Stream All of Tom Waits’ Music in a 24 Hour Playlist: The Complete Discography

Some singers are born with the voic­es of angels, some with voic­es like bags of grav­el. Both, I’d say, are blessed in their own way. Take the haunt­ing, unfor­get­table Blind Willie John­son, the weirdo genius Cap­tain Beef­heart, and, of course, the inim­itable Tom Waits, whose mer­cu­r­ial per­sona has expressed itself as a down-and-out lounge singer, junkshop blues­man, Tin Pan Alley racon­teur, Broad­way show­man, and more. Each iter­a­tion seems to get grit­ti­er than the last as age weath­ers Waits’ sand­pa­per voice to a rougher and rougher cut.

Waits first emerged in 1973 with Clos­ing Time, an album Rolling Stone’s Stephen Hold­en described as “all-pur­pose lounge music… a style that evokes an aura of crushed cig­a­rettes in seedy bars and Sina­tra singing ‘One for My Baby.’” Though Waits is “more than a chip off the Randy New­man block,” Hold­en wrote, “he sounds like a boozi­er, earth­i­er ver­sion of the same.” The descrip­tion might cause some fans of Waits who dis­cov­ered him ten years lat­er with Sword­fishtrom­bones to fur­row their brows. Sure, we may always hear some Sina­tra in his song­writ­ing or deliv­ery, but a Randy New­man-like lounge singer? A lit­tle hard to fea­ture…. As Noel Mur­ray notes at The Onion’s A.V. Club, “Sword­fishtrom­bones has sound­ed more and more like a base­line for ‘nor­mal’” in Waits’ oeu­vre.

Although he has always drawn lib­er­al­ly from music of the past, in the 80s and 90s, he reached fur­ther back in time for his influ­ences and instrumentation—into the back cor­ners of ear­ly 20th-cen­tu­ry out­sider gospel and wash­tub blues, 19th-cen­tu­ry sea shanties and mur­der bal­lads. For all his avant-garde bona fides—including his many col­lab­o­ra­tions with exper­i­men­tal gui­tarist Marc Ribot—few con­tem­po­rary artists as Waits best exem­pli­fy the “old, weird Amer­i­ca” Luc Sante describes as the “play­ground of God, Satan, trick­sters, Puri­tans, con­fi­dence men, illu­mi­nati, brag­garts, preach­ers, anony­mous poets of all stripes.” Each of these at one time or anoth­er is a char­ac­ter Waits has played in song.

Waits’ old, weird Amer­i­cana is wild­ly askew even for gen­res that prize the off-kil­ter. He went from mak­ing records that sound like Hollywood’s seed­i­est cor­ners to records that sound like drunk march­ing bands in machine shops. By 2004’s Real Gone, his voice mod­u­lat­ed into a ter­ri­fy­ing bark that com­mands atten­tion and respect, yet still com­mu­ni­cates with all the emo­tive pow­er of the most angel­ic sopra­no.

You can hear Waits’ tran­si­tion from iron­ic lovelorn croon­er to demon­ic car­ni­val barker—and a few dozen more old, weird Amer­i­can characters—in the 24-hour, 380-track Spo­ti­fy playlist just above. It cov­ers Waits’ entire career, from that first, 1973 album, Clos­ing Time, and its fol­low-ups The Heart of Sat­ur­day Night and Nighthawks at the Din­er, to Rain Dogs, Bone Machine, Blood Mon­ey, and his last stu­dio album, Bad as Me, “a fun reminder,” Mur­ray writes, “of Waits’ abil­i­ty to be a badass when nec­es­sary.” I’d say, if you’ve heard Waits’ deep, grav­el­ly growl at any stage of his career, you’d hard­ly need remind­ing.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Tom Waits Makes a List of His Top 20 Favorite Albums of All Time

Tom Waits For No One: Watch the Pio­neer­ing Ani­mat­ed Tom Waits Music Video from 1979

Tom Waits Sings and Tells Sto­ries in Tom Waits: A Day in Vien­na, a 1979 Aus­tri­an Film

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) Presents a Free Online Class on Fashion: Enroll in Fashion as Design Today

Fash­ion as Design, a free online course by the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art (MoMA), begin­ning this com­ing week , may not equip you with the skills to bring a fab­u­lous gar­ment to fruition, but it will help you under­stand the con­text behind clothes both worka­day and wild.

Led by Depart­ment of Archi­tec­ture and Design Senior Cura­tor Pao­la Antonel­li, Cura­to­r­i­al Assis­tant Michelle Mil­lar Fish­er, and Research Assis­tant Stephanie Kramer—whose respec­tive fash­ion heroes are actor Cate Blanchett, design­er Claire McAr­dle, and activist Glo­ria Steinem—the course will con­sid­er the his­to­ry and impact of 70+ indi­vid­ual gar­ments.

The pieces can be exam­ined in per­son through the end of Jan­u­ary as part of MoMA’s Items: Is Fash­ion Mod­ern? exhi­bi­tion.

Some of the duds on the syl­labus ben­e­fit­ed from a celebri­ty boost, such as Bruce Lee’s icon­ic red track suit, recre­at­ed with its prop­er ear­ly 70’s cut, below.

Oth­ers, just as icon­ic, can be bought with­out fan­fare in a drug­store or supermarket—witness the plain white t‑shirt, intro­duced to MoMA’s col­lec­tion when Antonel­li was curat­ing 2004’s Hum­ble Mas­ter­pieces: Every­day Mar­vels of Design.

Stu­dents with no par­tic­u­lar inter­est in fash­ion may be intrigued to con­sid­er the threads on their backs through such lens­es as mar­ket­ing, dis­tri­b­u­tion, pol­i­tics, iden­ti­ty, and eco­nom­ics.

Stu­dents will also delve into the life­cy­cle of cloth­ing, fash­ion-relat­ed labor prac­tices, and sus­tain­abil­i­ty. The more con­sumers under­stand this side of the biz, the like­li­er it is that the fash­ion indus­try will be pushed toward adopt­ing more eth­i­cal prac­tices.

Enroll in the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art’s free Fash­ion as Design course here or stick a toe in with the com­pan­ion exhi­bi­tion’s Youtube playlist or the teach­ers’ delight­ful­ly can­did first-per­son com­men­tary in Sur­face Magazine’s behind-the-scenes cov­er­age:

The Hood­ie

The hood­ie is one of those items that has had a long and mul­ti­fac­eted life, and one that’s become so polit­i­cal­ly charged. But this sweater, with the hood and the string, with or with­out the zip­per, is from the 1930s, from a com­pa­ny that was called Knicker­bock­er Knit­ting Com­pa­ny, before it became Cham­pi­on. Ini­tial­ly the hood­ie was made for ath­letes, to keep them warm before or after train­ing. It was imme­di­ate­ly co-opt­ed by con­struc­tion and cold-stor­age work­ers. Then in the 1970s and ’80s it became city-dwelling kids’ gar­ment of choice when skate­board­ing ille­gal­ly or writ­ing graf­fi­ti or break­danc­ing. There’s an aspect of the hood­ie that’s become a kind of qui­et defi­ance of the system—of want­i­ng to be in the mid­dle of it but some­how away from it. The hood­ie gives you a false impres­sion of being invis­i­ble. All these dif­fer­ent his­to­ries bring us to today. The Trayvon Mar­tin and George Zim­mer­man inci­dent a few years ago trans­formed the hood­ie into this sym­bol of injus­tice. We’re going to have this red Cham­pi­on hood­ie from the 1980s—when it’s at the moment of tran­si­tion. But it’s going to be there by itself and we’re hop­ing it’s going to be real­ly res­o­nant. It shows the pow­er that cer­tain gar­ments have to become sym­bols for polit­i­cal strug­gle. —Pao­la Antonel­li

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Google Cre­ates a Dig­i­tal Archive of World Fash­ion: Fea­tures 30,000 Images, Cov­er­ing 3,000 Years of Fash­ion His­to­ry

1930s Fash­ion Design­ers Pre­dict How Peo­ple Would Dress in the Year 2000

Every Exhi­bi­tion Held at the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art (MoMA) Pre­sent­ed in a New Web Site: 1929 to Present

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Hear The Cinnamon Bear, the Classic Holiday Radio Series That Has Aired Between Thanksgiving and Christmas for 80 Years

Eighty years ago, just after Thanks­giv­ing, chil­dren across Amer­i­ca turned on their radios and heard a cou­ple of voic­es very much like their own: those of Judy and Jim­my Bar­ton, a sis­ter and broth­er eager­ly com­pos­ing their wish lists to send off to San­ta Claus. Judy asks for a veloci­pede, seem­ing­ly a hot item in 1937 but not even a rec­og­niz­able word to most of the chil­dren who’ve lis­tened to the broad­cast in hol­i­day sea­sons since. Despite the occa­sion­al such archaism, The Cin­na­mon Bear, the series in which Judy and Jim­my star, con­tin­ues to enchant not just gen­er­a­tion after gen­er­a­tion of kids, but also those grown-ups among us who savor the oppor­tu­ni­ties this time of year affords to more ful­ly appre­ci­ate time­less child­hood plea­sures.

The Cin­na­mon Bear fol­lows the adven­tures of Judy and Jim­my as they search for the lost sil­ver star that tops their Christ­mas tree. They first check the attic, there encoun­ter­ing the title ani­mal: Pad­dy O’Cin­na­mon, an Irish-accent­ed ted­dy bear with a ten­den­cy to great­ly over­es­ti­mate his own fear­some­ness but an inde­fati­ga­ble spir­it of ser­vice as well. He even helps the Bar­ton chil­dren “de-grow” to minia­ture size in order to take the hunt to his home of May­be­land, a hid­den fan­ta­sy realm inhab­it­ed by such eccentrics, harm­less and oth­er­wise, as the Crazy Quilt Drag­on, the Roly-Poly Police­man, the Win­ter­green Witch, Oliv­er Ostrich (pre­pared with a musi­cal num­ber about his love of scram­bled alarm clocks and bacon), a fly­ing hat, and even San­ta Claus him­self.

But Pad­dy O’Cin­na­mon and the kids don’t meet jol­ly old Saint Nick until the prop­er time: Christ­mas day, on which the orig­i­nal broad­cast of The Cin­na­mon Bear con­clud­ed. The first fif­teen-minute episode aired on Novem­ber 26, 1937, with the sto­ry con­tin­u­ing six days a week until the big hol­i­day. Pro­duced in Hol­ly­wood by radio syn­di­ca­tor Transco and writ­ten, songs and all, by the hus­band-wife team of Glanville and Eliz­a­beth Heisch, it ini­tial­ly found local spon­sor­ship across the coun­try from depart­ment stores, some of whom paid for many years of repeat broad­casts and even put up Cin­na­mon Bear-themed dis­plays and events along with their San­ta Claus­es. (The now long-defunct Lip­man’s of Port­land, Ore­gon got into it in a big way, estab­lish­ing the show as some­thing of a tra­di­tion in the city, where Cin­na­mon Bear Christ­mas riv­er cruis­es run to this day.)

With Christ­mas over, the chil­dren of 1937 had no choice but to wait almost an entire year before they could hear The Cin­na­mon Bear again. Grow­ing up myself about half a cen­tu­ry lat­er, I had the show as a box set of cas­sette tapes to which I binged-lis­tened on a few dif­fer­ent hol­i­day sea­sons. But now, with seem­ing­ly the entire gold­en age of radio freely avail­able on the inter­net, kids and any­one else besides can lis­ten how­ev­er and when­ev­er they like. You’ll find all 26 episodes of The Cin­na­mon Bear on the Inter­net Archive, as a Youtube playlist, and even as a pod­cast on iTunes. (You can stream them all above.) This year, on the 80th anniver­sary of the orig­i­nal broad­cast, why not “air” it for you and yours as those first lis­ten­ers heard it, once an evening except Sat­ur­days, until Decem­ber 25th? Though each episode may be in doubt as to whether Judy and Jim­my will ever recov­er the sil­ver star, it’s no spoil­er to say that, with the assis­tance of Pad­dy O’Cinnamon, they do find their way to a mem­o­rable Christ­mas indeed.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Christ­mas Car­ol, A Vin­tage Radio Broad­cast by Orson Welles and Lionel Bar­ry­more (1939)

Hear “Twas The Night Before Christ­mas” Read by Stephen Fry & John Cleese

Dr. Seuss’ “How the Grinch Stole Christ­mas” Read by Date­line’s Kei­th Mor­ri­son

Wal­ter Benjamin’s Radio Plays for Kids (1929–1932)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

What Happens When a Jazz Musician Accidentally Texts His Wife with Voice Recognition…While Playing the Trombone


A cou­ple of days ago, Paul Now­ell (aka Paul the Trom­bon­ist) sent out this sim­ple tweet, show­ing what hap­pened when his iPhone’s voice recog­ni­tion sys­tem hap­pened to cap­ture his trom­bone ses­sion and turned it into words. The tweet went viral. And now, 65,000 “Retweets” and 198,000 “Likes” lat­er, you can see how the orig­i­nal record­ing ses­sion went down. Enjoy the demo below:


If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via Metafil­ter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Miles Davis Dish­es Dirt on His Fel­low Jazz Musi­cians: “The Trom­bone Play­er Should be Shot”; That Ornette is “F‑ing Up the Trum­pet”

Farmer Ser­e­nades Cows by Play­ing Lorde’s “Roy­als” on the Trom­bone

Direc­tor Michel Gondry Makes a Charm­ing Film on His iPhone, Prov­ing That We Could Be Mak­ing Movies, Not Tak­ing Self­ies

Watch At the Museum, MoMA’s 8‑Part Documentary on What it Takes to Run a World-Class Museum

If you’ve ever vis­it­ed the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art — and prob­a­bly even if you haven’t — you’ll have a sense that the place does­n’t exact­ly run itself. As much or even more so than oth­er muse­ums, MoMA keeps the behind-the-scenes oper­a­tions behind the scenes, pre­sent­ing vis­i­tors with coher­ent art expe­ri­ences that seem to have mate­ri­al­ized whole. But that very puri­ty of pre­sen­ta­tion itself stokes our curios­i­ty: No, real­ly, how do they do it? Now, MoMA has offered us a chance to see for our­selves through a new series of short doc­u­men­taries called At the Muse­um, a look at and a lis­ten to the nuts and bolts of one of Amer­i­ca’s most­ly high­ly regard­ed art insti­tu­tions.

The series, which will run to eight episodes total, has released four thus far. In “Ship­ping & Receiv­ing,” some of the muse­um’s staff pre­pare 200 works of art in its col­lec­tion to ship to Paris for a spe­cial exhi­bi­tion at the Louis Vuit­ton Foun­da­tion while oth­ers get new shows installed at MoMA itself.

In “The Mak­ing of Max Ernst,” a cou­ple of cura­tors design a show of work by that sur­re­al­ist painter-sculp­tor-poet. In “Press­ing Mat­ters,” the open­ing of both the Ernst exhi­bi­tion, “Beyond Paint­ing,” and “Louise Bour­geois: An Unfold­ing Por­trait” fast approach, but sev­er­al impor­tant deci­sions remain to be made as well as works to be installed. In “Art Speaks,” MoMA staff and vis­i­tors take a step back and con­tem­plate the pur­pose of mod­ern art itself.

At the Muse­um could have assumed a high­ly tra­di­tion­al form, stop­ping method­i­cal­ly to wit­ness the dai­ly labors of every­one from MoMA’s direc­tors to cura­tors to installers to secu­ri­ty guards as nar­ra­tion earnest­ly explains to us their place in the art ecosys­tem. From the very first episode, how­ev­er, the series takes a dif­fer­ent and much more com­pelling tack, pro­vid­ing an uncom­ment­ed-upon series of fly-on-the-wall views of MoMA peo­ple at work, eaves­drop­ping on their con­ver­sa­tions, and occa­sion­al­ly weav­ing in their reflec­tions spo­ken direct­ly to the film­mak­ers. But just as the expe­ri­ence of MoMA changes with each new exhi­bi­tion, so does the form of At the Muse­um with each new episode, one of which will con­tin­ue appear­ing every Fri­day until Decem­ber 15th. Watch them all (here), and you’ll nev­er look at MoMA, or indeed any oth­er muse­um, in quite the same way.

At the Muse­um will be added to our col­lec­tion of Free Doc­u­men­taries, a sub­set of our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Browse Every Art Exhi­bi­tion Held at MoMA Since 1929 with the New “MoMA Exhi­bi­tion Spe­lunk­er”

The Muse­um of Mod­ern Art (MoMA) Puts Online 75,000 Works of Mod­ern Art

The Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art Puts 400,000 High-Res Images Online & Makes Them Free to Use

Kids Record Audio Tours of NY’s Muse­um of Mod­ern Art (with Some Sil­ly Results)

Muse­um of Mod­ern Art (MoMA) Launch­es Free Course on Look­ing at Pho­tographs as Art

Free: The Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art and the Guggen­heim Offer 474 Free Art Books Online

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Watch the Illustrated Version of “Alice’s Restaurant,” Arlo Guthrie’s Thanksgiving Counterculture Classic

Alice’s Restau­rant. It’s now a Thanks­giv­ing clas­sic, and some­thing of a tra­di­tion around here. Record­ed in 1967, the 18+ minute coun­ter­cul­ture song recounts Arlo Guthrie’s real encounter with the law, start­ing on Thanks­giv­ing Day 1965. As the long song unfolds, we hear all about how a hip­pie-bat­ing police offi­cer, by the name of William “Obie” Oban­hein, arrest­ed Arlo for lit­ter­ing. (Cul­tur­al foot­note: Obie pre­vi­ous­ly posed for sev­er­al Nor­man Rock­well paint­ings, includ­ing the well-known paint­ing, “The Run­away,” that graced a 1958 cov­er of The Sat­ur­day Evening Post.) In fair­ly short order, Arlo pleads guilty to a mis­de­meanor charge, pays a $25 fine, and cleans up the thrash. But the sto­ry isn’t over. Not by a long shot. Lat­er, when Arlo (son of Woody Guthrie) gets called up for the draft, the pet­ty crime iron­i­cal­ly becomes a basis for dis­qual­i­fy­ing him from mil­i­tary ser­vice in the Viet­nam War. Guthrie recounts this with some bit­ter­ness as the song builds into a satir­i­cal protest against the war: “I’m sit­tin’ here on the Group W bench ’cause you want to know if I’m moral enough to join the Army, burn women, kids, hous­es and vil­lages after bein’ a lit­ter­bug.” And then we’re back to the cheery cho­rus again: “You can get any­thing you want, at Alice’s Restau­rant.”

We have fea­tured Guthrie’s clas­sic dur­ing past years. But, for this Thanks­giv­ing, we give you the illus­trat­ed ver­sion. Hap­py Thanks­giv­ing to every­one who plans to cel­e­brate the hol­i­day today.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bob Dylan’s Thanks­giv­ing Radio Show: A Playlist of 18 Delec­table Songs

William S. Bur­roughs Reads His Sar­cas­tic “Thanks­giv­ing Prayer” in a 1988 Film By Gus Van Sant

Mar­i­lyn Monroe’s Hand­writ­ten Turkey-and-Stuff­ing Recipe

William Shat­ner Raps About How to Not Kill Your­self Deep Fry­ing a Turkey

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 13 Tips for What to Do with Your Left­over Thanks­giv­ing Turkey

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Watch Classical Music Get Perfectly Visualized as an Emotional Roller Coaster Ride

When the Zurich Cham­ber Orches­tra aka the Zürcher Kam­merorch­ester want­ed to pro­mote its new sea­son in 2012 it com­mis­sioned stu­dio Vir­tu­al Repub­lic to think about lis­ten­ing to a sym­pho­ny as a ride, or more exact­ly an emo­tion­al roller­coast­er. And it returned with this brief inter­pre­ta­tion of the first vio­lin score for the fourth move­ment of Fer­di­nand Ries’ Sec­ond Sym­pho­ny.

It might not be as easy to fol­low as the Music Ani­ma­tion Machine we post­ed about last week, but the build­ing crescen­do of the violin’s line makes for a love­ly ascent, but once over the peak, the furi­ous drop is all ver­tig­i­nous runs until its sud­den stop.

Or as Vir­tu­al Repub­lic described their own work:

The notes and bars were exact­ly syn­chro­nized with the pro­gres­sion in the ani­ma­tion so that the typ­i­cal move­ments of a roller­coast­er ride match the dra­mat­ic com­po­si­tion of the music.

The pro­duc­tion company’s Vimeo page shows a lot of domes­tic prod­uct com­mer­cial CGI work, from dish­wash­ers to paint, so the chance to jump on some­thing a bit more artis­tic must have been a relief.

Watch a Mak­ing-of video below…

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Clas­si­cal Music Come to Life in Art­ful­ly Ani­mat­ed Scores: Stravin­sky, Debussy, Bach, Beethoven, Mozart & More

Watch “Geom­e­try of Cir­cles,” the Abstract Sesame Street Ani­ma­tion Scored by Philip Glass (1979)

Philo­graph­ics Presents a Visu­al Dic­tio­nary of Phi­los­o­phy: 95 Philo­soph­i­cal Con­cepts as Graph­ic Designs

Net Neutrality Explained and Defended in a Doodle-Filled Video by Vi Hart: The Time to Save the Open Web is Now

By the end of Decem­ber, net neu­tral­i­ty may be a thing of the past. We’ll pay the price. You’ll pay the price. Com­cast, Ver­i­zon and AT&T will make out like ban­dits.

If you need a quick reminder of what net neu­tral­i­ty is, what ben­e­fits it brings and what you stand to lose, watch Vi Hart’s 11-minute explain­er above. It lays things out quite well. Then, once you have a han­dle on things, write or call Con­gress now and make a last stand for the open web.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

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Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.