jimi-jam

Our thanks again to Nag on the Lake for turning our attention towards party tradition that’s entering its fifth iteration, the mundane Halloween ball (Jimi Halloween, 地味ハロウィン)—organised and attended by adults wanting to celebrate the occasion (see also) but were not yet ready for the commitment to flamboyant and elaborate costumes. Instead, party-goers would dress for everyday situations and potentially awkward interactions, the outfits begging the question what-are-you-supposed-to-be and soliciting a satisfying answer of acknowledgment and understanding. If I were a judge at the event, I’d certainly award top honours to Man Face-Swapping with his Starbucks Cup. I did a thing. Many more relatable characters at the link up top.

argos navis

By way of a rather glum article on an extinct species of bird related to but far lesser known than the dodo, we are introduced to the concept of superannuated constellations (see previously)—the most veteran being the asterism of the Southern Hemisphere named after Jason and the Argonauts’ ship, itself developed from the Egyptian identification as the Boat of Osiris and named by the classical astronomer Ptolemy as one of the chief forty-eight described in his Almagest.  Due to the large patch of sky it occupied, it Argos Navis was broken up in mid-eighteenth century charts to its constituents parts Puppis (the poop deck or stern), Vela (the sails) and Carina (the hull).
Like a syllabary of obscure and unused emoji characters, there’s quite a listing of obsolete groupings from the century prior, many named by botanist, amateur astrologer and quack John Hill (*1714 – †1775) whose name sadly isn’t inscribed among the stars, much like our dead dodo’s cousin Turdus Solitarius (Rodrigues solitaire). Others that are now dissolved, merged or incorporated into presently accredited constellations, speaking to their age, include Globis Ærostatiscus (the hot air balloon), Dentalium (tooth enamel), Sciurus Volans (flying squirrel), Phœnicopterus (pink flamingo) and Officina Typographica (the printshop). Sadly too none of these fall within the tropics of the Zodiac.

spring forward, fall back

About a week ago I recall expressing my feeling of gratitude for not having to seasonally adjust the clocks (though mostly this is accomplished automatically and effortlessly with only our dumb and disconnected timepieces needful of our attention) not remembering properly how the change takes place so late in October, which I suppose only speaks to the disruptive and disorientating nature of the practise in the first place.

Though pleased with the outcome of the European Union referendum regarding the end of daylight savings time and leaving the seasons to the tilt and shift of the planet (albeit it was one of those non-partisan issues that everyone can support—reportage I think one might find on that new news channel spin-off that pledges to be Brexit-free), I was a bit disappointed to first be disabused and then to wake up to the confusion of the clocks, although for the last penultimate time.  For those who’ve known nothing else (despite complaints), we wonder how baked-in it is in terms of both programming and posture.

8x8

best in breed: national banks in Turkmenistan under presidential decree to fund efforts to enhance the pedigree of the country’s Alabay dog

call of the wild: scientist record the mating sounds of the Amazonian bellbird, which can exceed the noise-level of a chainsaw at very close-range

zodiac killer: a treasury of Persian demons

not the doral: Number One Daughter celebrates her tenth wedding anniversary at Camp David

yip yip: a couple’s admirably coordinated costumes

major arcana: Salvador Dalí’s tarot deck re-issued

augmented roman: a truly phonetic-spelling reform measure for the English language, bringing the alphabet up to forty-three distinct letters

roaming costs: researchers tracking migrating Russian eagles are hit with hefty data tariffs once the birds cross borders, via Slashdot

fachgeschäft für ehehygiene

Born on this day in 1919, Beate Uhse (née Köstin, †2001) aviatrix and entrepreneur Beate Uhse began her career with civil aircraft becoming Germany’s first woman stunt pilot and post-war went into business for herself, opening the world’s first erotic entertainment boutique (see also) when most people strong though the topic to be taboo to the extent one thought about it at all.
Beginning in 1946 as a reference library on family-planning and then graduating to a sex shop in Flensburg in the north on the Baltic in 1962, establishing a reputation, a market and a brand fully fourteen years before pornography was decriminalised in West Germany, her eponymous shops are to be found all over Europe, and our current healthier and more informed attitude to sexuality owes a debt to these storefronts that were never pushed from public view and debate.

it’s dangerous to go alone—take this!

Via one of the latest thematic installments of Things Magazine we are directed to this wonderful fantasy atlas, a gazetteer in the proper sense, of video game levels charted. 

The collection contains hundreds of maps categorised by gaming system, platform or genre. The world-building that is behind some of our favourite titles and franchises is really astounding.  Much more to explore at the links above.

i read the news today—oh boy—four thousand holes in blackburn-lancashire

Four days ahead of the General Election on this day in 1924, the conservatively-aligned tabloid, The Daily Mail (previously plus see also), published a letter, purportedly a directive from Grigory Zinoviev, revolutionary and head of the Cominterm, to the Communist Party of Great Britain urging revolution and subversion of parliamentary politics.
The reaction in the ballots prompted the collapse of the Liberty Party, significantly forstalled the development of the then fledgling Labour Party and precipitated a Tory landslide. Zinoviev vehemently denied having anything to do with the supposed correspondence and pointed out how the forger had not done his homework when constructing the letterhead and committees by naming them incorrectly and that the Communist International would not meddle in the elections of foreign states. Historians and current scholarship agree with this stance, not penning the fabrication of the missive to the newspaper directly (while blaming them for citing dodgy and incendiary sources, we’ve another name for it, in their page nine story) and rather source the idea of encouraging sedition abroad to the messenging of the White Russian (czarist) intelligence to try to discredit the Bolsheviks internationally.