2012

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"Very soon I began seeing her byline in the rock papers, the major intellectual conduits of youth at that time." (Image by Klaus Hiltscher.)

The opening of “The Mother Courage of Rock,” Luc Sante’s appraisal of Patti Smith in the New York Review of Books:

“I first heard of Patti Smith in 1971, when I was seventeen. The occasion was an unsigned half-column item in the New York Flyer, a short-lived local supplement toRolling Stone, marking the single performance of Cowboy Mouth, a play she cowrote and costarred in with Sam Shepard, and it was possibly her first appearance in the press. What caught my eye and made me save the clipping—besides the accompanying photo of her in a striped jersey, looking vulnerable—was her boast, ‘I’m one of the best poets in rock and roll.’ At the time, I didn’t just think I was the best poet in rock and roll; I thought I was the only one, for all that my practice consisted solely of playing ‘Sister Ray’ by the Velvet Underground very loud on the stereo and filling notebook pages with drivel that naturally fell into the song’s meter. (I later discovered that I was just one of hundreds, maybe thousands, of teenagers around the world doing essentially the same thing.)

Very soon I began seeing her byline in the rock papers, the major intellectual conduits of youth at that time. Her contributions were not ordinary. She reviewed a Lotte Lenya anthology for Rolling Stone (‘[She] lays the queen’s cards on the table and plays them with kisses and spit and a ribbon round her throat’). She wrote a half-page letter to the editors of Crawdaddy contrasting that magazine’s praise for assorted mediocrities with the true neglected stars out in the world:

Best of everything there was
and everything there is to come
is often undocumented.
Lost in the cosmos of time.
On the subway I saw the most beautiful girl.
In an unknown pool hall I saw the greatest shot in history.
A nameless blonde boy in a mohair sweater.
A drawing in a Paris alleyway. Second only to Dubuffet.

Creem devoted four pages to a portfolio of her poems (‘Christ died for somebodies sins/but not mine/melting in a pot of thieves/wild card up the sleeve/thick heart of stone/my sins my own…’—if this sounds familiar, you expect the next line to be ‘they belong to me,’ but it’s not there yet).”

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Patti Smith singing “You Light Up My Life” on Kids Are People Too, 1980s:

Lotte Lenye, “Mack the Knife,” 1962:

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The full 1970 documentary, “Soft Self-Portrait of Salvador Dali.” Just during the opening scene: insane piano solo, screeching cats, Orson Welles on narration. Tremendous stuff.

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Inverting vandalism, the Urban eXperiment or UX, is a group of artists who preserve fading Parisian landmarks–after surreptitiously breaking into them. The opening of “The New French Hacker-Artist Underground,” Jon Lackman’s Wired article about the group:

“Thirty years ago, in the dead of night, a group of six Parisian teenagers pulled off what would prove to be a fateful theft. They met up at a small cafè near the Eiffel Tower to review their plans—again—before heading out into the dark. Lifting a grate from the street, they descended a ladder to a tunnel, an unlit concrete passageway carrying a cable off into the void. They followed the cable to its source: the basement of the ministry of telecommunications. Horizontal bars blocked their way, but the skinny teens all managed to wedge themselves through and ascend to the building’s ground floor. There they found three key rings in the security office and a logbook indicating that the guards were on their rounds.

But the guards were nowhere to be seen. The six interlopers combed the building for hours, encountering no one, until they found what they were looking for at the bottom of a desk drawer—maps of the ministry’s citywide network of tunnels. They took one copy of each map, then returned the keys to the security office. Heaving the ministry’s grand front door ajar, they peeked outside; no police, no passersby, no problem. They exited onto the empty Avenue de Sègur and walked home as the sun rose. The mission had been so easy that one of the youths, Natacha, seriously asked herself if she had dreamed it. No, she concluded: ‘In a dream, it would have been more complicated.’

This stealthy undertaking was not an act of robbery or espionage but rather a crucial operation in what would become an association called UX, for ‘Urban eXperiment.’ UX is sort of like an artist’s collective, but far from being avant-garde—confronting audiences by pushing the boundaries of the new—its only audience is itself. More surprising still, its work is often radically conservative, intemperate in its devotion to the old. Through meticulous infiltration, UX members have carried out shocking acts of cultural preservation and repair, with an ethos of ‘restoring those invisible parts of our patrimony that the government has abandoned or doesn’t have the means to maintain.’ The group claims to have conducted 15 such covert restorations, often in centuries-old spaces, all over Paris.”

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A seven-minute clip of Mark Boyd’s 1967 psychedelic light show from London’s influential if short-lived UFO club, which notably hosted Pink Floyd.

Syd Barrett and Roger Waters, also 1967:

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"THERAPEUTIC."

math tutor for masage (Inwood / Wash Hts)

I can help you with all your math problems in exchange for massage. NON-SEXUAL. THERAPEUTIC.
I am a professional math tutor.
I need massage for back pain.

Gloria Swanson, on What’s My Line?, in 1950, the year of Norma Desmond.

Swanson with Dick Cavett and Janis Joplin, August 1970, two months before Joplin’s death:

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What if war were painless, at least for one side? And what if the American President could fight overseas without getting approval from Congress because what’s being waged isn’t precisely war as we know it, but something beyond the traditional definition? In the brave new world of drones and robots, that’s exactly where the United States is. From Peter W. Singer’s excellent New York Times Opinion piece, “Do Drones Undermine Democracy?

“Just 10 years ago, the idea of using armed robots in war was the stuff of Hollywood fantasy. Today, the United States military has more than 7,000 unmanned aerial systems, popularly called drones. There are 12,000 more on the ground. Last year, they carried out hundreds of strikes — both covert and overt — in six countries, transforming the way our democracy deliberates and engages in what we used to think of as war.

We don’t have a draft anymore; less than 0.5 percent of Americans over 18 serve in the active-duty military. We do not declare war anymore; the last time Congress actually did so was in 1942 — against Bulgaria, Hungary and Romania. We don’t buy war bonds or pay war taxes anymore. During World War II, 85 million Americans purchased war bonds that brought the government $185 billion; in the last decade, we bought none and instead gave the richest 5 percent of Americans a tax break.

And now we possess a technology that removes the last political barriers to war. The strongest appeal of unmanned systems is that we don’t have to send someone’s son or daughter into harm’s way. But when politicians can avoid the political consequences of the condolence letter — and the impact that military casualties have on voters and on the news media — they no longer treat the previously weighty matters of war and peace the same way.”

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BigDog, by the good people at Boston Dynamics:

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A clip from Walter Cronkite’s sit-down with Anwar Sadat in the shadows of the pyramids, in 1977, four years before the Egyptian president was murdered. Sadat denies slave labor was used to build the incredible tombs.

Karl Pilkington visits the pyramids (at 5:05):

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"He slashed his left wrist and throat with a razor this morning in a room where he was hiding in a little two-story brick boarding house."

Last week, I posted old print articles about Harry K. Thaw and Evelyn Nesbit, in the years after the murder of the third member of their twisted love triangle, architect Stanford White. In the story about Thaw, he was sought for horsewhipping a very unwilling participant in his sadomasochistic fantasies. Thaw was eventually returned to a mental asylum where he would remain until 1922–after a failed attempt at paying off his victim’s family. But first he had to be apprehended. The story of Thaw’s arrest courtesy of a couple of passages from a story in the January 12, 1917 New York Times:

“Philadelphia–Harry K. Thaw, slayer of Stanford White, added attempted suicide to his escapades today. Hunted down by detectives with a New York warrant that charged him with whipping Fred Gump Jr., the nineteen-year-old schoolboy, and depressed by the effects of heavy drinking, he slashed his left wrist and throat with a razor this morning in a room where he was hiding in a little two-story brick boarding house run by Mrs. Elizabeth Tacot at 5,200 Walnut Street, West Philadelphia.

Thaw’s wounds, while severe enough to make it probable that he actually attempted to end his life and was not simply courting sympathy because of the new ordeal he faced, will not cause death unless unexpected complications arise. He was taken to St. Mary’s Hospital in the Kensington section, seven miles from the house. There several bichloride of mercury tablets were found in one of his pockets, but there was nothing in his condition shortly before midnight to indicate that he had swallowed any of them. He was very weak from loss of blood and he was unable to make a statement. He is under arrest in the hospital, not on a charge of attempted suicide, but on the New York whipping charges. 

Landlady Discovers Thaw’s Plight

Mrs. Tacot, who said she knew Thaw only as ‘Mr. West,’ and did not realize his identity, was the first to learn what Thaw had done. At about 10:15 o’clock this morning she knocked on the door of the parlor which she had fitted up as Thaw’s bedroom and got no response. She pushed open the door a few inches and saw Thaw fully dressed, lying on the bed. He had pulled his overcoat up above his throat. He was moaning and blood was running from his left hand, which was extended over the side of the bed. The landlady phoned to the local branch of the O’Farrell Detective Agency to Maloney, a former policeman, Harbor Master and Republican boss of the Fifth Ward, who is in charge of the branch. Dr. E.A. Bateman, who lives near the house, was notified, and he summoned in turn Dr. A.F. Shiezle.

"Several bichloride of mercury tablets were found in one of his pockets."

While this was going on at the Tacot house Maloney was telling Chief Tate that he was prepared to surrender Thaw. The chief sent Lieutenant Theodore Wood and two detectives to the house in a taxicab, with instructions to call Dr. John Wanamaker 3d, the police surgeon. Magistrate George A. Persch also went into the house. Thaw seemed to be in a daze.

‘Have you anything you want to say?’ the Magistrate asked him. ‘Do you know that you may die? Will you make a statement of any kind?’ Thaw’s body shook but he made no response.

At the hospital Thaw was placed in comfortable quarters. He was arrested on the charges made in New York and not for the attempt upon his own life. As soon as his condition permits, the police plan to return him to New York.”

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Not yet quite as sad a repository of obsolescence as the public library, the U.S. Postal Service nonetheless struggles at its sunset.

1903: Streetcar mail delivery, Washington D.C.

1997: Kramer calls attention to the charade.

'I am frankly astounded that CNN would take trash like that and use it to open a presidential debate." (Image by Gage Skidmore.)

Newt Gingrich, 2012:

“I think the destructive, vicious, negative nature of much of the news media makes it harder to govern this country, harder to attract decent people to run for public office. And I am appalled that you would begin a presidential debate on a topic like that.

Every person in here knows personal pain.

Every person in here has had someone close to them go through painful things. To take an ex-wife and make it two days before the primary a significant question in a presidential campaign is as close to despicable as anything I can imagine. (Cheers, applause.)

My — my two daughters, my two daughters wrote the head of ABC, and made the point that it was wrong, that they should pull it. And I am frankly astounded that CNN would take trash like that and use it to open a presidential debate.”

Newt Gingrich, 1998:

“Around the world today, the institution of the presidency has been degraded to the point that it is viewed as the rough equivalent of the Jerry Springer show — a level of disrespect and decadence that should appall every American.”

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Despite an incredibly austere budget for 2012, the struggling state of Kentucky will move forward with allocating public funds toward the building of a creationist theme park, which features Noah and his Ark. Cripes. Some details about the project from Laurie Goodstein in the New York Times:

“Since Gov. Steven L. Beshear announced the plan on Wednesday, some constitutional experts have raised alarms over whether government backing for an enterprise that promotes religion violates the First Amendment’s requirement of separation of church and state. But Mr. Beshear, a Democrat, said the arrangement posed no constitutional problem, and brushed off questions about his stand on creationism.

‘The people of Kentucky didn’t elect me governor to debate religion,’ he said at a news conference. ‘They elected me governor to create jobs.’

The theme park was conceived by the same Christian ministry that built the Creation Museum in Petersburg, Ky., where dioramas designed to debunk evolution show humans and dinosaurs coexisting peacefully on an earth created by God in six days. The ministry, Answers in Genesis, believes that the earth is only 6,000 years old — a controversial assertion even among many Bible-believing Christians.

Although the Creation Museum has been a target of ridicule by some, it has drawn 1.2 million visitors in its first three years — proving that there is a sizable paying audience for entertainment rooted in a literal interpretation of the Bible.”

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“Something big is happening”:

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How beautiful. The poetry of machines, via 1930’s “Mechanical Principles,” by brilliant pioneering documentarian Ralph Steiner.

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The best article I’ve read this very young new year isHow U.S. Lost Out on iPhone Work,” an excellent New York Times piece by Charles Duhigg and Keith Bradsher. It follows up on the question that President Obama famously asked Steve Jobs early last year during a pow-wow with Silicon Valley industry leaders: What can we do to have Apple products manufactured in America again? With his typical bluntness, Jobs told Obama it wasn’t going to happen. One reason is that contemporary America lacks a critical mass of mid-level engineers. But even if we reversed that situation, a larger problem looms: China, with its Foxconn complex, will sacrifice the health and well-being of its workers, treat them like so many indentured servants, in order to fulfill the every whim of tech titans. At any rate, it gives lie to the election-year assertion that all we have to do is loosen regulations and jobs will flood our shores. An excerpt:

Apple executives say that going overseas, at this point, is their only option. One former executive described how the company relied upon a Chinese factory to revamp iPhone manufacturing just weeks before the device was due on shelves. Apple had redesigned the iPhone’s screen at the last minute, forcing an assembly line overhaul. New screens began arriving at the plant near midnight.

A foreman immediately roused 8,000 workers inside the company’s dormitories, according to the executive. Each employee was given a biscuit and a cup of tea, guided to a workstation and within half an hour started a 12-hour shift fitting glass screens into beveled frames. Within 96 hours, the plant was producing over 10,000 iPhones a day.

‘The speed and flexibility is breathtaking,’ the executive said. ‘There’s no American plant that can match that.'”

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"Get the fuck out." (Image by Angela George.)

NEW YORK SPORTS CLUB – LOCKER ROOM (Greenwich Village)

Just a passing thought to those bitches downtown.

1) Enter the locker room.

2) Open your locker.

3) Change your stinky clothes.

4) Take a quick piss before entering the shower if you take one.

5) Finally, get the fuck out.

P.S.: SORRY.. TWATS… The next time you’re so interested in our conversation, I’m going to surprise you.


Some search-engine keyphrases sending traffic to Afflictor this week:

Afflictor: Thinking Ron Paul's South Carolina ground team is doing great work.

  • Adam Curtis likens the contemporary West to the 1980s Soviet Union

“Thriller,” as performed by Aldebaran bots.

In a new blog post, cultural critic Adam Curtis likens the contemporary West to the 1980s Soviet Union, an idea nearing the closing credits of entropy. An excerpt:

There are of course vast differences between our present society and the Soviet Union of thirty years ago – for one thing they had practically no consumer goods whereas we are surrounded by them, and for another western capitalism was waiting in the wings to fill the vacuum. But there are also echoes of our present mood – a grand economic system that had once promised heaven on earth had become absurd and corrupted.

Everyone in Russia in the early 1980s knew that the managers and technocrats in charge of the economy were using that absurdity to loot the system and enrich themselves. The politicians were unable to do anything because they were in the thrall of the economic theory, and thus of the corrupt technocrats. And above all no-one in the political class could imagine any alternative future.

In the face of this most Soviet people turned away from politics and any form of engagement with society and lived day by day in a world that they knew was absurd, trapped by the lack of a vision of any other way.” (Thanks Browser.)

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Curtis’ analysis of the Computer Age:

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Genius film comedian Buster Keaton had a sad life, from his vaudevillian parents tossing him around on stage like a rag doll when he was a tyke to the financial problems in his later years. His appearance on What’s My Line?, 1957.

Real house, no trick photography, no stunt man, no special effects:

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Here are some things that are restricted or illegal (or at one time were illegal) in America, but are never going away: alcohol, drugs, prostitution, abortion and guns. You can forbid them, but all it does is create a far more dangerous black market. It’s tantamount to choosing worse instead of bad. The upcoming 2012 Summer Olympics in London will have the strictest drug testing ever and a 24-hour lab that will be constantly humming. Some of the athletes using drugs will be caught, many will not. From a Daily Mail article about the lab:

Drug cheats have been warned they will be caught at next summer’s Olympics and Paralympics as London 2012 unveiled ‘the most high-tech’ laboratory in the history of the Games.

Up to 6,250 samples will be tested by 150 scientists working at the 24-hour anti-doping facility in Harlow, Essex.

All Olympic medallists will have to submit a urine sample and there will be around 1,000 blood tests.

With 10,500 athletes expected at the Olympic and Paralympic Games, organisers are confident up to half of competitors will be tested; some more than once.”

In 1963, the year before his death, original Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru was interviewed by Playboy. An excerpt:

Playboy: In a speech given in 1947, on the eve of Indian independence, you said, ‘Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now comes the time when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially.’ How substantial has the redemption of this pledge been? What is the spiritual and material condition of India today, after 16 years of independence? 

Nehru: India today presents a very mixed picture of hope and anguish, of remarkable advances and at the same time of inertia, of a new spirit and also of the dead hand of privilege, of an over-all and growing unity and of many disruptive tendencies. There is a great vitality and a ferment in people’s minds and activities. Perhaps we who live in the middle of this ever-changing scene do not always realize the full significance of all that is happening. Often outsiders can make a better appraisal of the situation. It is remarkable that a country and a people rooted in the remote past, who have shown so much resistance to change, should now be marching forward rapidly. We are making history in India even though we might not be conscious of it.

Jawaharlal Nehru, lying in state, 1964.

Playboy: In that same 1947 speech you specifically called for ‘the ending of poverty and ignorance and disease and inequality of opportunity’ in India. Are you still optimistic about the eventual elimination of these conditions?

Nehru: What tomorrow’s India will be like, I cannot say. I can only express my hopes and wishes. Naturally, I want India to advance on the material plane, to fulfill her plans, to raise the standard of living of her vast population. I want the narrow conflicts of today in the name of religion or caste, language or province, to cease, and a classless and casteless society to be built up where every individual has full opportunity to grow according to his worth and ability. In particular, I hope that the curse of caste will be ended, for with it there cannot be either democracy or socialism. Tomorrow’s India will be what we make it by today’s labors. I have no doubt but that India will progress industrially and otherwise; that she will advance in science and technology; that our people’s standards will rise; that education will spread; that health conditions will be better; and that art and culture will enrich people’s lives. We have started on this pilgrimage with strong purpose and good heart, and we shall reach the end of the journey, however long that might be. But what I am concerned with is not merely our material progress, but the quality and depth of our people. Gaining power through industrial processes, will they lose themselves in the quest of individual wealth and soft living? That would be a tragedy for it would be a negation of what India has stood for in the past and, I think, in the present time also as exemplified by Gandhi. Power is necessary, but wisdom is essential. It is only power with wisdom that is good.”

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A thumbnail of Nehru’s life, including his 1949 NYC ticker-tape parade:

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From “The Secrets Apple Keeps,” Adam Lashinsky’s new Fortune article about the cultish internal nature of the tech giant:

Apple employees know something big is afoot when the carpenters appear in their office building. New walls are quickly erected. Doors are added and new security protocols put into place. Windows that once were transparent are now frosted. Other rooms have no windows at all. They are called lockdown rooms: No information goes in or out without a reason.

The hubbub is disconcerting for employees. Quite likely you have no idea what is going on, and it’s not like you’re going to ask. If it hasn’t been disclosed to you, then it’s literally none of your business. What’s more, your badge, which got you into particular areas before the new construction, no longer works in those places. All you can surmise is that a new, highly secretive project is under way, and you are not in the know. End of story.

Secrecy takes two basic forms at Apple — external and internal. There is the obvious kind, the secrecy that Apple uses as a way of keeping its products and practices hidden from competitors and the rest of the outside world. This cloaking device is the easier of the two types for the rank and file to understand because many companies try to keep their innovations under wraps. Internal secrecy, as evidenced by those mysterious walls and off-limits areas, is tougher to stomach. Yet the link between secrecy and productivity is one way that Apple (AAPL) challenges long-held management truths and the notion of transparency as a corporate virtue.

All companies have secrets, of course. The difference is that at Apple everything is a secret.” (Thanks Browser.)

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A Rolling Thunder performance of “One Too Many Mornings,” Steve Jobs’ favorite Bob Dylan song. Not even close to Dylan’s best, but to each his own.

“One Too Many Mornings”

Down the street the dogs are barkin’
And the day is a-gettin’ dark
As the night comes in a-fallin’
The dogs’ll lose their bark
An’ the silent night will shatter
From the sounds inside my mind
For I’m one too many mornings
And a thousand miles behind

From the crossroads of my doorstep
My eyes they start to fade
As I turn my head back to the room
Where my love and I have laid
An’ I gaze back to the street
The sidewalk and the sign
And I’m one too many mornings
An’ a thousand miles behind

It’s a restless hungry feeling
That don’t mean no one no good
When ev’rything I’m a-sayin’
You can say it just as good.
You’re right from your side
I’m right from mine
We’re both just one too many mornings
An’ a thousand miles behind

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Theoretical physicist Michio Kaku bluntly explaining current AI and how quantum computing could change the game.

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"Will allow you to cut it."

Selling my hair – $250 (NYC)

Looking for buyer for my hair.

About me: Aprrox. 18-20in, straight, untreated, light brown hair. 32yo healthy, athletic male, good diet, good natural oils.

Will allow you to cut it or be present for cutting.

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