Hayao Miyazaki Tells Video Game Makers What He Thinks of Their Characters Made with Artificial Intelligence: “I’m Utterly Disgusted. This Is an Insult to Life Itself”

For a young per­son in an ani­ma­tion-based field, the oppor­tu­ni­ty to share new work with direc­tor Hayao Miyaza­ki must feel like a gold­en oppor­tu­ni­ty.

This may still hold true for Nobuo Kawaka­mi, the chair­man of Dwan­go, a Japan­ese telecom­mu­ni­ca­tions and media com­pa­ny, but not for the rea­sons he like­ly antic­i­pat­ed at the start of the above video.

The sub­ject of their dis­cus­sion is a com­put­er gen­er­at­ed ani­mat­ed mod­el whose arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence caus­es it to move by squirm­ing on its head. Its cre­ators haven’t invest­ed it with any par­tic­u­lar per­son­al­i­ty traits or sto­ry­line, but its flayed appear­ance and tor­tu­ous move­ments sug­gest it’s unlike­ly to be board­ing Miyazaki’s mag­i­cal cat bus any time soon.

Even with­out an explic­it nar­ra­tive, the model’s poten­tial should be evi­dent to any­one who’s ever sat through the final-reel res­ur­rec­tion of a hor­ri­bly maimed, pre­sumed-dead ter­ror­iz­er of scant­i­ly clad young ladies.

The model’s grotesque squirm­ings could also be an asset to zom­bie video games, as Kawaka­mi excit­ed­ly points out.

Let us remem­ber that Miyazaki’s films are root­ed not in gross-out effects, but redemp­tion, a rev­er­ence for nature, and respect for chil­dren and all liv­ing things.

The mas­ter watch­es the demon­stra­tion with­out com­ment, then dis­pens­es with tra­di­tion­al Japan­ese eti­quette in favor of some strong­ly word­ed med­i­cine that leaves no doubt as to what he real­ly thought of Dwan­go’s arti­fi­cial­ly intel­li­gent wretch:

“I am utter­ly dis­gust­ed… I strong­ly feel that this is an insult to life itself.”  

(At this point, you real­ly should watch the video, to hear Miyaza­k­i’s open­ing state­ment, about a dis­abled friend for whom even a sim­ple high-five is a painful phys­i­cal exer­tion.)

Poor Kawaka­mi-san! Uncer­e­mo­ni­ous­ly shamed in front of his col­leagues by a nation­al trea­sure, he doesn’t push back. All he can offer is some­thing along the lines of “We didn’t mean any­thing by it”—a state­ment that seems cred­i­ble.

The Amer­i­can pres­i­dent may be into dehu­man­iz­ing those with dis­abil­i­ties, but the Dwan­go crew’s heads were like­ly occu­pied with boy­ish visions of a thrilling­ly grue­some zom­bie apoc­a­lypse.

It’s a harsh, but impor­tant mes­sage for Miyaza­ki to have got­ten across. Dwan­go is respon­si­ble for cre­at­ing a lot of online games. In oth­er words, they hold con­sid­er­able sway over impres­sion­able youth.

Stu­dio Ghi­b­li co-founder Toshio Suzu­ki grants Kawaka­mi and his col­leagues an oppor­tu­ni­ty to save face, ask­ing what the team’s goals are.

“We’d like to build a machine that can draw pic­tures like humans do,” one shell­shocked-look­ing young man responds.

What, like, Hen­ri Mail­larde­t’s automa­ton from 1810? While I can imag­ine such a con­trap­tion show­ing up in one of Miyazaki’s steam-punk-fla­vored adven­tures, the hush that greets this state­ment all but screams “wrong answer!”

What will this encounter lead to?

The release of an online game in which one scores points by hideous­ly dis­mem­ber­ing the ani­mat­ed form of direc­tor Hayao Miyaza­ki?

Or a new­found sen­si­tiv­i­ty, in which cool tech­no­log­i­cal advances are viewed through a lens of actu­al human expe­ri­ence?

Only time will tell.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Essence of Hayao Miyaza­ki Films: A Short Doc­u­men­tary About the Human­i­ty at the Heart of His Ani­ma­tion

Soft­ware Used by Hayao Miyazaki’s Ani­ma­tion Stu­dio Becomes Open Source & Free to Down­load

Hayao Miyaza­ki Meets Aki­ra Kuro­sawa: Watch the Titans of Japan­ese Film in Con­ver­sa­tion (1993)

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

An Animated Introduction to McCarthyism: What Is It? And How Did It Happen?

Dur­ing the 1970s, a young Don­ald Trump was men­tored by Roy Cohn, a brash, take-no-pris­on­ers lawyer, who first came to promi­nence dur­ing the 1950s, when he served as the con­sigliere to Joseph McCarthy and his cam­paign to expose sus­pect­ed com­mu­nists in the Unit­ed States. In what’s known as the Sec­ond Red Scare, McCarthy led increas­ing­ly broad and para­noid inves­ti­ga­tions, try­ing to find Com­mu­nists, sym­pa­thiz­ers and spies, both inside and out­side the fed­er­al gov­ern­ment. Most­ly on the basis of rumor, not fact, “thou­sands of indi­vid­u­als were aggres­sive­ly inves­ti­gat­ed and ques­tioned before gov­ern­ment pan­els.” Black­lists were cre­at­ed. Some were jailed. Careers and liveli­hoods were destroyed.

Year lat­er, play­wright Arthur Miller recalled, “Suf­fice it to say, it was a time of great–no doubt unprecedented–fear.” “The air of ter­ror was heavy.” “I was sure the whole thing would soon go away.” Even­tu­al­ly a sense of futil­i­ty gave way to anger, and Miller respond­ed by writ­ing The Cru­cible, a com­men­tary on McCarthy­ism wrapped in a dra­ma about the Salem witch tri­als of 1692/93.

Above, you can watch above a six minute primer on McCarthy­ism, pre­pared by Ellen Schreck­er, pro­fes­sor emeri­ta of Amer­i­can his­to­ry at Yeshi­va Uni­ver­si­ty. An expert on the his­to­ry of McCarthy­ism, she has been called “the dean of the anti-anti-Com­mu­nist his­to­ri­ans.” Her books on the sub­ject include: Many Are the Crimes: McCarthy­ism in Amer­i­ca and Age of McCarthy­ism: A Brief His­to­ry with Doc­u­ments.

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:

Free Online His­to­ry Cours­es

Bertolt Brecht Tes­ti­fies Before the House Un-Amer­i­can Activ­i­ties Com­mit­tee (1947)

Ayn Rand Helped the FBI Iden­ti­fy It’s A Won­der­ful Life as Com­mu­nist Pro­pa­gan­da

Watch “Don’t Be a Suck­er!,” the 1947 US Gov­ern­ment Anti-Hatred Film That’s Rel­e­vant Again in 2017

How to Spot a Com­mu­nist Using Lit­er­ary Crit­i­cism: A 1955 Man­u­al from the U.S. Mil­i­tary

 

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Chuck Berry (RIP) Reviews Punk Songs by The Ramones, Sex Pistols, The Clash, Talking Heads & More (1980)

Image via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

When the punk wave broke in the UK and the States in the mid-1970s, it threat­ened to leave behind the estab­lished rock bands that once seemed so rebel­lious. Pete Town­shend, the gui­tar-smash­ing song­writer of The Who, said: “I kind of wel­comed [the arrival of punk], chal­lenged it, and want­ed it to hap­pen, and then I real­ized that the per­son they want­ed to shoot was me.” And indeed Sid Vicious, of the Sex Pis­tols, would say, “I don’t have any heroes. They’re all use­less to me.”

And yet despite the pos­tur­ing, punk remained root­ed in the rock tra­di­tion, pay­ing trib­ute, whether they knew it or not, to their musi­cal fathers (The Bea­t­les, The Who, The Stones) and even the grand­fa­thers (Chuck Berry and Bud­dy Hol­ly). In Please Kill Me: The Uncen­sored Oral His­to­ry of Punk (a book I com­plete­ly rec­om­mend) edi­tor Legs McNeil writes:

Then the Ramones came back, and count­ed off again, and played their best eigh­teen min­utes of rock n roll that I had ever heard. You could hear the Chuck Berry in it, which was all I lis­tened to, that and the Bea­t­les sec­ond album with all the Chuck Berry cov­ers on it.

It all goes back to Chuck Berry, and Berry knew it. In a 1980 inter­view with the zin Jet Lag, Berry shared his thoughts on the punk anthems of the day and spot­ted his influ­ence in many of them.

The Sex Pis­tols’ “God Save the Queen”:

“What’s this guy so angry about any­way? Gui­tar work and pro­gres­sion is like mine. Good back­beat. Can’t under­stand most of the vocals. If you’re going to be mad at least let the peo­ple know what you’re mad about.”

The Clash’s “Com­plete Con­trol”:

“Sounds like the first one. The rhythm and chord­ing work well togeth­er. Did this guy have a sore throat when he sang the vocals?”

The Ramones’ “Sheena is a Punk Rock­er”:

“A good lit­tle jump num­ber. These guys remind me of myself when I first start­ed, I only knew three chords too.”

The Roman­tics’ “What I Like About You”: 

“Final­ly some­thing you can dance to. Sounds a lot like the six­ties with some of my riffs thrown in for good mea­sure. You say this is new? I’ve heard this stuff plen­ty of times. I can’t under­stand the big fuss.”

Talk­ing Heads’ “Psy­cho Killer”: 

“A funky lit­tle num­ber, that’s for sure. I like the bass a lot. Good mix­ture and a real good flow. The singer sounds like he has a bad case of stage fright.”

Wire’s “I Am the Fly” and Joy Divi­sion’s Unknown Plea­sures:

“So this is the so-called new stuff. It’s noth­ing I ain’t heard before. It sounds like an old blues jam that BB and Mud­dy would car­ry on back­stage at the old amphithe­atre in Chica­go. The instru­ments may be dif­fer­ent but the exper­i­men­t’s the same.”

Chuck Berry passed away today, still unsur­passed, at age 90. Long live Chuck.

via Dan­ger­ous Minds and h/t @alyssamilano and @austinkleon

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bruce Spring­steen and the E Street Band Impro­vis­es and Plays, Com­plete­ly Unre­hearsed, Chuck Berry’s “You Nev­er Can Tell,” Live Onstage (2013)

Chuck Berry Takes Kei­th Richards to School, Shows Him How to Rock (1987)

Down­load 50+ Issues of Leg­endary West Coast Punk Music Zines from the 1970–80s: Dam­age, Slash & No Mag

Four Female Punk Bands That Changed Women’s Role in Rock

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Hear Prince’s Personal Playlist of Party Music: 22 Tracks That Will Bring Any Party to Life


Many years ago, I took a job as a wed­ding DJ for a few months to knit ends togeth­er in col­lege. What­ev­er you pic­ture about the job of a wed­ding DJ, I can assure you that it’s even less glam­orous than that. But among the late hours, low pay, and end­less schlep­ping lay at least one pearl-like perk—at every func­tion, when the mood began to ebb along with my san­i­ty, I would put on Prince’s “Con­tro­ver­sy,” turn up the speak­ers as loud as I could, and for the next sev­en min­utes, all would be well. (See him play the song in 2010, above, to an audi­ence in Antwerp.)

For the rest of the night and the rest of the week, I’d be lost in mid-nod to that per­fect dis­til­la­tion of funk, the great­est dis­til­la­tion of funk to include the Lord’s Prayer that was ever put to tape.

Prince wrote per­fect par­ty songs—dozens of them, includ­ing the defin­i­tive par­ty song, “1999,” which Mar­tin Schnei­der at Dan­ger­ous Minds calls “a supreme sig­ni­fi­er for a Six­teen Can­dles lev­el blowout cel­e­bra­tion”… for a cer­tain cohort at least.

An entire mix­tape of Prince tunes would do right by any par­ty, but what would the man him­self put on? Sure­ly he didn’t just play his own music, although… why not? We do know he kept it raw and funky for Pais­ley Park gath­er­ings. In a playlist he pro­vid­ed to the TV show The New Girl in 2013 for an episode fea­tur­ing a fic­tion­al Prince par­ty, he opens with the midtem­po stomp of The Sta­ples Singers’ 1974 Stax Record­ing “City in the Sky.” Before long we’re onto the stone cold groove of Ste­vie Wonder’s “High­er Ground” and the dirty funk of Ohio Player’s “Skin Tight” a song about a “bad, bad mis­sus” in “skin tight britch­es.”

The Prince par­ty playlist (avail­able on Spo­ti­fy, YouTube, or stream it all below) has just the right mix of erot­ic, roman­tic, and spiritual—with the psy­che­del­ic funk of Shug­gie Otis thrown in, naturally—some of the most fine­ly-tuned soul the sev­en­ties pro­duced. One of the lat­est record­ings on the playlist, Cha­ka Khan’s “I Was Made to Love Him” came out in 1978, the same year as Prince’s first album, so we can take a fair­ly good guess at what he was lis­ten­ing to when he made his debut. In fact, we might look at the playlist as a snap­shot of the funk-rock-soul genius from Min­neapo­lis’ orig­i­nal inspi­ra­tions, which still res­onate like cos­mic radi­a­tion in his late dig­i­tal-era record­ings.

With the Prince vault opened and hun­dreds of nev­er-before-heard songs set for release, we’ll have years of oppor­tu­ni­ty to play spot-the-influ­ence. In the mean­time, get some peo­ple over and put on the mix above. If you sense a lull, drop “Con­tro­ver­sy” and watch the most awk­ward guests come alive with moves they nev­er knew they had.

via Boing­Bo­ing

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Read Prince’s First Inter­view, Print­ed in His High School News­pa­per (1976)

Prince (RIP) Per­forms Ear­ly Hits in a 1982 Con­cert: “Con­tro­ver­sy,” “I Wan­na Be Your Lover” & More

The Life of Prince in a 24-Page Com­ic Book: A New Release

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

Marshall McLuhan in Two Minutes: A Brief Animated Introduction to the 1960s Media Theorist Who Predicted Our Present

Mar­shall McLuhan, writes nov­el­ist and artist Dou­glas Cou­p­land, entered the zeit­geist in the 1960s as “a guru or as a vil­lain – as a har­bin­ger of the flow­er­ing of cul­ture, or of its death,” a “fud­dy-dud­dy fiftysome­thing Eng­lish lit pro­fes­sor from Toron­to” whose dis­tinc­tive research inter­ests and even more dis­tinc­tive habits of mind empow­ered him to come up with still-res­o­nant insights into the mod­ern media land­scape. He knew “that the point of much of tech­nol­o­gy, TV, for instance, was­n’t the con­tent of the shows you were watch­ing on it. Rather, what mat­tered was mere­ly the fact that you were watch­ing TV. The act of ana­lyz­ing the con­tent of TV – or of oth­er medi­ums – is either sen­ti­men­tal or it’s beside the point.” The medi­um, in oth­er words, is the mes­sage.

That best-known of McLuhan’s prophet­ic one-lin­ers (on which he expands in the ABC Radio Nation­al talk below) remains as true now as it was when it first appeared in his book Under­stand­ing Media: The Exten­sions of Man in 1964.

Cou­p­land empha­sizes that dif­fer­ent kinds of media, then as now, “force you to favor cer­tain parts of your brain over oth­ers,” which we denizens of the 21st cen­tu­ry know from inten­sive dai­ly expe­ri­ence: “that hour you spent on Face­book came at the expense of some oth­er way of using your brain, most like­ly TV view­ing or book-read­ing, though as books and TV recede, ever more web-medi­at­ed activ­i­ties will replace each oth­er to the point where we’ll have long for­got­ten what the pre-elec­tron­ic mind was to begin with.”

Cou­p­land once wrote a kind of biog­ra­phy of McLuhan that dis­tilled the thinker’s life, work, and cur­rent rel­e­vance into less than 250 pages, but the video at the top of the post, com­mis­sioned by Al Jazeera from ani­ma­tor Daniel Sav­age and nar­rat­ed by Hong Kong activist Alex Chow, does it in just over two min­utes. Chow reminds us that, even today, “if you don’t under­stand the medi­um, you don’t ful­ly under­stand the mes­sage,” look­ing back to the inven­tion of the print­ing press, and thus of mass media, and how its forms “changed our col­lec­tive expe­ri­ence. It informed our col­lec­tive iden­ti­ty, how we imag­ined our­selves.” In what McLuhan called the “elec­tric envi­ron­ment,” where “every­thing hap­pens at once. There’s no con­ti­nu­ity, there’s no con­nec­tion, there’s no fol­low-through. It’s just all now,” we will expe­ri­ence the end of secre­cy, and with it “the end of monop­o­lies of knowl­edge.”

55 years ago, McLuhan wrote that “the next medi­um, what­ev­er it is – it may be the exten­sion of con­scious­ness – will include tele­vi­sion as its con­tent, not as its envi­ron­ment. A com­put­er as a research and com­mu­ni­ca­tion instru­ment could enhance retrieval, obso­lesce mass library orga­ni­za­tion, retrieve the indi­vid­u­al’s ency­clo­pe­dic func­tion and flip it into a pri­vate line to speed­i­ly tai­lored data of a sal­able kind.” As we’ve since dis­cov­ered, these devel­op­ments have both their upsides and down­sides. But as Cou­p­land writes, con­sid­er that pas­sage seri­ous­ly and “see if it does­n’t give you a chill.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Vision­ary Thought of Mar­shall McLuhan, Intro­duced and Demys­ti­fied by Tom Wolfe

Mar­shall McLuhan, W.H. Auden & Buck­min­ster Fuller Debate the Virtues of Mod­ern Tech­nol­o­gy & Media (1971)

Mar­shall McLuhan on the Stu­pid­est Debate in the His­to­ry of Debat­ing (1976)

McLuhan Said “The Medi­um Is The Mes­sage”; Two Pieces Of Media Decode the Famous Phrase

Hear Mar­shall McLuhan’s The Medi­um is the Mas­sage (1967)

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 Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Tears for Fears Sings “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” with Musician Who Created Divine Dulcimer Version of Their Song

The web­site Twist­ed Sifter sets the stage for the delight­ful video above:

Last year, musi­cian Ted Yoder uploaded a ham­mered dul­cimer ren­di­tion of “Every­body Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears on YouTube. [Watch it below.]

Then last month, he did a Face­book live broad­cast of the song and both videos have since been viewed mil­lion of times. That’s when singer Curt Smith and drum­mer Jamie Wol­lam decid­ed to drop by Yoder’s orchard for an unfor­get­table encore.

It’s worth not­ing that Mr. Yoder is a Nation­al Ham­mered Dul­cimer cham­pi­on, and con­sid­ered by many  “the Bela Fleck of the ham­mered dul­cimer.” Over on YouTube you can hear him play dul­cimer ver­sions of “While My Gui­tar Gen­tly Weeps,” “Don’t Stop Believ­ing,” Bach’s Pre­lude to Cel­lo Suite, “Scar­bor­ough Fair,” and more.

For any­one not famil­iar with the orig­i­nal 1985 ver­sion of “Every­body Wants to Rule the World,” have a lis­ten here.

via Twist­ed Sifter

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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Every Front Page of The New York Times in Under a Minute: Watch the Evolution of “The Gray Lady” from 1852 to Present

Buck­ling under infor­ma­tion over­load?

The long view can be sooth­ing, as film­mak­er Josh Beg­ley proves in just under a minute, above. The data artist reduced 165 years worth of chrono­log­i­cal­ly ordered New York Times front pages—every sin­gle one since 1852—to a grid of inky rec­tan­gles flash­ing past at light­ning speed.

You won’t be able to make out the head­lines as the front page news whips past to the some­what omi­nous strains of com­pos­er Philip Glass’ ”Dead Things.”

Instead the impres­sion is of watch­ing something—or someone—steadily bear­ing wit­ness.

Obvi­ous­ly, any rep­utable new source does more than sim­ply note the unfold­ing of events. Its read­ers look to it as a source of analy­sis and cri­tique, in addi­tion to well-researched fac­tu­al infor­ma­tion.

The Gray Lady, as the Times has long been known, has recent­ly weath­ered an uptick in slings and arrows from both the left and the right, yet her longevi­ty is not eas­i­ly dis­missed.

Blog­ger Jason Kot­tke watched the video with an eye toward some of the paper’s most notable design changes. His find­ings also remind us of some of the his­toric events to appear on the Times’ front page—Lincoln’s assas­si­na­tion, Nixon’s res­ig­na­tion, and the elec­tion of our first Black pres­i­dent, which it described as a “nation­al catharsis—a repu­di­a­tion of a his­tor­i­cal­ly unpop­u­lar Repub­li­can pres­i­dent and his eco­nom­ic and for­eign poli­cies.”

How many of the over 50,000 front pages fea­tured above were deemed per­son­al­ly sig­nif­i­cant enough to squir­rel away in a trunk or an attic?

Have dig­i­tal archives decreed that this prac­tice will soon gasp its last, along with the print media that inspired it?

What will we use to wrap our fish and line our bird cages?

Read the New York Times 2012 (non-front page) cov­er­age of Apple’s rejec­tion of Josh Begley’s Drone+ app here.

via Kot­tke

Relat­ed Con­tent:

“Titan­ic Sink­ing; No Lives Lost” and Oth­er Ter­ri­bly Inac­cu­rate News Reports from April 15, 1912

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

The New York Times’ First Pro­file of Hitler: His Anti-Semi­tism Is Not as “Gen­uine or Vio­lent” as It Sounds (1922)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and the­ater mak­er in New York City.  Her play Zam­boni Godot is play­ing at The Brick in Brook­lyn through tomor­row night. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

David Lynch’s Twin Peaks Theme Song Gets the Seinfeld Treatment

And, by gol­ly, it works…

via Wel­come to Twin Peaks

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ange­lo Badala­men­ti Reveals How He and David Lynch Com­posed the Twin Peaks‘ “Love Theme”

Hear the Music of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks Played by the Exper­i­men­tal Band, Xiu Xiu: A Free Stream of Their New Album

Watch an Epic, 4‑Hour Video Essay on the Mak­ing & Mythol­o­gy of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks

Twin Peaks Tarot Cards Now Avail­able as 78-Card Deck

David Lynch’s Twin Peaks Title Sequence, Recre­at­ed in an Adorable Paper Ani­ma­tion

Hear the Music of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks Played by the Exper­i­men­tal Band, Xiu Xiu: A Free Stream of Their New Album

New Interactive Map Visualizes the Chilling History of Lynching in the U.S. (1835–1964)

Whether we like to admit it or not, the his­to­ry of the U.S. is in great degree a his­to­ry of geno­cide and racist ter­ror. As Rox­anne Dun­bar-Ortiz has demon­strat­ed in An Indige­nous Peo­ples’ His­to­ry of the Unit­ed States, the phrase “Man­i­fest Des­tiny”—which we gen­er­al­ly asso­ciate with the sec­ond half of the 19th century—accurately describes the nation’s ethos since well before its found­ing. The idea that the entire con­ti­nent belonged by right of “Prov­i­dence” to a high­ly spe­cif­ic group of Euro­pean set­tlers is what we often hear spo­ken of now of as “white nation­al­ism,” an ide­ol­o­gy that has been as vio­lent and bloody as cer­tain oth­er nation­alisms, and in many ways much more so.

“Some­how,” writes Dun­bar-Ortiz, “even ‘geno­cide’ seems an inad­e­quate descrip­tion for what hap­pened” to the Native Amer­i­can nations. Mar­tin Luther King, Jr. rec­og­nized this his­to­ry as insep­a­ra­ble from the strug­gles of African-Amer­i­cans and oth­er groups, writ­ing in 1963’s Why We Can’t Wait, “our nation was born in geno­cide when it embraced the doc­trine that the orig­i­nal Amer­i­can, the Indi­an, was an infe­ri­or race. Even before there were large num­bers of Negroes on our shores, the scar of racial hatred had already dis­fig­ured colo­nial soci­ety. From the six­teenth cen­tu­ry for­ward, blood flowed in bat­tles of racial suprema­cy.”

One strik­ing commonality—or rather continuity—in the his­to­ries Dun­bar-Ortiz and King tell is that a huge num­ber of vio­lent attacks on Native and Black peo­ple, slave and free, were car­ried out by ordi­nary set­tlers and cit­i­zens, unof­fi­cial­ly dep­u­tized by the state as irreg­u­lar enforcers of white suprema­cy. Espe­cial­ly in the cen­tu­ry after the Civ­il War, white nation­al­ism took the form of lynch­ings: bru­tal vig­i­lante hang­ings, burn­ings, and muti­la­tions meant to ter­ror­ize com­mu­ni­ties of col­or and enact the kind of fron­tier “jus­tice” pio­neered on the actu­al fron­tier. Most of the record­ed vic­tims were African-Amer­i­can, but “Native Amer­i­cans, as well as Mex­i­can, Chi­nese, and Ital­ian work­ers were bru­tal­ized and mur­dered” as well, writes Lau­ra Bliss at City­lab, and “although the rur­al South was by far the blood­i­est region nation­al­ly, no area was real­ly safe.”

Now, a new inter­ac­tive map—named Mon­roe Work Today after the ear­ly 20th cen­tu­ry his­to­ri­an (Mon­roe Nathan Work) who gath­ered much of the data—“aims to be the most com­pre­hen­sive cat­a­logue of proven lynch­ings that took place in the Unit­ed States from 1835 to 1964.” The site calls its impres­sive map “a rebirth of one piece” of Mon­roe Work’s lega­cy, expand­ed to include many more sources and the post WWII peri­od. “In the cen­tu­ry after the Civ­il War,” write the map’s cre­ators, “as many as 5000 peo­ple of col­or were executed—not by courts, but by mobs on the street who believed the cause of white suprema­cy.”

Lynch­ings became wide­spread in the ear­ly 1800s, “as a form of self-appoint­ed jus­tice in local com­mu­ni­ties… when towns­peo­ple made grave accu­sa­tions first, but nev­er both­ered to gath­er proof.” In the post­bel­lum U.S., such killings became more exclu­sive­ly racial­ized in “very real cru­sades to change the Unit­ed States to a place only for whites.” Local lead­ers “encour­aged peo­ple to car­ry that idea onto the streets.” As you can see in the screen­shots here from par­tic­u­lar­ly vio­lent peri­ods in his­to­ry, most, but by no means all of these extra­ju­di­cial killings took place in the South against African Amer­i­cans.

In oth­er areas of den­si­ty in the South­west, “Far West,” and “Left Coast” (as the project refers to these areas) the vic­tims tend­ed to be Latino/a, Chi­nese, or Native Amer­i­can. In New Orleans, a deep pool of blue marks the many Sicil­ian vic­tims of lynch­ing in the late 19th cen­tu­ry.

For a num­ber of rea­sons dis­cussed on the site, the map’s cre­ators cau­tion against using their tool “to decide that some places suf­fered ‘more racism’ than oth­ers.” Many oth­er forms of racist vio­lence, from intim­i­da­tion to rape, redlin­ing, crim­i­nal­iza­tion, and job dis­crim­i­na­tion have been wide­spread around the coun­try and are not shown on the map. In antic­i­pa­tion of accu­sa­tions of bias, Mon­roe Work Today encour­ages users to eval­u­ate the source for them­selves. (“You should always do this with any­thing you read online.”) A good place to start would be their exten­sive bib­li­og­ra­phy. As you scroll through the site, you’ll find oth­er ques­tions answered as well.

Writ­ing at The Smith­son­ian, Dan­ny Lewis calls the map “an impor­tant endeav­or to help mark these dark parts of Amer­i­can his­to­ry and make it more vis­i­ble and acces­si­ble for all.” But Mon­roe Work Today is more than a research tool. The site bears wit­ness to a con­tin­u­ing sto­ry. “The threat of vio­lence for Amer­i­cans of col­or is alive and real,” writes Bliss, “This is a good time to revis­it its his­to­ry.”

via The Smith­son­ian

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Atlantic Slave Trade Visu­al­ized in Two Min­utes: 10 Mil­lion Lives, 20,000 Voy­ages, Over 315 Years

Visu­al­iz­ing Slav­ery: The Map Abra­ham Lin­coln Spent Hours Study­ing Dur­ing the Civ­il War

75 Years of CIA Maps Now Declas­si­fied & Made Avail­able Online

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

How Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner Illuminates the Central Problem of Modernity

Of all the soci­etal debates now going on in the West, many have to do with iden­ti­ty: who belongs in which group? Which groups belong in which places? And what if who we are changes accord­ing to con­text? In its own deep con­cern with iden­ti­ty, Rid­ley Scot­t’s Blade Run­ner, one of the most endur­ing cin­e­mat­ic visions of the 20th cen­tu­ry, has come to look even more pre­scient than it already did. The video essay­ist Evan Puschak, bet­ter known as Nerd­writer, finds out what the film under­stands about the prob­lems of social life in its future — our present — in a chap­ter of his “Under­stand­ing Art” series called “Blade Run­ner: The Oth­er Side of Moder­ni­ty.”

Blade Run­ner tells the sto­ry of Rick Deckard, a retired police detec­tive called back to work to hunt down a group of slave androids, known as “repli­cants,” who have escaped their con­fine­ment in an off-world min­ing camp and arrived on Earth. “In that process,” says Puschak, “we are con­front­ed with an avalanche of big ideas: what it means to be human, how our mem­o­ries cre­ate who we are, themes of love, exploita­tion, post-colo­nial­ism, social hier­ar­chy, and social decay.”

It all takes place in an imag­ined Los Ange­les of 2019, a rainy, dark­ly sub­lime urban realm whose “upper world is crisp, clean, and pre­dom­i­nant­ly Cau­casian,” and whose “street-lev­el world is dirty, chaot­ic, and mul­ti­cul­tur­al, par­al­lel­ing the ‘white flight’ of the mid-20th cen­tu­ry.”

The vision of moder­ni­ty at work in Blade Run­ner “finds its expres­sion, nec­es­sar­i­ly, in moments between devel­op­ments of the plot,” in its glimpses, delib­er­ate­ly offered by Scott and his col­lab­o­ra­tors, into the built and social envi­ron­ment at the mar­gins of the action. The over­all effect is “to pro­duce a world the keynote of which is malaise.” And though enthu­si­asts have writ­ten a great deal about the film’s explo­ration of human­i­ty itself — argu­ments still erupt, after all, over the issue of whether Deckard is a repli­cant him­self, even after Scott him­self has tried to set­tle it — “the cen­tral prob­lem of moder­ni­ty isn’t human­i­ty; it’s iden­ti­ty.”

In Puschak’s view, Blade Run­ner diag­noses the con­di­tion that “all the free­dom of mod­ern soci­ety, all its sec­u­lar­ism and egal­i­tar­i­an­ism and choice, con­ceals a dark­er side to the coin: the side on which human iden­ti­ty isn’t deter­mined by soci­ety, but by the indi­vid­ual, mak­ing its for­ma­tion, by def­i­n­i­tion, prob­lem­at­ic.” Indeed, we could see the shift from soci­etal­ly deter­mined iden­ti­ty to indi­vid­u­al­ly deter­mined iden­ti­ty — framed pos­i­tive­ly, the long march toward free­dom — as one of the main threads of the past few cen­turies of human his­to­ry, here rep­re­sent­ed by Deckard’s strug­gle with “the grad­ual break­down of the only iden­ti­ty he’s ever had.”

The essay high­lights one espe­cial­ly poignant but lit­tle-acknowl­edged scene where Deckard, hav­ing just slain one of his assigned tar­gets, instinc­tive­ly goes to buy a drink, but “what he real­ly needs is some kind of con­nec­tion, some place where the rules of inter­ac­tion are still sol­id and know­able.” Ulti­mate­ly, even after Deckard has dis­patched all of the rogue repli­cants, no “sat­is­fac­to­ry answer to the puz­zle of moder­ni­ty” emerges, but “Blade Run­ner does­n’t seek to give answers.” Instead, it seems to have known what ques­tions we would soon ask our­selves about “the con­se­quences of a soci­ety that, for all its mem­bers, is as lim­it­less as the vast archi­tec­ture of a city, yet as indif­fer­ent as the rain.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Tears In the Rain: A Blade Run­ner Short Film–A New, Unof­fi­cial Pre­quel to the Rid­ley Scott Film

What Hap­pens When Blade Run­ner & A Scan­ner Dark­ly Get Remade with an Arti­fi­cial Neur­al Net­work

Watch an Ani­mat­ed Ver­sion of Rid­ley Scott’s Blade Run­ner Made of 12,597 Water­col­or Paint­ings

Blade Run­ner Gets Re-Cre­at­ed, Shot for Shot, Using Only Microsoft Paint

Blade Run­ner is a Waste of Time: Siskel & Ebert in 1982

Philip K. Dick Pre­views Blade Run­ner: “The Impact of the Film is Going to be Over­whelm­ing” (1981)

The City in Cin­e­ma Mini-Doc­u­men­taries Reveal the Los Ange­les of Blade Run­ner, Her, Dri­ve, Repo Man, and More

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 Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

What Did the Voice of Neanderthals, Our Distant Cousins, Sound Like?: Scientists Demonstrate Their “High Pitch” Theory

Schol­ars have made informed, edu­cat­ed guess­es at what Shake­speare sound­ed like in the orig­i­nal pro­nun­ci­a­tion. The same applies to what Old Norse sound­ed like from the 9th through the 13th cen­turies. And even to Beowulf read in Old Eng­lishHome­r’s Odyssey read in the orig­i­nal Ancient Greek, and The Epic of Gil­gamesh read in Akka­di­an.

But could we push back much fur­ther in time? How about 40,000 years into deep his­to­ry when our close cousins, the Nean­derthals, pop­u­lat­ed the plan­et?

Above, you can watch a seg­ment of a BBC doc­u­men­tary, Nean­derthal: The Rebirth, where a team of sci­en­tists “exam­ine the first full skele­ton of a nean­derthal ever to be dis­cov­ered and uncov­er insights into the most like­ly sound our prim­i­tive cousins would have made.” Anatomists, bio­met­ric spe­cial­ists, pale­oan­thro­pol­o­gists, and vocal experts–they all worked togeth­er to ana­lyze the Nean­derthal’s vocal appa­ra­tus and came to this con­clu­sion: Homo nean­derthalen­sis like­ly had a sur­pris­ing­ly high-pitched voice (the orig­i­nal High Pitch). It’s on dis­play above.

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 Atlas Obscu­ra

Relat­ed Con­tent:

What Ancient Greek Music Sound­ed Like: Hear a Recon­struc­tion That is ‘100% Accu­rate’

Hear What Shake­speare Sound­ed Like in the Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion

Learn What Old Norse Sound­ed Like, with UC Berkeley’s “Cow­boy Pro­fes­sor, Dr. Jack­son Craw­ford

Hear What Homer’s Odyssey Sound­ed Like When Sung in the Orig­i­nal Ancient Greek

Hear Beowulf Read In the Orig­i­nal Old Eng­lish: How Many Words Do You Rec­og­nize?

Hear The Epic of Gil­gamesh Read in the Orig­i­nal Akka­di­an and Enjoy the Sounds of Mesopotamia


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