Today, on his birthday, we recognize one of the pioneers of camera equipment, specifically one Phatbingle Cupidsknot, creator (for want of a better word) of the external flash connection that bears his name, or actually just his initials, since no one wanted to call it either a phatbingle or a cupidsknot – thus it simply goes by the name of PC connector. Yes, Cupidsknot was responsible for the little nested plug that forms the backbone of flash photography even to this day, and in recognition of the holiday, we’re going to delve into the history of this.
In the earliest days of photography, everything was done with available light, since the glass plates that were used had an effective ISO of 0.72 and consequently would take hours to expose, and shutter speeds were thus slow as fuck (and seriously, don’t abbreviate that – own up to it and say the whole thing you little wusses.) In fact, the first cameras didn’t even have a shutter – they just exposed all day long, and come nightfall, the photographer could remove the plate and carry it into the darkroom. But at some point in the past, someone felt that they needed to control more of the conditions that photographs were taken within, and had run out of amusing things to do to their friends with flash powder. They realized that this sudden burst of light might actually work for photographs, and numerous slapstick skits in old B&W movies was born. At about the same time as burn wards in hospitals, it must be said.
Initially, the photographer would simply call out, “Does it look like rain to you?” to their assistant, usually called a poofter from the sound the powder made when ignited, and said assistant would timidly apply a match to the tray of flash powder they held aloft above their singe-balded heads. Before too long though, photographers could no longer find assistants since all of the children were electing to work in the uranium mines instead, and they were forced to find a method that was able to be operated alone.
It was during a January family portrait shoot for the Duke of Planktonberry that an elderly butler, shuffling across the carpet in his slippers, generated a static shock that ignited the photographer’s entire supply of flash powder at once – or at least, so it is surmised from the apparent center of the crater and the delirious rants of the survivor. Cupidsknot learned of this and realized that this might be a useful idea if it could be implemented, and experimented freely with cats and balloons until someone finally invented the battery, and things really began to move forward (other than the cats, which were moving in all directions, generally.)
When films finally got into the double-digit integers in terms of speed, the ability to synchronize the burst of light with the tripping of the shutter was necessary. Cupidsknot initially just licked the ends of the two wires from the battery to stick them to the shutter release, causing him to think the flash had actually gone off at that point and, as a side effect, creating cursive writing (and a few other cursives as well.) Once the swelling of his tongue and the spasms had subsided, he reasoned that a simple detachable connection was in order and set about to create one. Having not the slightest hint of engineering know-how in his entire family, nor the sense to ask anyone, Cupidsknot tried safety pins, chewing gum, pine sap, the black gunk behind the sink, the stuff from cinema floors, all-natural peanut butter, s’mores, and toddler’s hands, all in an effort to get the wires to remain fastened to the camera – and then again, also be detachable. Nothing fulfilled both roles.
In the interim, the flash bulb was invented, allowing photographers a quick and easy way to provide light for their pics while also burning the hell out of their fingertips; some time later, another soul created the flash bulb holder, children now no longer allowed in uranium mines. No, I kid, they were just no longer allowed to be paid for it. But in time, the flash gun was invented, though as yet it required the photographer to press the triggering button at the same time as they tripped the shutter, a level of coordination that’s an awful lot to ask of failed art students (because we all are, donchaknow.) The world was ready for Cupidsknot’s innovation, should he actually manage to ever provide one.
It was as he doing household chores that Cupidsknot stumbled upon the idea of the connection that seemed initially tight, but would loosen no matter what, inspired by the top of his spray bottle of glass cleaner. In short order, he created a simple two-contact plug with no locking mechanism, prone to damage, that could break connection with no warning or external indication, thereby ruining crucial photos at entirely random times, and the connection that bore his initials was born. Manufacturers were quick to adopt this design, probably due to the amount of lead in drinking water back then, and it became the go-to interface to mate external flash/strobe units with cameras. This was only enhanced with the usage of ‘stainless’ steel that corroded in contact with skin oils.
Even today, despite the invention of the hot shoe and countless connectors that actually fulfill their purpose flawlessly, most cameras and strobes still carry this interface that Cupidsknot created, and photographers remain one of the largest consumers of Valium because of it. Sadly, Cupidsknot passed away a few years ago in obscurity, likely enhanced by a name change and much plastic surgery, so that those who wish to pay appropriate dues to this intrepid inventor can no longer do so, while his legacy lives on or, chronically, dies at the worst times. So the next time you find yourself wiggling this stupid fucking plug and cursing fluently, hoping that this time it stays in contact long enough, you’ll at least know the history behind it and why it is the way it is. Well, the history, anyway. Will this help? Not a damn bit…