eye in the sky

Via the always marvellous Nag on the Lake, we are treated to a carefully juried selection of the best photographs taken by aerial drone pilots from cameras aloft. These superlative examples of the genre, like this best in category Nature of lavender harvesting in Provence were solicited and curated by a specialty photography that really appreciates fresh and unexpected perspectives site called dronestagr.am, previously featured here.

leerdammer, limburger

BBC Culture treats us to a tour of an exhibition hosted in the galleries of the Maurithuis of the Hague—the kingly cabinet known for curating the collection of Old Dutch Masters, which not only extols the aesthetic appeal of cheese as a subject for still life paintings but also for its inspirational virtues through the ages. There are dozens of examples mentioned worthy of further exploration but one of the more resonant ones was how a particularly ingratiating morsel of Camembert (and not Einstein’s contemporary writings on time dilation and relativity as some have suggested) that drove Salvador Dalí to create his iconic melting clocks in Persistence of Memory.

modern day presidential

The press must take a stand against the relentless, juvenile bullying of Dear Leader—what’s potentially at stake highlighted by his recent publicity stunts with fellow dictators who are known for repressing independent reporting including the Polish leadership who were gracious enough to bus in supporters to cheer him on.
Some are suggesting, however, that one outlet that’s been the brunt of his abuse may be legitimately traumatised, a psychological alliance as a survival strategy like those suffering from Stockholm syndrome . Whilst it is questionable whether the original contributor of the offending post would have taken the moral high-ground and pledged to amend his ways if not tracked down and confronted by the news network, they seemed to reach a bit too far with what some interpret to be an implied threat of blackmail or bullying by reserving “the right to publish his identity should” he not uphold any of those pledges to reform. It’s not helping matters for the media to stoop to Dear Leader’s level and only reinforces his narrative of the Lüggenpresse for those already so persuaded, and the response—which includes outing the identities of the reporting team and harassing their families, has been massively disproportionate. No journalist is advocating for Dear Leader’s mode of character assassination but his vocal minority have found a point of contention to latch onto. Words having consequence and expression, while free, is defensible only through responsibility are lessons that cannot be repeated too often if political discourse is to ever become something meaningful again.

afternoon drive: saint goar

In honour of the patron saint of vine-growers, potters and innkeepers—the hermit and (another) reluctant clergyman Goar of Aquitaine, I took a drive just around the corner to the Rhine Gorge to again explore namesake village, Sankt Goar am Rhein. Charlemagne ordered the construction of church at the site of the cave where Goar dwelt (the hermitage) during Frankish times and a settlement grew up around it. The sister-city on the opposite shore of the Rhein, Sankt Goarhausen, is also named for the saint.  The present church on the site is in the Gothic Revival style and was completed in 1891 but still incorporating ancient elements. Although given permission to preach to the locals and pursue the uncomplicated life of a hospitable recluse, his reputation as a charismatic and wonder-worker kept the bishopric of Trier interested in retaining his talents. Not wanting to have the responsibilities and pressures of being a bishop, Goar prayed to be excused from the commitment and succumbed the next day to a sudden and violent fever that relieved him of his mortal coil. The old town was quite impressive and steeped in history and the monumental ruins of Burg Rheinfels that dominates the village looked incredible and will certainly bear out further investigations and new vistas.  I am very happy that I made my little pilgrimage but was a bit disappointed that the throngs of tourists were oblivious to the holiday and the doors of the church were not even open.  I felt privileged, like the day and its commemoration was my secret with the saint.

showbread

Our thanks to Super Punch for investigating past the headlines into the US Department of Justice suit against an American craft and hobby outlet’s founder for the illicit importation of ancient Middle Eastern artefacts.

Rather infamous already for refusing to comply with provisions of the Affordable Care Act and withheld compensation for the covered medical expense of contraception for its employees on religious objections, the family that owns the chain of stores massed a purloined collection of some five thousand scrolls, tablets (not pictured) and other relics smuggled out of the region by dealers under the guise of business samples. Plunder doesn’t necessarily need a further explanation but it turns out the motivation lie in a DIY project that the family was backing in Washington, DC: the Museum of the Bible is slated to open in November of this year, just off the National Mall and across the street from the US Department of Education. The privately-funded museum will display Biblical antiquities, showcasing the family’s sizable and questionable collection, and feature a research centre and an immersive augmented reality experience. Such passions and eccentricities are fine provided that no one’s hurt in the process, but given that the Cosplay Caliphate is receives its financial support through the sales of looted artefacts from Iraq and Syria, we’re too late for that already. The acquisition of the heritage and treasure of another culture by museums is always a subject fraught with controversy and begs questions of repatriation and cultural appropriation but touring galleries that reflects recent practices in pilfering and contributes to slaughter and strife and the undermining of regional stability seems perverse and wholly inappropriate.

intrusive r

Recently I learnt that the phonological phenomenon that I tend to partake of—inserting some errant phoneme into a word, both in English and in German, of course has a name: epenthesis (Epenthese).
The subtle p sound that’s rather unavoidable in hampster, somepthing or warmpth is one example called excrescence when a consonant is stuck in there, but the most common form in the received regionalism comes in the form of adding a rhotic sound—as in idear, warsh or what I’ve been called out for, Chicargo. There can also be something called a linking-r as in drawering or as in “I saw-r a film today—oh boy!” Four-thousand holes in Blackburn, Lancashire—or one twenty-sixth of a pothole per person, which through some formula (or not) yields the seating capacity of the Royal Albert Hall.