Marker pen
A marker pen, fineliner, marking pen, felt-tip marker, felt-tip pen, flow, marker or texta (in Australia) or sketch pen (in India), is a pen which has its own ink-source, and a tip made of porous, pressed fibers such as felt. A permanent marker consists of a container (glass, aluminum or plastic) and a core of an absorbent material. This filling serves as a carrier for the ink. The upper part of the marker contains the nib that was made in earlier time of a hard felt material, and a cap to prevent the marker from drying out. Until the early 1990s the most common solvents that were used for the ink were toluene and xylene. These two substances are both harmful and characterized by a very strong smell. Today, the ink is usually made on the basis of alcohols (e.g. 1-propanol, 1-butanol, diacetone alcohol and cresols).
History
Lee Newman patented a felt-tipped marking pen in 1910. In 1926 Benjamin Paskach patented a "fountain paintbrush" as he called it which consisted of a sponge-tipped handle containing various paint colors. Markers of this sort began to be popularized with the sale of Sidney Rosenthal's Magic Marker (1953) which consisted of a glass tube of ink with a felt wick. By 1958 use of felt-tipped markers was commonplace for a variety of applications such as lettering, labeling, and creating posters. The year 1962 brought the development of the modern fiber-tipped pen (in contrast to the marker, which generally has a thicker point) by Yukio Horie of the Tokyo Stationery Company (which later became Pentel).
Podcasts:
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by Ember Swift
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by Taylor Swift
Permanent Marker
by: Ember SwiftShe bites her bottom lip to keep her thoughts contained. She thinks that if her tongue should slip she'd have to fight the stain. The skin is like an ancient sponge that sucks in pain like ink. New love won't wash, scrub raw, flesh loose. You cannot love the stain away with use. Discoloured, or maybe coloured new? Well, who's to say? 'Cause I'd rather be discovered nude and tattooed, anyday. We have all fallen from grace at least once in our lives. We have all tried to save face and made it worse with lies. We have all made the wrong move and tried to run from consequence as if we had something to prove, as if that in itself made sense. Well, I say if you can't wear it away you might as well wear it in a way that lets everybody know how proud you are at how far you've come sporting such a sacred scar, wearing the marks of humanity: pain, shame and humility, smeared all over me. Scrub Not, Scrub Not -- You can't wash these stains from your skin. Scrub Not, Scrub Not -- This is how we get worn in. Scrub Not, Scrub Not -- You cannot wash these stains from your skin Scrub Not, Scrub Not -- This is how we get sworn in. "Do you like my tats" I ask, "do you like the art frozen on my flesh? Is this a test of your tolerance as you look at me with eyes of pity?" Like you think I should just normalize, like you think I have self-modified as a means to counter "pretty." I say if you can't wear it away you might as well wear it... 'cause I'd rather be discovered nude and tattooed, anyday.