In 2012 the Center for Land Use Interpretation acquired a set of seven rolodexes from the dispersed collection of former Los Alamos National Laboratory employee Ed Grothus, who operated a salvage company of lab cast-offs, known as The Black Hole.
Now part of the Center’s Radioactive Archive, the rolodexes contain thousands of business cards kept by some unknown office in the lab over the 1960s and 1970s—the peak of the arms race and its technological development. They are a physical record of everything from major military contractors to obscure high- and low-tech software widget suppliers–many of which are no longer extant, or have evolved.
The selection of 150 cards may be viewed as a snapshot of synergies between the business community and America’s atomic might. On the one hand, they are a direct indexical connection from the recent past to the sources of creating the most sophisticated and powerful national defense technologies in the world. On the other hand, they are obsolete information, relics of a former usefulness. As a specific printed historical record—superbly reproduced in full color—they are relevant to a potential understanding of the present; they are evocative evidence of the links that formed the secret technology of our nation.
Both medium and message are extraordinarily innovative in another fine work from the Center for Land Use Interpretation. In Los Alamos Rolodex a collection of business cards found in a dusty old box from the height of nuke building in America are presented in documentary form without commentary. Many accounts of nuculear proliferation are just dead words on a page recalling a distant historical event, but here we get a visceral impression of the lived experience of building a nuclear arsenal from scratch. Even though 'these cards are now dead ends. Obsolete, ephemeral minutiae. Expired information, spilling out of the wreckage of a former black hole at the end of the atomic pile', they help bring a slab of America's history to life like no other work does.
" Los Alamos Rolodex 1967–-1978 is the perfect complement to my rolodex of hell. Picture this: you’re building an atomic weapon; you know it’s going to be pretty complex; you’re probably going to need some help. Wouldn’t it be great if there were a rolodex with the appropriate names and phone numbers of the people who know what you need? Well, guess what? There is. Help yourself. (This is really cool.)" — - Errol Morris
A bunch of business cards from companies assisting in the nation's atomic energy hi-jinx.
Lots of Lloyds. Bills and Chucks earning their bread by slinging isotope fixins.
It gave me a kind of horror-vibe, all these guys working separately to fulfill a bunch of dingbats' dreams of keeping the World their version of safe and well-running.