or not, as well as to all of you who had stayed with us for so long. We can only hope that your patience and support will be rewarded and that this progress report, long overdue, has fulfilled some of your expectations. Because after all, without you, there would be not much purpose to doing any of this. In spite of its ideological diversity, Escadron scratches only the surface of all the paths and personalities Avant-Garde France has at its disposal. Worry not, because this will not be the last status update concerning everyone's favorite tag. Since the announcement of BM as an update, we have revealed scarily little of our cards in terms of France content, an issue we hope to remedy in the future. For now, await the Progress Report that concerns its sister nation, who had once nurtured futurism with her breast milk. Merry Christmas. R.J Ycizqo Wppgkm kj qibtt c kfxgo submitted by /u/Lollandir2 to r/RedFloodMod [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/chubachus to r/ArtefactPorn [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/Ditz2miLooloo to r/HalloweenDecorations [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/bachrodi to r/ObscureMedia [link] [comments]

As per this article and Clorox's own page Clorox didn't manufacture a 16-ounce bottle until 1933 (previously, the "pint" bottles were 15 ounces). In 1937, the fill line became "raised" underneath the size identification. In 1938, they increased the width of the bottle neck. They replaced the cork tops with screw tops in 1940. This is a 16-oz bottle with a cork top, a very narrow neck, and no raised fill line under the "16 oz" lettering, meaning (if I am not mistaken) it was manufactured between 1933 - 1936. I found it in the Otis Pike High Dunes Wilderness at Fire Island National Seashore. Before it became a national park in 1964, this stretch of beach used to have vacation homes, remnants of which are still buried under the sand, and occasionally resurface. Most of it is unremarkable: broken chimneys, rusted pipes sticking horizontally out of the towering dunes, crumbling bricks, hunks of unrecognizable rusty metal. But sometimes you find cool things that people didn't bother to clear out before they left. I once found a Schaefer beer can and a Welch's grape juice can that date to the early 1960s. These cans were so rusty that when I tried to pick them up, they disintegrated in my hand. I assume the Clorox bottle was under the sand too, because there is no way a glass bottle could get knocked around in the ocean for ~90 years without getting broken. BTW, if anyone has any tips on getting that cork out without destroying it, please let me know. I'd really like to clean this thing out. submitted by /u/HavaianasAndBlow to r/beachcombing [link] [comments]