pro-bono or controlling-share

Rather than yielding to investor demands that the social media giant sell out to the highest bidder and thus loose its independent voice (Yahoo! was once offered the Facebook and where are they now?), I thought that a government, like the tech-haven Iceland, ought to swoop in and operate Twitter for the public good, sort of like an NPR of socials.
Despite the ability of Twitter to turn a profit, those charged with maximising returns are sensing the opportunity for a windfall—however that’s reckoned in business terms. There is another avenue to explore, as Boing Boing informs, that may be for the good of all stakeholders in allowing the users to take it over (in the sense of financial stewardship) and run it as a cooperative venture. As the proposal points out, and not being a follower of the sports ball really, I would have never appreciated the genius of this model, there’s a parallel to be found in the premier status that the small town of Green Bay in the state of Wisconsin has retained over all these years and the last of its kind. The Packers (named for Acme tinned meat company) are owned by their fans and have never been the playthings of billionaire investors. What do you think? Greed tempers censorship as much as any other ideology.

catchascatchcan

We had heard beforehand of the unique Russian republic between the Black and Caspian seas called Kalmykia—the only place in Europe where a plurality of the population is practising Buddhists, which is pretty remarkable to learn in itself, but we had never known about the first and still (nominally so, at least) Jewish state (autonomous oblast) called Birobidzhan until listening a really engrossing discussion about it on NPR’s Fresh Air.
Established in 1931 in the Soviet far east, on the border with China, almost two decades before the founding of Israel, the territory partially planned and to a large part championed by Swiss-German Bauhaus architect Hannes Meyer. After the Bolshevik Revolution which suppressed religious practises and outlawed private property and put enterprise under the mantle of the USSR, Jewish people, who already faced discrimination and were excluded from many public pursuits and now lost their livelihoods as owners of small businesses. Birobidzhan was advertised as a homeland where they could express their Yiddish heritage (and speak the language, whereas Hebrew predominated in Israel) without fear of reprisal—but as the discussion reveals, it was far from ideal—with cultural labels imposed and thrust upon individuals rather than allowing people to self-identify (which is usually the case in such situations) and the migration seemed more of an expulsion to a harsh and remote land, hardly arable and with no infrastructure. After initially being encouraged to build a community, those members of the “elite” who promoted it and tried to make a success out of the experiment were themselves victims of subsequent Stalinist purges. Be sure to check out the whole fascinating and tragic interview in the link up top.

silent gesture

That white medalist in the iconic and controversial 1968 Summer Games Black Power salute was not just some witless by-stander, as the always engrossing Kottke informs, and although the second-place didn’t raise his hand in protest, Peter Norman from Australia, wore a human rights badge and suffered consequences like his fellow athletes, Tommie Smith and John Carlos.
Norman was sensitive to the plight of minorities as well, having witnessed apartheid in his native land that included forced adoption of aboriginal babies to white families and other atrocities. When in 2005 the University of San Jose immortalised the moment with a statue—Smith and Carlos both former students, Norman was approached about inclusion. Norman respectfully declined, but not because he didn’t want to be associated with their defiant statement any longer—rather he wanted anyone visiting the statue to have the opportunity to stand in that vacant spot and express their solidarity too.

soy cuba

This collection of vintage Cuban political posters (propaganda is always such a dicey and loaded word) of curator Michael Taylor of Bath, UK comes to our notice via Messy Nessy Chic’s intrepid searches. Circa the early 1970s, most of these artworks were commissioned to mark the annual Tri-Continental Conferences that Cuba hosted through its Organisation of Solidarity with the People of Asia, Africa and Latin America (OSPAAAL in Spanish) to bolster support for human rights, social development and the ideals of socialism as a counter-weight to imperialism and globalisation. Due to a lack of ink, during the height of the Cold War in the 1980s, production dropped off, but there was a resurgence beginning in the year 2000 and still publish to this day. A comprehensive gallery of organisation’s posters can be found at this partner-site, Docs Populi.

lustration

While it is probably almost always amateur-night at the False Flag, depending on how chuffed one imagines oneself to be and the target-audience to be duped—despite what the hecklers may counter, the manufactured junta, military coup that the current and long-standing regime of the Turkish government sprung in the midst of tragic distraction and suffering ought to be a cue to the world that this Ottoman cabal ought not be accorded the respect and confidence of a legitimate and democratically sourced power any longer.
The rolls of undesirables to be purged were at the ready to be released in the immediate aftermath of the orchestrated failure, like the enemies-list of some paranoid Roman emperor (the attested role of country’s military’s executive estate being to preserve the standard of secularism in the face of the blurring of Church and State) and ushered in the lock-down of thousands of educational, judicial, media and charitable institutions accused of subversion, not counting the depleted ranks of the army and untold political dissidents in the sweeping process. The staging of the whole theatre was sloppy—but also was the media coverage and critical-analysis. Such disdain for difference of opinion certainly and basic human-rights could not be the hallmarks of accession to the European Union—not that the muzzled majority of Turkish people should suffer more for the tyranny of their leaders, nor does it seem to be an ideal location for the US to store its nuclear arsenal or consider its NATO partnership a reliable one. Let’s hope that this pretend narrative could lend momentum to the real thing.

secession sessions

Though, as has been proposed for California, Texas can choose to break itself up into five smaller states—for better regional governance, but cannot—peacefully at least—secede from the rest of the US. The UK’s voicing its intent to divest itself of European Union membership has resulted, however, in encouraging secessionist groups the world around—even before the the buyers’ bregret might sink in, including a very vocal camp deep in the heart of Texas.
While Texit may seem a little too obvious and perhaps movements will rally around hashtags instead of the other way around, apparently fully one quarter of the American population would not be opposed to their state of residence going it alone, although most of this silent minority is admittedly not actively pursuing the matter. What do you think? Do you support your friendly neighbourhood partitioners? Maybe Britain’s lesson will caution us to be carefully what we wish for and maybe love our umbrella institutions enough to make them reform, lest we not only be let go but rather expelled with prejudice.

frexit, nexit or waiting for the other shoe to fall

It seems that authorities at the European Union would like to hasten the UK out of the bloc and not prolong matters, for fear that lingering would result in extended economic turmoil and that it might cause contagion.
Not only might Oxbridge, Gibraltar, Scotland and County Ulster choose secession from England, votes and sentiments more or less split down these internal borders, there’s a cascade effect already happening and I am not sure how earnest it is—though I think Brexit came as a shock to many, and if lessons imparted from Britain’s going alone will prove discouraging of revolt. The Netherlands, France and Hungary, all championed by emergent right-leaning politicians, are calling for their own plebiscites. If they do materialise, let’s hope they’re awarded better acronyms and portmanteaux, and that in the long run we don’t lose sight, amid business interests or the complaints—and some of them certainly valid ones, about EU-House rules, of the long-range objective of this Union of promoting peace, cooperation and understanding in this war-torn continent and to avoid the jingoistic mistakes of the past.

reformer or lolled

Though perhaps less famous in the annals of religious reformation movements, the Lollards—under the leadership of theologian John Wycliffe—ought to be better remembered than the movements on the continent that are heir to them.
More succinct than the ninety-five theses of Martin Luther, which may or may not have been posted publically on the door of the Wittenberger Dom though certainly posted to the Archbishop of Mainz on All Hallows Eve in 1517 (enough to get Luther in hot water), the Lollards compiled a list of Twelve Conclusions that was definitely nailed to the doors of Westminster Abbey and Saint Paul’s in early Spring 1395, and was a similar litany of accusations before the practise of selling indulgences took off and convinced Henry VIII to stand his ground against Church authority. As a prologue to their general beliefs, the Lollards rallied against the Church’s meddling in temporal powers, conquest and crusade, celibacy in the priesthood, exorcism and veneration of relics as witchcraft and idolatry, and questioned the need for the Church to mediate between God and man—even producing an unsanctioned edition of the Bible in English for home-use. The knights of this brotherhood were called Lollards rather pejoratively (but like the Quakers or the Shakers, they were happy to run with this name) and gruesomely after the babbling imitation of the gravediggers that bore away Plague victims, who were deputised to administer last rites—to mumble, as in lullaby. Suppression, intrigue and rather disproportion responses sent the Lollards underground but ensured that this resurgence and received tenants would be retrieved by later Protestantism.

agent provocateur

The conservateur extraordinaire Messy Nessy Chic presents the history of the violent Paris Riots of May 1968, which brought France to the brink of civil war, through protest posters and other art work of the revolution. Although much studied, vividly remembered by contemporaries and very much in keeping with the times when waves of societal unrest swept across the globe, no one can cite a quick or definitive explanation why the revolts occurred. The movement was an amalgam of various leftists student organisations consisting of anarchists, Maoists and anti-capitalists occupied factories and financial institutions and at the height of the riots, convinced more than twenty percent of the working population of France to go on strike.
After the violence dissipated, which saw the president flee the country, matters seemed to return to normal—perhaps a little too quickly, and the protesters fell short of their stated goals of promoting equality and social justice with the old regime that they rallied against returning to office with what they considered a stronger mandate, not that the acts were all in vain. I wonder what people will make of our contemporary movements that are just as contemptible to some in a few decades. Be sure to visit the website to peruse the extensive gallery of protest posters and to learn a bit more about getting caught up in le Zeitgeist.

asia-minor or turkish delight

The middle of next month (16 May 2016) marks the centenary of the signing secret pact known as the Sykes-Picot Agreement that carved up the Middle East in an arbitrary fashion, drawing the modern borders of Iran, Iraq, Syria and Palestine. Covert negotiations went on for the previous five months, in anticipation of the defeat of the Ottoman Empire by the Triple Entente, Britain, France and the assenting third party, Imperial Russia, but pivotal battles of the Great War were yet to be fought.
The outcome on the fields of Amiens, Ancre, Marne and Megiddo did not negatively diminish the apportioned claims of the UK for Jordan, Palestine and strategic points along the Mediterranean and for France, the Levant, represented by the eponymous ambassadors—however, Imperial Russia, who had been promised Constantinople, the straits of the Bosporus and Armenia (but consulted in matters as much as the Arabs or the Persians were) lost their territory due to the intervening destabilising of the Bolshevik Revolution that transpired in November of the following year. This forfeiture allowed the other powers to proceed with a second wave of colonialism and though the resulting architecture has fuelled overwhelming sectarian strife but did also engender a framework of protections, tolerance for minorities in the region. This imperfect and shaky geopolitical architecture endured as a legacy for nearly a century and though the formal lines in the sand still exist, what precious little about the Agreement that was sheltering and steadying was dismantled with violence and prejudice by the Cosplay Caliphate. The Agreement only came to light thanks to a leak from the Bolshevik brokers to the newspaper Pravda, in retaliation for having their claim denied, and later picked up by the Manchester Guardian. The revelation led to massive uprisings in the Middle East as World War I itself drew to a close, which was countered with damage-control measures that were not more flattering than the secret partitioning , the buzzards circling, to begin with.

allthing or all that’s fit to print

Boing Boing’s Iceland correspondent reports on a wonderful and antithetical response to the scourge of off-shoring and out-sourcing (and indeed even proxy-wars) in the plan, having already secured parliamentary endorsement, to make the country a designated safe haven for the freedoms of expression and information.

Advocates, who hope to create a Switzerland of bits, hope that this stance will compel other governments to be more transparent and forth-coming about legislation and its enforcement. Cobbling together some of the best whistle-blower protection and anti-censorship laws from different jurisdictions—for instance, the attorney-client privilege that any conversation with a journalist enjoys in Belgium or the public registry of all government documents (even classified ones) in Estonia, is creating a forum where witness to corruption can come forward without fear of reprisal. As if meaningful reform and mindful democracy weren’t occasion enough, perhaps this new media landscape might be able to attract internet start-ups to recover some of the jobs-prospects lost to Iceland’s former dignities where laws are not biased towards copy-holders and a select few with political heft—besides, surely the land of fire and ice is probably an ideal place to operate with a smart labour pool and totally green geothermal energy to power it all.

hermit kingdom or thirty-eighth parallel

With North Korea in the headlines again over ballistic missile testing and general aggressive behaviour towards its neighbours and the mounting calls for sanctions in response, I had been engaging in a little bit of research into the matter and came across a really astounding relic of bureaucracy in a presidential commission in South Korea charged with the administration of the five provinces of the North.
Although this powerless (as those lands are governed already by North Korea) shadow-government, called the Committee for the Five Northern Korean Provinces (이북5도위원회) and established in 1949, seems today like a sinecure posting, I suppose following the aftermath of the Korean War, hopes for reunification and reconciliation seemed within reach and uniting the Koreas remains a goal for both sides—although the prospects for that seem to be receding. The constitutions of both states define their countries as the whole, undivided Korean peninsula. I wonder what these conscientious bureaucrats do all day, with no access to the provinces in their respective areas of responsibility, and having no jurisdiction in the arena of foreign relations, as that role is handled exclusively by the Ministry of Unification. The situation and perhaps the hope too is in some ways similar to the state of affairs for the divided Germanys but there was never such a government-in-exile, as it were, operating jenseits the border.

doxological

With the papal-visit in Mexico wrapping-up, The Atlantic’s recommended Lenten reading, I think, takes on greater dimensions in Graham Greene’s novel The Power and the Glory. There was also a cinematic adaptation called The Fugitive starring Henry Fonda. Inspired by an actual sojourn on the part of the author in the Mexican state of Tabasco when the governor was cracking down on the influence of the Catholic church, an anti-hero known only as the “whiskey priest” faces dogged persecution worse than Jean Valjean when the character resolves to conduct underground services and hold confessions despite the government’s suppression of the faith, forcing priests into retirement, burning churches and destroying relics and other religious paraphernalia. Though the struggle of the seriously flawed main figure—whom no community wanted as his activities attracted unwanted attention and a state-sanctioned inquisition that led to more killings and destruction—was condemned by Church censors for sacrilegious and agnostic portrayal, I agree that it is a good-read especially when one considers how broken resolutions (first for New Year’s and then for Lent) are compounded and confounded and the physical articles of faith are denuded among other claimants and one only has one’s own time in the wilderness as a measure.

i drive a rolls royce, because it’s good for my voice

The always compelling Nag on the Lake invites to visit an expertly curated gallery, showing in London, of early 1970s political protest posters to come out of the workshop of the University of California’s Berkeley campus.
These bold and iconic posters really capture the Zeitgeist of distrust and dissolution that framed the era of Vietnam, Nixon and violent kettling of rallies, and the quality and artistry of these prints, incidentally, inspired some to believe that the peace-movement was backed by the Communists in order to corrupt the youth and overthrow the government. This conspiratorial belief only strengthened the hubris of the politicians in their thinking that they surely could not have genuinely engendered such disaffections on their own. There are some fifty posters to view but I especially liked this one that recalls Goya’s nightmare vision of the paranoid Titan Cronus (Saturn) devouring his offspring, the Olympian gods.

rarebit or why do we call them comics

Atlas Obscura presents a really fascinating essay that deconstructs a constellation factors that make up the hallmarks of modernity through the lens of a turn of the century comic strip that centres around midnight-snack, indigestion fuelled nightmares with the blame laid squarely on an “imported” (the focus seems to be mostly from an American perspective as the caricatures were but is surely of a universal character since internationally people were experiencing similar cultural shocks) delicacy called “Welsh Rarebit,” basically cheese-toast soaked in beer as a sort of hair-of-the-dog ballast for late-night revellers.
Assiduously, Winsor McCay, under the consultation of his series “Dream of the Rarebit Fiend,” documents the development of rather Freudian fantasies as carried out in the restive slumber of the indignant, whose psyche and drives might be explained mechanically as an assault by cheese as heartburn. Far from funny, at least to contemporary viewers—much like a lot of the reserve content of the funny pages—McCay portrays secret and vengeful scenes that one would rather not disclose, lest one shows his or her vulnerabilities and suppressed desires. As easily, however, people were willing to adopt a litany of compromise to gain modern conveniences—the electrified dwellings that invited staying up through the night, the logistical coordination that allowed people to live in growing urban-settings (to cultivate such routines and support surplus consumption), I believe that the illustrator though that his readership could recognise that something other was driving this feeling of being unsettled besides just alcohol and cheese, unlike the spectre of Jacob Marley who was initially dismissed as a spot of gravy gone bad. Such fiendish behaviour reflected perhaps made the world more receptive to adopting new customs and paradigms, like the psycho-analysis and other accommodations (and necessary back-lash) that came in its wake. Check out the thesis for further details and panels. Turophiles, what do you think?

444 days or ajax and argo

Some thirty-five after their release on the cusp of the Iran-Iraq War, captives of the US-Iranian Hostage Crisis are going to receive compensation for their long ordeal—which was mostly spurned in the ensuing decades over the revolutionary government being granted immunity from prosecution. Passing through this hall on a daily basis, I am keenly aware that the place where I work was the evacuation point for the rescued hostages but at the same time keenly aware of my own ignorance in the incubation and execution of these events.  For me at least, the diplomatic intrigues like the initial coup to secure a bridge in WWII north Africa for the Allies but then descending into greed over oil, the US hosting of the deposed shah for medical treatment, citizens of the “Great Satan” being issued Canadian passports so they could be smuggled out of the country, US spy agencies attempting to broker power despite the fact no operatives spoke Persian, remain overshadowed by the complaint of Ronald Reagan that the release overshadowed his inauguration ceremony—though the timing may have secured his election.
In retaliation, Iraq was given materiel and intelligence support by the US to prosecute the attack on its neighbour, and off we go. Ajax, the Trojan anti-hero, was the code-name for the operation that originally toppled the regime of the shah, and Argo, in reference to the voyage of Jason and the Argonauts, was the cover for the caper that the Canadian embassy carried out that fronted the filming of a sci-fi movie—vis-à-vis shooting Tatoonie on location in Tunisia. Insofar as it’s knowable, this affair seems to figure quite large in the continuum of degrading relations and proxy warfare with unexpected and long-reaching consequences.

shop-class or genie back in the bottle

Though sometimes touted with great optimism as the desk-side Industrial Revolution, democratizing manufacture and taking the power away from big business (and one ought not to curb one’s aspirations on this account), invoking how inkjet printers did not put the publishing magnates into arrears Wired! magazine presents more of a tamed but nonetheless important speculation on the possibilities of 3D printing with modelling to help artists and artisans perfect their final product.
Sort of like confronting a first draft with red ink and the necessary detachment from one’s own words, 3D modelling and experi- mentation allows one to explore folds, contours and stresses nearly as on the native media and approach the potters’ wheel, as it were, with a bit more confidence. But what do you think? There’s probably much to be gained by the return of cottage-industry or the ability to assert some independence from the factories and sweat-shops or even one’s warranty and service-agreement by being able to produce one’s own quasi-unauthorised replacement parts. Perhaps the desktop revolution did not occur with printing and self-publishing (at least, not to order) in part because the presses were so cheap but the ink so dear. Designing our own printers, however, perhaps we won’t let that short-coming materialise, unless we are placated with instant delivery on demand and the tumult of obsolescence.

whistling dixie

Not to be confused with the historical frontier region of the Russian Empire on the northern shores of the Black Sea and a buffer for Ottoman lands, the Federal Territory of Novorossiya was short-lived confederation of separatist factions that never achieved statehood, lasting only from May until the end of 2014. Some suggest (but just as ‘separatist’ and ‘loyalist’ depends on one’s perspective) that the people’s republic was designed to fail so that in exchange for return of break-away municipalities Ukraine could be persuaded to conditionally accept the annexation of the Crimea, which rings a bit like sour-grapes. The organisers’ choice of national banner seems rather unfortunate with its resemblance to the rebel flag of the American Confederate states, considering especially how after all these years the US had finally managed to secure the take-down of some symbols of hate. Yuri and Dmitri slide into the General Lee.
Inquiring into their inspiration, officials argued that their flag design was derived from the standards of the Cossacks resisting the Tartars—though such a flag never existed, though there is some similarity to the Russian imperial naval jack. By the by, although quite happy that some select major retail outlets quite vocally expressed their solidarity by no longer selling such instruments of ‘heritage,’ despite their utility for identifying useful idiots, as with Nazi memorabilia, I don’t know what to make of the leading-wave of self-censorship with the decision (equally vocal and perhaps self-serving to relegate the Dukes of Hazzard County to the memory-hole. It is not as if people ought to learn about the Civil Rights Movement, the Civil War or racism through that television series (which, on balance, was more thoughtful than I thought), but excising that embarrassment is too revisionist for my taste. Quietly drop it as a bad show not worthy of our nostalgia but not as unthink programming. What other political entities and broadcasts might be disappeared in accordance with prevailing preference and conveniently forgot. What was Mister Roper’s agenda on Three’s Company and should future generations be spared such obvious, inverted bias? What do you think?

daytrip: the rosenau

H and I were in Rödental by Coburg and made a stop at the nearby Schloß Rosenau, referred to apparently in English—as we were about to learn through a litany of intimate connections, as the Rosenau. Owned for centuries by the Knights of Rosenau, the estate passed into the House of Saxe-Gotha after the last impoverished owner became weighted down by more debts incurred by a wonderfully eccentric ornithological hobby that entailed teaching native finches to sing like English pipits and self-publishing a treatise on it. The duke and duchess bore and raised the future Prince Albert in this castle—who would go on to become the husband (consort) of Queen Victoria. The couple lived in and reigned from mostly Windsor of course, but returned often to the Rosenau and the palace in Coburg.
After the outbreak of World War I made the British royal family much more reticent about admitting to their German connections, the property stood empty. As the Russian Revolution displaced other relations, however, the surviving line of the Romanov family and titular empress of the realm—with her ladies in waiting—was allowed to live there in exile, and in relative peace and comfort, having converted the library into an Orthodox chapel, until her death in 1938. Today, the castle and grounds are maintained as a state park and museum, and we’ll surely visit again for a tour and to see the gardens and their follies—ruins, grottoes and an artificial waterfall, in full glory. I knew some of this history beforehand, but it will forever strike me as incredulous that such events took place right down the road and garner little attention or fanfare.

three-ring or alas and alack

Atlas Obscura has an interesting, involved biography of the complicated and convoluted live of Mad Monk Rasputin’s daughter, Maria.

The entire article is a rewarding read and not to reveal too many spoilers, after being transplanted from rural Siberia to Saint Petersburg for cultural refinement and fleeing the Revolution after her father’s mysterious assassination, Rasputina first found work in a cabaret act in Bucharest, all the while continuing a rapport with her murdered father through séances—who apparently offered dubious romantic advice, carrying on with a confidence-trickster who impersonated an impoverished Romanov family member. In the mid 1930s, Rasputina immigrated to America and worked as a lion-tamer, until being mauled by a bear put an end to that career-path. Afterward, she worked as a riveter in a Los Angeles shipyard during World War II while publishing her life story until compelled to retire due to her age, though still hale and hearty. Throughout the 1960s and 1970s Rasputina supplemented her pension by giving psychic-readings, complete with trance visitations of candid First Lady Betty Ford.