Watch Björk, Age 11, Read a Christmas Nativity Story on a 1976 Icelandic TV Special

The hol­i­days can be hard, start­ing in Octo­ber when the red and green dec­o­ra­tions begin muscling in on the Hal­loween aisle.

Most Won­der­ful Time of the Year, you say? Oh, go stuff a stock­ing in it, Andy Williams!

The major­i­ty of us have more in com­mon with the Grinch, Scrooge, and/or the Lit­tle Match Girl.

Still, it’s hard to resist the preter­nat­u­ral­ly mature 11-year-old Björk read­ing the nativ­i­ty sto­ry in her native Ice­landic, backed by unsmil­ing old­er kids from the Children’s Music School in Reyk­javík.

Par­tic­u­lar­ly since I myself do not speak Ice­landic.

The fact that it’s in black and white is mere­ly the blue­ber­ries on the spiced cab­bage.

It speaks high­ly of the Ice­landic approach to edu­ca­tion that a prin­ci­pal’s office reg­u­lar who report­ed­ly chafed at her school’s “retro, con­stant Beethoven and Bach bol­locks” cur­ricu­lum was award­ed the plum part in this 1976 Christ­mas spe­cial for the Nation­al Broad­cast­ing Ser­vice.

It would also appear that lit­tle Björk, the fierce­ly self-reliant latchkey kid of a Bohemi­an sin­gle moth­er, was far and away the most charis­mat­ic kid enrolled in the Bar­namúsik­skóli.

(Less than a year lat­er her self-titled first album sold 7000 copies in Iceland—a mod­est amount com­pared to Adele’s debut, maybe, but c’mon, the kid was 11! And Ice­land’s pop­u­la­tion at the time was a cou­ple hun­dred thou­sand and change.)

As to the above per­for­mance’s reli­gious slant, it wasn’t a reflec­tion of her per­son­al beliefs. As she told the UK music webzine Drowned in Sound in 2011:

…nature is my reli­gion, in a way… I think every­body has their own pri­vate reli­gion. I guess what both­ers me is when mil­lions have the same one. It just can’t be true. It’s just…what?

Still, it prob­a­bly was­n’t too con­tro­ver­sial that the pro­gram­mers elect­ed to cleave to the rea­son in the sea­son. Ice­landic church atten­dance may be low-key, but the over­whelm­ing major­i­ty of its cit­i­zens iden­ti­fy as Luther­an, or some oth­er Chris­t­ian denom­i­na­tion.

(They also believe in elves and 13 for­mer­ly fear­some Yule Lads, descen­dants of the ogres Grýla and Lep­palúði. By the time Björk appeared on earth, they had long since evolved, through a com­bi­na­tion of for­eign influ­ence and pub­lic decree, into the kinder, gen­tler, not quite San­ta-esque ver­sion, address­ing the stu­dio audi­ence at the top of the act.)

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear the Album Björk Record­ed as an 11-Year-Old: Fea­tures Cov­er Art Pro­vid­ed By Her Mom (1977)

A Young Björk Decon­structs (Phys­i­cal­ly & The­o­ret­i­cal­ly) a Tele­vi­sion in a Delight­ful Retro Video

Björk Presents Ground­break­ing Exper­i­men­tal Musi­cians on the BBC’s Mod­ern Min­i­mal­ists (1997)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. She is proud to orig­i­nat­ed the role of Santa’s mor­tal con­sort, Mary, in her Jew­ish hus­band Greg Kotis’ Nordic-themed hol­i­day fan­ta­sia, The Truth About San­ta. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Slavoj Zizek​ Explains What’s Wrong with Online Dating & What Unconventional Technology Can Actually Improve Your Love Life

I once read a book by Lar­ry King called How to Talk to Any­one, Any­time, Any­where. Slavoj Zizek might well con­sid­er writ­ing a book of his own called How to Make Intel­lec­tu­al Pro­nounce­ments About Any­thing, Any­time, Any­where. From Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” to polit­i­cal cor­rect­ness to the Cri­te­ri­on Col­lec­tion to Star­bucks (and those just among the top­ics we’ve fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture) the Sloven­ian philoso­pher-provo­ca­teur has for decades demon­strat­ed a will­ing­ness to expound on the widest pos­si­ble vari­ety of sub­jects, to the point where his career has begun to look like one con­tin­u­ous, free-asso­cia­tive ana­lyt­i­cal mono­logue, which in the Big Think video above reach­es the inevitable sub­ject: your love life.

Per­haps you’ve tried online dat­ing — a prac­tice that, giv­en the increas­ing­ly thor­ough inte­gra­tion of the inter­net and dai­ly life, we’ll prob­a­bly soon just call “dat­ing.” Per­haps you’ve had pos­i­tive expe­ri­ences with it, per­haps you’ve had neg­a­tive ones, and most prob­a­bly you’ve had a mix­ture of both, but how often can you take your mind off the awk­ward fact that you have to first “meet” the oth­er per­son through an elec­tron­ic medi­um, cre­at­ing a ver­sion of your­self to suit that medi­um? Zizek calls this online dat­ing’s prob­lem­at­ic “aspect of self-com­mod­i­fi­ca­tion or self-manip­u­la­tion.”

“When you date online,” he says, “you have to present your­self there in a cer­tain way, putting for­ward cer­tain qual­i­ties. You focus on your idea of how oth­er peo­ple should per­ceive you. But I think that’s not how love func­tions, even at the very sim­ple lev­el. I think the Eng­lish term is ‘endear­ing foibles’ — an ele­men­tary ingre­di­ent in love. You can­not ever fall in love with the per­fect per­son. There must be some tiny small dis­turb­ing ele­ment, and it is only through notic­ing this ele­ment that you say, ‘But in spite of that imper­fec­tion, I love him or her.’ ”

Fair enough. But what to do about it? Zizek thinks that the way for­ward for roman­tic tech­nolo­gies lies not in a less tech­no­log­i­cal approach, but a more tech­no­log­i­cal approach — or at least a stranger tech­no­log­i­cal approach. He imag­ines a world of “ide­al sex­u­al attrac­tion” where “I meet a lady; we are attract­ed to each oth­er; we say all the usu­al stuff — your place, my place, what­ev­er, we meet there. What hap­pens then? She comes with her plas­tic penis, elec­tric dil­do. I come with some hor­ri­ble thing — I saw it, it’s called some­thing like stim­u­lat­ing train­ing unit — it’s basi­cal­ly a plas­tic vagi­na, a hole.”

Dare we exam­ine where this sce­nario goes? The out­come may sur­prise you. They sim­ply insert her elec­tric dil­do into his stim­u­lat­ing train­ing unit, and voilà, “the machines are doing it for us, buzzing in the back­ground, and I’m free to do what­ev­er I want, and she.” With full trib­ute paid to the super­ego by their vul­gar devices, “we have a nice talk; we have tea; we talk about movies. I talk with a lady because we real­ly like each oth­er. And, you know, when I’m pour­ing her tea, or she to me, quite by chance our hands touch. We go on touch­ing. Maybe we even end up in bed. But it’s not the usu­al oppres­sive sex where you wor­ry about per­for­mance. No, all that is tak­en care of by the stu­pid machines. That would be ide­al sex for me today.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Slavoj Žižek Exam­ines the Per­verse Ide­ol­o­gy of Beethoven’s Ode to Joy

Slavoj Žižek Names His Favorite Films from The Cri­te­ri­on Col­lec­tion

Slavoj Žižek Calls Polit­i­cal Cor­rect­ness a Form of “Mod­ern Total­i­tar­i­an­ism”

Slavoj Žižek on the Feel-Good Ide­ol­o­gy of Star­bucks

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. 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.

Great Depression Cooking: Get Budget-Minded Meals from the Online Cooking Show Created by 93-Year-Old Clara Cannucciari

“The Depres­sion was not fun,” the late YouTube star, Clara Can­nuc­cia­ri, states in the very first episode of her Great Depres­sion Cook­ing web series, above. Her first recipe—Pasta with Peas—would like­ly give your aver­age urbane food­ie hives, as would her knife skills, but Clara, who start­ed mak­ing these videos when she was 93, takes obvi­ous sat­is­fac­tion in the out­come.

Her film­mak­er grand­son Christo­pher Can­nuc­cia­ri wise­ly kept Clara in her own kitchen, rather than relo­cat­ing her to a more san­i­tized kitchen set. Her plas­tic paper tow­el hold­er, linoleum lined cab­i­nets, and teapot-shaped spoon rest kept things real for sev­er­al years worth of step-by-step, low bud­get, most­ly veg­e­tar­i­an recipes.

Her fruit-and-ging­ham ceram­ic salt and pep­per shak­ers remained con­sis­tent through­out.

How many tele­vi­sion chefs can you name who would allow the cam­era crew to film the stained tin­foil lin­ing the bot­tom of their ovens?

Nona­ge­nar­i­an Clara appar­ent­ly had noth­ing to hide. Each episode includes a cou­ple of anec­dotes about life dur­ing the Great Depres­sion, the peri­od in which she learned to cook from her thrifty Ital­ian moth­er.

She ini­tial­ly dis­liked being filmed, agree­ing to the first episode only because that was grand­son Christopher’s price for shoot­ing a pre-need funer­al por­trait she desired. She turned out to be a nat­ur­al. Her celebri­ty even­tu­al­ly led to a cook­book (Clara’s Kitchen: Wis­dom, Mem­o­ries, and Recipes from the Great Depres­sion), as well as a video where­in she answered view­er ques­tions with char­ac­ter­is­tic frank­ness.

To what did she attribute her youth­ful appear­ance?

Clean liv­ing and large quan­ti­ties of olive oil (poured from a ves­sel the size and shape of a cof­fee pot).

How to avoid anoth­er Great Depres­sion?

“At my age, I don’t real­ly care,” Clara admit­ted, “But for the younger gen­er­a­tion it’s bad.” In the worst case sce­nario, she coun­sels stick­ing togeth­er, and not wish­ing for too much. The Depres­sion, as we’ve men­tioned, was not fun, but she got through it, and so, she implies, would you.

The series can be enjoyed on the strength of Clara’s per­son­al­i­ty alone, but Great Depres­sion Cook­ing has a lot to offer col­lege stu­dents, undis­cov­ered artists, and oth­er fledg­ling chefs.

Her recipes may not be pro­fes­sion­al­ly styled, but they’re sim­ple, nutri­tious, and unde­ni­ably cheap (espe­cial­ly Dan­de­lion Sal­ad).

Home­made Piz­za—Clara’s favorite—is the antithe­sis of a 99¢ slice.

The tight belts of the Great Depres­sion did not pre­clude the occa­sion­al treat like hol­i­day bis­cot­ti or Ital­ian Ice.

Those on a lean Thanks­giv­ing bud­get might con­sid­er mak­ing Clara’s Poor Man’s Feast: lentils and rice, thin­ly sliced fried steak, plain sal­ad and bread.

Right up until her final, touch­ing appear­ance below at the age of 96, her hands were nim­ble enough to shell almonds, pur­chased that way to save mon­ey, though crack­ing also put her in a hol­i­day mood. Food­ies who shud­der at Pas­ta with Peas should find no fault with her whole­some recipe for her mother’s home­made toma­to sauce (and by exten­sion, paste).

You can watch all of Clara’s video’s on the Great Depres­sion Cook­ing chan­nel. Or find Sea­sons 1 and 2 below.

Sea­son 1:

Sea­son 2:

Sea­son 3:

via Kot­tke

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The New York Times Makes 17,000 Tasty Recipes Avail­able Online: Japan­ese, Ital­ian, Thai & Much More

Sci­ence & Cook­ing: Harvard’s Free Course on Mak­ing Cakes, Pael­la & Oth­er Deli­cious Food

MIT Teach­es You How to Speak Ital­ian & Cook Ital­ian Food All at Once (Free Online Course)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. She recent­ly co-authored a com­ic about epilep­sy with her 18-year-old daugh­ter. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Voltaire: “Those Who Can Make You Believe Absurdities, Can Make You Commit Atrocities”

Voltaire

Voltaire, the clear­est of Enlight­en­ment thinkers wrote those words in his 1765 essay, “Ques­tions sur les mir­a­cles.” And they res­onate as much now, 250 years lat­er, as they did then.

I rarely say much about myself on the site. But I’ll just say today that I did my doc­tor­al work on the French Rev­o­lu­tion, spent a cou­ple years liv­ing in Paris, and devel­oped a deep affec­tion for the city, as many oth­ers have. What hap­pened tonight is heart­break­ing, trag­ic and down­right mad­den­ing. My thoughts are with all Parisians tonight, friends and strangers alike.

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A 103-Year-Old Harlem Renaissance Dancer Sees Herself on Film for the First Time & Becomes an Internet Star

The Harlem Renais­sance lives in the form of Alice Bark­er, a soft spo­ken lady who just last week received a belat­ed Hap­py 103rd Birth­day card from the Oba­mas.

That’s her on the right in the first clip, below. She’s in the back right at the 2:07 mark. Perched on a lunch counter stool, show­ing off her shape­ly stems at 9:32.

Barker’s new­found celebri­ty is an unex­pect­ed reward for one who was nev­er a mar­quee name.

She was a mem­ber of the chorus—a pret­ty, tal­ent­ed, hard­work­ing young lady, whose name was mis­spelled on one of the occa­sions when she was cred­it­ed. She danced through­out the 1930s and 40s in leg­endary Harlem venues like the Apol­lo, the Cot­ton Club, and the Zanz­ibar Club. Shared the stage with Frank Sina­tra, Gene Kel­ly, and Bill “Bojan­gles” Robin­son. Racked up a num­ber of film, com­mer­cial and TV cred­its, get­ting paid to do some­thing she lat­er con­fid­ed from a nurs­ing home bed she would have glad­ly done for free.

Barker’s cho­rus girl days had been moth­balled for decades when she crossed paths with video edi­tor David Shuff, a vol­un­teer vis­i­tor to the nurs­ing home where she lives. Shuff seems to be a kin­dred spir­it to the writer David Green­berg­er, whose Duplex Plan­et zines—and lat­er books, comics, and performances—captured the sto­ries (and per­son­al­i­ties) of the elder­ly res­i­dents of a Boston nurs­ing home where he served as activ­i­ties direc­tor.

Intrigued by glim­mers of Barker’s glam­orous past, Shuff joined forces with recre­ation­al ther­a­pist Gail Camp­bell, to see if they could truf­fle up any evi­dence. Bark­er her­self had lost all of the pho­tos and mem­o­ra­bil­ia that would have backed up her claims.

Even­tu­al­ly, their search led them to his­to­ri­ans Ali­cia Thomp­son and Mark Can­tor, who were able to iden­ti­fy Bark­er strut­ting her stuff in a hand­ful of extant 1940s juke­box shorts, aka “soundies.”

Though Bark­er had caught her­self in a cou­ple of com­mer­cials, she had nev­er seen any of her soundie per­for­mances. A friend of Shuff’s serendip­i­tous­ly decid­ed to record her reac­tion to her first pri­vate screen­ing on Shuff’s iPad. The video went viral as soon as it hit the Inter­net, and sud­den­ly, Bark­er was a star.

The loveli­est aspect of her late-in-life celebri­ty is an abun­dance of old fash­ioned fan mail, flow­ers and art­work. She also received a Jim­mie Lunce­ford Lega­cy Award for excel­lence in music and music edu­ca­tion.

Fame is heady, but seems not to have gone to Bark­er’s, as evi­denced by a remark she made to Shuff a cou­ple of months after she blew up the Inter­net, “I got jobs because I had great legs, but also, I knew how to wink.”

Shuff main­tains a web­site for fans who want to stay abreast of Alice Bark­er. You can also write her at the address below:

Alice Bark­er
c/o Brook­lyn Gar­dens
835 Herkimer Street
Brook­lyn, NY11233

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Great­est Jazz Films Ever Fea­tures Clas­sic Per­for­mances by Miles, Dizzy, Bird, Bil­lie & More

Cab Calloway’s “Hep­ster Dic­tio­nary,” A 1939 Glos­sary of the Lin­go (the “Jive”) of the Harlem Renais­sance

A 1932 Illus­trat­ed Map of Harlem’s Night Clubs: From the Cot­ton Club to the Savoy Ball­room

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Her play, Fawn­book, is run­ning through Novem­ber 20 in New York City. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Stephen Hawking Wonders Whether Capitalism or Artificial Intelligence Will Doom the Human Race

hawking capitalism future

Cre­ative Com­mons image via NASA

It should­n’t be espe­cial­ly con­tro­ver­sial to point out that we live in a piv­otal time in human history—that the actions we col­lec­tive­ly take (or that plu­to­crats and tech­nocrats take) will deter­mine the future of the human species—or whether we even have a future in the com­ing cen­turies. The threats posed by cli­mate change and war are exac­er­bat­ed and accel­er­at­ed by rapid­ly wors­en­ing eco­nom­ic inequal­i­ty. Expo­nen­tial advances in tech­nol­o­gy threat­en to eclipse our abil­i­ty to con­trol machines rather than be con­trolled, or stamped out, by them.

It’s also the case that our most well-regard­ed sci­en­tists and tech­no­log­i­cal inno­va­tors have not remained silent in the face of these crises. Physi­cist Stephen Hawk­ing has issued some dire warn­ings late­ly when it comes to human­i­ty’s future. Sev­er­al years ago, he pre­dict­ed that “our only chance of long term sur­vival” may be to “spread out into space,” a la Inter­stel­lar. In addi­tion to the wors­en­ing cli­mate cri­sis, the rise of arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence con­cerns Hawk­ing. Along with Bill Gates and Elon Musk, he has warned of what futur­ist Ray Kurzweil has called “the sin­gu­lar­i­ty,” the point at which machine intel­li­gence sur­pass­es our own.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

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Where Kurzweil has seen this event through an opti­mistic, New Age lens, Hawk­ing’s view seems more in line with dystopi­an sci-fi visions of robot apoc­a­lypse. “Suc­cess in AI would be the biggest event in human his­to­ry,” he wrote in The Inde­pen­dent last year, “Unfor­tu­nate­ly it might also be the last.” Giv­en the design of autonomous weapons sys­tems and, as he told the BBC, the fact that “Humans, who are lim­it­ed by slow bio­log­i­cal evo­lu­tion, could­n’t com­pete and would be super­seded,” the prospect looks chill­ing, but it isn’t inevitable.

Our tech isn’t active­ly out to get us. “The real risk with AI isn’t mal­ice but com­pe­tence,” Hawk­ing clar­i­fied, in a fas­ci­nat­ing Red­dit “Ask Me Any­thing” ses­sion last month. Due to the physi­cist’s phys­i­cal lim­i­ta­tions, read­ers post­ed ques­tions and vot­ed on their favorites. From these, Hawk­ing elect­ed the “ones he feels he can give answers to.” In response to a top-rat­ed ques­tion about the so-called “Ter­mi­na­tor Con­ver­sa­tion,” he wrote, “A super­in­tel­li­gent AI will be extreme­ly good at accom­plish­ing its goals, and if those goals aren’t aligned with ours, we’re in trou­ble.”

This prob­lem of mis­aligned goals is not of course lim­it­ed to our rela­tion­ship with machines. Our pre­car­i­ous eco­nom­ic rela­tion­ships with each oth­er pose a sep­a­rate threat, espe­cial­ly in the face of mas­sive job loss due to future automa­tion. We’d like to imag­ine a future where tech­nol­o­gy frees us of toil and want, the kind of soci­ety Buck­min­ster Fuller sought to cre­ate. But the truth is that wealth and income inequal­i­ty, at their high­est lev­els in the U.S. since at least the Gild­ed Age, may deter­mine a very dif­fer­ent path—one we might think of in terms of “The Ely­si­um Con­ver­sa­tion.” Asked in the same AMA Red­dit ses­sion, “Do you fore­see a world where peo­ple work less because so much work is auto­mat­ed? Do you think peo­ple will always either find work or man­u­fac­ture more work to be done?,” Hawk­ing elab­o­rat­ed,

If machines pro­duce every­thing we need, the out­come will depend on how things are dis­trib­uted. Every­one can enjoy a life of lux­u­ri­ous leisure if the machine-pro­duced wealth is shared, or most peo­ple can end up mis­er­ably poor if the machine-own­ers suc­cess­ful­ly lob­by against wealth redis­tri­b­u­tion. So far, the trend seems to be toward the sec­ond option, with tech­nol­o­gy dri­ving ever-increas­ing inequal­i­ty.

For decades after the Cold War, cap­i­tal­ism had the sta­tus of an unques­tion­ably sacred doctrine—the end of his­to­ry and the best of all pos­si­ble worlds. Now, not only has Hawk­ing iden­ti­fied its excess­es as dri­vers of human decline, but so have oth­er decid­ed­ly non-Marx­ist fig­ures like Bill Gates, who in a recent Atlantic inter­view described the pri­vate sec­tor as “in gen­er­al inept” and unable to address the cli­mate cri­sis because of its focus on short-term gains and max­i­mal prof­its. “There’s no for­tune to be made,” he said, from deal­ing with some of the biggest threats to our sur­vival. But if we don’t deal with them, the loss­es are incal­cu­la­ble.

via Huff Po

Relat­ed Con­tent:

187 Big Thinkers Answer the Ques­tion: What Do You Think About Machines That Think?

Bertrand Rus­sell & Buck­min­ster Fuller on Why We Should Work Less, and Live & Learn More

Sev­en Ques­tions for Stephen Hawk­ing: What Would He Ask Albert Ein­stein & More

Stephen Hawk­ing: Aban­don Earth Or Face Extinc­tion

Noam Chom­sky Explains Where Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Went Wrong

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

Poignant and Unsettling Post-Mortem Family Portraits from the 19th Century

victoriaanse-post-mortem-fotografie-op-de-foto-met-1

The 19th cen­tu­ry wit­nessed the birth of pho­tog­ra­phy. And, before too long, Vic­to­ri­an soci­ety found impor­tant appli­ca­tions for the new medi­um — like memo­ri­al­iz­ing the dead. A recent post on a Dutch ver­sion of Nation­al Geo­graph­ic notes that “Pho­tograph­ing deceased fam­i­ly mem­bers just before their bur­ial was enor­mous­ly pop­u­lar in cer­tain Vic­to­ri­an cir­cles in Europe and the Unit­ed States. Although adults were also pho­tographed, it was main­ly chil­dren who were com­mem­o­rat­ed in this way. In a peri­od plagued by unprece­dent­ed lev­els of infant mor­tal­i­ty, post-mortem pic­tures often pro­vid­ed the only tan­gi­ble mem­o­ry of the deceased child.”

victoriaanse-post-mortem-fotografie-op-de-foto-met

Though unusu­al by mod­ern stan­dards, the pic­tures played an impor­tant role in a fam­i­ly’s griev­ing process and often became one of its cher­ished pos­ses­sions — cher­ished because it was like­ly the only pho­to of the deceased child that fam­i­lies had. Dur­ing the ear­ly days of pho­tog­ra­phy, por­traits were expen­sive, which meant that most fam­i­lies did­n’t take pic­tures dur­ing the course of every­day life. It was only death that gave them a prompt.

post mortem pic 3

The prac­tice of tak­ing post mortem pic­tures peaked in the 19th cen­tu­ry, right around the time when “snap­shot” pho­tog­ra­phy became more preva­lent, allow­ing fam­i­lies to take por­traits at a low­er cost, when every­one was in the full swing of life. Hence obvi­at­ing the need for post-mortem pho­tos. You can learn more about this bygone prac­tice by vis­it­ing the Burns Archive or get­ting the book, Sleep­ing Beau­ty: Memo­r­i­al Pho­tog­ra­phy in Amer­i­ca.

via Dutch Nat Geo/ Sci­ence Dump

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A Short, Powerful Animation on Addiction: Watch Andreas Hykade’s Nuggets

From Andreas Hykade, the Direc­tor of the Ani­ma­tion and Visu­al Effects pro­gram at Germany’s Fil­makademie Baden-Würt­tem­berg, comes a short ani­mat­ed film called Nuggets. Things start off innocu­ous­ly, with a kiwi tak­ing a casu­al stroll down a road, even­tu­al­ly encoun­ter­ing and tast­ing some gold­en nuggets. The nuggets are deli­cious, it turns out, too deli­cious to resist. Then [spoil­er alert!] things take a dark turn, as we watch our friend­ly kiwi sink into addic­tion and despair. In an inter­view con­duct­ed by the Ani­ma­tion World Net­work, Hykade says that he cre­at­ed the film for young teenagers who might be tempt­ed one day (pre­sum­ably by drugs). And when that day comes, he hopes they’ll think about Nuggets and its strik­ing, stripped-down mes­sage about addic­tion and the life it brings.

You can watch more ani­ma­tions by Hykade on his web site. And find more thought-pro­vok­ing Ani­ma­tions in our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

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via io9

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Cof­fee Pot That Fueled Hon­oré de Balzac’s Cof­fee Addic­tion

Bela Lugosi Dis­cuss­es His Drug Habit as He Leaves the Hos­pi­tal in 1955

How a Young Sig­mund Freud Researched & Got Addict­ed to Cocaine, the New “Mir­a­cle Drug,” in 1894

Free Online Psy­chol­o­gy Cours­es

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