Steve Martin Writes a Hymn for Hymn-Deprived Atheists

To under­stand the two sides of Steve Martin’s per­form­ing tal­ents, check out his one and only hit sin­gle, 1978’s King Tut. On the A‑side was the nov­el­ty funk hit about the Egypt­ian boy king. On the B‑side, two deep cuts that showed off Martin’s for­mi­da­ble Americana/banjo chops: the tra­di­tion­al “Sal­ly Good­in” (cir­ca 1860, but exist­ing on record­ings since 1922), and “Hoe­down at Alice’s” an orig­i­nal writ­ten for his then stand-up man­ag­er Bill McEuen’s wife.

It’s not what you’d expect from the “Wild and Crazy Guy,” but Martin’s ban­jo had always been a part of his act. He taught him­self at 15 years old, play­ing along very slow­ly to Earl Scrug­gs records. He told an inter­view­er:

The rea­son I played it on stage is because my act was so crazy I thought it’s prob­a­bly good to show the audi­ence I can do some­thing that looks hard, because this act looks like I’m just mak­ing it up. I real­ly was­n’t. I worked very hard on it.

Which is a long way of say­ing: When Mar­tin record­ed an album of ban­jo favorites in 2009, The Crow, won a Gram­my with­out rely­ing on a sin­gle joke, then enlist­ed the help of the North Car­olin­ian Steep Canyon Rangers to go on a tour, it should not have real­ly been a sur­prise.

When he teamed up next with The Steep Canyon Rangers and record­ed Rare Bird Alert in 2011, Mar­tin start­ed to com­bine com­e­dy and music once again, and with this above nov­el­ty song, he gets to indulge in the beau­ti­ful har­mo­ny singing that blue­grass groups like The Stan­ley Broth­ers, The Lou­vin Broth­ers, and the Osbourne Broth­ers made so pop­u­lar in the mid-cen­tu­ry. (There wasn’t just ban­jo pickin’ on those LPs, you know.) The above appear­ance on Let­ter­man is a great ren­di­tion of a con­cert favorite, “Athe­ists Don’t Have No Songs.”

So in this month of argu­ments over the Star­bucks hol­i­day cup, let Mr. Mar­tin and group add a pal­lia­tive to any hurt athe­ist feel­ings. You guys rock.

P.S. Mar­tin got a chance to play with his hero on the same late-night pro­gram.

Relat­ed Con­tent

Steve Mar­tin Teach­es His First Online Course on Com­e­dy

Steve Mar­tin & Robin Williams Riff on Math, Physics, Ein­stein & Picas­so in a Heady Com­e­dy Rou­tine (2002)

Steve Mar­tin on the Leg­endary Blue­grass Musi­cian Earl Scrug­gs

Steve Mar­tin Releas­es Blue­grass Album/Animated Video

A Blue­grass Ver­sion of Metallica’s Heavy Met­al Hit, “Enter Sand­man”

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the artist inter­view-based FunkZone Pod­cast. King Tut was the sec­ond 45 he ever bought as a kid. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

300 Kate Bush Impersonators Pay Tribute to Kate Bush’s Iconic “Wuthering Heights” Video

Heath­cliff, it’s me–Cathy.

(and 300 Kate Bush imper­son­ators…)

Let (us) in-a-your win­do-o-ow!

I will nev­er for­get my first hear­ing of singer-song­writer Kate Bush’s “ Wuther­ing Heights.” My col­lege boyfriend was a fan, but noth­ing he told me in advance pre­pared me for the shock­ing lunatic squeak of that voice.

Was that how Emi­ly Bron­të con­ceived of her oth­er­world­ly Goth­ic hero­ine, Cather­ine Earn­shaw?

Sure­ly no.

Had such an unholy screech issued from the lips of Mer­le Oberon in the 1939 film adap­ta­tion, Lawrence Olivi­er would have bolt­ed for the moors…

It’s an acquired taste, but a last­ing one. Bush’s debut sin­gle, writ­ten on a full moon night at the ten­der age of 18, has become a clas­sic in its own right.  (SPOILER: its life span has proved longer than Heath­cliff’s).

It’s weird, trag­ic, com­pelling… just like the nov­el that inspired it.

It’s also peren­ni­al­ly ripe for par­o­dy. Not just because of the voice. Two music videos Bush released seal that deal.

The UK ver­sion, above, fea­tures the sort of over-the-top the­atrics rarely dis­played out­side the pri­va­cy of bed­room mir­rors, as Bush pirou­ettes, cart­wheels, and emotes in a gauzy white frock.

(Some young teens of my acquain­tance nailed that one at sum­mer camp, with lit­tle more than white bed sheets and fif­teen min­utes of advance prepa­ra­tion.)

When it came time for the Amer­i­can release, below, Bush paint­ed her nails, rouged her lips, and took to the great out­doors in a bright red gown and tights, below.

Come­di­an Noel Field­ing camped his way through that ver­sion in 2011, rais­ing mon­ey for char­i­ty with a near­ly 30-year-old ref­er­ence.

But for sheer num­bers, noth­ing trumps the Sham­bush! stunt at the top of the page. In May, 2013, the self-pro­claimed “ludi­crous per­for­mance troupe” invit­ed all inter­est­ed Bush fans to join them in a Brighton park to recre­ate the famous video en masse. (Gowns and wigs were avail­able onsite.)

More than 300 par­tic­i­pants heed­ed the call, allow­ing Sham­bush! to achieve its goal of set­ting the world’s record for the most num­ber of peo­ple dressed as Kate Bush. (As one of the orga­niz­ers point­ed out, they would’ve set the world’s record even if it had only been the three of them.)

What a won­der­ful, ridicu­lous moment in music his­to­ry to be a part of!

For those inspired to recre­ate the mad­ness with their own crew, Sham­bush! breaks down (and names) some of the most icon­ic moves in an instruc­tion­al video, below.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

2009 Kate Bush Doc­u­men­tary Dubs Her “Queen of British Pop”

Ai Weiwei’s Par­o­dy of ‘Gang­nam Style’

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

Monty Python’s John Cleese Creates Ads for the American Philosophical Association

cleese philosophy psa

Cre­ative Com­mons image by Paul Box­ley

John Cleese, you say, a spokesman for the Amer­i­can Philo­soph­i­cal Asso­ci­a­tion? Why would such a seri­ous orga­ni­za­tion, whose stat­ed mis­sion is to fos­ter the “broad­er pres­ence of phi­los­o­phy in pub­lic life,” choose a British come­di­an famous for such char­ac­ters as the over­bear­ing Basil Fawl­ty and ridicu­lous Min­is­ter of Sil­ly Walks as one of their pub­lic faces?

They chose him, I imag­ine, because in his var­i­ous roles—as a one­time prep school teacher and stu­dent of law at Cam­bridge, as a com­e­dy writer and Mon­ty Python star, and as a post-Python come­di­an, author, pub­lic speak­er, and vis­it­ing pro­fes­sor at Cor­nell—Cleese has done more than his part to spread phi­los­o­phy in pub­lic life. Mon­ty Python, you’ll remem­ber, aired a num­ber of absurd phi­los­o­phy sketch­es, notable for being as smart as they are fun­ny.

Cleese has pre­sent­ed his per­son­al phi­los­o­phy of cre­ativ­i­ty at the World Cre­ativ­i­ty Forum; he’s explained a com­mon cog­ni­tive bias to which media per­son­al­i­ties and politi­cians seem par­tic­u­lar­ly sus­cep­ti­ble; and he had his own pod­cast in which, among oth­er things, he explained (wink) how the human brain works.

Giv­en these cre­den­tials, and his abil­i­ty to apply his intel­li­gence, wit, and com­ic tim­ing to sub­jects not often seen as par­tic­u­lar­ly excit­ing by the gen­er­al pub­lic, Cleese seems like the per­fect per­son for the job, even if he isn’t an Amer­i­can philoso­pher. The APA, found­ed in 1900, has recent­ly host­ed con­fer­ences on reli­gious tol­er­ance and “Cul­ti­vat­ing Cit­i­zen­ship.” In 2000, as part of its cen­ten­ni­al cel­e­bra­tion, the orga­ni­za­tion had Cleese record 22 very short “Pub­lic Ser­vice Announce­ments” to intro­duce novices to the impor­tant work of phi­los­o­phy. These range from the very gen­er­al “What Philoso­phers Do” at the top of the post to the influ­ence of phi­los­o­phy on social and polit­i­cal reform­ers like Mar­tin Luther King, Jr., Jane Addams, and Simone de Beau­voir (above), show­ing philosophy’s “bear­ing on the real world.”

In this PSA, Cleese makes the con­tro­ver­sial claim that “the 21st cen­tu­ry may belong far more to phi­los­o­phy than to psy­chol­o­gy or even tra­di­tion­al reli­gion.” “What a strange thought,” he goes on, then explains that phi­los­o­phy “works against confusion”—certainly a hall­mark of our age. There’s not much here to argue with—Cleese isn’t for­mu­lat­ing a posi­tion, but giv­ing his lis­ten­ers provoca­tive lit­tle nuts to crack on their own, should they find his PSAs intrigu­ing enough to draw them into fur­ther study. They might as well begin where most of us do, with Socrates, whom Cleese intro­duces below.

Hear the rest of Cleese’s phi­los­o­phy PSAs at the Amer­i­can Philo­soph­i­cal Association’s web­site. And should you wish to dig deep­er, you’ll find an abun­dance of resources in our archives, which includes big lists of Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es and Free Phi­los­o­phy eBooks.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Mon­ty Python’s Best Phi­los­o­phy Sketch­es

John Cleese Explains the Brain — and the Plea­sures of DirecTV

Learn The His­to­ry of Phi­los­o­phy in 197 Pod­casts (With More to Come)

Down­load 100 Free Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es and Start Liv­ing the Exam­ined Life

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

Hear the Writing of French Theorists Jacques Derrida, Jean Baudrillard & Roland Barthes Sung by Poet Kenneth Goldsmith

DerridaGoldsmith

Jacques Der­ri­da, Jean Bau­drillard, Roland Barthes… to my fresh­man ears, the names of these French the­o­rists sound­ed like pass­words to an occult world of strange and for­bid­ding ideas. I start­ed col­lege in the mid-90s, when Eng­lish depart­ments glee­ful­ly claimed post­struc­tural­ism as their birthright. Aca­d­e­m­ic cam­paigns against the fuzzy log­ic of these thinkers had not yet gath­ered much steam, though con­ser­v­a­tive cul­ture war­riors were already on the warpath against post­mod­ernism. Very short­ly after my intro­duc­tion to French post­struc­tural­ist thought, ana­lyt­i­cal pos­i­tivists launched for­mi­da­ble cam­paigns to ban­ish crit­i­cal the­o­ry to the mar­gins.

The back­lash against obscu­ran­tist the­o­ry made a good case, with pub­lic sham­ings like the “Sokal Hoax” and Phi­los­o­phy and Lit­er­a­ture’s Bad Writ­ing Con­test. Such dis­plays made the work of many Euro­pean philoso­phers and their adher­ents seem indeed—as Noam Chom­sky said of Der­ri­da, Slavoj Žižek, and Jacques Lacan—like so much vac­u­ous “pos­tur­ing.” But as potent as these cri­tiques may be, I’ve nev­er cared much for them; they seem to miss the point of more cre­ative kinds of the­o­ry, which is not, I think (as phi­los­o­phy pro­fes­sor Eric Schwitzgebel alleges) “intel­lec­tu­al author­i­tar­i­an­ism and cow­ardice,” but instead an explorato­ry attempt to expand the rigid bound­aries of lan­guage and cog­ni­tion, and to enact the mean­der­ings of dis­cur­sive thought in prose that cap­tures its “errantry” (to take a term from Mar­tini­quan poet, nov­el­ist, and aca­d­e­m­ic Edouard Glis­sant.)

In any case, the debate was not new at all, but only a lat­er iter­a­tion of the old Continental/Analytic divide that has long pit­ted expo­nents of Anglo­phone clar­i­ty against the some­times awk­ward prose of thinkers like Kant and Hegel. And I hap­pen to think that Kant, Hegel, and, yes, even lat­er Con­ti­nen­tals like Derrida—despite the delib­er­ate obscu­ri­ty of their writing—are inter­est­ing thinkers who deserve to be read. They even deserve to be sung, bad­ly, by poets—namely by con­cep­tu­al poet Ken­neth Gold­smith, who is also found­ing edi­tor of Ubuweb, senior edi­tor of PennSound, and one­time host of a radio show on glo­ri­ous­ly weird, free-form radio sta­tion WFMU.

With his nat­ty sense of style and seri­ous appre­ci­a­tion for absur­di­ty, Gold­smith has sung to lis­ten­ers the work of Wal­ter Ben­jamin, Lud­wig Wittgen­stein, and Sig­mund Freud; he has giv­en us an avant-garde musi­cal ren­di­tion of Har­ry Pot­ter; and he has turned selec­tions of Theodor Adorno’s grim Min­i­ma Moralia into 80s hard­core punk. Now, we bring you more of Goldsmith’s musi­cal inter­ven­tions: his goof­ball singing of Der­ri­da over an icy min­i­mal­ist com­po­si­tion by Anton Webern (top); of Bau­drillard over a lounge-pop instru­men­tal by Fran­cis Lai (mid­dle); and of Roland Barthes over the All­man Broth­ers (above).

As an added bonus, if you can call it that, hear Gold­smith war­ble Marx­ist the­o­rist Fred­er­ic Jame­son over Coltrane, just above. Do these ridicu­lous musi­cal exer­cis­es make these thinkers any eas­i­er to digest? I doubt it. But they do seem to say to the many haters of crit­i­cal the­o­ry and post­mod­ern French phi­los­o­phy, “hey, light­en up, will ya?”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Noam Chom­sky Slams Žižek and Lacan: Emp­ty ‘Pos­tur­ing’

John Sear­le on Fou­cault and the Obscu­ran­tism in French Phi­los­o­phy

The The­o­ry of Wal­ter Ben­jamin, Lud­wig Wittgen­stein & Sig­mund Freud Sung by Ken­neth Gold­smith

30 Min­utes of Har­ry Pot­ter Sung in an Avant-Garde Fash­ion by UbuWeb’s Ken­neth Gold­smith

Theodor Adorno’s Crit­i­cal The­o­ry Text Min­i­ma Moralia Sung as Hard­core Punk Songs

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

Watch Dismaland — The Official Unofficial Film, A Cinematic Journey Through Banksy’s Apocalyptic Theme Park

After a frus­trat­ing day spent deal­ing with a tena­cious ghost in my two-year-old lap­top, I’d much rather vis­it the drea­ry bemuse­ment park, Dis­ma­land, than that soul­less, slick-sur­faced “genius” bar. It just feels more real, some­how.

Sad­ly for those of us in gloomy, defeatist moods, Dis­ma­land, the artist Banksy’s high con­cept, mul­ti­ple acre instal­la­tion, was nev­er intend­ed to be a per­ma­nent fix­ture. It went the way of Cinderella’s coach ear­li­er this fall, but not before pho­tog­ra­ph­er Jamie Bright­more man­aged to squeeze in amongst the great throngs of British curios­i­ty seek­ers, cam­era in hand.

The weath­er was drea­ry for his three vis­its, and a secu­ri­ty guard denud­ed him of his tri­pod, but he still man­aged to cap­ture the dystopi­an scene on behalf of arm­chair trav­el­ers every­where. A cat­a­logue of hor­rors awaits you above in Dis­ma­land: The Offi­cial Unof­fi­cial Film. He also paid close atten­tion to the sound design of the apoc­a­lyp­tic get­away, under­stand­ing the audio com­po­nent to such grim exhibits as Relent­less Paparazzi and the hor­ri­fy­ing mer­ry-wheel, Cor­po­rate Scan­dal.

The artist, a true Dis­ma­teer, shares more about his time at the least hap­py place on earth here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Banksy Cre­ates a Tiny Repli­ca of The Great Sphinx Of Giza In Queens

Pat­ti Smith Presents Top Web­by Award to Banksy; He Accepts with Self-Mock­ing Video

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Her play, Fawn­book, opens in New York City lat­er this fall. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Discover the Cinematic & Comedic Genius of Charlie Chaplin with 60+ Free Movies Online

“One of the many remark­able things about Char­lie Chap­lin,” wrote Roger Ebert, “is that his films con­tin­ue to hold up, to attract and delight audi­ences.” Richard Brody described Chap­lin as not just “alone among his peers of silent-com­e­dy genius,” but also as a mak­er of “great talk­ing pic­tures.” Jonathan Rosen­baum asked, “Has there ever been anoth­er artist — not just in the his­to­ry of cin­e­ma, but maybe in the his­to­ry of art — who has had more to say, and in such vivid detail, about what it means to be poor?” Andrew Sar­ris called Chap­lin “arguably the sin­gle most impor­tant artist pro­duced by the cin­e­ma, cer­tain­ly its most extra­or­di­nary per­former and prob­a­bly still its most uni­ver­sal icon.” “For me,” wrote Leonard Maltin, “com­e­dy begins with Char­lie Chap­lin.”

And so we see that Chap­lin, near­ly forty decades after his death, main­tains his high crit­i­cal rep­u­ta­tion — while also hav­ing enjoyed the absolute height of movie-star­dom back in the silent era.

Van­ish­ing­ly few artists of any kind man­age to com­bine such block­bust­ing com­mer­cial suc­cess with such fly­ing-col­ors crit­i­cal suc­cess. That alone might give you good enough rea­son to plunge into Chap­lin’s fil­mog­ra­phy, but know that you can begin that cin­e­mat­ic adven­ture for free right here on Open Cul­ture in our archive of more than 60 Char­lie Chap­lin films on the web.

There you’ll find short come­dies like 1914’s Kids Auto Race at Venice, which intro­duced his famous pen­ni­less pro­tag­o­nist “The Tramp”; the fol­low­ing year’s The Tramp, which made it into a phe­nom­e­non; 1919’s Sun­ny­sidein which we find out what hap­pens when Chap­lin’s grace­ful­ly hap­less comedic per­sona winds up on the farm; and 1925’s The Gold Rush, the film Chap­lin most want­ed to be remem­bered for.

But though Chap­lin’s oeu­vre could­n’t be eas­i­er to start watch­ing and laugh­ing at, com­ing to appre­ci­ate the full scope of his craft — in the way that the crit­ics quot­ed above have spent careers doing — may take time. After all, the man made 80 movies over his 75-year enter­tain­ment career, a kind of pro­duc­tiv­i­ty that, even leav­ing the con­sid­er­able artistry aside, cin­e­ma may nev­er see again. You can dive into our col­lec­tion of Chap­lin films here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

101 Free Silent Films: The Great Clas­sics

Col­orized Pho­tos Bring Walt Whit­man, Char­lie Chap­lin, Helen Keller & Mark Twain Back to Life

Char­lie Chap­lin Does Cocaine and Saves the Day in Mod­ern Times (1936)

Watch Char­lie Chap­lin Demand 342 Takes of One Scene from City Lights; And Then Watch 65 Free Chap­lin Films Online

4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More

Col­in Mar­shall writes else­where on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­maand the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future? Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Sylvia Plath, Girl Detective Offers a Hilariously Cheery Take on the Poet’s College Years

Con­ven­tion­al wis­dom has it that one’s col­lege years are the best of one’s life, a max­im Sylvia Plath: Girl Detec­tive, above, seems to embrace.

The real Plath expe­ri­enced deep depres­sion and attempt­ed sui­cide while a stu­dent at Smith Col­lege. Her fic­tion­al counterpart—-played by writer-direc­tor Mike Sim­ses’ sis­ter and co-pro­duc­er, Kate—exudes a pert Nan­cy Drew spir­it.

She jug­gles mul­ti­ple admir­ers, glows with self-sat­is­fac­tion when her poem, “I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt,” receives an A+, and cooly holds her ground against stat­uesque and seem­ing­ly bet­ter-heeled class­mate, Jane.

It does­n’t mat­ter that it’s nev­er par­tic­u­lar­ly clear what mys­tery this girl detec­tive is solv­ing… the Case of the Miss­ing Tuition Check per­haps.

(Eager to stay on the good side of her bene­fac­tress, Now, Voy­ager author Olive Hig­gins Prouty, she bright­ly acqui­esces to a shot of insulin from a giant met­al syringe.)

I love how she quotes from her own poet­ry with an inten­si­ty that should feel famil­iar to any­one who’s ever been called upon to read aloud from “Dad­dy” or “Lady Lazarus” in an under­grad­u­ate Women’s Stud­ies class.

(Speak­ing of Dad­dy, Plath’s gets a notable cameo. Shades of Hamlet’s father, but fun­ny!)

This Writ­ers Guild Asso­ci­a­tion New Media award win­ner is sup­port­ed by high pro­duc­tion val­ues that range from tony loca­tions and antique cars to Sim­ses’ shei­t­el.

Find Sylvia Plath, Girl Detec­tive added to our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear Sylvia Plath Read Fif­teen Poems From Her Final Col­lec­tion, Ariel, in 1962 Record­ing

Sylvia Plath’s 10 Back to School Com­mand­ments (1953)

The Mir­rors of Ing­mar Bergman, Nar­rat­ed with the Poet­ry of Sylvia Plath

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Her play, Fawn­book, opens in New York City lat­er this fall. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Steve Martin & Robin Williams Riff on Math, Physics, Einstein & Picasso in a Heady Comedy Routine (2002)

Back in 2002, Stan­ford Uni­ver­si­ty math­e­mat­ics pro­fes­sor Robert Osser­man chat­ted with come­di­an and ban­jo play­er extra­or­di­naire Steve Mar­tin in San Francisco’s Herb­st The­atre. The event was called “Fun­ny Num­bers” and it was intend­ed to deliv­er an off-kil­ter dis­cus­sion on math. Boy did it deliv­er.

The first half of the dis­cus­sion was loose and relaxed. Mar­tin talked about his writ­ing, ban­jos and his child­hood inter­est in math. “In high school, I used to be able to make mag­ic squares,” said Mar­tin. “I like any­thing kind of ‘jumbly.’ I like ana­grams. What else do I like? I like sex.”

Then Robin Williams, that man­ic ball of ener­gy, showed up. As you can see from the five videos through­out this post, the night quick­ly spi­raled into com­ic mad­ness. They riffed on the Osbournes, Hen­ry Kissinger, num­ber the­o­ry, and physics. “Schrödinger, pick up your cat,” barks Williams at the end of a par­tic­u­lar­ly inspired tear. “He’s alive. He’s dead. What a pet!”

When Mar­tin and Williams read pas­sages from Martin’s hit play, Picas­so at the Lapin Agile Williams read his part at dif­fer­ent points as if he were Mar­lon Bran­do, Peter Lorre and Elmer Fudd. At anoth­er time, Williams and Mar­tin riffed on the num­ber zero. Williams, for once act­ing as the straight man, asked Osser­man, “I have one quick ques­tion, up to the Cru­sades, the num­ber zero did­n’t exist, right? In West­ern civ­i­liza­tion.” To which Mar­tin bel­lowed, “That is a lie! How dare you imply that the num­ber zero…oh, I think he’s right.”

The videos are weird­ly glitchy, though the audio is just fine. And the com­e­dy is com­plete­ly hilar­i­ous and sur­pris­ing­ly thought pro­vok­ing.

via Metafil­ter

Relat­ed Con­tent:
Steve Mar­tin Writes Song for Hymn-Deprived Athe­ists

Robin Williams (1951–2014) Per­forms Unknown Shake­speare Play in 1970s Standup Rou­tine

Lis­ten as Albert Ein­stein Reads ‘The Com­mon Lan­guage of Sci­ence’ (1941)

Ein­stein Explains His Famous For­mu­la, E=mc², in Orig­i­nal Audio

Jonathan Crow is a Los Ange­les-based writer and film­mak­er whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hol­ly­wood Reporter, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low him at @jonccrow. And check out his blog Veep­to­pus, fea­tur­ing lots of pic­tures of vice pres­i­dents with octo­pus­es on their heads.  The Veep­to­pus store is here.

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