lordy, lordy

Revisiting a post from the beginning of the year for the benefit and edification of all our fellow-travelers (regardless of your year of matriculation and whether or not you are a Scorpio or Ophiuchus), we inspect the select cavalcade of things (forty plus one) attaining their fourth decade this year.

happy place

Actor David Tennant (the tenth avatar of Doctor Who) lends his soothing and dulcet voice to narrate a pair of video composed specifically to calm dogs and cats and their humans who are distressed by loud noises. As Laughing Squid informs, these shorts, created by an insurance company (that offers pet-coverage) take into account dog and cat psychology and colour vision spectrum. In Germany, there are generally no fireworks except on New Year’s Eve, but that celebratory war-zone makes up for the rest of the year.

it's the great pumpkin, charlie brown

PfRC wishes you and yours a very happy Hallowe’en, an abundance of tricks and treats and thanks for visiting.

grand cru(ise)

Intoxicatingly, French motorists are being cautioned along the motorways of some wine-producing communities during this year’s harvesting time to drive with care due to the risk of spillage onto the lanes from lorries transporting grapes from the vineyards to processing centres. The warning signs are temporary and will be taken down after the season is over.
Viniculture in much of western Europe was bookended with a pair of Roman festivals called the Vinalia—one in Spring and dedicated to Venus to break open the casts of the previous year’s vintage and prayer for a good growing season, and the second held in the early Autumn, dedicated to Jupiter (who controls the weather) as a pre-harvest celebration and selecting of the finest grapes that would be reserved for sacramental wine. I believe that this year was the first time authorities were prompted to install traffic signs but surely there must have been some overflow since ancient times.

constellation prize

Although not entirely a brand new proposal (having first hinted of chaos in the skies back in 2011 but no horoscope columns have adopted the change yet), NASA has apparently formally recognised the fact that the Earth is not ruled by the tidy twelve zodiacal houses (presiding over thirty degrees of the celestial sphere each) but rather thirteen, with this johnny-come-lately Ophiuchus, the snake-handler pushing aside all the other months to make room.
This is particularly bad news for fellow—or rather ex-fellow—Scorpios (see the link up top) as I’ve now become a scale as of just now, and my Mom is a snake-wrangler according to NASA. The havoc is a point of contention, however, because although the sun and the planets move through different constellations (canonical and otherwise) and NASA was prompted to stir the cauldron since the skies have changed in the three thousand years since the Babylonians invented the divining art, astrology in the Western tradition was never based on the march of the heavens in that sense but rather on tropical tilt through the seasons. There’s no need to discount out of hand what you thought the stars had in line for you.

champion charlie brown

On this day in 1950, Charles Schulz’ Peanuts four-panel comic strip (setting the format for others to follow) debuted in around a dozen major newspapers and slowly, over the years, the cast of children was introduced to boldly face a very sociologically and philosophically adult framework—with no grown-up supervision. What are some of your favourite memories from the franchise—arguably the longest story in the telling from a single narrator?

to autumn

Seasons of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer have o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twinéd flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

What are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy Music too—
While barréd clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

~ John Keats, 1819

but brawndo’s got what plants crave—it’s got electrolytes

Via the always brilliant Kottke, we learn that there will be in the US nation-wide screenings of the sadly prescient film Idiocracy from director Mike Judge on 4 October—to mark the movie’s tenth anniversary. Would you go to a show or is it hitting a little too close to home?

a murder is announced

In commemoration of the centenary of her work and the fortieth anniversary of the great crime novelist’s death, the British postal service will be issuing a set of stamps from Studio Sutherl& and artist Neil Webb that contain embedded clues (hidden lenticular and microprinting and heat-sensitive ink) to solve Agatha Christie’s mysteries. The artwork is unique but reminds me a little of macabre styling of Edward Gorey, especially his opening animated sequence to the PBS Mystery-hour. 

landtag

A week ahead of the seventieth anniversary of the founding of the State of Hessen—the first German constituency at that level to be formally reconstituted after World War II as the chief staging-grounds of the American-occupied sector—I was able to arrange (or rather happened upon) a tour of the formal ducal residence that hosts the state parliament (Hessischer Landtag), just removed from the Rathaus and main market square of Wiesbaden, the capital.

Click on any image to enlarge it.
The city will commemorate the occasion by opening all of its ministries on 24 September to the public but it was a privilege to have a guided tour that rather tidily tied together the idea of accessibility, image and engagement on the part of the represented. The entrance, facing the people’s Rathaus, is very much in keeping with the Baroque style of the city’s other royal structures—and was the duke’s (later created grand duke of Nassau-Orange) winter-quarters, the summer palace being a few kilometres down a grand avenue on the bank of the Rhein in Schloss Biebrich.

Just off the central stairwell (Treppenhaus), there was a greenhouse of sorts whose walls were still decorated with a lush jungle motif—distinct from the icy snow-flake theme that subtly adorned the rest of the palace in the ceilings and in the parquet of the floors (I am thinking that people were just beginning to study wintery precipitation under the loop) that once held exotic plants. Now the space only held busts of past Hessian minister-presidents, but having been elevated, the grand-duke took up new addresses and his botanical collection went to Frankfurt am Main to seed the area that’s now known as the Palmengarten.

Another legacy of the royal family was the unexpected premature death of the Duchess Katharina, his Russian wife, caused the grieving Duke to build the Orthodox chapel on the Neroberg as tribute (more on this place to come). This routine of upstairs and downstairs and quite a few of strategically-placed mirrors were designed to make this rather modestly-sized castle appear as large as other great houses in Europe for visiting dignitaries, and we were participants in another carefully arranged diplomatic nudge by being invited, unusually for any historic tour, to sit on the furniture.

In these representational chambers, the love-seats (so called Causeusen) were angled to make opponents to face each other askance and so more relaxed—other sofas had extra wings for advisors. I felt out of my class as a political boffin as others in the group recognised the dance-hall and balconies as places or receiving honours and momentous addresses.

The great hall hosted the first sessions of the state parliament in 1946 and marked the point of transition into the modern addition, refurbished in 2008 in order to make the work of government more transparent and rather a fish-bowl with passers-by able to catch a glimpse or more of the proceedings with windows ringing the gallery of the plenary chamber. The ceiling and seating layout reminded me of the convention held at the Paulus Kirche of Frankfurt (see link above) held in Frankfurt that established the Weimar Republic. I wonder what more insider-secrets await with the open-house event next week.

open-house

As part of a European-wide Heritage Days, this weekend in Germany marks der Tag des offenen Denkmals (Day of Open Monuments), when historic attractions which are not normally open for public inspection (due to lack of funds, etc.) are made accessible and often special exhibitions and excursions are included. Sometimes parts of museums and great houses usually off limits are open as well and is also a vehicle to highlight and promote little known histories. If you are out and about this weekend, be sure to pay special heed to local lore to support this movement and the conservation of heritage.

star date 1312.4

This week marks the fiftieth anniversary of the premier of Star Trek and the launch of an amazing franchise—the Next Generation itself already having passed the half-way mark towards that milestone. Though NBC aired the pilot episode on 8 September 1966, it was actually screened by a Canadian broadcaster two days prior. Here and here are some fun commemorations from earlier in the year. Although it only ran for three seasons before being canceled (two years shy of its stated mission)—having been kept aloft by a tremendous fan-base, the cultural impact and endurance (not to mention the predictive aspect) of the show are immeasurable.

pudding lane

Rather incongruously, Londoners commemorated the anniversary of the Great Fire of 1666 (the three hundred-fiftieth anniversary of this fire that engulfed eighty percent of the city fell over the weekend) by setting alight a wooden model of the seventeenth century skyline—designed by one of the merry arsonists of Burning Man fame.
After the devastation, the mostly timber urban core was rebuilt with the signature grey Portland limestone, but the social and economic disruption must have endured for generations and surely many who lost family and fortune never recovered. The event included a street fair with food and burn treatments from the time.

synchronicity or does not divide the sunday from the rest of the week

What if the first thing that Sky Net changes is not eliminating humankind in order to save the environment but rather something more insidiously straightforward like reforming the calendar and the naïve, inherited way to reckon time?
While I am sure that computers, even without being imbued with intelligence, can handle the foibles of human time-keeping, it would probably be more efficient to dispense with all of those sabbaths, zodiac-signs, leap-years and Moon-sightings—and even weekends since the wicked get no rest. What do you think? Maybe even deference to our home-star might be discounted, since a robotic workforce’s clockwork don’t respect circadian-rhythms and perhaps recognise that there’s little tribal utility and investment left in keeping the weekend sacred or holidays holy. What would machine punch-cards look like?

revenons à nos moutons

With it being Bastille Day, one could be forgiven for taking the title to be one of the rousing but lesser known verses from La Marseille, but it is actually a French idiom to the effect “but we digress,” which sometimes makes an appearance in English too as a turn of phrase.
From an anonymous medieval play called La Farce de Maître Pathelin, an anti-hero and petty thief tries to confuse a county magistrate trying him for sheep-wrangling but introducing details from a second crime—to which the judge cries “but let us return to our sheep at hand.”

one day, maybe next week

Days and dates from the year 1983 correspond perfectly to 2016, as Dangerous Minds excitedly points out through the lens of this magical and demonstrably timeless vintage (and official) calendar of Debbie Harry. This is the stuff of oracles, indeed, and maybe time is just an illusion and wonder what other correspondence that that year might hold for the present—but I agree without reservation that secret missive sent across the decades is to just dance!

social studies or class and cohort

Wanting to assess the quality of maternity care just after the war, a steering committee was established in Britain in 1946, headed by Doctor James Douglas, which took a snap-shot of all the births in that country during the first week of March—the front wave of the Baby Boom generation.
Although the original mission was to improve conditions for expectant mothers and infants, the researchers quickly realised in the days before computerised data-bases what a unique trove of demographic figures they had and expanded scope and have sustained the project and have continued to follow five-thousand of these Douglas Babies. While the subjects of the National Survey does not represent the longest running scientific studies—that honour probably belongs to the pitch-drop experiment or those eternal light bulbs, it is the most intimate and extensive research into lifelong social studies with constant contact among participants and cements a legacy of preventative measures and proactive health. Hearty birthday wishes and many happy returns go out to the thousands of Douglas Babies who’ve reached this milestone this week.

6x6

now hist. and rare: the OED’s rather murderous beginnings and criminal contributors

memory & function (& memory): Scarfolk, the English town forever doomed to repeat the decade of the 1970s, is coming to the air-waves

stranger danger: get cyber safe

life-long learning: adult Norwegian teaches herself to play the violin and documents her amazing improvement

presto the magician: an analysis and appreciation of the Saturday morning cartoon Dungeons & Dragons

nengajo: beautiful collection of Japanese greeting cards for the Lunar New Year, via Everlasting Blort

mmxvi

Happy New Year, Turophiles! Best wishes to you and yours as we welcome 2016 and we have a quick survey of designated, predicted and scheduled events and commemorations for the upcoming time.
To recognise their nutritional significance, the United Nations has declared this year the international year of pulses—that is, your beans, black-eyed peas and other legumes. The Summer Games will be held in Brazil. The Orthodox Church will convene a Holy Synod. Most of the world will be treated to Venus transiting the Sun and the Juno space probe will arrive at Jupiter. Russia is planning to launch an orbiting hotel for space-tourists. Not so many bold assertions or much commitment there. It seems that only astronomical matters are the only safe-call for the world’s reluctant and conservative Nostradamuses, citing the inevitable march of time. There’s that which is called self-fulfilling prophesy. Maybe resolutions are for, after all. What are some of your forecasts?

'twas

No long winter’s nap for us but as we take time out for the holidays, please enjoy this dazzling Christmas tree—or alternatively, this Yule Log. Happy holidays!