Tag Archives: Other People

Teh Internets are Teh Idiots

Kristin and I had a bet going about which was bigger (geographically): the U.S. or China.  Right now, the bet is still unresolved, as they appear to be closely-matched enough to produce different results depending on the calculation method and assumptions.  In the process of looking for a definitive answer, I stumbled upon this soul-crushing piece of flabberghast-inducing stupidity on the brain trust that is Yahoo Answers:

My favorite part is that the apparent justification for such an apparently obvious conclusion is “what are u talking about?”  And this is the best answer, deserving of thanks.

Well, if that doesn’t just revive your hope for the future of mankind, I don’t know what will.

A few random pics

Here’s a few random pics that I got off my phone the same time I got the ones from “breakfast” – but they didn’t quite fit with the “work” motif. So here they are.
two of my favorite people.
cuties. can I say that? I think i can.
Me, making a ridiculous face.  I was with Dear Future at the time, so it was okay though.
I seem to be making that face a lot in pictures…
Katie G and Caitlin D again
Whoah, eh, easy there. Lets keep this PG.

Ah i am guilty.

“instead of continuing to mechanize the man – we must humanize the machine.”
Mumford, In the Name of Sanity (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1954) 62.
from kristin’s “Sex and the Bomb” paper. this concept is too good not to share.

Kristin Hawley on Pods and Blobs

The great Kristin Hawley tops the Boomerang Formica paper with one on Pods and Blobs!!!!! Share and Enjoy ™.
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Pods and Blobs in 1950s American Popular Culture
In America during the 1950s, postwar anxieties were frequently channeled into popular culture, ranging from the realm of the humorous to that of the terrifying. In particular, these anxieties were manifested in a surge of monster movies, in which, rather than technological threats such as robots, the monsters took the form of living creatures, often amorphous blobs, that continued to mutate and expand, consuming everything in their paths. The 1956 film Invasion of the Body Snatchers is a particularly telling example of these villainous blobs, which when examined in their context, reveal postwar anxieties concerning the spread of Communism, atomic radiation, and the loss of individualism due to corporate liberalism.
The monsters in Invasion of the Body Snatchers are at first shapeless blobs that develop inside of what appear to be large seed pods and which “have the power to reproduce themselves in the exact likeness of any form of life.” They eventually grow to resemble each individual human being on earth, “taking them over cell for cell, atom for atom,” until, “while you’re asleep, they’ll absorb your minds, your memories, and you’re reborn into an untroubled world” where there is no need for love, desire, ambition, or faith and “life is simple.”
The natural forms of the pod and the blob correspond with the prevailing biomorphic aesthetic of 1950s America. This preoccupation for fluid, amorphous, organic forms in art, product design, and architecture in the 1950s, while in part suggesting the optimism of people looking to a renewed life of peace and a future of progress and prosperity, also had a dark side, as the forms appeared prone to mutation or melt down as well as the ability to multiply and expand out of control.
This threat of unstoppable expansion and ultimate takeover makes pods and blobs a fitting monster for 1950s audiences who were consumed with the real-life fear of the seemingly immanent spread of Communism, both at home and abroad. The fear induced in the populace by the take-over of the pods is referred to in the movie as “an epidemic of mass-hysteria,” and the pods are called a “malignant disease that’s spreading through the whole country,” much like actual reaction of Americans to McCarthyism and the ensuing climate of suspicion. Also, in the film, when the pod people eventually become the majority, obedience is socially enforced and the dissenters are rounded up and turned in by the masses—an outcome not at all unlike the way McCarthyism was largely enforced by the American public’s willingness, if not eagerness, to participate.
In addition, the capacity of blobs to mutate likely reminded Americans of the all too real threat of atomic warfare and the effects of radiation. Interestingly, in the movie, the first pod is discovered growing in a greenhouse, a device by which man artificially controls nature; this is perhaps a commentary on the danger that accompanies this new scientific power. However, in the movie, as well as in the minds of the American public, this power was regarded with a kind of fearful fascination: “Maybe they’re the result of atomic radiation on plant life or animal life. Some weird alien organism–a mutation of some kind…Whatever it is, whatever intelligence or instinct it is that governs the forming of human flesh and blood out of thin air, is fantastically powerful.”
Another important characteristic of the blob in Invasion of the Body Snatchers is its lack of individuality and lack of a soul. In the film, a still-growing body is described as having “all the features but no details, no character, no lines.” At their core, they are all the same nondescript body that only assumes the likeness of individual humans. Even after the transformation is complete, something important is missing. All the facts are right: the physical appearance, the memories, but not the soul. And those who knew these individuals before the take-over feel the loss.
This inevitably calls to mind not only America’s valorization of its citizens’ individual freedoms (in reality jeopardized by McCarthyism), which were put on display to the world to counter the rise of Communism, but also, ironically, the crisis of the individual taking place on their own soil due to postwar corporate liberalism. In addition to the personal and intellectual freedom lost to McCarthyism, the depersonalization caused by industrialized society gradually left Americans feeling anxious and empty, and as society came under bureaucratic control, individual thought was devalued and mental attitude rationalized: “Corporations instituted a system of homogenization that rewarded rule-following and attitude management as good in themselves” (Belgrad, 4). Like those unsuspecting citizens in Invasion of the Body Snatchers who have already suffered a take-over, the working-man in bureaucratic society is stripped of his individuality and freedom, and just as their blob captors are soulless, so too are corporations. According to Schlesinger, the impersonality of corporations meant that no one had to feel a direct responsibility for his actions, and thus, they became the instrument through which “moral man could indulge his natural weakness for immoral deeds” (5). This crisis of individuality is articulated by the doctor in Invasion of the Body Snatchers when he says, “In my practice, I’ve seen how people have allowed their humanity to drain away. Only it happened slowly instead of all at once. They didn’t seem to mind…All of us—a little bit—we harden our hearts, grow callous. Only when we have to fight to stay human do we realize how precious it is to us, how dear.”
It is precisely this fight to stay human, taking place so fearfully and urgently in the hearts, minds, and actions of many 1950s Americans, which gave rise to the blob. The fight against the blob was the fight to protect the basic American and human values of democracy and individual freedom, as well as quite literally, to protect humanity from extinction through atomic warfare—a fight that we could simply not afford to lose.

A Word from Thom.

“but i dont have powers of persuasion, i just have temper and an acid tongue.”
-Thom Yorke, from Dead Air Space.
And if you don’t know, Johnny and Phil will be in the band in the Harry Potter film. Which means now I have to go see it.
The blackboard is filling up. I have a very good feeling about this one.

My Girlfriend Is A Genius

Here’s 750 words on formica from the lovely Kristin Hawley:
Along with a happy housewife gliding across her kitchen in high heels and a skirt from one shiny new appliance to the next, the prototypical 1950s kitchen would not be complete without the ubiquitous boomerang-patterned Formica countertops, still present today in the homes of many older Americans. In this pattern, almost dizzying to look at, countless more or less boomerang-like shapes, not solid, but rather formed by their outline, overlap and interact with each other. Three colors of boomerang, tan, flesh, and red on a cream-colored background, occupy three different levels in space, with the tan on top, overlapping the flesh, which overlaps the red. This, however, is perhaps the only consistency in an otherwise chaotic world. The individual boomerangs vary greatly in size, shape, and orientation, their interplay resulting in a myriad of new, equally unique shapes. In fact, it is difficult to find two that are alike and likewise to see the point at which the pattern repeats. Lacking the imposed order of straight lines and regularity of form, this pattern is held tenuously together by the tension created in its spatial relationships, as the mass of boomerangs, each individual yet all interdependent, when viewed as a whole, almost vibrates with energy.
More than a pattern, it becomes a chaotic mass of tiny organisms or cells in a tissue, multiplying, even mutating, as the variations stray further and further from the boomerang prototype. Some are not even boomerangs at all, the two arms of the “L”- shaped boomerang flattened to nearly one-hundred-eighty degrees with a bulge on the back, becoming more of a triangle with slightly concave, irregular sides than a boomerang. In fact, this variation in form fits nicely inside and underneath the typical boomerang, its sexual counterpart in this primordial orgy. One anticipates a growth, expansion, or perhaps the creation of a new life form. Viewed within the context of post-war optimism, this preoccupation with creation could signal an America looking toward the future of progress and prosperity, a new life emerging from the wreckage of war. Conversely, the seeming irrationality of the pattern makes it difficult to imagine order ever being produced from this chaos, the more likely result being that these tiny life forms will simply multiply, until they number too many to be distinguished individually, filling the space with a mass of tangled bodies. The mutated forms especially evoke the spread of disease, death, or destruction, which, given the currant of anxiety running underneath 1950s America’s outward display of optimism, may reflect fears of the spread of communism as well as nuclear fallout, and even the general uneasiness resulting from the attempt to suppress deviant behavior and discontented women and racial groups. The mutant boomerangs, though frozen in time and space, seem on the brink of expansion, and if one does not keep them in check, domination. Of course these two opposing forces, optimism regarding the promise of progress, and fear of disease and destruction due to misused technology, were present simultaneously throughout the 1950s, most notably in relation to the development of the atomic bomb, paraded as bringing peace, yet the ever present reminder of the fate of the human race in the face of atomic warfare.
However, with this 1950 Formica, these fears and anxieties could be neatly contained in the convenience and attractiveness of a modern plastic countertop. To the average (mostly) happy housewife, this was not a pool of multiplying bacteria onto which she was setting her food and kitchen wares, but rather a sleek, modern design to compliment a modern kitchen, the very thing that reassured Americans of their success and security. Variations of the amorphous, biological shapes in this pattern were being used in much of modern design, and here, in contrast to the hard lines of the machine age, these shapes could be a response to the flexibility of plastic, a reference to progress and to the very material of which the pattern is made.
But why the boomerang? Perhaps there is safety in the boomerang because the very nature of the object is self-regulating. However far it travels, it will always return to where it started. Thus, in what is otherwise a realm of chaos and instability, the boomerang is predictable and controllable, and this classic Formica pattern may be not just a countertop, but the perfect emblem of America’s struggle to keep its anxieties in check under the shiny, plastic veneer of domestic success.
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An impressive display of spontaneous generation on friggen COUNTERTOP. I’m impressed, anyway.