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Lewis Carroll’s Photographs of Alice Liddell, the Inspiration for Alice in Wonderland

One of the great poly­maths of the 19th cen­tu­ry, Lewis Car­roll (pen name of Charles Lutwidge Dodg­son) —math­e­mati­cian, logi­cian, author, poet, Angli­can cleric—took to the new medi­um of pho­tog­ra­phy with the same alacrity he applied to all of his pur­suits. Though he may be described as a hob­by­ist in the sense that he nev­er pur­sued the art pro­fes­sion­al­ly, he nonethe­less “became a mas­ter of the medi­um, boast­ing a port­fo­lio of rough­ly 3,000 images and his very own stu­dio.”

So says a recent arti­cle by Gan­non Bur­gett on Carroll’s “24-year career as a pho­tog­ra­ph­er,” dur­ing which he made a num­ber of por­traits, includ­ing one of then-poet lau­re­ate of Eng­land Alfred, Lord Ten­nyson. His sub­jects also includ­ed “land­scapes, dolls, dogs, stat­ues, paint­ings, trees and even skele­tons.”

Hallam_Tennyson_child

Car­roll excelled at a devel­op­ing method called the wet col­lo­di­on process, which replaced the daguerreo­type as the pri­ma­ry means of pho­to­graph­ic image-mak­ing. This process seems to have been some­thing like paint­ing in oils, requir­ing a great deal of dex­ter­i­ty and chem­i­cal know-how, and sim­i­lar­ly sub­ject to decay when done improp­er­ly. Car­roll par­tic­u­lar­ly val­ued this method for its dif­fi­cul­ty (he described it in detail in some lines added to a poem called “Hiawatha’s Pho­tograph­ing”)—so much so that once a dry devel­op­ing process came into being, he aban­doned the medi­um alto­geth­er, com­plain­ing that it became so easy any­one could do it. Carroll’s obses­sive focus on process mir­rored an obses­sion with his favorite pho­to­graph­ic sub­jects, young chil­dren, includ­ing Tennyson’s son Hal­lam (above). Most famous­ly, Car­roll obses­sive­ly pho­tographed the young Alice Lid­dell (top and below as “The Queen of May”), daugh­ter of fam­i­ly friend Hen­ry George Lid­dell and inspi­ra­tion for Carroll’s most famous fic­tion­al char­ac­ter.

Liddell,_Alice_P._-_'The_Queen_of_May'_(Lewis_Carroll,_05_or_06.1860)

Many of Carroll’s pho­tographs of Alice and oth­er chil­dren can seem down­right pruri­ent to our eyes. As Carroll’s biog­ra­ph­er Jen­ny Woolf writes in a 2010 essay for the Smith­son­ian, “of the approx­i­mate­ly 3,000 pho­tographs Dodg­son made in his life, just over half are of children—30 of whom are depict­ed nude or semi-nude.”

Some of his portraits—even those in which the mod­el is clothed—might shock 2010 sen­si­bil­i­ties, but by Vic­to­ri­an stan­dards they were… well, rather con­ven­tion­al. Pho­tographs of nude chil­dren some­times appeared on post­cards or birth­day cards, and nude portraits—skillfully done—were praised as art stud­ies […]. Vic­to­ri­ans saw child­hood as a state of grace; even nude pho­tographs of chil­dren were con­sid­ered pic­tures of inno­cence itself.

Woolf admits that Carroll’s inter­est, as schol­ars have spec­u­lat­ed for decades, may have been less than inno­cent, prompt­ing Vladimir Nabokov to pro­pose “a pathet­ic affin­i­ty” between Car­roll and the nar­ra­tor of Loli­ta. The evi­dence for Carroll’s pos­si­ble pedophil­ia is high­ly sug­ges­tive but hard­ly con­clu­sive. Bur­gett sum­ma­rizes the claims as only spec­u­la­tive at best: “The entire con­tro­ver­sy is an almost cen­tu­ry-long debate, and one that doesn’t seem to be mak­ing any major progress in either direc­tion.” In a Slate review of Woolf’s Lewis Car­roll biog­ra­phy, Seth Lerer also acknowl­edges the con­tro­ver­sy, but reads the pho­tographs of Alice, her sis­ters, and friends as rep­re­sen­ta­tive of larg­er trends, as “bril­liant tes­ti­monies to the taste, the sen­ti­ment, and per­haps the sex­u­al­i­ty of mid-Vic­to­ri­an Eng­land.”

Lorina_and_Alice_Liddell.Chinamen

A great part of this Vic­to­ri­an sen­si­bil­i­ty con­sists of the “recog­ni­tion that all life involves role-play­ing,” hence the recur­ring pho­tos of the girls in dress-up—as fig­ures from myth and lit­er­a­ture and exot­ic Ori­en­tal­ist char­ac­ters, such as the pho­to above of Alice and her sis­ter Lori­na as “Chi­na­men.” “These are the tableaux of Vic­to­ri­an melo­dra­ma,” writes Lerer, “images on stage-sets of the imag­i­na­tion.” We see anoth­er of Carroll’s favorite pho­to­graph­ic sub­jects, Alexan­dra “Xie” Kitchin, daugh­ter of a col­league, also giv­en the Ori­en­tal­ist treat­ment below, posed as an off-duty tea mer­chant.

Carroll’s care­ful­ly staged child pho­tographs are very much like those of oth­er pho­tog­ra­phers of the peri­od like Mary Cow­den Clarke and Julia Mar­garet Cameron, who also pho­tographed Alice Lid­dell, even into her adult­hood. Cameron’s pho­tographs also includ­ed child nudes, to a sim­i­lar effect as Carroll’s—the depic­tion of a “state of grace” in which chil­dren appear as nymphs, “gyp­sies” or oth­er such types sup­pos­ed­ly belong­ing to Edenic worlds untouched by adult cares. Giv­en the con­text Woolf, Lerer and oth­ers pro­vide, it’s rea­son­able to view Carroll’s child pho­tog­ra­phy as con­sis­tent with the tastes of the day. (Though no one sug­gests this as an ali­bi for Car­rol­l’s pos­si­bly trou­bling pro­cliv­i­ties.)

As it stands, the pho­tographs of Alice and oth­er chil­dren open a fas­ci­nat­ing, if some­times dis­com­fit­ing, win­dow on an age that viewed child­hood very dif­fer­ent­ly than our own. They also give us a view of Carroll’s strange inner world, one not unlike the unset­tling fan­ta­sy realm of 20th cen­tu­ry folk artist Hen­ry Darg­er. Unlike Darg­er, Carroll’s work brought him wide­spread fame in his life­time, but like that reclu­sive fig­ure, the author of Alice’s Adven­tures in Won­der­land and Through the Look­ing Glass was a shy, intro­spec­tive man whose imag­i­na­tive land­scape pos­sessed a log­ic all its own, charged with mag­ic, threat, and long­ing for lost child­hood inno­cence.

See a gal­leries of Carroll’s pho­tographs of Alice and oth­er chil­dren here and here, and see this site for more gen­er­al info on Carroll’s pho­tog­ra­phy.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

See The Orig­i­nal Alice In Won­der­land Man­u­script, Hand­writ­ten & Illus­trat­ed By Lewis Car­roll (1864)

See Sal­vador Dali’s Illus­tra­tions for the 1969 Edi­tion of Alice’s Adven­tures in Won­der­land

Free Audio: Alice In Won­der­land Read by Cory Doc­torow

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

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Ralph Waldo Emerson Writes a Job Recommendation for Walt Whitman (1863)

EmersonLetter1

While we often rec­om­mend Let­ters of Note for the hits of his­to­ry’s most illu­mi­nat­ing pieces of inci­den­tal cor­re­spon­dence, do con­sid­er also mak­ing a reg­u­lar vis­its to Slate’s his­to­ry blog The Vault. There you’ll find such writ­ten arti­facts as the one pic­tured in part above, astute­ly writ­ten up by occa­sion­al Open Cul­ture con­trib­u­tor Rebec­ca Onion: “In 1863, as he con­sid­ered seek­ing a gov­ern­ment clerk­ship, Walt Whit­man asked his friend and advo­cate Ralph Wal­do Emer­son for a let­ter of rec­om­men­da­tion. Emer­son, for decades a respect­ed name in Amer­i­can let­ters, knew the sec­re­taries of state and trea­sury per­son­al­ly, and Whit­man hoped that a note from him would help the younger poet secure steady employ­ment in Wash­ing­ton.” This note runs, in a tran­script from the Walt Whit­man archive, as fol­lows:

Con­cord Mass­a­chu­setts
10 Jan­u­ary 2, 1863

Dear Sir,

Mr Walt Whit­man, of New York, writes me that he is seek­ing employ­ment in the pub­lic ser­vice in Wash­ing­ton, & per­haps some appli­ca­tion on his part has already been made to your­self. Will you per­mit me to say that he is known to me as a man of strong orig­i­nal genius, com­bin­ing, with marked eccen­tric­i­ties, great pow­ers & valu­able traits of char­ac­ter: a self-rely­ing large-heart­ed man, much beloved by his friends; entire­ly patri­ot­ic & benev­o­lent in his the­o­ry, tastes, & prac­tice. If his writ­ings are in cer­tain points open to crit­i­cism, they show extra­or­di­nary pow­er, & are more deeply Amer­i­can, demo­c­ra­t­ic, & in the inter­est of polit­i­cal lib­er­ty, than those of any oth­er poet.

A man of his tal­ents & dis­po­si­tions will quick­ly make him­self use­ful, and, if the gov­ern­ment has work that he can do, I think it may eas­i­ly find that it has called to its side more valu­able aid than it bar­gained for.

With entire respect,

Your obe­di­ent ser­vant,

R. W. Emer­son.

Hon Salmon P. Chase, | Sec­re­tary of the Trea­sury.

Any of us, I feel cer­tain, would love hav­ing such an elo­quent­ly praise-filled let­ter of rec­om­men­da­tion sent on our behalf by a friend, a teacher, a for­mer employ­er, or a pil­lar of Amer­i­can Tran­scen­den­tal­ism. But even with that, the author of Leaves of Grass did­n’t find the road to a day gig par­tic­u­lar­ly smooth — in large part, of course, because of hav­ing writ­ten Leaves of Grass. Whit­man, whose “rep­u­ta­tion pre­ced­ed him in job inter­views, report­ed that Salmon Chase, the sec­re­tary of the trea­sury and addressee of this let­ter, was vehe­ment­ly against the idea of employ­ing the author of Leaves, a book that cel­e­brat­ed open sex­u­al­i­ty in a way that Chase found dis­taste­ful.” He would even get fired from anoth­er job specif­i­cal­ly “because of objec­tions to his poet­ry.” Well, they can’t say Emer­son did­n’t warn them about Whit­man’s “marked eccen­tric­i­ties” — such as his ten­den­cy to write some of the most endur­ing verse in Amer­i­can his­to­ry.

via The Vault

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Mark Twain Writes a Rap­tur­ous Let­ter to Walt Whit­man on the Poet’s 70th Birth­day (1889)

Hear Walt Whit­man (Maybe) Read­ing the First Four Lines of His Poem, “Amer­i­ca” (1890)

Find works by Whit­man and Emer­son in our twin col­lec­tions: 1,000 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free and 800 Free eBooks for iPad, Kin­dle & Oth­er Devices

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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Chicken Infinite: A 532 Page Avant-Garde Chicken Recipe

chicken-recipe

Ear­li­er this year, Gre­gor Weich­brodt, a Ger­man col­lege stu­dent, took all of the geo­graph­ic stops men­tioned in Jack Ker­ouac’s On the Road, plugged them into Google Maps, and end­ed up with a 45-page man­u­al of dri­ving direc­tions, divid­ed into chap­ters par­al­lel­ing those of Kerouac’s orig­i­nal book. Now he’s back with a culi­nary mashup. Not mashed pota­toes, but mashed up recipes for cook­ing chick­en.

“Cook­ing recipes from the web have been col­lect­ed and mixed ran­dom­ly togeth­er,” and the result is Chick­en Infi­nite, an avant-garde recipe for mak­ing chick­en that spans some 532 pages. Accord­ing to Weich­brodt, Chick­en Infi­nite – avail­able as a free PDF or paper­back – “plays with the con­cept of instruc­tions itself” that you reg­u­lar­ly see on web­sites or in man­u­als. It’s a con­cept that cut-up artist William S. Bur­roughs could love. As for how Chick­en Infi­nite actu­al­ly tastes, some­one (with a lit­tle time and a sense of adven­ture) will have to let us know.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ernest Hemingway’s Favorite Ham­burg­er Recipe

David Lynch Teach­es You to Cook His Quinoa Recipe in a Weird, Sur­re­al­ist Video

Mar­i­lyn Monroe’s Per­son­al, Hand­writ­ten Turkey-and-Stuff­ing Recipe

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

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Six Animations of Stories and Poems by Shel Silverstein

Shel Sil­ver­stein, beloved poet, song­writer, children’s author, and illus­tra­tor, per­fect­ed an instant­ly rec­og­niz­able visu­al and lit­er­ary style that has imprint­ed itself on sev­er­al gen­er­a­tions. We remem­ber the heart­felt whim­sy of sto­ries like The Giv­ing Tree (1964) and poet­ry col­lec­tions like Where the Side­walk Ends (1974) and A Light in the Attic (1981) as we remem­ber child­hood best friends, first crush­es, and sum­mer camp exploits. Many of us raised on his work have gone on to have kids of our own, so we get to revis­it those books we loved, with their weird, irrev­er­ent twists and turns and wild imag­i­na­tive flights. Our kids get a bonus, though, thanks to the web, since they can also see sev­er­al Sil­ver­stein poems and sto­ries in ani­mat­ed form on Youtube. Today, we bring you six of those ani­ma­tions. Sate your nos­tal­gia, share with your kids, and redis­cov­er the utter­ly dis­tinc­tive voice of the pre-emi­nent children’s poet.

We don’t get to hear Silverstein’s actu­al voice in the ani­ma­tions of “Runny’s Hind Keart”and “Run­ny on Rount Mush­more,” above, two of many poems made almost entire­ly of spooner­isms from the book and audio CD Run­ny Bab­bit: A Bil­ly Sook, posthu­mous­ly pub­lished in 2005.

Instead, Sil­ver­stein sound-alike Den­nis Locor­riere—for­mer lead singer of the band Dr. Hook—narrates. (Sil­ver­stein wrote a num­ber of songs for the band.) The poems are as fun for kids to read aloud as they are to untan­gle. Read full text here.

Just above, we get vin­tage Sil­ver­stein, read/singing “Ick­le Me, Pick­le Me, Tick­le Me Too” from Where the Side­walk Ends. Accom­pa­nied by an acoustic gui­tar, Sil­ver­stein turns the poem into a folk bal­lad, his voice ris­ing and crack­ing off-key. You may know that Sil­ver­stein wrote the John­ny Cash hit “A Boy Named Sue”—you may not know that he record­ed his own ver­sion and sev­er­al dozen more songs besides. The video above offers a fair rep­re­sen­ta­tion of his musi­cal style.

Sil­ver­stein pub­lished his award-win­ning col­lec­tion of poet­ry Falling Up in 1996, three years before his death and many years after my child­hood, so I didn’t have the plea­sure of read­ing poems like “The Toy Eater” as a kid. The poem is an excel­lent exam­ple of what Poets.org calls Silverstein’s “deft mix­ing of the sly and the seri­ous, the macabre, and the just plain sil­ly.”

Hear Sil­ver­stein above read “Back­wards Bill,” a poem I remem­ber quite well as one of my favorites from A Light in the Attic. His raspy sing-song nar­ra­tion turns the poem into a fun­ny lit­tle melody kids will remem­ber and love singing along to.

Final­ly, we bring you an ani­mat­ed excerpt from Silverstein’s beloved 1963 fable Laf­ca­dio: The Lion Who Shot Back, Silverstein’s first book writ­ten exclu­sive­ly for chil­dren. He is so well known as a writer and illus­tra­tor for kids that it’s easy to for­get that Sil­ver­stein first made a career in the fifties and six­ties as a car­toon­ist for adults, pub­lish­ing most of his work in Play­boy. Sil­ver­stein nev­er for­mal­ly stud­ied poet­ry and hadn’t con­sid­ered writ­ing it until his edi­tor at Harp­er & Row, Ursu­la Nord­strom, urged him to. With­out her inter­ven­tion, he’d sure­ly still be remem­bered for his icon­ic visu­al style and song­writ­ing, but mil­lions of kids would have missed out on the weird­ness of his warped imag­i­na­tion. Sil­ver­stein showed us we didn’t have to be sen­ti­men­tal or schmaltzy to be open-heart­ed, car­ing, and curi­ous. His work endures because he had the unique abil­i­ty to speak to chil­dren in a lan­guage they under­stand with­out con­de­scend­ing or dumb­ing things down. See sev­er­al more short ani­ma­tions at Silverstein’s offi­cial web­site.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Studs Terkel Inter­views Bob Dylan, Shel Sil­ver­stein, Maya Angelou & More in New Audio Trove

18 Ani­ma­tions of Clas­sic Lit­er­ary Works: From Pla­to and Shake­speare, to Kaf­ka, Hem­ing­way and Gaiman

John­ny Cash: Singer, Out­law, and, Briefly, Tele­vi­sion Host

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

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Thomas Dolby Explains How a Synthesizer Works on a Jim Henson Kids Show (1989)

We’ve all heard the musi­cal fruits of audio syn­the­sis, espe­cial­ly if we reg­u­lar­ly lis­ten to the pop of the 1980s. But how, exact­ly, does a syn­the­siz­er work? Ask a mod­ern elec­tron­ic-music enthu­si­ast and the answer may come out too tech­ni­cal, and at too much length, to bear. But pio­neer­ing­ly tech­nol­o­gy-mind­ed singer-song­writer Thomas Dol­by, he of “She Blind­ed Me with Sci­ence” (though I’ve always pre­fer his more ele­giac num­bers like “Air­waves”), can give you a clear­er, more con­cise expla­na­tion.


In fact, he gets it sim­ple to the point of child-friend­li­ness — so sim­ple that he gives it on a chil­dren’s tele­vi­sion pro­gram. The Ghost of Faffn­er Hall, which ran in late 1989 in Eng­land and Amer­i­ca, taught lessons about music with a gallery of famous per­form­ers — Bob­by McFer­rin, Joni Mitchell, James Tay­lor, Mark Knopfler — in a pup­pet-rich set­ting. Those pup­pets, the denizens (liv­ing and dead) of the tit­u­lar Faffn­er Hall, came built by Jim Hen­son’s Crea­ture Shop, known for their mas­tery of Mup­pet craft.

Dol­by’s illus­tra­tion of a syn­the­siz­er’s oper­a­tion involves an unusu­al work of Mup­petry: a fly in a match­box. “A syn­the­siz­er con­sists of two things,” he says, “an oscil­la­tor and a fil­ter. The oscil­la­tor con­trols the pitch of the sound, and the fil­ter con­trols the tone.” Out, then, comes the box and its slight­ly unwill­ing (Mup­pet) inhab­i­tant. “I want you to imag­ine the fly is an oscil­la­tor, and this box is a fil­ter.” Dol­by shakes the box, rep­re­sent­ing elec­tri­cal cur­rent through an oscil­la­tor, which makes the fright­ened fly buzz. “The hard­er I shake the box, the high­er the pitch!” To demon­strate fil­tra­tion, he opens and clos­es the match­box, harshen­ing the fly­’s wail (until, indeed, it turns into a cry of “Help!”). If you’d like to hear Dol­by talk more about the inter­sec­tion of his art and his tech­nol­o­gy at a high­er, albeit Mup­pet­less lev­el, have a lis­ten to his appear­ance last year on the Nerdist pod­cast. He long ago, in anoth­er con­text, stat­ed his goal of teach­ing peo­ple that syn­the­siz­ers “don’t have to sound like a crate of mori­bund wasps” — an inter­est­ing thing to accom­plish with a match­box and a super­in­tel­li­gent fly.

via That Eric Alper

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Buzz Aldrin and Thomas Dol­by Geek Out and Sing “She Blind­ed Me With Sci­ence”

Meet the Dr. Who Com­pos­er Who Almost Turned The Bea­t­les’ “Yes­ter­day” Into Ear­ly Elec­tron­i­ca

All Hail the Beat: How the 1980 Roland TR-808 Drum Machine Changed Pop Music

Mr. Rogers Intro­duces Kids to Exper­i­men­tal Elec­tron­ic Music by Bruce Haack & Esther Nel­son (1968)

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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Andy Warhol Interviews Alfred Hitchcock (1974)

warhol hitchcock

Few mid­cen­tu­ry cul­tur­al fig­ures would at first seem to have as lit­tle in com­mon as Andy Warhol and Alfred Hitch­cock. Sure, they both made films, but how straight a line can even the far­thest-reach­ing cin­e­ma the­o­rists draw between, say, Hitch­cock­’s Psy­cho (1960) and Warhol’s Vinyl (1965)? Hitch­cock­’s The Birds (1963) and Warhol’s Empire (1964)? Yet not only did both of them direct many motion pic­tures, each began as a visu­al artist: “Warhol had start­ed his career work­ing as a com­mer­cial illus­tra­tor, Hitch­cock had start­ed out cre­at­ing illus­tra­tions for title cards in silent movies,” says Film­mak­er IQ’s post on their encounter in the Sep­tem­ber 1974 issue of Warhol’s Inter­view mag­a­zine. Yet in the brief con­ver­sa­tion print­ed, they dis­cuss not draw­ing, and not film­mak­ing, but mur­der:

Andy Warhol: Since you know all these cas­es, did you ever fig­ure out why peo­ple real­ly mur­der? It’s always both­ered me. Why.

Alfred Hitch­cock: Well I’ll tell you. Years ago, it was eco­nom­ic, real­ly. Espe­cial­ly in Eng­land. First of all, divorce was very hard to get, and it cost a lot of mon­ey.

[ … ]

Andy Warhol: But what about a mass mur­der­er.

Alfred Hitch­cock: Well, they are psy­chotics, you see. They’re absolute­ly psy­chot­ic. They’re very often impo­tent. As I showed in “Fren­zy.” The man was com­plete­ly impo­tent until he mur­dered and that’s how he got his kicks. But today of course, with the Age of the Revolver, as one might call it, I think there is more use of guns in the home than there is in the streets. You know? And men lose their heads?

Andy Warhol: Well I was shot by a gun, and it just seems like a movie. I can’t see it as being any­thing real. The whole thing is still like a movie to me. It hap­pened to me, but it’s like watch­ing TV. If you’re watch­ing TV, it’s the same thing as hav­ing it done to your­self.

“Warhol open­ly pro­claimed that he was ner­vous upon meet­ing the leg­endary direc­tor,” adds Film­mak­er IQ, “and posed with Hitch­cock by kneel­ing at his feet,” result­ing in the pho­to you see at the top of the post. They also include three por­traits Warhol made of Hitch­cock, the best known of which Christie’s Auc­tion House describes as “a vari­a­tion on the dou­bled self-image that Hitch­cock played with in his title sequence, lay­er­ing his own expres­sive line-draw­ing over the director’s sil­hou­ette, sug­gest­ing the mis­chie­vous deface­ment of graf­fi­ti as much as the can­on­iza­tion of a hero through the time­less­ness of the inscribed pro­file.” These images and the brief inter­view excerpt leave us won­der­ing: can one call a work — on film, in a frame, in a mag­a­zine — both Hitch­cock­ian and Warho­lian? A ques­tion, per­haps, best left to the the­o­rists.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Andy Warhol’s 1965 Film, Vinyl, Adapt­ed from Antho­ny Burgess’ A Clock­work Orange

Three “Anti-Films” by Andy Warhol: Sleep, Eat & Kiss

Lis­ten to François Truffaut’s Big, 12-Hour Inter­view with Alfred Hitch­cock (1962)

36 Hitch­cock Mur­der Scenes Cli­max­ing in Uni­son

Alfred Hitchcock’s 50 Ways to Kill a Char­ac­ter (and Our Favorite Hitch Resources on the Web)

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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62 Psychedelic Classics: A Free Playlist Created by Sean Lennon

sean lennon psychedelic playlist

Last week, Rolling Stone pub­lished Sean Lennon’s list of 10 Lost Psy­che­del­ic Clas­sics. A con­nois­seur of Six­ties psy­che­del­ic music, Lennon told the mag­a­zine. “There are a hun­dred songs I could pick.” “It’s real­ly my favorite peri­od in rock & roll his­to­ry. Revolver and Pep­per are my favorite Bea­t­les records – that’s when every­one was try­ing hard­est to blow peo­ple’s minds.” He’s not kid­ding around when he says that his list could be much longer.

Over at Spo­ti­fy, we’ve found (cour­tesy of one of our Twit­ter fol­low­ers) a playlist of 62 psy­che­del­ic songs. Fea­tur­ing 3 hours and 32 min­utes of free music, the playlist lets you tap into songs by bands that had some pret­ty trip­py names. I cite as exam­ples, The Peanut But­ter Con­spir­a­cy and The Elec­tric Prunes. You’ll also find some more rec­og­niz­able names: Pink Floyd, The Beach Boys, and Alice Coop­er. Access the playlist on the web here, or start stream­ing it below. If you need to down­load Spo­ti­fy, grab the soft­ware here.

Bonus: At the bot­tom of the page, you can stream the new album by The Ghost Of A Saber Tooth Tiger, the band cre­at­ed by Sean Lennon and Char­lotte Kemp Muhl. The album, Mid­night Sun, has been called an exper­i­ment in “psy­che­del­ic blitzkrieg”.

Mid­night Sun by The Ghost Of A Saber Tooth Tiger.

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Rare Video Shows FDR Walking: Filmed at the 1937 All-Star Game

In 1921, Franklin D. Roo­sevelt was sail­ing in the Bay of Fundy when he fell over­board into the cold waters. The next day, he felt weak­ness in his legs. The sen­sa­tion inten­si­fied, and, soon enough, he could no longer walk. Once doc­tors sort­ed things out, F.D.R. dis­cov­ered that he had con­tract­ed polio, a dis­ease that typ­i­cal­ly afflict­ed chil­dren, not adults. A long and gru­el­ing peri­od of reha­bil­i­ta­tion fol­lowed, most­ly in Warm Springs, Geor­gia. You can see footage of his rehab right below.

With a lot of hard work, F.D.R. learned to walk short dis­tances, aid­ed by leg braces, a cane, and some­one’s shoul­der to lean on. When he re-entered pol­i­tics, the F.D.R. Pres­i­den­tial Library notes, he “request­ed that the press avoid pho­tograph­ing him walk­ing, maneu­ver­ing, or being trans­ferred from his car. The stip­u­la­tion was accept­ed by most reporters and pho­tog­ra­phers but peri­od­i­cal­ly some­one would not com­ply. The Secret Ser­vice was assigned to pur­pose­ly inter­fere with any­one who tried to snap a pho­to of FDR in a ‘dis­abled or weak’ state.” Above, you can see (accord­ing to CNN) only the sec­ond known clip that shows F.D.R. walk­ing. (Watch around the 40 sec­ond mark.) Record­ed in Wash­ing­ton, D.C., at the 1937 All-Star Game, the video was recent­ly donat­ed to the Penn­syl­va­nia His­tor­i­cal and Muse­um Com­mis­sion. The oth­er extant video appears right below.

via CNN

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Rare Footage: Home Movie of FDR’s 1941 Inau­gu­ra­tion

Franklin D. Roo­sevelt in 1936: ‘Gov­ern­ment by Orga­nized Mon­ey is Just as Dan­ger­ous as Gov­ern­ment by Orga­nized Mob’

Eleanor Roosevelt’s Durable Wis­dom on Curios­i­ty, Empa­thy, Edu­ca­tion & Respond­ing to Crit­i­cism

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Neil Gaiman Reads The Graveyard Book, His Award-Winning Kids Fantasy Novel, Chapter by Chapter

In 2009, Neil Gaiman won the New­bery Medal for The Grave­yard Book, a pres­ti­gious prize giv­en to “the author of the most dis­tin­guished con­tri­bu­tion to Amer­i­can lit­er­a­ture for chil­dren.” The Amer­i­can Library Asso­ci­a­tion, the orga­ni­za­tion that bestows the award, called The Grave­yard Book a “deli­cious mix of mur­der, fan­ta­sy, humor and human long­ing,” and cit­ed its “mag­i­cal, haunt­ing prose.” You can savor that prose by watch­ing the playlist of videos embed­ded above. Dur­ing the book tour for The Grave­yard Book, Gaiman read a dif­fer­ent chap­ter at every stop, and his pub­lish­er, Harper­Collins, record­ed the read­ings and made them avail­able online. If you have rough­ly eight hours of free time, you can watch the read­ing from start to fin­ish.

We have more Gaiman read­ings in our col­lec­tion of Neil Gaiman’s Free Short Sto­ries. You can also find the read­ing on our list 1,000 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Audio: Down­load the Com­plete Chron­i­cles of Nar­nia by C.S. Lewis

200 Free Kids Edu­ca­tion­al Resources: Video Lessons, Apps, Books, Web­sites & More

The Inter­na­tion­al Children’s Dig­i­tal Library Offers Free eBooks for Kids in Over 40 Lan­guages

Neil Gaiman Reads Dr. Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham

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Slavoj Žižek Tells Jokes (NSFW)

For Sig­mund Freud, a joke was nev­er just a joke, but a win­dow into the uncon­scious, laugh­ter an anx­ious symp­tom of recog­ni­tion that some­thing lost has resur­faced, dis­tort­ed into humor. For Sloven­ian psy­cho­an­a­lyt­ic philoso­pher Slavoj Žižek, jokes func­tion sim­i­lar­ly. And yet, in keep­ing with his com­mit­ment to left­ist pol­i­tics, he uses jokes not to expose the hid­den ter­rain of indi­vid­ual psy­ches but “to evoke binds of his­tor­i­cal cir­cum­stances hard to indi­cate by oth­er means.” So writes Ken­neth Bak­er in a brief SFGate review of the recent Žižek’s Jokes, a book-length com­pi­la­tion of Žižekisms pub­lished by MIT Press. Bak­er also points out a defin­ing fea­ture of Žižek’s humor: “Many of Žižek’s jokes pre­serve or even ampli­fy the vul­gar­i­ty of their demot­ic or pop cul­tur­al ori­gins.” Take the NSFW joke he tells above at the expense of a Mon­tene­grin friend. Žižek explains the joke as part of his maybe dubi­ous strat­e­gy of coun­ter­ing racism with “pro­gres­sive racism” or the “sol­i­dar­i­ty” of “shared obscenity”—the use of poten­tial­ly uncom­fort­able eth­nic humor to expose uncom­fort­able polit­i­cal truths that get repressed or papered over by polite­ness.

Some of Žižek’s humor is more trig­ger-warn­ing wor­thy, such as his retelling of this old Sovi­et dis­si­dent joke or this “very dirty joke” he report­ed­ly heard from a Pales­tin­ian Chris­t­ian acquain­tance. On the oth­er hand, some of his “dirty jokes” replace vul­gar­i­ty with the­o­ry. For exam­ple, Žižek likes to tell a “tru­ly obscene” ver­sion of the famous­ly filthy joke “The Aris­to­crats,” which you’ll know if you’ve seen, or only read about, the film of the same name. And yet in his take, instead of a series of increas­ing­ly dis­gust­ing acts, the fam­i­ly per­forms “a short course in Hegelian thought, debat­ing the true mean­ing of the neg­a­tiv­i­ty, of sub­la­tion, of absolute know­ing, etc.” This is per­haps an exam­ple of what Bak­er refers to as Žižekian jokes that are “baf­fling to read­ers not con­ver­sant with the gnarly dialec­tics of his thought, which does not lend itself eas­i­ly to sam­pling.” Be that as it may, much of Žižek’s humor works with­out the the­o­ret­i­cal con­text, and some of it is even tame enough for water cool­er inter­ludes. Below are four exam­ples of “safe” jokes, culled from web­site Crit­i­cal Theory’s list of “The 10 Best Žižek Jokes to Get You Through Finals” (which itself culls from Žižek’s Jokes). “Some of the jokes [in Žižek’s book] pro­vide hilar­i­ous insights into Hegelian dialec­tics, Lacan­ian psy­cho­analy­sis or ide­ol­o­gy,” writes Crit­i­cal The­o­ry, “Oth­ers are just fun­ny, and most are some­what offensive—a char­ac­ter­is­tic Žižek admit­ted­ly doesn’t care to cor­rect.”

#1 There is an old Jewish joke, loved by Derrida…

about a group of Jews in a syn­a­gogue pub­licly admit­ting their nul­li­ty in the eyes of God. First, a rab­bi stands up and says: “O God, I know I am worth­less. I am noth­ing!” After he has fin­ished, a rich busi­ness­man stands up and says, beat­ing him­self on the chest: “O God, I am also worth­less, obsessed with mate­r­i­al wealth. I am noth­ing!” After this spec­ta­cle, a poor ordi­nary Jew also stands up and also pro­claims: “O God, I am noth­ing.” The rich busi­ness­man kicks the rab­bi and whis­pers in his ear with scorn: “What inso­lence! Who is that guy who dares to claim that he is noth­ing too!”

#4 When the Turkish Communist writer Panait Istrati visited the Soviet Union in the mid- 1930s, the time of the big purges…

and show tri­als, a Sovi­et apol­o­gist try­ing to con­vince him about the need for vio­lence against the ene­mies evoked the proverb “You can’t make an omelet with­out break­ing eggs,” to which Istrati terse­ly replied: “All right. I can see the bro­ken eggs. Where’s this omelet of yours?”

We should say the same about the aus­ter­i­ty mea­sures imposed by IMF: the Greeks would have the full right to say, “OK, we are break­ing our eggs for all of Europe, but where’s the omelet you are promis­ing us?”

#7 This also makes meaningless the Christian joke…

accord­ing to which, when, in John 8:1–11, Christ says to those who want to stone the woman tak­en in adul­tery, “Let him who is with­out sin among you be the first to throw a stone!” he is imme­di­ate­ly hit by a stone, and then shouts back: “Moth­er! I asked you to stay at home!”

#8 In an old joke from the defunct German Democratic Republic,…

a Ger­man work­er gets a job in Siberia; aware of how all mail will be read by cen­sors, he tells his friends: “Let’s estab­lish a code: if a let­ter you will get from me is writ­ten in ordi­nary blue ink, it is true; if it is writ­ten in red ink, it is false.” After a month, his friends get the first let­ter, writ­ten in blue ink: “Every­thing is won­der­ful here: stores are full, food is abun­dant, apart­ments are large and prop­er­ly heat­ed, movie the­aters show films from the West, there are many beau­ti­ful girls ready for an affair—the only thing unavail­able is red ink.”

And is this not our sit­u­a­tion till now? We have all the free­doms one wants—the only thing miss­ing is the “red ink”: we “feel free” because we lack the very lan­guage to artic­u­late our unfree­dom. What this lack of red ink means is that, today, all the main terms we use to des­ig­nate the present con­flict —“war on ter­ror,” “democ­ra­cy and free­dom,” “human rights,” etc.—are false terms, mys­ti­fy­ing our per­cep­tion of the sit­u­a­tion instead of allow­ing us to think it. The task today is to give the pro­test­ers red ink.

For more of Slavoj Žižek’s wit­ti­cism, vul­gar­i­ty, and humor­ous cri­tiques of ide­o­log­i­cal for­ma­tions, polit­i­cal his­to­ry, and Hegelian and Lacan­ian thought, pick up a copy of Žižek’s Jokes, and see this Youtube com­pi­la­tion of the polit­i­cal­ly incor­rect left­ist philosopher’s humor caught on tape.

via Crit­i­cal The­o­ry

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Slavoj Žižek: What Full­fils You Cre­ative­ly Isn’t What Makes You Hap­py

Žižek!: 2005 Doc­u­men­tary Reveals the “Aca­d­e­m­ic Rock Star” and “Mon­ster” of a Man

In His Lat­est Film, Slavoj Žižek Claims “The Only Way to Be an Athe­ist is Through Chris­tian­i­ty”

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

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