Giant dancing robot spiders. // Can a helicopter lift a plane? // An AK-47 made from bacon. (h/t, Mr Eugenides) // Bacon-flavoured vodka. // Assorted hipsters. // High speed Scrabble. // Calligraphy and light. // Tools of the optician. // The degrees of online friendship. // Free B-movies. // Cat Shit One: The Animated Series. // Retro-electro version of Bohemian Rhapsody. // Time travel cheat sheet. How to reinvent the past. // Behold the Electrochef. // The life and times of Gameboy. // The growth of Las Vegas. (h/t, Coudal) // The museum of menstruation. (h/t, Anna) // “I’d rather not waste my time trying to convince smart people that they are actually smarter than stupid people.” // And, via The Thin Man, it’s Mr Tommy McCook.

Dr John at Obscene Desserts steers us to a compendium of furnishings found in 70s Danish porn. It’s quite safe for work, though the transgressive retro décor may inflame the senses.

Brace yourselves.

Images of Saturn, its ring system and its moons.

See also: Saturn’s vortex. 

I’ve previously noted the eagerness of some literary “theorists” to shoehorn Marxism into their first year reading lists with the expectation that students be “conversant with” Marx’s ideas and claims – if not those of his numerous critics – supposedly as an “exploration of theoretical issues in the study of literature.” Terry Eagleton, for instance, seems to believe that Hamlet, Heart of Darkness and Ariel are best read with Marx in mind, though the literary benefits aren’t immediately obvious to me. Nor is it obvious in literary terms why Eagleton would present students with a reading list that includes no fewer than six books about Marxism and its alleged merits: Tony Bennett’s Formalism and Marxism, Eagleton’s Marxism and Literary Criticism, Eagleton’s Ideology, Eagleton’s Criticism and Ideology: A Study in Marxist Literary Theory, Raymond Williams’ Marxism and Literature, and Leon Trotsky’s Literature and Revolution.

In their book One-Party Classroom David Horowitz and Jacob Laksin note a similar enthusiasm:

Consider, for instance, the “writing-intensive two-year course sequence” called “Intellectual Heritage” that [Temple University] requires all students to take. On the program’s web page professors post some thirty different sample exam and study questions under the title “Faculty Perspectives on Marx.” Every one, without exception, prompts students to explain what Marx said in the way one might explain the theories of Copernicus, whose theories have been confirmed by real world experiments. In contrast, all Marxist experiments in the real world have failed – in fact, they have caused the economic impoverishment of whole continents, man-made famines, and human suffering on an unprecedented scale – and yet not one of the professors contributing to the Intellectual Heritage guides bothers to note this historical fact.

In one sample guideline, a professor writes: “Marx presents an astute understanding and critique of capitalism. Is it convincing?” The question does not say, “Marx analyzed capitalism. Is his analysis convincing?” That would have been educational. Instead, the student is effectively told what to think: Marx wrote a wise critique of capitalism. Are you stupid enough to disagree with him? What if the student is not convinced and encounters that question on an exam? Since he has been forewarned that the professor thinks Marx is “astute,” will the student risk saying that Marx was catastrophically wrong, that his unfounded attacks on capitalism led to the creation of regimes that were among the most oppressive and destructive in human history, and that his professor is living in an intellectual Never-Never-Land? Or is he going to humor the professorial prejudice and maximize his chances of getting a decent grade? […]

The faculty guides to Marx on the Intellectual Heritage website fail in every respect to live up to the standards of basic academic enquiry. They offer no critical literature on Marx and Marxism, no writings by von Mises, Kolakowski, Sowell, Malia, Richard Pipes, or other scholarly critics of Marxism. Nor do they confront the connection between Marx’s ideas and the vastly destructive effect of Marxist societies, which murdered 100 million human beings and created unimaginable poverty on a continental scale.

Horowitz and Laksin’s book is well worth a read, if only to witness just how readily Marxist theorising has been grafted onto the study of comparative literature, rhetoric, communication studies, African-American studies, anthropology and journalism – very often by English graduates with no formal qualification in – or obvious grasp of – economics. Ploughing through these examples isn’t exactly an uplifting experience, in fact it’s quite depressing, not least because of the overtly question-begging nature of so many course outlines. The sense of gloom is made worse by the almost total indifference of administrators to systematic breaches of their own guidelines on bias and academic probity. Though many of the course descriptions and educators’ biographies do offer some amusement of the grimmest possible kind.

Related: A Cautionary Tale.

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. 

Ophelia Benson is pondering the word “pussy” and its connotations. In response to this Jesus and Mo cartoon on protecting deities from ridicule, a commenter writes, 

I’ve always wondered [why] the gods of today, especially the god of Islam, is such a pussy. He is unable to do a thing to protect himself or his reputation and must rely on his minions to do his dirty work.

Ophelia takes exception and replies,

The god of Islam “is such a pussy. He is unable to do a thing to protect himself or his reputation and must rely on his minions to do his dirty work” – meaning women are weak cowardly parasites.

Oh. What happened there? How did we get from this:

I’ve always wondered [why] the gods of today, especially the god of Islam, is such a pussy. He is unable to do a thing to protect himself or his reputation and must rely on his minions to do his dirty work.

To this?

meaning women are weak cowardly parasites.

I realise the ambiguities of the word “pussy” may vary on the other side of the Atlantic, where the dubious sexual connotations are perhaps more often emphasised and have a less whimsical air. (Maybe it’s a generational thing, or a gay man thing, or a trash sitcom thing, but when I hear “pussy” in a sexual context, if anything at all comes to mind it could well be Mrs Slocombe from Are You Being Served?) On the very rare occasions I’ve used the word – ironically and with a terrible American accent – I’ve used it to denote a kind of feebleness. Naïve soul that I am, I took the intended meaning here to be that Allah appears to be a sissy, coward or weakling, perhaps rather pampered, like a house cat; not that Allah in some way resembles the female genitals, or that the aforementioned body parts are contemptible, or that all women are contemptible. (Conceivably, some female non-Muslims may take exception to the suggestion – if one were made – that their ladygarden is in any way similar to the befuddled deity of Islam.)

But Ophelia – who is, I think, American and perhaps more accustomed to hearing the vulgar, sexual usage – remains unconvinced: 

Here’s a thought experiment. Suppose you were talking to the barmaid [who often appears in the cartoon] – would you say to the barmaid, “The god of Islam is such a pussy. He is unable to do a thing to protect himself or his reputation and must rely on his minions to do his dirty work”? Maybe you would, maybe you would. But I wonder. I don’t think it’s accidental that none of my male friends and correspondents ever use “pussy” or “twat” or “cunt” that way in conversation or correspondence with me. If there’s a reason for that… then perhaps there’s something wrong with the terminology; perhaps that something is that it’s sexist.

Well, I don’t regard myself as particularly sexist and I understood the intended meaning as unobjectionable – unless, that is, one believes Allah is the creator of the universe and a top-notch guy. I’ve heard at least two women use the word “twat” with pejorative gusto to describe a man, and I’ve talked to women who used the word “dick” in its derogatory sense without taking umbrage personally or on behalf of menfolk everywhere. (I was, of course, assuming they weren’t talking about me.) And though I’d be mindful that the word “pussy” has other, very different, meanings from the ones I mentioned above, I’m not sure one can assume that its usage, as above, necessarily signifies some objectionable intent or basis for indignation.

Over at B&W, the discussion rumbles on. 

Update: The Thin Man just reminded me of a stirring moment from Team America:

Sexual references? Certainly. Though readers searching for intimations of misogyny may have to look long and hard.