It's a fact, no time left for eternity. Peripatetic tumblog of Kevin Slavin.
*This is personal; nothing to do with MIT or any companies or projects I'm associated with. I don't endorse everything I'm posting, I don't like everyone I follow. No carts, no horses, no pearls, no swine.
“North Korean artists are the best people at delivering a message without slogans,” says Bonner, who collects North Korean art and has produced documentaries exploring life in the DPRK […] “We wanted to show contemporary China as it could have been, if it had continued with Maoist ideology.” (via Propaganda artists from North Korea paint a rose-tinted China | Art and design | theguardian.com)
From a series of leaked Cooper Union documents, here are (unverified) instructions to the administrative assistants for George Campbell, former President of Cooper Union. (If you’re just joining us, Cooper Union provided tuition-free education for over 150 years, which ended in 2013.)
“Hotels: Dr. Campbell likes to stay at nice hotels when on College business: Ritz Carleton is his favorite, especially while in LA (he always stays at the Ritz Marina Del Rey when in the LA area — make sure to book the executive level suite, ocean view room).”
“Cars: Dr. Campbell prefers to drive a luxury SUV during the winter and a luxury Cadillac in the summer/spring or in warm climates. If a luxury car isn’t available, order a convertible. He likes to have a car on almost all of his trips as he prefers to drive to different venues.”
All of which would be fine with me, in principle, if old George had been bringing in the correlating cash for the endowment.
But instead, he presided over the slide into the extinction of Cooper Union’s principles and finances (while stating otherwise in the press, and capturing $668K in compensation in 2009, including a cash bonus of $175K, all of it approved by the Board of Trustees.)
And after gutting Cooper Union from the suites of the Ritz Marina Del Ray, where do you go from there? To the inexplicable 20% bonuses of Con Edison, of course.
I’ll be the Alumni Trustee at Cooper Union shortly. One of the challenges before me will be to explain to anyone why they should help partner with, fund, or endow the culture of luxury SUVs and Ritz hotels, at the very same time it was on its way to ending 150 years of free tuition.
It’s not a rhetorical question: if you have an idea on what would inspire trust for such an institution, feel free to drop me a line.
Oh, just a few choice ideas from the Vice-chair of the Texas Republican Party, who is no longer running for Texas Senate.
I don’t always-reblog Evgeny Morozov, but no argument with this.
In On Repeat: How Music Plays the Mind, Elizabeth Hellmuth Margulis of the University of Arkansas explores the psychology of repetition in music, across time, style and cultures. Hers is the first in-depth study of repetitiveness in music, which she calls “at once entirely ordinary and entirely mysterious” and “so common as to seem almost invisible.”
Repetition in music can be a motif repeated throughout a composition or a favorite song played again and again. It can be the annoying earworm burrowed into the brain that just won’t go away.
Music, she writes, “is a fundamentally human capacity, present in all known cultures, and important to intellectual, emotional and social experience.” And repetition is a key element in music, one that both pulls us into the experience and pulls us together as people.
In her research, Margulis drew on a range of disciplines, including music theory, psycholinguistics, neuroscience and cognitive psychology, to examine how listeners perceive and respond to repetition. She worked with ethnomusicologists to understand the place of music and its repetitive features in cultures around the world.
On Repeat is published by Oxford University Press. The Kindle version is available already, and the hardback publication will ship on Nov. 11, 2013.
A repeated musical motif can build pleasurable expectations in the listener, pulling them into the experience of the piece of music.
“Repetition makes it possible for us to experience a sense of expanded present, characterized not by the explicit knowledge that x will occur at time point y, but rather a déjà-vu-like sense of orientation and involvement,” Margulis writes.
Through repeated playing, a work of music develops an important social and biological role in creating cohesion between individuals and groups. Margulis points to children in nursery school singing a cleanup song each day or adults singing Auld Lang Syne at midnight on New Year’s Eve.
“Repeatability is how songs come to be the property of a group or a community instead of an individual,” she writes, “how they come to belong to a tradition, rather than to a moment.”
On Repeat offers new insights into the relationship between music and language, the nature of musical pleasure and the cognitive science of repetition in music. While the book will be useful to scholars and students, it is written for specialist and non-specialist alike.
“I met Lou in Munich, not New York. It was 1992, and we were both playing in John Zorn’s Kristallnacht festival commemorating the Night of Broken Glass in 1938, which marked the beginning of the Holocaust. …
As it turned out, Lou and I didn’t live far from each other in New York, and after the festival Lou suggested getting together. I think he liked it when I said, “Yes! Absolutely! I’m on tour, but when I get back – let’s see, about four months from now – let’s definitely get together.” This went on for a while, and finally he asked if I wanted to go to the Audio Engineering Society Convention. I said I was going anyway and would meet him in Microphones. The AES Convention is the greatest and biggest place to geek out on new equipment, and we spent a happy afternoon looking at amps and cables and shop-talking electronics. I had no idea this was meant to be a date, but when we went for coffee after that, he said, “Would you like to see a movie?” Sure. “And then after that, dinner?” OK. “And then we can take a walk?” “Um . . .” From then on we were never really apart.
Lou and I played music together, became best friends and then soul mates, traveled, listened to and criticized each other’s work, studied things together (butterfly hunting, meditation, kayaking). We made up ridiculous jokes; stopped smoking 20 times; fought; learned to hold our breath underwater; went to Africa; sang opera in elevators; made friends with unlikely people; followed each other on tour when we could; got a sweet piano-playing dog; shared a house that was separate from our own places; protected and loved each other. We were always seeing a lot of art and music and plays and shows, and I watched as he loved and appreciated other artists and musicians. He was always so generous. He knew how hard it was to do. We loved our life in the West Village and our friends; and in all, we did the best we could do.
Like many couples, we each constructed ways to be – strategies, and sometimes compromises, that would enable us to be part of a pair. Sometimes we lost a bit more than we were able to give, or gave up way too much, or felt abandoned. Sometimes we got really angry. But even when I was mad, I was never bored. We learned to forgive each other. And somehow, for 21 years, we tangled our minds and hearts together.
It was spring in 2008 when I was walking down a road in California feeling sorry for myself and talking on my cell with Lou. ‘There are so many things I’ve never done that I wanted to do,’ I said.
'You know, I never learned German, I never studied physics, I never got married.'
'Why don't we get married?… I'll meet you halfway. I'll come to Colorado. How about tomorrow?'
'Um – don't you think tomorrow is too soon?'
'No, I don't.'”
Stock market in Grand Theft Auto.
There are many things about these Instagrams from North Korea that are notable. I can’t explain what’s happening in this one but I could look at it for hours (if I had hours).
(via Uncensored Instagrams From North Korea Buck Brutal Trend of Secrecy | Raw File | Wired.com)