kobe hyakkei

Rummaging through the archives of Present /&/ Correct, we discover latter day reprisal of One Hundred Scenes of Kobe (Kobe Hyakkei, 百景 digging how there is a concise way of saying one hundred views of something) by woodblock print artist Hide Kawanishi.  His first edition depicted his native city as it appeared between 1933 and 1936, and later in the early 1950s Kawanishi produced a second collection, reflecting on post-war Japan.
The municipal website hosting Kawanishi’s renderings and accompanying essays (also available in English) on each location also matches each artistic impression with a photograph of the site, viewed from the same vantage point.

top priority

Despite having yet to formulate a clear and comprehensive divorce settlement from the European Union with crucial deadlines approaching, law-makers in the UK have devised a somewhat elegant solution to another crisis of their own making: namely, to prevent underage people from accessing on-line pornography, as Gizmodo reports, by enlisting kiosks and corner shops to sell passes for £10 (cheaper than identity-theft but still a strange, arbitrary sort of surcharge) with a sixteen digit code that will allow the bearer to access adult websites.
The newsstand agent (previously), purveyors of all sorts of vices, will verify that the purchaser is of majority age and is a filthy, raunchy deviant. While this method seems far preferable to having the government maintain a database on all of its porn-lookers (primed to fall into the hands of extortionists and opportunists) or demanding credit card information as a means of authentication with the exchange being essentially anonymous, it is still the lesser of two evils to implement and enforce a rather needless, ridiculous and unenforceable response to the latest moral panic.

deaccessioned

Via Hyperallergic, we learn that the Victoria and Albert Museum recently published the sole known complete copy of the catalogue inventorying of the works of art and the artists considered degenerate (entartete) by the Nazi regime’s Ministry for Public Enlightenment and Propaganda, which meticulously catalogued of sixteen thousand works in 1942 as a final record after the sale and disposals of the confiscated works.
There’s no comprehensive gallery of the pieces, many of which leave no trace afterwards (and many others that were thought lost to history until the trove of paintings was found in a Munich apartment of the son of one of the curators whose name pops up again and again), but with a little triangulation and desire to further the story of these ostracised objects and their blacklisted creators, like the author, one can access a Berlin reference library’s database and enter the catalogue numbers to retrieve a record. You should research and champion one of these once rejected pieces of art yourself, like this 1912 woodcut by Franz Marc (EN/DE) of Springing Horses, Entartete Kunst (EK) number 1847. A founding member of the German Expressionism movement and contributor to the influential art journal Der Blaue Reiter (The Blue Knight) at the turn of the century, the iconic artist died in the Battle of Verdun in 1916 at age thirty-six but having already produced a body of nearly a thousand prints. A 1936 exhibition marking twenty years since the artist’s passing attracted negative attention and were declared subversive with the Gestapo seizing works from public and private collections around Germany and selling them to buyers abroad.

saor ó dhleacht

Having passed through the gates of Shannon Airport ourselves a few times, we found it quite fascinating to learn that the terminal in western Ireland on the river’s estuary was home to the world’s first duty free shop and will be sure to make special notice of it next time around.  Planet Money fills us in on the life and times of consummate hospitality professional and marketing expert Brendan O’Regan (1917* - 2008 †) whose talents intersected with the limitations of early trans-Atlantic air travel and recognised a business opportunity.
After realising the popularity of Irish Coffee (his first contribution to the world), O’Regan catered to regular arrivals of weary, battered travellers whom had just made the rather arduous hop from North America to Europe and had to land at the first opportunity or were outbound for the same daunting journey, since early planes lacked modern amenities and range and had to make landfall at the first and last opportunity for re-fuelling—which Ireland geographically availed herself of—and saw that his rather captive consumers, elite jet-setters to a person, whose money was burning holes in their pockets, and O’Regan wanted to alleviate their boredom on this layover leg of their trip. Referencing an ancient custom still codified in the law books of allowing sailors to purchase booze without taxes if it was for export and personal consumption, O’Regan successfully pled his case to the Irish government in 1947 to allow him to experiment with an exercise that undercut the government itself by not collecting taxes and losing out on revenue with the promise that by showcasing local items, keepsakes and souvenirs including speciality Irish whiskeys—and manufacturing provenance after a fashion—at a discount, the scheme would encourage local tourism and more than make up for lost revenue on the trinkets.

The model was an instant success and proliferated quickly to airports worldwide—then cruise ships, border-crossings, etc. with some products, like Toblerone (previously) owing its cosmopolitan success to careful product-placement in duty-free stores. O’Regan’s third act was as peace ambassador, helping to end the strife in Northern Ireland and promoting cooperation between Ireland and the UK.

lieber wütend als traurig

Dangerous Minds features the unaired made-for-television screenplay by Ulrike Meinhof that went into production in February of 1970, just before the journalist turned towards a campaign of terror.
Incorporating previous research and reporting assignments on the state of child- and adolescent aid organisations and juvenile detention and custody homes, borstals (Jugend-fürsorge means care for youth but to have “Sorge für” is to agonise about something) in West Germany, Bambule (referring to prisoners rioting behind bars by banging and drumming any items at hand that will make a loud noise—but in French, bamboula has become a kind of slur and shouldn’t be used) was fictionalised account of troubled, institutionalised teens and was filmed in its entirety but never broadcast due to prison-break of Rote Armee Faktion (previously) leader Andreas Baader from facilities in West Berlin on 14 May of that year. Having covered Baader’s protests against the Vietnam War in Frankfurt prior to his incarceration, Meinhof had previously met the charismatic figure’s acquaintance and was convinced to take part in his escape by advocating for his transfer to lower-security research centre under the guise of collaborating on an ethnographic work on the psyche of protest. When the planned peaceful operation turned violent (there were supposed to be no guns) and a by-stander was shot and injured, Meinhof decided to join with Baader and both became fugitives. Read more about Meinhof and the movement as well as watch an English subtitled version of Bambule at the link up top.

sock caramel

Super Punch redirects our attention to our old companion and ongoing experiment (previously here and there and everywhere) in neural network learning with the challenge this time to name flavours of ice cream. While the host’s training yielded rather dark and dubious results to include:

Strawberry Cream Disease
Sock Caramel
Chocolate Raven
Colon Bane

Some inspired middle school pupils learning coding were able to far exceed their programming with:

Cherry Poet
Bubble Bun
Vanilla Nettle

The latter selection seemed more like a treat though Toffee Frog and Funge Ecide also came up in the students’ algorithms.

eisheilige oder in like a lion, out like a lamb

This day marks the last in the triplet of saints’ days, commemorating early martyrs and bishops of the fourth and fifth centuries, traditionally part of weather lore throughout much of central and northern Europe known collectively as the time of the ice saints, when Spring had begun in earnest but there was yet the danger of a cold snap.
Though there’s some variance according to one’s whereabouts, the consensus seems to give the title to Boniface (Saint Mamertus in Nordic countries), Pancras and Servatius whose feast days fall on the 11th, 12th and 13th. Respectively patrons of bachelors and converts, service-sector jobs and health, rheumatism and foot problems, this cadre seem to have little to do weather prognostication, like groundhogs (Candlemas) or the Seven Sleepers (used to forecast summer weather) and their dates were all shifted a bit to the left when the Gregorian calendar replaced the Julian way of reckoning dates and we all lost ten days but there is certainly the chance for strange, destructive weather this late in the season—especially for the micro-climates that cleave to the valleys and foothills, which asserted itself just the day before yesterday by dumping a frightening large amount of hail on a village just a few kilometres away and causing storm surges in Hamburg.

7x7

and in flew enza: an encyclopaedic investigation into the estimated six-hundred-fifty thousand US deaths—out of fifty million globally—of the 1918 Spanish Flu pandemic, via Kottke’s Quick Links

deconstructivist tendencies: postmodern architectural wonders of the 1970s and 1980s added to the UK’s National Heritage List—according them protected status, via Things Magazine

one year times two: the musical art installations of Trond Nicholas Perry, via ibidem

sundries for the modern workspace: contemplating the function of colour in defining manufacture, learning and healing in 1930s schematics, via Nag on the Lake

let’s try to get our core business right before trying something else: Facebook exploring minting its own cryptocurrency

pneumonic spelunking: a look at Elon Musk’s boring project beneath Los Angeles

dies irae, dies illa: a trio of (possibly not ordained) Catholic priests form a hard rock band in 1974 to broaden their missionary work