Folks, meet Ah Be Ignorant. We’ll call her Abby, and I will reveal nothing else about her except her own words. On a website which won’t be named and isn’t the one I fled in droves, Abby and I both read an article about an archeolgical dig that discovered a man’s remains from The Copper Age (about 5000 years ago). Our prehistoric gent was buried facing to the left, with a number of jars and pots.
No big deal? Well, burial rituals were very serious business back then, and that burial position and accoutrements were reserved exclusively for women. Tabloids screamed: “GAY CAVEMAN FOUND!” and scientists went all a-dither. While this is an interesting discovery, you simply can’t tell someone’s sexual orientation by what they were buried in. We’re sure based on the age of the bones that he wasn’t a “caveman,” and we can’t tell for sure if he was gay.
On the smirking site for old people, the findings were published as just that – interesting, perhaps as an indicator of social acceptance for different gender expressions. We know that “third-gender” is a concept recognized by anthropologists. Except for Abby.
Abby wrote: Glad I’m sitting down, because I would have fallen over laughing.
Really, Abby? The very idea of gay people existing over the span of time is funny? The idea that the manner of burial suggests something is absurd?
So I looked at her picture, and without taking into account the glazed look in the dead raisins of her eyes or the way her doughy face cracked open to reveal a roll of stale Mentos melting in the sun of a Murfreesboro parking lot, and without considering the fact that her dog looks like a Hell-o-Lab rather than a Yellow one, I wrote:
I hope they’re sitting down in 3011 when they dig you up and find Fido and a jar of Skippy peanut butter.
Naturally, the author of the article deleted my comment, but not before Abby responded: I’ve never eaten peanut butter in my life and if they want to dig me up, I won’t give a flying fig!
I suppose I should have been more graphic. But I did sign in as Heywood Jablowme, so I had to draw a line.
I am this close to being a degreed librarian and I’d be remiss to not highlight the damn excellent work done by libraries and librarians all over the world. And so a series on digital collections is in order, don’t you think? Digital collections offer a way to share rare knowledge and primary resources to anybody with Internet access. What used to only be available to scholars who could get to the physical space is now freely accessible on the Web. It is, when done correctly and ethically, a beautiful democracy of information. Unfortunately for my lazy ass, there are so many fantastic digital library collections available on the Web that it’s hard to know where to start. Instead of focusing on one or two collections this week, I’ve chosen for our inaugural digital collections post to highlight a few great things from several collections that are related in theme and based on this week in history. (Though don’t depend on me to stick to this format ‘cuz I do what I want.)
This week’s theme is fallen leaders. On April 11, 1814, Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled to Elba–his second-to-last exile; how many people can you say that about? And on April 14, 1865, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated by a mentally unstable actor (is there any other kind?). Let’s start with the great bearded one, shall we?
Abraham Lincoln’s Assassination
It’s hard not to get excited by the assassination of one of our greatest presidents, especially one surrounded by whispers of homosexuality and such fantastic facial hair. Alas! The Library of Congress (which is, contrary to common “knowledge,” not the national library of the United States) has several digital collections dedicated to our great emancipator.
Here we have a photograph taken on April 27, 1865 of Abraham Lincoln’s railroad funeral car. I implore you to go to the website and look at the full-size pdf. It’s quite beautiful.
The Railroad car photo is just a small part of a large and interactive collection available on the Library of Congress’ website that follows the journey of this train car from Washington, D.C. to Springfield, Lincoln’s hometown. You can check it in flash or HTML, which, if I may go on a bit of a tangent, is part of librarianship’s devotion to access. Not everyone has high-speed Internet, you snob.
Next we have a short video that showcases what Lincoln was carrying in his pockets on the night of his assassination. Kind of spooky, when you think about it. If I were assassinated, people would find Burt’s Bees lip balm and extra bobby pins in my pockets. So very memorable, hmm?
Finally, we have a hand-written draft of Frederick Douglass’ eulogy for Abraham Lincoln. He writes, “Abraham Lincoln, while unsurpassed in his devotion to the welfare of the white race, was also in a sense hitherto without example, emphatically, the black mans President: the first to show any respect to their rights as men.” Frederick Douglass: Master of the Backhanded Eulogy Compliment.
There are a wealth of digital collections and individual digital artifacts to be found on this specific topic (including the weird photo “Dramatization of Pursuit of John Wilkes Booth and His Conspirators“–the precursor to 48 Hours?), and of broader concern to Abraham Lincoln, but who has time for that? LC’s Civil War and Reconstruction page is a good place to start if you’re interested in some more sexy Abe resources.
Napoleon’s Exile to Elba
Brown University has a fantastic collection of Napoleonic satire. I mean, look at this one of Napoleon and president Madison looking angrily at one another while sitting on their “pots” (*giggle*):
Thankfully, toilet technology and etiquette has improved in the past 200 years.
I’m also fond of Départ pour L’Isle D’Elbe and An Imperial Vomit. Please be sure when you click through to read the full descriptions that if you don’t view the images in full size and zoom in, you’re a damn fool. Be sure of that.
There are, of course, library collections that are sad-making, like McGill University’s Napoleon Collection. A pretty site that boasts the collection’s thousands of materials is surprisingly difficult to navigate. I did a basic, unrestricted search of “Elba” and came up with nothing. But when I went through the subject headings, I was able to come up with several resources with this heading (like this one, with the hilarious frontispiece). Weird, right? I shake my fist that their Technical Services Department.
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If you have any ideas, suggestions, questions, or topic requests about future posts in my library series, feel free to email me at cntinglinguist [at] gmail [dot] com. It is my not-so-humble opinion that everyone should have a librarian in their life.
Memories fade, minds decay, and still we go on with the recording of history. We don’t remember much though. Hell, we forget more about ourselves as we grow old than we do the facts that we’re taught, that we learn and absorb. The episodic memory is faulty because it causes us to add and remove details as we see fit, but what is deemed important enough for history is written down so that we will never forget, even if we almost always forget. Will we know who, say, Madonna is in a hundred years? It’s possible, but we know we can’t name a singer from 1911, nor do we really care. Cher, of course, will be remembered forever because she will never die. We believe she’s strong enough.
From WCRS in Detroit, it’s Life, Death and Violence brought to you by coffee. Coffee, it’s damn good! Join us and Life, Death and Violence Crush Object™ Janice Fronimakis as we delve into Wikipedia and discover the people that we’ve forgotten about. It’s your day in the sun, April 12.
Janice Likes to Think About the Stuff that Society Forgot
LIFE!
(You think someone’s going to care about you when you’re dead? Ha!)
1705: William Cookworthy: Cookworthy? Not according to his wife! He did, however, kill scurvy by telling those saucy seamen to make sure to eat their fruits! The seamen, naturally, misinterpreted his dietary suggestion and continued to succumb to the disease until sometime later. Always carry Trojans and a bottle of orange juice, boys!
He also discovered kaolinite in Cornwall and figured out how to turn it into porcelain, thus allowing the English to make fine bone china. Bilking the Chinese out of their profits? How dare you Cookworthy! In this case, Bill’s surname is apt as he did know how to operate a kiln.
Wikipedia has a whole section dedicated to Cookworthy’s friends. His dinner party guests included James Cook (couldn’t even scramble an egg), John Jervis (there’s no pun here), Doctor Solander (who?) and Joe Banks who is a god in our book for giving us mimosa. Oh wait, upon further review, he found the plant, not the drink. There’s a mimosa plant? Wow, we guess you really do learn something new every day. Maybe the seamen Cookworthy advised invented the mimosa. Hell, maybe that explains all the orange juice. Prevent scurvy! Go to brunch!
You snooze, you lose! English bone china? More like English bone China! Hey-Oh!
DEATH!
(In memoriam: Forever or for thirty days, whichever comes first)
1684: Nicolò Amati: Amati made violins, but no one can name a single luthier (that’s violin-maker) other than Antoni Stradivari, so, better luck next time Nick! Still, Nick’s violins are generally agreed to be the best in his family, at least for modern violinists and who can afford a Stradivarius anyways? Those things cost more than a one bedroom apartment in Chelsea. We’d rather have the apartment and use the savings on an Amati if we played violin. However, we don’t. We started taking lessons briefly after hearing Neon Bible but we didn’t really take it seriously and quit after a month or so.
But wait, there’s more! It seems that Antoni Stradivari was an apprentice of Nick Amati! This isn’t confirmed, but it’s on one of the guy’s violins, so it might be true. He at least liked Nick’s fiddles. Nick Amati: Historical footnote, overshadowed by a student. Isn’t that what we all worry about?
He also taught Andrea Guarneri, but, once again, we must ask, does anyone outside the music world know these names other than Stradivarius? Maybe that’s the key to history. No one is really forgotten, just by those outside their field.
Aw shucks, now we’re starting to get it and so is Janice, who’s so excited about unraveling the threads of time that he’s hopped on a horse and is preparing for war!
Giddyup!
VIOLENCE!
(The blood no one remembers)
238: The Battle of Carthage: Led by the father/son empiric duo of Gordian the First and Gordian the Second, the Romans fell to the Numidians (modern-day Libya). Gordian the Second was killed in battle, and upon hearing the news, Gordian the First, who was 80 at the time, killed himself.
Interestingly enough, the Gordians were only emperor for twenty days and presided over Rome in what is now termed “The Year of Six Emperors” so don’t feel bad about losing that battle Gordie Sr. and Gordie Jr. Everyone had a bad year. At least the Roman Senate made you gods!
Seriously though, even though the blood was shed in vain since we no longer remember you, take solace in the fact that the modern world has exalted another Gordie to the pedestal of divinity. Gordie “Mr. Everything” Howe. Go Wings!
That battle, man. I’m exhausted.
OTHER NEAT STUFF THAT HAPPENED!
(This stuff’s notable)
After that battle, Janice is tired of talking about things that no one remembers anymore. Frankly, we’re tired of it too, so we thought we’d let you guys know that:
In 1606 the Union Jack became the official flag of Great Britain.
Unfortunately, that didn’t help Galileo. Italy’s formal inquest into his heretical science stuff began in 1633. Oh, the Inquisition!
In 1861, the Confederacy fired on Fort Sumter, sparking the Civil War.
And in 1917, Canada took some German land during World War One. Wait, Canada has an army?
1955: The polio vaccine is certified safe!
Too bad it came too late for FDR who died exactly ten years earlier in 1945.
1961: Bang! Zoom! Straight to the moon! Or, well, at least to orbit as Yuri Gagarin becomes the first man in space. No one will ever remember a single other Russian cosmonaut.
1992: EURODISNEY!
Bill Clinton is cited for contempt of court for not knowing what the meaning of ‘is’ is in 1999
And last, but not least, Zimbabwe abandoned their money in 2009! It’s not like it was worth anything anyways. We’re quattuordecillionaires by their standards.
That’s all folks! Until next time: Don’t worry, you’ll forget everything bad in twenty years! Drink up. We’re going to go take a nap outside with Janice now. Bye!
Simple to present yet not so easy to solve, this elegant exchange between Voltaire and his friend and patron Frederick the Great of Prussia is one of the cleverest surviving puzzles borne of a playful and philosophical friendship between a King and a commoner.
Frederick the Great of Prussia who admired above all the Enlightenment's greatest thinker, Voltaire.
… At Sanssouci Frederick entertained his most privileged guests, especially the French philosopher Voltaire, whom he asked in 1750 to come to live with him. The correspondence between Frederick and Voltaire, which spanned almost 50 years, was marked by mutual intellectual fascination. In person, however, their friendship was often contentious, as Voltaire abhorred Frederick’s militarism. Voltaire’s angry attack on Maupertuis, the President of Frederick’s academy, provoked Frederick to burn the pamphlet publicly and put Voltaire under house arrest. Voltaire was accused by some of anonymously publishing The Private Life of the King of Prussia, wittily claiming Frederick’s homosexuality and parade of male lovers, after he’d left Prussia. Frederick neither admitted nor denied the contents of the book, nor ever accused Voltaire of having written it. Some years later, Voltaire and Frederick resumed their correspondence and eventually aired their mutual recriminations, to end as friends once more.”
“There is no proof that Voltaire ever had a homosexual experience. Most of the evidence for his occasional homosexuality in the four-volume biography by Roger Peyrefitte is fabricated. The story that Voltaire once had sexual relations with a Prussian soldier as an experiment, only to decline a second experience with the quip ‘Once a philosopher, twice a sodomite,’ is certainly apocryphal. He attended the Jesuit college of Louis-le-Grand as a boy, and while visiting England years later reportedly remarked, ‘Oh! those damned Jesuits… ar**d me to such a degree that I shall never get over it as long as I live,’ but he was probably being facetious.”
In any case, getting back to our puzzle, der Grosse Freddy and his philosophically-minded homey exchanged quips, puns, and invitation frequently—unless they were squabbling—and this is one of the cleverer among them.
In the first box, Frederick’s invitation:
In the second, Voltaire’s reply:
So have at it, my friends and commenters. It remains unclear what the winner, if there is a winner, will win. But it will be somehow appropriate.
Scotland and Ireland. Two places you probably know nothing much about. But in this week of St Paddy – try not to get them mixed up. Especially if you want to befriend a native on March 17th.
Don’t look to Hollywood. They are the source of Scotireland. They cannot tell the difference particularly with accent. It is just one of many things Hollywood gets things wrong all the time. Hence Scotland’s Gerard Butler (apparently of Irish stock like many from Glasgow) apologised for doing a shitty ‘Irish’ accent in PS I Love You. Quite rightly. I don’t know if Liam Neeson did the same did the same for Rob Roy – but he should. However, next to Jessica Lange in that movie – he was Meryl Streep. Piss-poor accents bring natives out in hives (e.g. Braveheart).
However – I think we in the Old World should be more generous. Internal cultural nuances are tricky for everyone. People in North America never get to hear actual authentic accents – apart from Craig Ferguson. And many still think he is Irish. Perhaps it is time to admit – to the untrained ear, Scots and Irish do sound a bit similar.
And here is why – both countries have considerable overlap. It is easy to mix-up at times. Some parts of Ireland are heavily influenced by Scotland and vice versa. But if you wander in from outside – how are you to know? A bit of history might help illustrate why.
The Irish in Scotland
Scotland can be divided basically into various crude units. Western Scotland and the Islands being one. Another is other is Lowland Scotland. Third is Eastern and the far North Scotland. Each component is different in some way such as geography or political allegiances and historical language. However, you can say that Lowlanders stem from the ancient Kingdoms of the Britons (various tribes who spoke a language similar to Welsh before and during the Roman Occupation – 39 to 410 AD) and that Eastern & North Scotland come from the 7 Kingdoms of the Picts.
To be honest – we don’t know that much about the Picts other than even the Romans considered them insular and warlike. The Pictish language and culture is mostly very mysterious – but was probably a native language of ancient Britain called Brythonic as seen in the place names. Modern Welsh and Breton are Brythonic languages and are rather similar. The Picts left behind some enigmatic stone carvings and one book full of Kingly names and not much else. Some fanciful theories about their origins are unproven and IMO rubbish. Anyone who has been to Aberdeen knows same folks are still there.
What we do know is that some 1500 years ago – Pictland and the Lowland Kingdoms regularly made war (and marriage!) with each other and their neighbours in the West. The West and the Islands were colonised during this era by incomers from Ireland. The Scoti and then the Gaels (rhymes with dales). The Gaels formed a kingdom called Dál Riata (Dol Re’ada). This is where the Irish influence comes from in Western Scotland. The language of the Gaels is still spoken today and is called Scots Gaelic (pronounced Gah-lack – Gay-lick is Ireland). They are sort of Irish-Scots. And their word for Scotland is Alba.
What many see as Scottish folk costume is actually called ‘Highland dress’ – meaning kilts, small harps (called clarsachs), names starting in Mc/Mac and bagpipes are more the legacy of the Gaels. They have them in Ireland too – just in a different form. People still play Shinty, which is similar to Irish Hurling. Teuchter (chyuchter) is a popular word for basically a hillbilly but original meant Gaelic-speaker. Although tartan (not called plaid BTW – a plaid rhymes with maid is the shoulder shawl in Highland dress) is a very old tradition found across the ancient Celtic world. The ancient Gauls of France wore tartan in the Iron Age but were famous for wearing trousers. In Scotland they are called breeks.
People in the Lowlands have never worn kilts or spoke Gaelic. Their language Scots is a form of English with a very strong Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian influence from over the North Sea. Some dialect words are basically the same in Nordic languages and German today – like heme (home), coo (cow) and ken (to know – like ‘Kennen Sie?/Do you know?’ in Deutsch). The Lowlanders were once part of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Northumbria – which stretched halfway to London and was before ‘England’ even existed. .
Don’t expect to remember all this – it is a lot to digest.
The Scots in Ireland
Fast forward to the 16th century AD. With the arrival of Protestantism during the Reformation – many people from mainland Britain move over to Ireland to start plantations. The King of Scotland James VI lead the way when he gave land confiscated from local chieftains to incomers. Settlers from England are Anglican and bring with them the Episcopal faith – which eventually becomes the Church of Ireland. The Scots settlers bring their more extreme Calvinist faith – called Presbyterianism and even changed the linguistic map. These are the people called Scots-Irish and eventually go to America. They are successful in the New World because of community fortitude and ability to survive in harsh plantation conditions learned in Ulster. They have many descendants including 18 Presidents.
Calvinism and Roman Catholicism are very much at odds – culturally and theologically. So Catholicism is essentially banned in Britain and Ireland from the 16th to 19th century. Heavy restrictions are imposed such as denial of land and voting rights. BTW English Calvinists from elsewhere are called Puritans. In the early 17th century, the people of England ( to some extent Scotland) decided to kill their king (Charles I) and impose an ultra-religious Puritan state called The Commonwealth. Oliver Cromwell was the dictator and his treatment of the native Irish Catholics is utterly horrific. People still shudder at his name today.
The King (Charles II) comes back eventually but when his Catholic brother James II inherits – there is a ‘Glorious Rebellion’. Supporters of the King are called Jacobites – including Catholic Ireland. The Scots-Irish support his rival and brother-in-law – Prince William of Orange from the Netherlands. They win at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690 and this is why Ulster Protestants – or Loyalists – use Orange as a motif for their various social religious societies. In honour of King Billy – see picture.
Ireland is controlled by the minority in what is called ‘The Protestant Ascendancy’ till independence in the early 20th century. Northern Ireland is still split on the religious grounds to this day – the basis for ‘The Troubles’ (which cannot be covered in this article). Half the 6 counties are ‘Orange’ (and identify as ethnically British) and the other half are ‘Green’ (Republican – mostly Catholic but not always as some Church of Ireland individuals are very much neutral). This is why Ireland is a bit Scottish.
So there you have it. It’s all a bit mixed up and full of old wounds and hatreds. No wonder you are confused. I hope I have cleared things up a bit.
70 summers ago, a beautiful young woman’s lifeless body washed up on the sugary sands of the Long Island beach town that I currently call home. Her name was Starr Faithfull, and she was 25 years old. What follows is what we know, and what we don’t know.
Long Beach, NY, is a small jewel of a city on a barrier island off Long Island’s South Shore. It has wonderful restaurants, a state-of-the-art library, and a proudly diverse population. Its cleanliness and proximity to New York City draw droves of tourists in the summer months, and even in the winter it bustles with activity. There are flowers and trees everywhere you look. It’s the kind of place people dream about living in. And people really come here for the miles of white sand and glittering waves.
70 years ago, things were slightly different. Everything was new. 1920s Long Beach was just getting started as a fashionable beach community, with hundreds of Spanish Revival white stucco mansions and bungalows with red tile roofing, as required by the zoning code. Grand hotels lined the boardwalk, and every type of amusement from golf, to tennis, to horseback riding was available. Prohibition was largely a joke here, and it was a flapper’s paradise. Starr must have enjoyed it – as much as she was able to.
But to really understand Starr, we have to go back still further – almost 100 years – to 1917, when she was just 11. Unfortunately, by all accounts, Starr’s parents frequently left her in the care of her middle-aged cousin Andrew Peters, then mayor of Boston. He later became a congressman and was quite famous, even serving as Woodrow Wilson’s Assistant Secretary Of The Treasury. He would have been infamous if anyone suspected what he was doing to his 11 year old cousin. He was giving her ether to break down her resistance to his molestation of her.
Like many children in this situation, Starr became withdrawn and reclusive. She even tried dressing like a boy to divert his interest. This failed and the molestation continued for years.
Upon being caught in 1924, Peters paid Starr’s family hush money to protect his career, and they took it. That was it for Starr. She began going to speakeasies and taking cruises to Europe – sometimes not really planning them, but just showing up on board to bon voyage party and simply staying when the ship left. She continued to abuse inhalants and barbiturates.
On May 29, 1931, a drunken Starr was forcibly removed from the Franconia, screaming “Kill me!” and “Throw me overboard!” . On June 5, 1931, her family saw her for the last time, and had reason to suspect that she had sneaked aboard the Mauretania, which was bound for the Bahamas.
On June 8, 1931, her body washed ashore on Long Beach. She was wearing a black and white summer dress from Lord & Taylor with nothing underneath, and her body was badly bruised.
There were several suicidal notes written by Starr, and one was to a doctor on whom she had a crush. There was also a diary detailing Starr’s wild life, including assignations with 19 men and a veiled reference to her cousin. The primitive toxicology reports showed her liver to be full of Veronal, a powerful barbiturate. Although initially suspicious, Nassau County detectives were inclined to leave the case there.
But Starr’s stepfather accused the Nassau County DA of dragging his heels for political capital. Back then, this was more than plausible. He produced – too late – the $20,000 check from Andrew Peters and the 1927 agreement to hold Peters harmless for molesting Starr when she was 11. He accused various political figures of having Starr murdered.
Peters had a nervous breakdown at his office in Boston. The New York Daily News uncovered that Mr. Faithfull was nearly broke and had gone to Boston to get more money from Peters a few days before Starr disappeared. And the Nassau County Police Department held an inquest, which lasted 15 minutes and drew no conclusions.
We’ll never know what happened to this tragic young woman in her final moments. But I hope she found peace. When I’m out on the Atlantic at night and I see the lights of Long Beach come into view, I wonder which ship she was really on, who she was with, what her final thoughts were. It’s easy to feel lonely at sea, even with so many people so close by.
Among the non-fiction books dealing were her death are: “The Aspirin Age” by Morris Markey (1944); “The Girl on the Lonely Beach” by Fred Cook (1954); and “The Passing of Starr Faithfull” by Jonathan Goodman (1996). Her life has been the subject of fiction in a number of novels including: “Some Unknown Person” by Sandra Scoppettone (1977) and “The Memory Book of Starr Faithfull” by Gloria Vanderbilt (1994). On Broadway her life was dramatized in the play, “Courting Mae West” by Linda-Ann Loschiavo (2005).
In 1935, the famous American author John O’Hara wrote a novel on Starr but changed her name to Gloria to avoid being sued by the Faithfull family. In 1960, the novel was made into one of Hollywood’s most famous films, “Butterfield 8.” In this movie the Academy Award was given to Elizabeth Taylor for her portrayal of Starr Faithfull. – Derry Times
Words are powerful things. Simply changing one word in a sentence can completely change its meaning and how listeners understand what is being discussed. Nowhere is this more evident than in the recounting of history. As collective memory fades and ultimately disappears with the passage of time, it becomes all the more important to challenge (and correct) modern day retellings of historic events that have been shaded and reframed over time to the point that today’s narrative could, and should, be labeled a lie of omission, if not commission. What am I talking about? This. “The Civil War was about State’s rights, not about slavery.”
Of course the Civil War was about states’ rights. That statement, in and of itself, is true. Or rather, true, but incomplete and, in its incompleteness, substantively false in its modern presentation. The incompleteness rests in the obvious question this statement raises: the seceding states’ right to do what?
To answer this question, I am not going to give my view or that of historians and commentators, but rather, am going to present the actual statements and justifications of the seceding states and the subsequently formed Confederate States of America. This information seems particularly timely given that yesterday, March 11th, was the 150th anniversary of the adoption of the Confederate Constitution by the Confederate Congress. The Confederate Constitution was very similar to the original US Constitution. However, as explained by Professor of History, Stephanie McCurry: “there were, however, a few significant changes. They purged the text of all of the ambivalences, compromises and hedges about slavery, representation and the power of the federal government that had plagued the republic since the founding.”
If the actual Confederate Constitution does not settle the question of how important maintaining the institution of slavery was to the seceding states, let’s look at a couple of the Declarations of the Causes of Seceding States that preceded the drafting of the Confederate Constitution.
Mississippi (Adopted January 9, 1861): In the momentous step which our State has taken of dissolving its connection with the government of which we so long formed a part, it is but just that we should declare the prominent reasons which have induced our course.
Our position is thoroughly identified with the institution of slavery– the greatest material interest of the world. Its labor supplies the product which constitutes by far the largest and most important portions of commerce of the earth. These products are peculiar to the climate verging on the tropical regions, and by an imperious law of nature, none but the black race can bear exposure to the tropical sun. These products have become necessities of the world, and a blow at slavery is a blow at commerce and civilization. That blow has been long aimed at the institution, and was at the point of reaching its consummation. There was no choice left us but submission to the mandates of abolition, or a dissolution of the Union, whose principles had been subverted to work out our ruin.
Georgia (Adopted January 29, 1861): The people of Georgia having dissolved their political connection with the Government of the United States of America, present to their confederates and the world the causes which have led to the separation. For the last ten years we have had numerous and serious causes of complaint against our non-slave-holding confederate States with reference to the subject of African slavery. They have endeavored to weaken our security, to disturb our domestic peace and tranquility, and persistently refused to comply with their express constitutional obligations to us in reference to that property …
The people of Georgia have ever been willing to stand by this bargain, this contract; they have never sought to evade any of its obligations; they have never hitherto sought to establish any new government; they have struggled to maintain the ancient right of themselves and the human race through and by that Constitution. But they know the value of parchment rights in treacherous hands, and therefore they refuse to commit their own to the rulers whom the North offers us. Why? Because by their declared principles and policy they have outlawed $3,000,000,000 of our property in the common territories of the Union; put it under the ban of the Republic in the States where it exists and out of the protection of Federal law everywhere; because they give sanctuary to thieves and incendiaries who assail it to the whole extent of their power, in spite of their most solemn obligations and covenants; because their avowed purpose is to subvert our society and subject us not only to the loss of our property but the destruction of ourselves, our wives, and our children, and the desolation of our homes, our altars, and our firesides. To avoid these evils we resume the powers which our fathers delegated to the Government of the United States, and henceforth will seek new safeguards for our liberty, equality, security, and tranquility.
Texas (Adopted Feb. 2, 1861): We hold as undeniable truths that the governments of the various States, and of the confederacy itself, were established exclusively by the white race, for themselves and their posterity; that the African race had no agency in their establishment; that they were rightfully held and regarded as an inferior and dependent race, and in that condition only could their existence in this country be rendered beneficial or tolerable.
That in this free government all white men are and of right ought to be entitled to equal civil and political rights; that the servitude of the African race, as existing in these States, is mutually beneficial to both bond and free, and is abundantly authorized and justified by the experience of mankind, and the revealed will of the Almighty Creator, as recognized by all Christian nations; while the destruction of the existing relations between the two races, as advocated by our sectional enemies, would bring inevitable calamities upon both and desolation upon the fifteen slave-holding states.…
For these and other reasons, solemnly asserting that the federal constitution has been violated and virtually abrogated by the several States named, seeing that the federal government is now passing under the control of our enemies to be diverted from the exalted objects of its creation to those of oppression and wrong, and realizing that our own State can no longer look for protection, but to God and her own sons– We the delegates of the people of Texas, in Convention assembled, have passed an ordinance dissolving all political connection with the government of the United States of America and the people thereof…
In presenting these statements, I do not want to suggest that northern Yankees should assert any claim to moral superiority. Indeed, the current mistruths about the North and Slavery are just as problematic and dishonest. But, let’s all be clear about one thing. The next time you hear someone claim that the Civil War was about states’ rights and not about slavery, please correct those to two little words: It was about the states’ rights to continue slavery.
The maxim that everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day seems counter-intuitive for a holiday celebrating a Brythonic Briton from what is present-day England. The inconsistencies regarding both the man and the myths surrounding him only start there. Continue reading →
Correction: Though the observations below were correct at the time of writing, they have now been rendered somewhat moot as Jezebel acknowledged International Women’s Day in an article posted at 12:35 P.M. My apologies.
In what must have surely been a lack of judgment borne of caffeine deficiency, I checked Jezebel for the first time in months this morning to see if they’d have a post about the 100th anniversary of International Women’s Day, seeing as how they are supposedly a feminist blog. The sound of crickets was as palpable as it was predictable, though they did have some lovely posts about Lily Allen’s eating disorder and how sharing photos on Facebook affects your self-image.
But I’m not here to compare Western feminism to the late Roman Empire or lament its decadent decline into a trendy and degenerate blogosphere variety that is devoid of any sense of history or intellectual underpinnings and relies mainly on shallow sarcasm and a fixation on policing the most vapid aspects of our culture as an attempt to justify and intellectualize one’s interest in them. Because today is not about that. Today is about the achievements of women worldwide, and the serious struggles many of them still face.
To say it’s ironic that many in the United States have never heard of this holiday would be an understatement. For although the first official celebration of International Working Women’s Day took place in 1911 across several German-speaking nations, its origins lie in the National Women’s Day organized and celebrated by the Socialist Party of America in 1909. Rosalind Rosenberg, a history professor at Barnard College traces it back even earlier, to a protest held on March 8, 1908 by 15,000 female garment workers in New York City’s Lower East Side. It was in 1910, at an international women’s conference in Copenhagen, that the day acquired its international character.
As the holiday gained recognition and popularity across Eastern Europe, particularly in the newly established USSR, it quickly lost ground in the United States, first with the unpopularity of the Socialist Party’s opposition to US participation in World War I, and later when the Red Scare made the word “Socialism” into anathema. But even in the Soviet Union, where I grew up, the socialist character of “8 Marta” was never in the forefront – at least no more than it was in any of our other holidays. Rather, we mainly celebrated it as an all-around “Women’s Day” – Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day rolled into one. But we also remembered the unimaginable sacrifices and hardships our mothers and grandmothers had endured during World War II and their invaluable contributions to our victory.
"Day of Women's Uprising Against Kitchen Slavery"
International Women’s Day was not formally recognized in the United States until it was established by the UN in the 1970’s, and even since then, it has barely registered on the radar. However, on the eve of today’s centennial celebration, President Obama not only called on Americans to observe the day, but proclaimed the entire month of March to be Women’s History Month. On the same day, Secretary of State Clinton launched the “100 Women Initiative”, gathering 100 women from 92 countries for a three-week professional exchange program in the US.
It is as important today as on any other day to take note of the injustices that still keep one-half of the world’s population in a subordinate state. But in light of recent events in Wisconsin and Ohio, I think it is also particularly relevant to remember this holiday’s origins as International Working Women’s Day, and to stand against the obstacles that workers – especially female workers – face in their struggles for a more just and equal society.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go call my mom, and then my grandma.
From WCRS Detroit and Public Snark International, this is Life, Death and Violence. Every week on our program we choose a theme and research a number of people and events that fit that theme. Today on Life, Death and Violence: Paradise. Imagine, for a moment, if you will, that paradise is exactly where you are right now, only much, much better. This is the land in which we will be traveling to today. Paradise though, is merely a dream, a hope, and, naturally we’ll be discussing the very nature of hopes and dreams today as well. I had a dream last night. I dreamt that I was about to be murdered in old Tiger Stadium, but, at the last minute, I was saved by this week’s Life, Death and Violence Crush Object™, Diana Rigg.
Diana entered from the visiting dugout, dressed, obviously, as Mrs. Emma Peel in a bright orange jumpsuit. She shot my attacker’s knife out of his hand and proceeded to dispatch him in a brief battle in hand to hand combat. Diana and I then rode out of Old Tiger Stadium on a beautiful white stallion which we rode across the pond and into Paris.
It seemed like an instant, that ride, and I found myself transported from urban decay to a quiet little cafe in Montmarte drinking coffee delivered by our waiter, a centaur. The centaur began to tell a long story, which I will summarize in brief. His utopian home had been ravaged by humanoid goats and all the centaurs were forced into exile by the king of the goats, a potbellied pig named Phillip. Our waiter, Brian, then took my name and number when I asked if there was anything I could do to help and Diana and I each received a letter shortly after enlisting us as Generals in the Centaur Army. We went to Centauristan, kicked some goat butt, made delicious bacon out of Phillip and returned the land to the centaurs. Brian, for enlisting us who saved the nation, was named King and we all had a champagne toast in their golden palace. I woke up just as my gift from the centaurs, Joseph Gordon Levitt, leaned in to kiss me. I hate dreams. They always shatter.
Our show today, in four acts.
Act One: Trouble in Paradise: She was on top of the world, but found herself ready to snap.
Act Two: The Fulfillment of Dreams: The story of a writer who hit the big time and stayed there.
Act Three: The Death of Dreams: A disastrous failure shocks the nation.
Act Four: The Birth of Dreams: How one nation’s discovery changed the world, but was it for the worse?
Act One: Trouble in Paradise
The Carpenters: Top of the World
I remember, being a little kid in Metro Detroit, when I heard my first Carpenters song. I was, maybe, four, and having trouble going to sleep. I’d gone to sleep for a little bit, but had had a nightmare and was too afraid to try again. I called out for my mother around 1AM. She got me a glass of water and sang me “Close to You,” which calmed me down enough to fall back into the land of good dreams, where the impossible becomes possible and everything is made of rainbows. The next morning, I asked my mother to sing the song for me again, but, instead, she pulled out a vinyl copy of the Close to You album and played it for me while she got ready for work. At the time, she was working the afternoon shift at the local hospital, so my sister and I got to see her in the morning as our days were starting, which I really liked. I wasn’t in preschool at the time. I’d dropped out because the other kids were being mean to me and I had massive separation anxiety. Karen Carpenter’s voice reminded me of my mother, even though my mother didn’t sing nearly as well, so I played that record over and over and over again. We got rid of it a few years later when my parents switched from vinyl and tape over to compact disc, but it was fairly well worn anyways. Who knows how much longer it would have lasted.
The devastation felt when I found out Karen Carpenter had died before I was born was heartwrenching. I wasn’t blind. I understood from the copyright on the album that the record was released in 1970, but the girl on it looked so young. She couldn’t possibly be dead. People only die when they’re old. Such is the naivete of youth, I suppose. And when I found out she died because, as I understood it, her heart stopped, I was even more confused and all my mother would say was that Karen stopped eating. My mother doesn’t eat a lot, so I didn’t really understand that. Why had she stopped eating? Was she on a diet? Why would she be on a diet? She looked pretty. I was too young to understand media blitzkrieg, so I just sat there for years questioning what happened to Karen Carpenter.
Karen left my thoughts and my music collection for about a decade, until I found myself in New York City. It was big, scary, unknown. I felt alone. I didn’t know anybody. I was living with strangers I’d met on Craigslist and had planned to get an apartment with since they were moving out of theirs. After that plan fell through (which I find to be the worst thing to happen to me: a true 3br with a fireplace and a big kitchen, lots of light and in a pre-war building for 1400/month fully furnished was lost because one of the girls I was going to live with decided Bed Stuy was too dangerous for her and she’d find another apartment for 450/month elsewhere. As if, woman. I was too weak and insecure to find two other people to take the apartment with me and I ended up in a bedbug ridden hellhole in Sunset Park before moving into the dorms at Pratt Institute), Karen came back into my life. I was depressed and lonely, feeling the peak of my suicidal wishes. Rainy Days and Mondays, I decided, was what I’d kill myself to. It wasn’t a very happy time, until, I started re-listening to the happier music, going out and feeling better about myself. I can’t say that Karen Carpenter saved my life, but she did play a part in making me feel sane again, even if that sanity is still frequently challenged. I’m grateful for that, and I’m grateful that even though I didn’t get the chance to ever see her live since she died before my birth, that at least there’s a recording of her voice in every record store across America. The voice of an angel ready to change another person’s life, ready to make the world seem full of hopes, dreams and possibilities yet again, even in our darkest hour.
The Carpenters: Close to You
Act Two: The Fulfillment of Dreams
Today is the deathday of famed comic book artist Hergé. I first wanted to start writing watching the adventures of his famed Parisian journalist, Tin Tin and his dog, snowy. Let’s watch some of it together.
That Tin-Tin! Always getting into some sort of misadventure. This must be what it’s like to work for the New York Times! Right?
Act Three: The Death of Dreams
I wasn’t born during the Challenger Incident. It predated me by three years, but I did feel a closeness to the incident once I’d found out that our middle school principal, the only principal I’ve ever liked, whose name was, and if I’m lying about this may the Flying Spaghetti Monster strike me dead, Dr. Freeze, was one of the runner-ups for the Teacher in Space program. Someone I knew could have been killed in a massive space-oriented explosion, which horrified me as a space-obsessed tween who’d gone to Space Camp a few years earlier. This event was revisited shortly after the attacks on 9/11, which, naturally, my awful middle school neglected to tell us about causing me to come home all happy-go-lucky because soccer practice was cancelled and I really didn’t want to go to soccer practice that day. My sister, in response, snarled at me viciously and directed my attention to the television. It felt weird to watch an explosion over and over and over again and I got the sense that this is what my parents were doing in ’86, not knowing that someone they would soon know was almost on that shuttle. This week wasn’t the 25th Anniversary of the explosion, that was a few months ago. Instead it contains an even sadder bit of emotional violence: The discovery of the crew cabin in the Atlantic Ocean.
These “what if” fascinations haunted me for quite some time, especially once the Columbia shuttle exploded on reentry. I kept thinking to myself. What would I do if someone I knew died in an explosion that was plastered all over national television? How would I react? I never came up with an answer, simply because I understood that I couldn’t empathize with anyone involved in such an incident if it didn’t happen to me. I could sympathize. I could say “I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m here if you need me,” but I couldn’t say “I understand. It’s going to be okay,” because I didn’t understand, I didn’t know if it would be okay. Months later, I experienced my first death, that of my grandfather/puzzle partner. Even then, I still felt I couldn’t empathize with a death so sudden. My grandfather had been ill for months from lung cancer and we weren’t surprised when he finally passed. I think that, as crushed as she was, it was a bit of a relief for my grandmother. That year was very stressful in my family because of my grandfather’s rapidly deteriorating health, but if he had died in, say, a car crash, things would have been a lot different. The mourning would have lasted much longer, just as I’m certain that Christa McAuliffe’s family is still morning her loss, after that fireball in the sky, and having a record of her exact moment of death on hand has to be a surefire way to make it impossible to move on. For that reason, as easy as it may be to post, I’m opting to not post a video of the Challenger Disaster. I’m not going to promote the fetishization of death. All those disasters and space misadventures though did nothing to halt my love of space and desire to be an astronaut. That’s the responsibility of my complete hatred of Algebra 2 which led to my complete hate of Chemistry which led me into the arts.
S Club 7: Reach For the Stars
Act Four: The Birth of Dreams
In 1938, Saudi Arabia discovered oil in its borders, launching the 20th Century Mideastern Oil Boom and creating a dependence on the region that, nearly a decade ago, led to war, yet again, over the black, golden syrup. I’m not an expert on Mideastern Affairs and I’m not going to pretend to be. We all know that our over-reliance on oil is bad for the future of the planet. I’m going to leave Act Four up for discussion in the comments. Would the world be any different if that level of oil was, say, discovered in Western Europe, or would we just be at war with the French instead (oh what an easy war that would be!?) Can tension ever be resolved so as to lighten the stress on our ever dwindling oil reserves? What is there to be done? Let’s talk oil.
Folks, meet Ah Be Ignorant. We’ll call her Abby, and I will reveal nothing else about her except her own words. On a website which won’t be named and isn’t the one I fled in droves, Abby and I both read an article about an archeolgical dig that discovered a man’s remains from The Copper Age (about 5000 years ago). Our prehistoric gent was buried facing to the left, with a number of jars and pots.
1705: William Cookworthy: Cookworthy? Not according to his wife! He did, however, kill scurvy by telling those saucy seamen to make sure to eat their fruits! The seamen, naturally, misinterpreted his dietary suggestion and continued to succumb to the disease until sometime later. Always carry Trojans and a bottle of orange juice, boys!
Amati made violins, but no one can name a single luthier (that’s violin-maker) other than Antoni Stradivari, so, better luck next time Nick! Still, Nick’s violins are generally agreed to be the best in his family, at least for modern violinists and who can afford a Stradivarius anyways? Those things cost more than a one bedroom apartment in Chelsea. We’d rather have the apartment and use the savings on an Amati if we played violin. However, we don’t. We started taking lessons briefly after hearing Neon Bible but we didn’t really take it seriously and quit after a month or so.
238: The Battle of Carthage: Led by the father/son empiric duo of Gordian the First and Gordian the Second, the Romans fell to the Numidians (modern-day Libya). Gordian the Second was killed in battle, and upon hearing the news, Gordian the First, who was 80 at the time, killed himself.
