buddhist “iron man” found by nazis is from outer space

In the 1938, an archaeological expedition was sent from Nazi Germany to Tibet as part of Heinrich Himmler’s Ahnenerbe programme, a project that sought to validate Germany’s hegemony through cultural and historic research of what was considered Aryan and some very creative and convenient revisions.

Much of their work involved fascination for mysticism and the occult—real Indian Jones stuff, and on this mission, members of the Schutzstaffel (SS) and scientific community brought back a trove of artefacts, including portraits of supremacy (studies of silhouettes and cranial measurements), seed samples from native grains, the robe of a Dalai Lama, volumes of holy books yet to be translated, and one iron rendering of the god Namtösé, one of the four heavenly kings of Buddhist mythology, which was catalogued as the “Eisenmensch.” The actual headlines used could not be improved upon.  They probably brought back this one statuette because it had a swastika, a traditional symbol of good fortune, inscribed in his chest but were unaware of the most unusual material that it was formed out of. University researchers in Stuttgart (where the idol ended up warehoused and nearly forgotten, sort of like the closing scenes where the Ark of the Covenant ends up) have just matched the thousand year old composition of the extremely hard iron to extraterrestrial origins and the makeup of other scattered fragments of the Chinga meteorite impact event over China and Mongolia eons prior. This was certainly not the first example of ancient peoples using meteoritic metals or possibly revering them by is probably the only graven image worked from such a piece from space.

post-meridian or l’isola del tesoro

Here is a brilliant graphic for the Treasure Island music festival held in the bay of San Francisco, on the artificial island of the same name built to host the World's Fair and Golden Gate Exposition and was used later as a naval station and numerous times as a film-set. The over turned ship is of course a visual reference to the Pirates of the Caribbean saga. I find that series infinitely watchable, especially for its rather convoluted storylines, and that particular maneuver to escape the Doldrums and the prior marooning of the captain on a deserted isle where he was made to face splintering alter-egos reminds me a lot of the Umberto Eco of the long, complex reminisces woven for the shipwrecked and stranded nobleman from The Island of the Day Before (L'isola del giorno prima). The ill-fated expedition was seeking out the Prime Meridian and anchoring skies, in an astronomical sense, and the forsaken character, alone with his memories, believes the archipelago straddles the International Date Line, with neighbouring shores just out reach in yesterday and tomorrow.

discontiguous

A few weeks ago, during the run up to municipal elections, I noticed this billboard—for what turned out to be a study proposing that Bavaria could manage for itself independent of the rest of Germany, posted on a concrete column at the intersection that tends to host political posters, though not exclusively.

My confusion subsided and I hear a bit about the arguments therein on a radio interview. There is no active separatist party or movement. There is, however, a more vocal coalition for the partition of Franconia, given its separate and historic cultural identity, from the Free State. Such sentiments are dismissed at the peril of the metropolitan entity, I think, but I did not think anymore about talk of secession until Scotland’s polite bid for autonomy started to figure more prominently in the news. Now, the Spanish region of Catalonia is pressing for self-rule as the rest of the country is under threat of laming policies of austerity and a surrender of its own sovereignty to a larger, umbrella confederation. The borders of Europe respected today are heirs of a long and complex history of wars, dynasty, union and omission, and I wonder how economic insecurities might contest anachronisms and relatively recent consent to rule and tribute. The parsing of this patchwork of nations may return with popular support, but is it truly a disburdening to distance oneself?

tithe

Usually I am an unabashed apologist for the Catholic Church, ready to make excuses for a very human institution—although some conduct by some members is inexcusable and past conduct certainly deserves reproach—however I am very saddened and disheartened to hear the outcome of their latest stance and statute, licensed by a court of law, which essentially ruled that members of the Church that choose not to pay the eight percent customary tax to support the Church cannot remain in good standing.

Excom- munication is such an ugly word and the suit, prosecuted at the behest of the Pope no less in response to many leaving the fold specifically in Germany, was careful to avoid such language but the new policy dictates basically that: one that shirks his monetary dues can be denied a proper burial unless he or she repents and other equally grave ministering, like the right to wed in the eyes of the Church or become god-parents. This decision with all its lawyerly vouchsafing is just a notch below, in my opinion, the selling of Indulgences (get out of jail free cards) that caused the Reformation. Charitable branches of the Church do a lot of good through their works, but parishioners have no say what percentage of their donations go to overhead and administrative costs and should have every right to opt out of giving for whatever reason without fear of being begrudged. For the sake of full-disclosure, I do own an Indulgence and I am exempt from the church-tax because I pay no German tax as an American but remain a voting-member in my parish—however, the ruling is disturbing and I worry for what the Church is in danger of becoming.

conching

While real threats are clawing steadily at the food pyramid, with the potential spread of awful diseases in livestock and in crops, shortages and skyrocketing prices for grain, spillage of rogue, engineered organisms into the environment and general mismanagement of land and resources (plus treatment that is less than humane), the US Food and Drug Administration is poised to send inspection teams to audit several Swiss dairies and chocolate manufacturers to ensure compliance with American standards for sanitation and, I suppose, for patriotism. This particular episode of Security Theatre clears Swiss chocolates as platforms for launching a biological or radiological attack on US interests, declaring said truffles to be non-weaponized, and is brought to you by the sponsors of the concerned US confectionaries union, I’m sure. Switzerland, I think, is not being specifically targeted by the intent of the resolution, however, it does seem to add insult to injury just after friction between another US agency and another venerable Swiss institution, the Internal Revenue Service and the banks.

I imagine that precision clockworks will be next. Of course, with imported food, consumers need to know what they’re eating is safe, but it is American agribusiness and appetites that’s escalating many of the problems with food supply and actual food security, and submitting to indignities that defy common-sense is not much of an alternative to being blocked, cut-out or compromised. Chocolate-makers would face pyrrhic victory is they were allowed to stay in the export business, providing they toss aside traditional manufacturing methods or possibly feed their milk cows a recombineered diet.

run-off or terrestrial sunsets

Via The Colossal and Five-Infinity, photographer Andre Ermolaev shares some of his air-borne impressions of Iceland’s rugged and liquid landscape.
These incredible images are created by volcanic ash, vibrant and chthonic minerals that the Earth gives up on a fairly regular basis there, being scuttled away by rivers and streams.

The photographer’s eye and technical acumen, I think, are really able to capture in this series what photography was intended for and distinguished from the other visual arts by—being able to distill and communicate a sort of landslide never seen before nor will ever be seen again, like being able to capture the roiling shadows of a cloud or the play of colours in a sunset.

Be sure to check out some of the other photographs featured on these communities.  These smoky, spyrograph moments are outstandingly beautiful and makes me hopeful that I might be able to also frame such compositions as they flow downstream.

memory alpha or library of last resort

Founded originally in 1800 as a collection of law books for the convenience of Congress and a depository of patents, the US Library of Congress has grown its stacks and archives immensely through acquisitiveness and inquisitiveness (all publishing houses are required, through what is known as mandatory deposit, to provide the Library with two copies of all published works) and has continued to move towards independence as a resource, styled the “library of last resort,” for academics, as well as the research arm of the legislative branch. Pioneering the public frontier since the mid 1990s, the Library is continuing to make its holdings freely accessible.

Though the digital collection has been steadily growing for years, with some fifteen million images available besides, it is always inspiring to return here amd search the collection and turn up something new. That’s only the surface, too, with the depths of history and discipline buffeting beneath—not to mention the chance for invention and scholarship. It is a great resource for browsing and discovery, with many special exhibits and programmes, however, no substitute for getting lost in the shelves of one’s neighbourhood archives and for the intensity of local and native knowledge. Librarians are a fiercely independent and impassioned breed and eager to ensure their caretaking is palpable and apparent.

wies’n or the price of eggs in china

Der Spiegel’s English language site has an excellent essay—somewhat of an apology, on the opening weekend of Oktoberfest, which goes on to extol the virtues of the world’s biggest celebration. Though many Muffels summarily dismiss Oktoberfest as dilute and overrun with tourists, profoundly Bavarian and like Pinocchio’s Island of the Donkey Boys, this ode urges people not to succumb to this attitude and enjoy the traditions and atmosphere, which are still buoyant. All in all, there is little negative press surrounding the event (that’s propagated by word of mouth and wavering on plans to go) other than the annual constructive cost analysis on that litre mug (Maß) of specially brewed beer. The increasing expense of refreshment is intensely discussed as a macroeconomic indicator. Everything from the relative worth of the euro, inflation, grain supply and climate and fuel costs—including how much of said grain supply is on hook for bio-fuels, and the sentiment of the competing brewers, is encapsulated in the price of a tall drink. These incremental increases do dampen the mood, a bit and at first I suppose, but attendance and consumption is on the rise as well and I think, despite the crowds and excess, such dull cares ought to be tossed away at a monumental and historic party.