Thursday, September 30, 2010

Visual Texture

Click images to enlarge
I love the public market in Porto Alegre. I always have. I love the textures you find inside. The visual texture in this place is mesmerizing. The infinite multitude of merchandise on display, the uneven illumination from the stands filtered through sausages, salted cod, fruits, people, and a century of dinge is congealed by the overhead daylight into a visual texture that exists nowhere else. It’s unique to this space.

The details of the wares being sold, the blend of people from all walks of life, the display lights, the architecture, history and filth, the stories in the faces of people who have worked there forever, the various degrees of cleanliness, it all comes together into a singlular personality that is held together by light. The light in the Porto Alegre Public Market is unique and it fascinates me!
The market has all the elements I hate about public places: crowds, smells, noise, dirt and questionable maintenance, I would rather pee my pants than use a bathroom there. However, all of that comes together under a specific quality of light, a blend of visual textures that mix to create a persona, a personality that would be diminished if any of its faults were removed. It always welcomes me when I walk in, it says to me “hi, remember me? I’ve missed you. You’re not in a hurry are you? Take a look at this…” and I’m hooked, I could spend all day looking at what it wants to show me.





Monday, September 27, 2010

cool gathers no dust

The other day, for no good reason, I wanted to use the word “swell”, I thought it would be a swell thing to do. So I took out a dust rag and started to dust “swell” off, which was no easy feat. I had to get the rag between the two l’s and give it a few buffs before the accumulated grime budged. The groves in the w were also problematic, but after a while, with the aid of some lemon pledge, “swell” looked brand new and ready for use. It felt almost like a historic moment, I knew “swell” hadn’t been used since the 50’s. Its last official appearance had, in fact, been in an "I Love Lucy" episode, I thought the event might even make it into the local 6 o’clock news. Except that I couldn’t do it. I had the newly polished “swell” on the tip of my tongue, I was ready to make history with the utterance and then I tasted “swell”. I would have expected “swell” to taste like lemon pledge after using half a canister on it, but no. It tasted stale and it felt a little like cobwebs in my mouth and at the decisive moment “swell” never came out, instead “cool” made its regular appearance. I think the reason “cool” is still around and “swell” died off is simply that the double o’s in “cool” gather less dust than the w and double l’s in “swell”. Language is a living thing and it’s continuously evolving. But here is a little known fact: the evolution of language is a derivative of our willingness to dust.

Now you know!

(I know that many linguists out there will want to use this theory for their doctorate dissertations, all I ask is that you don’t give me credit)

Friday, September 24, 2010

The world without chocolate Booga Booga

A tweet by Brent Spiner recently used the term "Booga Booga" and it made me smile.  At the same time it made me consider what would thrill me in the sense that the expression implies, with a childish fright of a monster under the bed. I’ve come to terms with the destruction of our environment and the inevitable and imminent collapse of humanity, that no longer gives me pause; and if the destruction of humanity no longer thrills me in the Booga Booga sense, I imagined that little would.  I pondered the issue for a while and eventually I found something: Witch’s Broom. No, not the kind of witch’s broom flown by a cartoon version of Elizabeth Montgomery in the opening credits of Bewitched.  But rather the fungal disease that is threatening to wipe chocolate off the face of the earth. 
a healthy cocoa fruit

The cocoa tree was originally domesticated in Central America.  The Mayans were fond of a cocoa derived drink some 1500 years ago, the conquistadors brought chocolate to Europe and we have all been addicted ever since.  Fungal infections such as witch’s boom have completely decimated cocoa production in its native land.  The fungal spores can be spread by wind and through direct contact and can quickly eradicate cocoa production in vast areas.  In a recent visit to Ilheus in the north of Brazil I had the opportunity to visit a cocoa farm that had been destroyed by witch’s broom, there was nothing left.  Throughout the nineteenth century Ilheus and surroundings produced  and exported a third of the world’s raw material for chocolate. In doing business with Europe and the world, the city was incredibly wealthy and sophisticated, as described in the novels of a local resident Jorge Amado, whose works have been translated into most languages these days. Today Ilheus produces no cocoa and its past grandeur has given way to dilapidation and poverty, all due to – you guessed it – witch’s broom.


a cocoa fruit with witch's broom



 Once a region is affected by witch’s broom there is no cure, there is no pesticide or spray that will do away with the fungus. Scientists are frantically working on genetically altered cocoa trees that are able to withstand the infestation.  The greatest fear is that such funguses will cross the Atlantic Ocean and destroy the crops in West Africa.  Around 70% of the world’s chocolate comes from West Africa and the trees there have no immunity to witch’s broom.  The world’s supply of chocolate is one careless farmer or one uninformed tourist away from being completely destroyed.   I bet you didn’t know that.  Booga Booga!

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Khufu: Irony at its best, biggest and smallest


When we think of the great figures in history, from Caesar to Napoleon we conjure up their likenesses from images of statues or paintings. Napoleon and his odd looking hat masterfully painted on canvas, Caesar and his laurel wreath perpetually carved in marble are familiar to us, we think of their deeds and names and in our mind’s eye we see their faces. However the image of the man responsible for the largest and most iconic building in the history of humanity is relatively unknown to us.  We speak of Khufu and his great pyramid and the scholarly among us might imagine the cartouche of his name, but few conceive of his face.  Every school child has heard of the pyramids of Egypt, and knows that the great pyramid is the last standing the seven wonders of the ancient world.  Few know that it was built by the second pharaoh of the fourth dynasty, Khufu; and even fewer people, when speaking of the pyramid, are able to conjure up a likeness of Khufu. That is simply because no representation of Khufu has survived the millennia, except for a miniscule three inch ivory statue.


A renowned English archeologist by the name of Flinders Petrie is credited with finding the only existing likeness of Khufu.  Imagine, if you will, Petrie sitting in his tent at an excavation at the temple of Abydos 700 kilometers from the great pyramid.  It has been a long day and he is perfunctorily examining an insignificant statue.  The statue is only noteworthy for being carved in ivory rather than stone.  The year is 1903 and in the poor lighting of his tent he discerns the name Khufu on the lower right edge of the statue.  He is holding the only existing likeness of one of the greatest figures in history, but there is a small problem, a very small problem, in fact a problem less than one inch long. The head of the statue is missing.  All excavations are halted and for the next three weeks no one does anything unrelated to finding the missing head of Khufu.  After much frantic and desperate sieving of sand and rubble, Khufu’s head is found, his image is revealed for the first time to the modern world.
Khufu’s statue is currently housed in a little visited corner of the Egyptian Museum.  There is no fanfare; a small spotlight shines over the miniature Khufu in a display cabinet sitting against a wall.   Khufu, in his day, was the most powerful man in the world and yet we know very little about the man, from his appearance to how he built his pyramid, uncertainly is our only foundation.    We will never know whether early one morning, one of his advisers turned to him and said “I’m sorry sir, but what you propose is impossible”, or whether Khufu himself turned to his architect and said “You want to build what?” But we do know that he invested his life and resources in an eternal afterlife, that he may have been unfamiliar with the mathematical concept of zero and that he was certainly unfamiliar with the practical concept of the impossible.


Nowadays we contemplate Khufu’s pyramid and we are flabbergasted by the work, the man-hours pulling and quarrying stones to build such a structure, but we seldom stop to consider the logistics required just to get enough people and resources in one location to even consider the project. Following the upheaval of earlier dynasties, Khufu’s reign was a peaceful and prosperous time for Egypt. The time was ripe for a large scale social organization and standardization of resources required for the implementation of a project of such pharaonic  proportions.  We now estimate that perhaps 20,000 people worked at one time on Khufu’s pyramid.  This large number of people had to be housed, fed, trained, organized, given tools and the basic necessities of life.  It is likely that the organization for the project comprised a number of full time workers who dedicated their entire lives to supervising and planning the building of the pyramid and a number of farmers who only worked on the site while the Nile was in flood.  The workers where efficiently organized into larger groups called phyles (tribe in Greek) and then into smaller subgroups of 10 to 20 workers.  They lived in the village of the Workers, as it has come to be called, and there is evidence that workers ate extremely well judging by the types of animal bones found on the site, and they received the best medical care judging from the healed fractures of workers buried on the site.  The village had to provide the resources and manpower to produce ceramics as well as construction tools (mortar, metal and stone tools), administration functions such as accounting and work/housing assignment, grain storage and religious, medical and mortuary facilities, housing, legislation, transportation and clothing for all the workers and their families.  The scope is daunting, for each necessity met, materials and professionals had to be made available.  A sewer system was built and maintained, potters worked around the clock to provide molds for baking bread, which implies that clay had to be provided by someone, flour, water and yeast for the bread had to come from somewhere, cloth had to be woven and delivered to tailors, cattle and sheep had to be shipped over the river to be slaughtered and cooked, magistrates had to resolve legal suits, priests and tomb builders ministered to the dead and so forth. Each of the activities had to be timely or the entire system would collapse.

Nothing about Khufu was small; everything about him was larger than life.  He achieved immortality and the impossible with his pyramid.  With the only remaining likeness of him, an ivory miniature, Khufu achieved the greatest irony in history: the man responsible for the most colossal monument in the history of humanity is in fact only depicted by the smallest royal Egyptian sculpture ever found.  His pyramid is 481 feet tall while his only existing likeness is a mere 3 inches. What, then is the greatest lesson our current leaders could learn from Khufu? Simply that if you want to achieve immortality and eternal fame, don’t erect statues of yourself in public spaces, build yourself a pyramid.

Today the Village of the Workers is the domain of Egyptologist Mark Lehner who has been working at the site for some years now. Most of what we know we owe to him. Recently the filling of a canal that ran the length of the city has caused water to rise in the site, quickly deteriorating everything.










Lehner and his team backfilled the site with clean sand to protect it from erosion and are now working closer to the Wall of the Crow, which surrounded the ancient town.  Some of the town now lies under a modern cemetery and a soccer field belonging to the city.








The entrance to the Village can be seen on the left side of the Wall of the Crow.

Below are some of the tombs for the pyramid workers. Dr. Hawass, who is not shy about taking credit for all the work that takes place in Giza, is always quick to point out that if the pyramids had been built by slaves, their tombs would never have been located so near the pyramid.  Pyramid workers were free people of significant social rank.





Monday, September 20, 2010

the day the telephone almost never was


The fated historic moment is before us, a voice is heard saying:
“Mr. Watson -- come here -- I want to see you."
There is a pause and everything becomes silent. Alexander Graham Bell becomes a little disoriented and his surrounding a little hazy. A nasal voice comes over the wire:
“Hello? Mr. Bell?”
“Yes, I’m Alexander Graham Bell, who is this? What is going on?
The woman’s voice responds “Ah, Mr. Bell, yes, this is Marcy with your new ice delivery company, we have opened a new branch in your neighborhood.”
Bell, now a little dizzy “What, where am I?”
Marcy continues in a monotone voice “Mr. Bell I’m calling to know whether you are happy with your current ice delivery service. Is this a good time for you, I could call back some other time, what time is good for you?”
Bell shuffles his feet to adjust his balance, he looks that the invention before him. “This is not possible, it’s impossible”
Marcy’s monotone voice continues as if reading from a book “impossible… yes. Well, here at IcePick we try to make everything possible for you. Would you be interested in trying our ice for a week for half price? We have the coldest ice in the market.”
Bell, momentarily surrenders to the surreal and responds “No, no ice, I don’t understand what’s happening…”
Marcy continues: “We all need ice Mr. Bell, don’t turn down this great offer before you’ve heard what we are giving you. If you buy a one year service today I can give you a 30% discount and if you act now you get a free ice pick for picking IcePick. The free ice pick is yours to keep even if you decide to cancel your ice deliveries. You get to keep it forever, a free gift for trying our services…” Marcy’s voice trails off babbling something about a price guarantee.

Graham Bell’s eyes regain focus and he sees Mr. Watson storming into the room congratulating him and grabbing their coats to set off immediately to the patent office. Alexander Graham Bell sits down, rests his head on his hands and slowly answers: “We first have to stop by the church, I have a terrible feeling I should pray for my immortal soul before I patent this invention…”

Sunday, September 5, 2010

god is actually a dog

What if god is actually a dog? Think about it.  Every religion has the unmitigated egocentricity to claim god created man in his own image.  I’m proposing a different theory, god is a dog.  He created dogs in his own image and humans were created just so dogs would have people.

God looked down one day and thought the world was perfect, dogs were perfect, but some dogs were better than others. The best dogs were more faithful to god than bad dogs.  God decided that good dogs should be rewarded, they should be pampered and loved, so god created humans to serve those dogs.  The better the dog, the better a human he got. Stray and abused dogs are undeserving in the eyes of god and therefore don't get a home and a human.

And following Fox News logic, and in honor of Genn Beck's dog given intelligence,  I shall prove my theory by offering this irrefutable evidence (imagine this on a blackboard):

G-O-D backwards is D-O-G! Coincidence?  I think not!

Friday, September 3, 2010

The space between Julianne Moore’s thighs

I was pondering titles for this blog and that one made me laugh, so shamelessly and unabashedly, there it is.

Bulgari came out with some billboards featuring a scantily clad Julienne Moore surrounded by icons of the exotic and luxurious. I’m not Bulgari’s target audience and so in daily life I am as aware of their existence as they are of mine, and I am as concerned for their advertising as they are for my breakfast choices. Zilch! However, an article caught my eye, not because of Bulgari but rather because it commented on the reluctance of Venice’s mayor to post a Bulgai billboard on the Doge’s Palace. Since no billboard belongs anywhere near the Doge's Palace I clicked on the article and found an image of Julianne Moore reclined on a divan, naked, petting two lion cubs. Nudity doesn’t offend me. The current trend to airbrush women into distorted unrecognizable mutants does.
In this image, Julianne Moore’s thighs don’t meet! In order for her knees to meet at the angle portrayed in this picture, her pelvis would have to be a meter wide! What’s more, lion cubs don’t smile! The image prompted me to look at the other images in the series.


In this shot Julienne Moore had managed to show the camera the back of her left shoulder and the front of her hair draped right shoulder. Either Mrs. Moore counts contortionist among her many talents and charms, or she broke her collar bone and dislocated both shoulders for the shoot. What dedication!
How exactly does distorting women help to sell luxury products? I may not be the target audience for these ads. But I defy anyone looking at an image of a woman with two dislocated shoulders, a broken collar bone and missing the lower three vertebrae of her spine to think “wow, I need a new $3,000 purse”.

It makes you wonder if people who pay $7,000 for a purse have such a distorted image of the world that they actually prefer to see distorted people in advertising...

P.S what the hell is going on with her right hand? The bird is sitting on her right thumb and an unnatural growth on the palm of her hand.  It looks like she suffers from mild elephantiasis on her right hand, strange that we never noticed that in her movies.... good grief!