vernacular

Collectors' Weekly has an excellent and engrossing article profiling the curators and collection of the smallest museum in the world, located serendipitously down an alleyway in Manhattan.

This cabinet of curiosities is installed in the space left empty (formerly occupied by a freight elevator) beneath the collectors' production studio, and aims to document the dander of society captured in changing exhibits, showing the wonders of everyday things. I suppose it's like a time capsule, keenly aware of its own irony, except it's always on display, inviting people not only to stop and look but also engage in dialogue and share their own experience with collecting and personal criteria. Although the intent differs, I see the same tiny museum reflected in these delightful lending-libraries, popping up everywhere, like these stacks housed in a surplus telephone booth at a remote campsite in Switzerland. Of course, the depository is there for sharing and leisurely reading while on vacation, but there's an aesthetic to it too—something reaching beyond the titles and choice, how they got there and what sort of forces keep books in circulation or dammed up in an unexpected spot—which is far better than anything on demand and flustered for attention.

unmoved mover

In response to Ankara's violent usurping the protesters' of their venue in Istanbul have taken a passive stance. The so-called “Standing Man” has inspired hundreds of others to keep a silent vigil, not willing to be kettled and moving for hours and refusing to budge, despite authorities waxing wise to the statement. Like the riots in Tunisia over the desperation of and empathy for a fruit-seller's dwindling prospects that went on to ignite the revolutions of the Arab Spring, the situation in Turkey is evolving, growing from a protest on environmental grounds to an expression of grave dissatisfaction with the drift of the current regime.

oh weal, oh woe or ttip—ta ta for now

Watchdog CEO (Corporate Europe Observatory) delves into the details of the US-EU trade agreement that was ratified at the G9 summit and shows how, without much imagination of an embarrassment of gullibility, public welfare is becoming a nuisance easily steamrolled by business interests, constituted in such a way as to give industry carte-blanche to flagrantly ignore established national laws and policies and give pause to governments thinking of championing the common weal.  Of course this development is vying for attention (or rather, seeking cover) with the Conference itself and the effective-date for FATCA in Germany, plus whatever distracting scandal of the day. 

When regulatory climates are seen as damaging to investor profits or acting toward the detriment of health, labour-rights, safety or the environment—depending on one's perspective, both parties are bound to submit their cases before a kangaroo court of arbitrated settlement, the commission for Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP), headed by a group of lawyers with an established reputation. Lobbyists on both sides of the Atlantic are responsible for crafting these conditions, and thankful activists the world around are keenly aware of the dangers of disincentivizing de-soverigning, too. Unfortunately public service has its price, as well, demonstrated by the precursors to this treaty.

let me see you shake your tail-feathers

Science writer and teacher, Carl Zimmer, has a beautiful and provoking science video for TEDEducation (Technology, Entertainment, Design, perhaps best known for their annual conferences, brain-storming sessions and for their slogan of “ideas worth spreading,” which ponders how the evolution of feathers and flight might have evolved over the ages into the explosive variety and creativity we see in birds today.
 Nature is nothing if not resourceful and we are all witnesses to works-in-progress and not the finished-product, however it is still strange (no matter how the family resemblances surface) to re-think dinosaurs as something quirky and almost approachable, decorated with fuzz and fancy plumage like one of those off-breed prize hens or fashion pigeon, instead of something muscular and monstrous, like a Ray Harryhausen creation. It is sort of like being told all those marble sculptures of antiquity were no gleaming white and pristine as they are displayed (and copied) nowadays but rather all painted up in garish harlequin colours, with hair and eye-balls. A whole series of videos on different subjects can be found at the TEDEducation link.

neutralitat or bread and butter

Meanwhile back in Switzerland, as Reuters reports (bad link), the president of the federal council says that he would lend his support into an investigation into the claims of a CIA-leaker that his tour time spent in Geneva was formative. This is one man airing his opinion who happens to be the leader of an executive body of seven individuals representing the closest thing that the free world has to direct-democracy, stemming from checks and balances established in medieval times. Of course, he's entitled to it and the story, unverifiable, of the leaker given in recent interviews did seem a little imaginative and incredulous, but it did seem like something a bit weaselly to say, at first hearing: a concession to justice American-style brokered at a sensitive time when the US is intent on barn-storming Swiss banking regulations and hosting such a circus might make the States back off from their demands a bit.
With privacy sacred and enshrined, however, it does not seem like a thoughtless comment meant to sacrifice or discredit anyone. Credibility is impossible to speak to, especially considering how America's trumped up reasons for engaging Iraq was shot full of holes like Swiss cheese by a fax transmission intercepted by the Confederation (the Swiss read all of your faxes). Maybe it was a deliberate invitation for entrapment to reveal the real scope of America's surveillance programme or a way to help ensure that a nuisance is not simply disappeared or sacrificed to maintain the status quo. I honestly feel more than a bit dissuaded from looking into this case, for fear it's already on my permanent record, and maybe a summons is what we all need to stand up to bullies, since after all, the actions—though only confirmed after a long career—of the CIA and NSA are not treaties to surpass local law but have yet negated Switzerland's (and those of everyone else) attitudes and protections for privacy touching all matters.

sunday drive: by jove

In an on-going effort to try to discover more my surround neighbour- hoods, I took the chance one afternoon to explore the suburban borough of Schierstein, bordering the Rhein and just southwest of Wiesbaden-proper. I had passed through this part of town a few times and frequented an old stand-by flea-market in the industrial area but was happy to have the opportunity to explore further, owing to a disappointing search of the market.
Passing through previously, I usually rounded a corner that held a representation of the town's crest, a blue and gold globus cruciger—that is, a crossed sphere of royal regalia, the orb, sceptre and crown. I am uncertain why the town adopted this symbol but found it interesting that the iconography was known already in Roman times and may have been introduced by the place's early occupants. An intact Column of Jupiter from the year 221 BC, depicting the Roman ruler of the gods riding a ship's figurehead, hood ornament-like rendering of the Germanic god Wotan, Jupiter's local equivalent (possibly meant to be an insult to the native Teutons and an assertion of supremacy of the Empire) was unearthed in the mid nineteenth century in the same spot on the town's harbour, a dock for a lot of leisure boats and home to Wiesbaden's yachting club.

This is a faithful reproduction and the unique original is in a museum, and such columns were the ancient equivalent of modern day garden gnomes (or perhaps in this case, a lawn jockey), which Germans are pretty fond of too. The town also had some architectural gems, like this Rococo church from the sixteenth century, dedicated to Saint Christophorus (Christopher), who of course, considering himself oafish doubted that he could ever do anything good or helpful, became the patron of travellers, since owing to his size and strength could handily ferry people across the river—surely the River Rhine as well.

The town's rooftops and with the help of the care of its human residences have also been transformed into a sanctuary for storks.  This suburb enjoys one of the highest populations in Germany and signals that such recuperation and healing campaigns can be wildly successful, with couples returning to the same roost to build their nests and rear their young year after year.