a bowl of grapenuts made to taste just like a steak

Above World War I camouflaged lorry at Langley Field VA. School of Aerial Photography, c1918. Public domain.

•••

As Oscar Wilde famously said, “All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.” It has yet to be determined what inspires bad camouflage music and lyrics —

WE ARE THE CAMOUFLEURS.
Words and Music by Arthur M. Fournier. Los Angeles, c1918.

This great big fight of nations, has pressed the wits of men.
The way they spring sensations, gets thrilling now and then.
So architects and stagehands, with artists started in.
At the game of camouflaging, hear their battle cry to win. For—

CHORUS
We are the camoufleurs with our pots and pails of paint,
We are boys so bold who make things what they ain’t.
We pull the wool right o’er their eyes.
Our middle name is disguise.
We are the Camoufleurs, the canny, cammy Camoufleurs.
We are the Camoufleurs.

Now orders came from Hoover—a hurry call to fake.
To make a wad of grapenuts, looks like a juicy steak.
Put cream into the milk cans, make hardtack into cake.
Ev’ry time they sprung a new one, they would sing for Wilhelm’s sake. For—

CHORUS
We are the camoufleurs with our pots and pails of paint,
We are boys so bold who make things what they ain’t.
We pull the wool right o’er their eyes.
Our middle name is disguise.
We are the Camoufleurs, the canny, cammy Camoufleurs.
We are the Camoufleurs.

Now way back there in our town, sit Tom and Al and Bill.
Those same old phoney soldiers, they’re playing poker still.
They’re passing round the pasteboards, and looking mighty wise.
But we’ve got that bunch a-guessing, us camouflaging guys. For—

CHORUS
We are the camoufleurs with our pots and pails of paint,
We are boys so bold who make things what they ain’t.
We pull the wool right o’er their eyes.
Our middle name is disguise.
We are the Camoufleurs, the canny, cammy Camoufleurs.
We are the Camoufleurs.

•••

RELATED LINKS

Dazzle Camouflage: What is it and how did it work? /  Nature, Art, and Camouflage / Art, Women's Rights, and Camouflage /  Embedded Figures, Art, and Camouflage / Art, Gestalt, and Camouflage /  Optical science meets visual art /  Disruption versus dazzle / Chicanery and conspicuousness /  Under the big top at Sims' circus

our chef is no dub, and is good at camouflaging grub

Patent Drawings

Above Application drawings for US Patent No US2005/0081272 for a “camouflage hood assembly,” for use in game hunting, invented by Richard Dean Shaklee (2005). The hunter’s face is concealed by a suspended hood, covered with webbing, which the user can see through.

•••

Camouflage in WAR-TIME JINGLES by Men in Service, in The Blue Island Sun (Blue Island IL), damaged page, no readable date (c1918)—

At camouflage our chef’s no dub,
And every day at mess
He practices on all our grub,
With great effectiveness.

He serves a cereal, of course,
For breakfast every day,
The same would even fool a horse,
It tastes so much like hay.

The tea and coffee that is placed
Before us in that hall,
Are camouflaged so they don’t taste
Like anything at all.

And he can camouflage the stew
That’s given us to eat,
So we can’t find a gol darn clew
Of any kind of meat.

On his efficiency I would bank;
Today I tried to take
A bite of solid hickory plank,
Disguised as sirloin steak.

While camouflage may be an art,
We possibly may need,
I’m asking you, please have a heart,
Why camouflage our feed?

Crapé Diem | Dare We Camouflage Old Age?

Maurice Ketten camouflage cartoon (1917)

Above Maurice Ketten, CAMOUFLAGE COOKING in The Galveston Daily News (Galveston TX) September 29, 1917, p. 8. For other wonderful Ketten cartoons, see earlier blog posts.

•••

Abe Martin SHORT FURROWS in The Indianapolis News. September 28, 1918, p. 4—

Rev. Wiley Tanger addressed “Th' Serious Thinkers" in Tell Binkley’s insurance office, last night, takin’ for his subject, “Age Camouflagin." After garglin' a dipper o' water, he said: “One o’ th’ first things a feller notices after he reaches fifty is how swiftly Saturday night rolls around. He no sooner takes a bath till he begins t’ lay out his underwear fer another one. He no sooner shaves th’ snow from his chin till it's white agin. Th’ weeks an’ months an’ years dart by like a Chaplin film. He no sooner gits used t’ a straw hat with a polka dot band till it’s time t’ look around fer a rakish green hat. Th’ day’s gone ferever when he could git by with a youthful face an’ sparklin’ eyes an’ th’ time t’ camouflage has arrived. Th’ never endin’ battle agin relentless ole age is on. Th’ barber, th’ masseur, th’ tailor, th’ presser an’ cleaner, th’ shoe maker, th’ osteopath an’ th’ toupee maker must all be drafted int’ his service an’ he starts forth t’ conquer an unseen foe. But why should a feller try t’ hide th’ fact that he’s fifty? Surely there’s room enough on this earth fer people o’ fifty! Who’s he tryin’ t’ fool? What’s he tryin’ t’ put over? He has started over th’ top an’ a talcumed face an' tan spats won’t hold him back! A polka dot hat band an’ gray hair won't mix!! A peeled gray head an’ a green hat only excite comment—speculation!! I don’t mean t’ say that a feller should begin t’ unravel an’ wither at fifty. If ther’s anything I hate t’ see worse’n a peeled gray badger in a pinch-back suit, it’s a reconciled feller o’ sixty sittin’ around fumblin’ a set o’ white whiskers when he ought t’ be plowin’. A feller ought t’ be tickled t’ death t’ reach fifty! He ought t’ be proud of it!! What I’m drivin’ at is that a feller ought t’ stay in his class. A toupeed feller kin never look like anything but a restorer ad! Bright colors only emphasize ole age. If you're spared till fifty, take advantage o’ ever’ moment from then on, but do it leisurely an’ gracefully. Don’t try t’ look like you’ve been born agin!

“You kin be youthful in spirit without shavin’ all th’ time an’ smellin’ like Floridy water!! Talk about th’ golden days o’ youth!! What’s th’ matter with th’ diamond studded years beyond fifty? At fifty we should quietly apply th’ brakes an’ leisurely descend th’ slope with seasoned muscles, ripe judgment, shorn of illusions, rich in experience, filled with sweet memories, grateful fer havin’ successfully weathered th’ adventurous years o’ youth, with a keen appreciation o’ ever’ precious hour an’ with th’ knowledge that ther’s no new sensations. Let’s stop camouflagin’ an' leave th’ pinch-back clothes an’ zebra shirts t’ youth. Let’s bathe ever’ Saturday as usual, but let’s not worry about our chins bein' white. We’ve had our fling at lady killin’ so let’s sober down an’ resolve not t’ drain our reserve tanks chasin’ after a procession that’s only headed fer where we already are.”

RELATED LINKS 

Dazzle Camouflage: What is it and how did it work? /  Nature, Art, and Camouflage / Art, Women's Rights, and Camouflage /  Embedded Figures, Art, and Camouflage / Art, Gestalt, and Camouflage /  Optical science meets visual art /  Disruption versus dazzle / Chicanery and conspicuousness /  

Lunacy, Delirum Tremens, Jazz—and Camouflage

Cubist cartoon (1913), by Frank King

Styles of so-called "modern" art pre-date dazzle ship camouflage, since disruptive camouflage (as we know it) was not adopted until 1914, the first year of World War I. Modern styles of art were shown to the American public by way of the Armory Show in early 1913. 

Thereafter, cartoonists had an absolute field day with avant-garde art, as shown above in a wonderful cartoon by Frank King, titled "After the Cubist Food Exhibit," that appeared in The Chicago Tribune on April 24, 1913. As soon as disruptive camouflage was introduced, there was no stopping the rumors that it had been inspired by lunacy, the delirium tremens, jazz—and cubism. The fight is still on-going.

•••

P.I. O'Leary, THE LITERARY PAGE. The Informalists. The Advocate (Melbourne, Victoria, Australia), June 24, 1920, p. 3— 

Mr. [W.L.] George sees in the work of [Irish writer James] Joyce a resemblance to the impressionist painter's method, who, instead of painting a green spot, painted side by side a blue spot and a yellow spot, and then invited you to stand back. If this attempted literature of Joyce resembles anything at all in pigments, it is the chaotic and seemingly meaningless lines and drab splashes painted on camouflaged ocean-going vessels during the late war. Unlike those markings, however, which served to obliterate the vessels they made usefully hideous, these serve only to hide something which is not there to be hidden.…

•••

Dazzle Mania in The Register (Adelaide, South Australia), October 8, 1923, p. 11—

Post-impressionists have been at work in London again. Wandering down one of the streets where the feminine population does its shopping, I was struck—literally—by a most amazing pair of silk stockings. "Jazz," murmured the fair lady: "aren't they a dream?" They were—a rather bad one. The post-impressionist had apparently endeavored to portray his impressions of a landscape after a thunderstorm. Verdan green as to foot, the stockings first took on a threatening reddish-yellow glow, deepening into vivid crimson, and back again to sullen gray, all the colorings looking as though they had been thrown on from a distance of at least five feet. I suppose they would be all right on some people, but they looked to me like the camouflage they put on boats in war time.