Tea-bag lights. // The writhing Sun. // The white heat of bacon. // ToneMatrix. // Assorted rocket sleds. // Backyard roller coaster. // Wake-up calls for astronauts. // Enterprise makeovers. // A Wolf Loves Pork. // These images aren’t Photoshopped. (h/t, Coudal) // New York composites. // Das Kapital: the musical. // More eggshell art. // Extinct video recorders. (h/t, Things) // Recurring dance moves in Disney films. (h/t, DRB) // On phantom limbs. // Eating beaver. // Cuddly microbes. // Because owls need love too. // And, via The Thin Man, it’s Frank and Bing.

Further to this sorry episode and others like it in the archives, Clazy steers us to yet another example of campus tolerance:

I didn’t expect them to literally chase him out of the building.

Readers may detect a familiar pattern here. If someone is invited onto campus to discuss a controversial subject – say, illegal immigration – the most righteous response is not to refute that person’s arguments, which would entail some effort and minimal civility. Good lord, no, there’s no time for that. (And why run the risk of hearing new information – and worse, rethinking one’s own position?) Instead, simply ensure the guest cannot air any argument at all. Then there’s not much to refute. One can simply sloganeer triumphantly and, of course, paraphrase. Call what the speaker would have said “hate speech,” then no-one will be curious and people will stay clear. Should the guest dare to invite questions at the end of his speech, this must be taken as an act of provocation and a license for pre-emptive rage. Great effort should be made to intimidate not only the speaker but those who wish to hear him speak and those who allowed him onto your turf. With luck, faculty will join in with the disruption to signal their own credentials. Breaking windows and showering people with glass is also a sign of possessing unassailable convictions. It sends a message, see, and let’s everyone know who’s boss.

Video here and here.

Over the holiday weekend I somehow missed the Guardian’s latest musings on Thatcher and the arts. The writer Hanif Kureishi offers this:

[I]n the longer term, her effect has been disastrous. Thatcher, like the Queen, is basically vulgar, and has little cultural sophistication or understanding. But unlike the Queen, she actively hated culture, as she recognised that it was a form of dissent.

Ah yes, “dissent.” That’s up there with Polly Toynbee’s conviction that subsidised literary festivals are not only “hot new debating arenas” and “as good a measure of well-being as any,” but also, crucially, make up for “the nation’s democratic deficit.” Naturally, this is advanced as a basis for additional taxpayer subsidy of the art forms Polly happens to like, and in which she has a platform. (There is, sadly, no public subsidy of my CD collection or Battlestar Galactica box sets, for which I expect to pay full price. But then if I want some political edge to my entertainment, I’m more likely to turn to, say, South Park than the woolly blatherings of DBC Pierre or the plays of David Hare. No doubt that makes me a hater of culture.) Toynbee devotees may also recall her enthusiasm for the idea that “disruptive 16-year-old boys” should be taken out of class to spend a term being taught the finer points of dance, resulting in a “transformation in the whole year group.”  

But on the subject of dissent, one might wonder whether publicly subsidised art and theatre will tend to favour a political outlook in which the subsidy on which it depends is most vigorously endorsed, thus leading to uniformity, inhibition and a political comfort zone. Which raises the question of what “dissent” actually means when the status quo in London’s dramatic circles is, as we’ve seen, overwhelmingly leftwing. It seems to me the nature of arts and theatrical funding has at least some bearing on the political tenor of artistic establishments and much of the work that’s produced. In the case of museums and orchestras this may not be particularly relevant. But there’s no shortage of overtly politicised “art” that peddles an ideological message or badmouths the terribly bourgeois values of the terrible bourgeois people who are nonetheless expected to pay for it with their taxes. In such cases, objections are easy to understand. If people wish to use art to propagate a leftwing political message, perhaps they should find a suitably likeminded sponsor, or do it on their own dime.

ThruYOU brings the funk. (h/t, Dr Westerhaus) // Animani. // Because you demanded it, art made from toenails. // See where people are buying shoes. // Vintage Stalin bulbs. // Those crazy Soviets. // An impressive use of toilet roll tubes. // Chocolate and bacon, together at last. // A boneyard of neon signs. (h/t, Coudal) // Vintage analogue lie detectors. // Cartwheel galaxy. // Attack of the giant space hand. // Death rays and discombobulators. // Arresting pylons. // Vintage computer interface, 1981. // A history of the computer mouse. // Erasable paper. // The Banksy backlash. // And, via The Thin Man, it’s the return of Mr John Barry.

I met with the Vice President for Student Affairs and I asked about a transfer from Multicultural Affairs to another department, almost any other department so long as my every duty and every interaction with students didn’t have to be centred on race. It was risky but I told her I had nothing to give to the job, and that I was tired of seeing students being labelled before we even talked to them.

Very casually, the vice president said that a transfer would be difficult because my departure would leave two same gendered people of the same race in that office, and there would be some difficulty “finding another black woman to replace you.”

When “diversity” is the only job in town.