Urban Studies

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A three-wheeled concept car, the General Motors Roundabout was introduced at the 1964 World’s Fair as part of the “Futurama II” exhibit. Like the Electric Shopper, it was meant mostly as a chore vehicle. It looked like the future. It was not. From Concept Car Central: “The Runabout was a three-wheeled commuter car with two built-in shopping carts in the trunk for trips to the mall or grocery store. The front wheel could turn 180 degrees for easy parking. Aerodynamically similar to the Firebird IV concept, the Runabout featured a sliding canopy which provided access to the four seats. Driver equipment was sparse, though the Runabout had no driveline, and had to be rolled into the showroom.”

 

In the decade that the term “hooters” was coined, the 1970s, the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders plunged into the modern breast era, donning outfits with necklines that just a few years earlier might have gotten a go-go club shuttered. GM Tex Schramm had been gradually trimming the former “Cowbelles” cheer-squad suits, but in 1972 the women really busted out. Coach Tom Landry, a computer geek and Jesus freak, was not pleased. From The Last Cowboy by Mark Ribowsky, via the excellent Delancey Place:

“The vibe in Thousand Oaks at summer camp in 1967 contained a strange brew of old and new currents. The Cowboys’ first winning season had taken the team so far that it accumulated almost mythical properties in Dallas and the exigency for a grander scope. Clint Murchison Jr. relocated the Cowboys’ offices again, now to the Expressway Tower, an opulent fifteen-story glass structure at 6116 North Central Expressway that Murchison built on property he had bought expressly for the purpose. He put the organization on the eleventh floor, its picture windows offering sweeping vistas of the city. He also rented out a ground-floor space to the Playboy Club, which catered to the same upscale, male-dominated crowd that Murchison hosted in the Cowboy Club at the Cotton Bowl during home games. Not for a minute did Murchison consider that his coach might be embarrassed to have as neighbors cleavage-displaying young women wearing bunny ears and cottontails. The Cowboys were the hippest party in town, and the juxtaposition fit. Neither did he mind if players repaired to the Playboy Club after a hard few hours at the practice facility, which was under a big bubble behind the building. Landry already had the squares’ allegiance; could it hurt if they were balanced by Hugh Hefner’s ideal of 1960s American manhood?

Tex Schramm, for one, saw no downside to that equation. Working from the same idea, he junked the Cowbelles that off-season and created a new cheerleading squad, one that would remind no one of high school girls in hoop skirts and sweaters. Instead, the Cowgirls were professional go-go dancers hired to shake their pompoms while wearing hot pants and tight vests, showing off ample racks and bare midriffs. When Landry learned of it, he nearly had cardiac arrest. Years later in his memoirs, he was still exercised, saying that while the Cowgirls ‘transformed sideline entertainment,’ and that it was an example of Schramm’s lust to foster ‘a high profile image of style, flair, and maximum visibility,’ it also ‘sexually exploited the young women by pandering to the baser instincts of men.”

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Dubai, which is taking the lead in the air, hopes to forge ahead with air-conditioning as well, announcing plans for the first temperature-controlled, indoor city, the Mall of the World. I want to know more about the “specialized surgical procedures and cosmetic treatments” available in the “Wellness District,” which will cater to “medical tourists.” If the emirate’s real-estate market is as much a bubble as some think it is, we may have the first ghost town with a quiet-cool setting. From Belinda Lanks at Businessweek:

“Dubai is the land of superlatives. It already lays claim to the tallest building and the biggest fish tank in the world. Now the city has unveiled plans to build the largest mall and biggest indoor theme park in what will be the first temperature-controlled mini-city.

The 8-million-square-foot shopping center, dubbed Mall of the World, will include 100 hotels, a medical resort, event facilities, and a theater district—all of which can be shielded from the elements by a large retractable roof. The project, according to the developer, Dubai Holding, will be built ‘in phases in alignment with the gradual growth of family tourism in Dubai.’

Attracting shoppers from abroad is the goal.”

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“Catering to medical tourists in a 3-million sq. ft. area”:

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I Want to Fuck Joan Rivers (Lower East Side)

Sure, she is a bit long in the tooth but the woman has spirit and isn’t afraid to say what is on her mind. That kind of character is sexy. She is highly emotional and I bet she is still a firecracker in the sack. For all those reasons, I am IN.

From the October 30, 1893 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“To-morrow night Fatty Langtry and Fatty Green will meet in Bleecker Hall, New York, and spar for the fat men’s championship of America. Langtry weights 325 pounds and Green 350 pounds.”

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The opening of Bill Gates’ WSJ piece revealing his favorite business book, which was penned decades ago by a New Yorker writer whose name probably doesn’t resonate so much today:

“Not long after I first met Warren Buffett back in 1991, I asked him to recommend his favorite book about business. He didn’t miss a beat: It’s Business Adventures, by John Brooks,” he said. “I’ll send you my copy.” I was intrigued: I had never heard of Business Adventures or John Brooks.

Today, more than two decades after Warren lent it to me—and more than four decades after it was first published—Business Adventures remains the best business book I’ve ever read. John Brooks is still my favorite business writer. (And Warren, if you’re reading this, I still have your copy.)

A skeptic might wonder how this out-of-print collection of New Yorker articles from the 1960s could have anything to say about business today. After all, in 1966, when Brooks profiled Xerox, the company’s top-of-the-line copier weighed 650 pounds, cost $27,500, required a full-time operator and came with a fire extinguisher because of its tendency to overheat. A lot has changed since then.•

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Speaking of the former child preacher Marjoe Gortner, he was hired in 1973 by OUI, a middling vagina periodical of the Magazine Age, to write a deservedly mocking article about the American visit of another youthful religious performer, the 16-year-old Maharaj Ji, an adolescent Indian guru who promised to levitate the Houston Astrodome, a plot that never got off the ground. Two excerpts from the resulting report published the following May, which revealed a tech-friendly and futuristic cult leader, who would have been right at home in today’s Silicon Valley.

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“The guru’s people do the same thing the Pentecostal Church does. They say you can believe in guru Maharaj Ji and that’s fantastic and good, but if you receive light and get it all within, if you become a real devotee-that is the ultimate. In the Pentecostal Church you can be saved from your sins and have Jesus Christ as your Saviour, but the ultimate is the baptism of the Holy Ghost. This is where you get four or five people around and they begin to talk and more or less chant in tongues until sooner or later the person wanting the baptismal experience so much-well, it’s like joining a country club: once you’re in, you’ll be like everyone – else in the club.

The people who’ve been chanting say, ‘Speak it out, speak it out,’ and everything becomes so frenzied that the baptismalee will finally speak a few words in tongues himself, and the people around him say, ‘Oh, you’ve got it.’ And the joy that comes over everybody’s faces! It’s incredible. It’s beautiful. They feel they have got the Holy Spirit like all their friends, and once they’ve got it, it’s forever. It’s quite an experience.

So essentially they’re the same thing pressing on your eyes while your ears are corked, and standing around the altar speaking in tongues. They’re both illuminating experiences. The guru’s path is interesting, though. Once you’ve seen the light and decided you want to join his movement, you give over everything you have–all material possessions. Sometimes you even give your job. Now, depending on what your job is, you may be told to leave it or to stay. If you stay, generally you turn your pay checks over to the Divine Light Mission, and they see that you are housed and clothed and fed. They have their U. S. headquarters in Denver. You don’t have to worry about anything. That’s their hook. They take care of it all. They have houses all over the country for which they supposedly paid cash on the line. First class. Some of them are quite plush. At least Maharaj Ji’s quarters are. Some of the followers live in those houses, too, but in the dormitory-type atmosphere with straw mats for beds. It’s a large operation. It seems to be a lot like the organization Father Divine had back in the Thirties. He did it with the black people at the Peace Mission in Philadelphia. He took care of his people-mostly domestics and other low-wage earners–and put them up in his own hotel with three meals a day.

The guru is much more technologically oriented, though. He spreads a lot of word and keeps tabs on who needs what through a very sophisticated Telex system that reaches out to all the communes or ashrams around the country. He can keep count of who needs how many T-shirts, pairs of socks–stuff like that. And his own people run this system; it’s free labor for the corporation.

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“The morning of the third day I was feeling blessed and refreshed, and I was looking forward to the guru’s plans for the Divine City, which was soon going to be built somewhere in the U. S. I wanted to hear what that was all about.

It was unbelievable. The city was to consist of ‘modular units adaptable to any desired shape.’ The structures would have waste-recycling devices so that water could be drunk over and over. They even planned to have toothbrushes with handles you could squeeze to have the proper amount of paste pop up (the crowd was agog at this). There would be a computer in each communal house so that with just a touch of the hand you could check to see if a book you wanted was available, and if it was, it would be hand-messengered to you. A complete modern city of robots. I was thinking: whatever happened to mountains and waterfalls and streams and fresh air? This was going to be a technological, computerized nightmare! It repulsed me. Computer cards to buy essentials at a central storeroom! And no cheating, of course. If you flashed your card for an item you already had, the computer would reject it. The perfect turn-off. The spokesman for this city announced that the blueprints had already been drawn up and actual construction would be the next step. Controlled rain, light, and space. Bubble power! It was all beginning to be very frightening.”

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“The Houston Astrodome will physically separate itself from the planet which we call Earth and will fly”:

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Two brief newspaper articles which announced the invention, in 1907, of an automatic typewriter by Thomas A. McCall, which was at the time being demonstrated at business conventions, including one at Madison Square Garden. It eventually came to the market under the name the Hooven Automatic, a carbon paper-less way to reproduce scores of form letters and memos.

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From “Truly Wonderful Machine,” in the August 5, 1907 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

In Columbus, O., a man has produced a mechanical typewriter that promises to eliminate the present day pretty stenographer that has become such a familiar figure in the modern office. This machine will actually write letters at the rate of one thousand words a minute, continuously, and do the work correctly and automatically. This wonderful machine will be on exhibition at the national business shows to be held in New York and Chicago this fall. The machine may be operated in two ways. If it is desired to make a number of copies of the letter, with different names and addresses, it will perform this work producing in each case an original letter in one, two or three colors, fill in the name and address and add the signature.

A business man desiring to dictate may use this automatic typewriter by talking his letters into a device like a phonograph, transfer the record to the machine, turn on the electric current and go home. The next morning the letters will all be done, and the machine will automatically stop when all the letters are written. It will also address envelopes or wrappers and count them as well.

It will write forward or backward, and if desired the lines may be justified like type, which at the present time is impossible on ordinary typewriters. With the general introduction of this machine wives of business men will breathe easier, for the machine is warranted not to flirt. The national business shows, where the machine will be shown to the public for the first time, will be held in Madison Square Garden in New York October 12 to 19 and in the Coliseum, Chicago, November 9 to 16.•

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From “Machine May Replace Typewriter Girls,” in the October 15, 1907 Los Angeles Herald:

Typewriter girls may find their occupations gone if what is said of a new invention turns out to be true. It is exhibited at the business show now in progress in Madison Square Garden and is an automatic typewriter run by compressed air and capable, it is said, of writing from 5,000 to 10,000 words an hour for twenty-four hours at a stretch.

The invention is the work of A. McCall of Columbus, Ohio.•

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Cars are smaller and fewer and less gassy in America, but home-size growth halted only briefly during the depths of the Great Recession, subsequently regaining the lost square footage and then some. Even our most famous environmentalist, Al Gore, lives in a climate-killing monster with more-than-ample mantle space for his Nobel and Oscar. From Henry Grabar’s Salon piece, “We Must Kill the McMansion!“:

“This surfeit of space is a potent symbol of the American way of life; it speaks to our priorities, our prosperity and our tendency to take more than we need. But the superlative size of our houses isn’t just a foam finger America can hold up to the world. It’s correlated with land use patterns and population density, which in turn determine the environmental impact and personal health of communities, and whether they can support a diverse range of businesses, facilities and transportation choices. It’s no coincidence that a modern American suburb like Weston, Florida, has just one-third the population density of Levittown.

Given the environmental, infrastructural and financial costs of Americans’ insatiable spatial appetites – the share of our budgets devoted to housing is 41 percent, up from 26 percent in the Levittown era – you can understand why some saw good news in the recession-era report that our houses had begun to shrink. Between 2007 and 2010, for the first time in a half century, the average size of new U.S. homes fell by more than a hundred square feet, dropping back toward 2004 levels.

It was no peak; last year, the average size of new American houses reached an all-time high of 2,679 square feet. The increase in space per person has been even more dramatic. Between 1973 and 2013, the average American household shrank from 3.01 to 2.54 persons; new homes give Americans more than 1,000 square feet per family member, on average. That’s roughly twice as much space as we had in 1973.

You may consider this an indicator of success, excess, or both. Planners consider it a challenge. Economic growth, as the prolific planner Pedro Ortiz has written, drives urban expansion far more than population growth. In Madrid, for example, the average person’s living space expanded from 129 square feet in 1974 to 301 square feet in 2007 — a nearly threefold increase. While the population hardly changed between 1975 and 1995, the city’s footprint expanded by 50 percent.

The phenomenon is universal. But American homes dwarf those in nearly every other country on Earth.”

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Marjoe Gortner was a California-born charismatic child preacher with an overflowing collection plate who grew out of religion and revealed secrets about evangelistic crowd manipulation. Excerpts from two 1970s People articles by Lois Armstrong about Marjoe’s life after he threw off the cloak and pulled back the curtain.

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From 1976’s “Ex-Kid Gospeler Marjoe Is Hollywood’s New Gun for Hire“:

It seems fitting that the movie Food of the Gods should star Marjoe Gortner, once a child preacher on the revivalist circuit. As a sermonizer he dwelt on the terrors of hellfire. In Food he is still dealing in fear, but considerably diluted—it’s just a cheapjack monster film. Born again, Marjoe no longer makes his jack in the pulpit. He put his evangelistic soul on ice four years ago with Marjoe, the Oscar-winning documentary that detailed how he preached his first sermon at 4 and by 12 had fleeced his flock of an estimated $3 million. 

But at 32, the show goes on for Marjoe. In his view, he’s just shifted his stage from sweaty tents in Appalachia to sweaty sound stages in Hollywood. ‘My whole religious show was just live theater,’ he reflects. To be sure, nowadays he collects not only cash on his plate but starlets. Yet, if anything, Gortner feels purer at heart. It was ‘dangerous,’ he says, ‘telling people they were going to burn in hell.’

At the same time, he isn’t conscience-stricken about his original act. ‘I didn’t feel like a con man,’ he says, ‘because those people were getting a very good show for their money, and I worked very hard.’ When he had the faithful rolling in the aisles, he claims, it was like primal therapy. ‘Those people have more emotions bottled up,’ he says. ‘They lead very uptight lives. For that moment on the floor, they’re in ecstasy.’ So good was young Marjoe, in fact, that in the early 1950s Warner Bros, dangled a deal which was rejected, he concludes, because ‘religion was more lucrative than movies.’

Now that he has made it to the big screen, it seems strange that Gortner is expending his magic on drive-in dreadfuls like Food, a current shoot-’em-up, Bobby Joe and the Outlaws, and the recently completed Viva Knievel, in which Marjoe plays Evel’s lago-like sidekick. Gortner’s response is that he is merely serving his old constituency once more. For example? ‘The guy who works in a Delco factory at a job he hates,’ Marjoe explains, ‘with a wife as fat as hell and a bunch of kids. He’s got to have his fantasies. The people who are going to those movies are the same type who came to the revival meetings, and for the same reason. That’s where they get their entertainment, like other people go to the ballet or a Bob Dylan concert. You can’t blame them for never having been exposed to another culture.’

In his own life Marjoe has embraced that fantasy culture: he lives with a svelte ex-Playmate, tools around in a Porsche or on a hot motorcycle and collects expensive guns and exquisite American Indian jewelry. Without guilt. ‘I came to a basic philosophy,’ he says. ‘I believe in myself. The trouble with most religions is they tell you how to like yourself through God or a guru. It’s harder to deal just with yourself and much more rewarding—you don’t have to report in.’

That wasn’t always true for him.”

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From 1978’s “In Texas, Marjoe Gortner Wraps His First Film and His Second Wife, Candy Clark“:

“They had been dating off and on since last October, Marjoe’s companion of nearly two years, model Lynnda Kimball, having recently moved out. The relationship picked up at Christmas and then he cast the actress in When You Comin’ Back, Red Ryder? A successful off-Broadway play, it is Gortner’s first film-producing effort. 

Clark admits to having had a mild crush on her new husband since 1972, when she saw the documentary Marjoe. One night she and a friend, cruising near a Malibu drugstore, spotted him in a purple Rolls-Royce with a license plate that read ‘GREED.’

‘We screamed and yelled and waved,’ she recalls. ‘He waved back and drove off real fast. That probably happened to him every day.’ By then Gortner’s attention had shifted from souls to bodies, especially the voluptuous ones he bumped into at pal Hugh Hefner’s mansion. Three years later he and Clark met at an L.A. restaurant, had an interesting conversation but saw each other only in passing for the next two years. Then one night last July he encountered Candy again in the same restaurant and asked for her phone number. 

‘We just gradually grew really close, closer than I’d ever gotten to any other girl,’ he says. ‘Candy’s extremely bright, brighter than this town thinks. She knows how to handle people, and I respect that, possessing those qualities myself.’

Marjoe’s ability to handle—some would say manipulate—people dates back to his 15 years touring the Bible Belt. He was 12 when his dad, the Rev. Vernon Gortner, left home, leaving unaccounted for the $3 million Marjoe’s evangelism had reaped. At 16, Marjoe married and became the father of a daughter, Gigi, now 17. That marriage floundered in the ’60s; so did Marjoe. Then in 1971 he edged into showbiz, playing himself in his screen autobiography before landing the lead in a TV movie, The Gun and the Pulpit, followed by a string of B film roles and TV guest shots.”

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Marjoe counts the money in 1972:

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Cheap is often expensive, and low prices come off of someone else’s bottom line, almost always workers. In a The Daily Dot piece, Tim Jones-Yelvington argues against the sharing economy for the injuries it causes labor, though I don’t think regulation will cause it to screech to a halt. Nor should it, really. Beyong ride-sharing, driverless cars are going to displace workers, and we shouldn’t try to stop that innovation from occurring. We do, however, need some nimble political solutions to deal with the transitional pain of change and automation. An excerpt:

“What Uber and their ilk are fighting for is their right to evade regulatory protections that ensure not just safety for passengers, but also basic labor protections for the professional taxi drivers for whom cabs are a primary source of income. According to Uber, policies like the one pending in my home state of Illinois will destroy thousands of jobs for people in need of cash to pay their bills, including ‘military veterans, teachers, retirees, students, students, the unemployed and underemployed.’ (See also: babies and dogs.)

They’re referring to the part-time drivers who participate in the low-cost non-taxi ridesharing service UberX, who are currently not required to hold commercial licenses, and who are facing some pretty sketchy working conditions, including unpredictable percentages owed to Uber and unreliable protection from the company in case of accidents.

But UberX drivers are also undercutting professional cab drivers and could arguably be described as scabs, helping encourage an overall race to the bottom. With their help, the taxi cab business is now going the way of many other industries in the 21st century, as what was once a potentially viable career is displaced by contingent, part-time, and more easily exploited workers.”

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The Economist has a review of The Improbable Primate: How Water Shaped Human Evolution, Clive Finlayson’s new book which argues that H2O was what made us modern, though I’ve always thought it likely that it was a confluence of numerous factors. The opening:

“ACCORDING to the standard treatment in evolutionary biology, about 1.8m years ago man’s brain became larger, his gut became smaller and he started walking upright. No ape had done that before. It was an important milestone in the story of human evolution.

The ancestor in question, Homo erectus, could use simple tools and hunt. His diet was more meat-based than plant-based. Meat has more calories than food derived from plants. Humans had transformed themselves from tree-climbing apes that needed to spend a lot of time searching for food to upright, meat-consuming hunters that could roam large distances. So successful was this transformation, evolutionarily speaking, that in due course the descendants of Homo erectus, modern-day Homo sapiens, had no problems colonising the far reaches of the globe.

A few years ago Richard Wrangham, a British primatologist at Harvard University, challenged this accepted wisdom by arguing that learning to cook had made apes human. People cannot easily digest raw meat, he said. Cooking food increases its nutritional value. Mr Wrangham showed that Homo erectus learned to cook with fire about 1.8m years ago. This development conferred evolutionary benefits that ultimately led to the dominance of Homo sapiens today.

In a new book, Clive Finlayson, a zoologist and palaeontologist, who is the director of the Gibraltar Museum, offers another view of 7m years of human evolution. Instead of food, he focuses on water, advancing the theory that the spread of Homo sapiens across the globe was driven largely by changes in climate and access to fresh water.”

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Web 1.0 firms prided themselves not just on the informality of their office space but the austerity. Giant tech firms aren’t just lavish now, but their campuses possess identities as pronounced as those of nation-states. Some day (and relatively soon) they will all be gone, but presently they are gleaming cities on a hill. What do the offices of Google and Twitter and Apple tell us about our more collective future? From Kate Losse’s essay “Tech Aesthetics” at Aeon:

“The trend towards office design as an expression of employee taste began after the dotcom crash, when tech companies auctioned off all of their Aeron chairs and ping pong tables, which had come to symbolise tech-office playfulness. As a result, tech offices of the early 2000s tended towards a more sober utility, meant to reassure investors of their restraint.

It took a new generation of companies to renew the playful tech aesthetic. In 2004, Mark Zuckerberg moved Facebook from his dorm room at Harvard University cross-country to its headquarters in Silicon Valley. The company’s first office on Emerson Avenue in Palo Alto recreated Zuckerberg’s dorm room in its design aesthetic, with a video game room replete with ratty couch and rattier blankets. Meanwhile Google’s headquarters in nearby Mountain View adopted a playful, more elementary-school feel with primary colours, exercise balls, and oversized robot sculptures. By 2007, the Day-Glo look – what one could call the ‘orange period’ – had taken over tech, transforming conferences, T‑shirts, and offices into seas of bright orange, yellow and lime green.

The economic crash of 2008 ushered in a new, almost military sobriety, best represented by Facebook’s renovation of an old Hewlett-Packard building in the Stanford Research Park in Palo Alto complete with cavernous, sterile rooms and cement floors. As the economy recovered over the next several years, a new idiosyncratic kind of luxury began to flourish, evident in the appearance of custom pieces, hand-hewn wooden trimmings, and the increasingly eclectic fixtures that mark today’s tech offices. This latest trend can be read as an attempt to disguise work – with trimmings that suggest personality in place of the smooth, ordered humming of a corporate workforce.

This is why the walls in Facebook’s latest headquarters in Menlo Park are covered in graffiti: it makes an office sited on suburban marshland seem like a buzzy urban street. Reassuringly for its well-off workers, however, it’s still a high-end kind of street where the graffiti is done by artists on commission rather than by some masked figure spray‑painting without permission.

What connects Facebook’s incongruous graffiti and Twitter’s incongruous log cabins is their expense. Both represent a complete renovation of the space, making graffiti and log cabins (not in themselves luxurious) seem like high-end amenities.”

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Rate my cock – 35 (here and there)

I’d like honest opinions, if you are willing.

Reply back, and I’ll send you a pic.

The novelist Leo Litwak spent some quality time in the ’60s and ’70s writing magazine articles about American dreamers, from Ronald Reagan to Walt Disney to Werner Erhard, and getting to the essence of Esalen before Paul Mazursky did. For his fascinating 1972 New York Times Magazine piece, “Rolfing, Aikido, Hypnodramas, Psychokinesis, and Other Things Beyond the Here and Now” (subscription required), Litwak attended the Association for Humanistic Psychology meeting at Squaw Valley, becoming familiar with all manner of back-cracking, mind-bending, life-altering methods. An excerpt:

The insistence upon active audience participation keeps the meetings from becoming dull. I attended a hypnodrama session at the Hofbrau, an A-frame, chalet-type building, with scripted placards advertising the menu hanging from the walls (“Hier gibts fondue”). The Hofbrau was jammed. We were to be hypnotized, and were then to participate in a hypnodrama. We encircled the fieldstone fireplace in the center of the large dining hall as Ira Greenberg of the Carmelito, Calif., State Hospital led the session. He described hypnosis as a “control of our controls.” It was a technique, he said, that enabled us to concentrate deeply and regress to forgotten states; once these states were recalled, hypnodrama could be used to act them out, enabling us finally to gratify the unsatisfied nurture needs of infancy.

We removed our shoes and lay on the floor flat on our backs. We were instructed to relax. We began with the toes and very gradually worked up to the head. We were assured that the process was pleasant. We were asked to imagine a yardstick within our minds. We slowly counted down the yardstick until we came to the number which we felt represented the depth of our hypnosis. We tried to sink beneath this number. There were a few snores. We were urged to stay awake. We then began a fantasy trip. We flew up the mountain that was behind the Hofbrau; we were told to soar above the crest and enjoy the flight. We then settled down near the crest by a cave; entered inside and walked down a corridor passing several doors, stopping at that one which enclosed a place we had always wished to enter. We passed through this door, looked around, left the cave, descended to the Hofbrau and then awoke. We assembled in groups of five to discuss the experience. An elderly couple, a trifle disgruntled, denied that they were hypnotized and were skeptical that anyone else was. I myself felt quite relaxed and refreshed. A good many of those in the audience said they had been in deep trances.

A hypnodrama was then staged, based on a young woman’s fantasy. When she had been asked to pass through the door to her special place, her fantasy was that she had entered her high-school lavatory; a woman attendant sat at the threshold and refused to acknowledge her; she felt deeply disturbed. Roles were assigned to volunteers. The young lady was returned to hypnosis. She again passed through the door and confronted the impassive woman attendant. She burst into tears, and begged for a demonstration of affection. The attendant rose to comfort her. At the moment of revelation I had to leave for an appointment with the A.H.P. officers who were to brief me on the current state of humanistic psychology.•

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Cell phones proliferated in the early aughts in America just as Colony Collapse Disorder began to claim large swaths of our bee population, and some thought perhaps there was a connection. But it was just correlation, not causation. Bees seem instead to be stressed by nicotine-derived pesticides and other still-to-be-determined factors. From Dina Spector at Business Insider, an article about RoboBees, one proposed solution to the problem but probably not the best one:

“Honeybees, which pollinate nearly one-third of the food we eat, have been dying at unprecedented rates because of a mysterious phenomenon known as colony collapse disorder (CCD). The situation is so dire that in late June the White House gave a new task force just 180 days to devise a coping strategy to protect bees and other pollinators. The crisis is generally attributed to a mixture of disease, parasites, and pesticides. 

Other scientists are pursuing a different tack: replacing bees. While there’s no perfect solution, modern technology offers hope.

Last year, Harvard University researchers led by engineering professor Robert Wood introduced the first RoboBees, bee-size robots with the ability to lift off the ground and hover midair when tethered to a power supply. The details were published in the journal Science. A coauthor of that report, Harvard graduate student and mechanical engineer Kevin Ma, tells Business Insider that the team is ‘on the eve of the next big development.’ Says Ma: ‘The robot can now carry more weight.’

The project represents a breakthrough in the field of micro-aerial vehicles. It had previously been impossible to pack all the things needed to make a robot fly onto such a small structure and keep it lightweight.”

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“Hello Doug. Would you personally miss bees if they disappeared?”

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The openings of two People articles from several decades ago about a couple of radically different seminar teachers, Moshe Feldenkrais and Werner Erhard, who wanted to help you be the best you that you could be.

From Jon Keller and Bonnie Freer’s 1981 piece, “His Methods May Seem Bizarre“:

Israeli scientist Moshe Feldenkrais is not easily impressed. Over the years he has treated thousands of people, from statesmen (Israel’s first Prime Minister, David Ben-Gurion) to violin virtuosos (Yehudi Menuhin), with his unique method of movement that—he claims and his disciples devoutly believe—results in a kind of heightened self-awareness and improved physical coordination. 

So when Julius Erving, the Philadelphia 76ers’ $550,000-a-year star hoopster, recently became interested in the work of the 77-year-old mind-body guru, even Dr. J got a dose of Feldenkrais’ characteristic crankiness. “There shouldn’t be any professional athletes,” huffs Feldenkrais. “Everyone should be athletic. But if someone wants to sell his skills, it’s his business—not mine.”

Erving and more than 200,000 people from Tel-Aviv to Argentina regard Feldenkrais’ curmudgeonly ways as small price to pay for learning what he calls “Awareness Through Movement.” Essentially, the Feldenkrais Method is a program of exercises that suggest mind over matter, with the body programming the brain so that the whole system works in a new way. 

Feldenkrais concedes there are no simple explanations for his approach (he even scoffs at such attempts), but it is akin to the “patterning” technique widely used to treat retarded children. Patterning involves repeated manipulation of the limbs, and the feedback from these motions stimulates the brain to accept the movements as normal. 

“I am not interested in the movements themselves,” explains Feldenkrais, “but rather in how you do them. Any movement which is difficult and done over and over again can actually reorganize molecules in the brain and the way they send impulses.” Taking his mind-body philosophy on the road, Feldenkrais has just completed a four-day-a-week, nine-week training course for 235 of his pupils at Hampshire College in Amherst, Mass. Fee: $2,000 per person. This week Feldenkrais is leading a four-day workshop in Washington, D.C. before heading home.•

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From 1975’s “Werner Erhard“:

“I wanted to get as far away from Jack Rosenberg as I could get,” explains Werner Erhard. His reason is clear: Jack Rosenberg was a loser. Born in Lower Merion, Pa., Rosenberg married at 18, fathered four children and worked as a construction company supervisor—until he dropped out in 1960. Leaving his family, he took off for St. Louis with a girlfriend (now his second wife and mother of three). To start fresh, Rosenberg adopted space scientist Wernher von Braun‘s first name (misspelling it) and former West German Chancellor Ludwig Erhard’s last name. “Freudians,” Werner Erhard concedes, “would say this was a rejection of Jewishness and a seizure of strength.”

The rest of Erhard’s spiritual hegira has become legend among his cult. For eight years he worked as a crackerjack instructor of encyclopedia salesmen. Then one morning while driving down the freeway south of San Francisco, to which he moved in 1964, he was suddenly struck by the realization that “I was never going to make it. No matter how much money or recognition I achieved, it would never be enough.”

To overcome this hopelessness, Erhard experimented with just about every method guaranteed to bring peace of mind. “I tried yoga, Dale Carnegie, Zen, Scientology, encounter groups, t-groups, psychoanalysis, reality therapy, Gestalt, love, nudity, you name it,” he recalls. “But when it was over, that was not it.”

Once again, Erhard was behind the wheel when he finally “got it”—a religious happening that the faithful call “The Experience.” And what is ‘it’? Replies the Master: “What is it, is it. When you drop the effort to make your life work, you begin to discover that it’s perfect the way it is. You can relax. It’s all going to unfold.”

Not much of a message, perhaps, but as packaged, promoted and proselytized by Erhard in a two-weekend, 60-hour course (price $250), his movement, known as est (Latin for ‘it is,’ as well as Erhard Seminars Training), has turned out more than 63,000 converts in 12 U.S. cities. Another 12,000 hopefuls are on the waiting list. Among the alumni of est’s psychic boot camps are Emmy winner Valerie Harper (who thanked Erhard on TV for changing her life), Cloris Leachman, John Denver, astronaut Buzz Aldrin and activist Jerry Rubin.•

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It’s since been wiped from our memories, but the 1973 American toilet-paper shortage–which never, ever occurred–was a series of rumors and miscommunications and monologue jokes that went viral in a time before interconnected gadgets. From Zachary Crockett at Priceonomics:

“Perhaps the most memorable shortage in a decade of shortages, it involved government officials, a famous television personality, a respected congressman, droves of reporters, and industrial executives — but it was the consumers themselves who were ultimately blamed.

Like most scares, the toilet paper fiasco all started with an unsubstantiated rumor. In November of 1973, several news agencies reported a tissue shortage in Japan. Initially, the release went unnoticed and nobody seemed to put much stock in it — save for one Harold V. Froelich. Froelich, a 41-year-old Republican congressman, presided over a heavily-forested district in Wisconsin and had recently been receiving complaints from constituents about a reduced stream of pulp paper. On November 16th, he released his own press statement — ‘The Government Printing Office is facing a serious shortage of paper’ — to little fanfare.

However, a few weeks later, Froelich uncovered a document that indicated the government’s National Buying Center had fallen far short of securing bids to provide toilet paper for its troops and bureaucrats. On December 11, he issued another, more serious press release:

‘The U.S. may face a serious shortage of toilet paper within a few months…we hope we don’t have to ration toilet tissue…a toilet paper shortage is no laughing matter. It is a problem that will potentially touch every American.’

In the climate of shortages, oil scares, and economic duress, Froelich’s claim was absorbed without an iota of doubt, and the media ran wild with it.”

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From the November 15, 1909 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Divorce on the singular grounds of fraud in the marriage contract was awarded Saturday to Dr. Alice Bush of Oakland. The fraud lay in the fact that R.K. Morgan, Dr. Bush’s ‘husband,’ who came from New York City, proved to be a woman. Morgan was not more than half Dr. Bush’s age, but the two had been constant companions.

They were married in 1905. The complaint does not state when the wife discovered her ‘husband’s’ sex, although it declares she was ‘was, is now, and always has been, female.’

Morgan has disappeared, and Dr. Bush refuses to discuss her adventure in matrimony.”

 

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“He projectile vomited at least 2x a day for the first year of his life.”

Any doctors reading this? (NYC)

I know this is probably one of the most bizarre posts you’ll ever see, but I’m honestly to the point where I will seek answers anywhere.

My 3 year old son has had a profoundly sensitive gag reflex since birth. When he was born, he projectile vomited at least 2x a day for the first year of his life. We were told he would outgrow it but it has continued. He doesn’t vomit as much as he used to, but he still gags at the drop of a hat, eats almost nothing, lives almost exclusively on formula (with the exception of crackers and a few other dry foods), can’t brush his teeth, etc.

We have taken him to 2 gastroenterologists, an ENT, a neurologist, had 2 swallow studies done, had him put under for a full exam by the gastro and ENT last year, etc. No one can find any physical reason for his problem.

He has been on reflux meds (it is not reflux) and he went to feeding therapy for a long time and it did nothing for him and his therapist said it was a waste of time.

Now, he’s about to turn 3. He’s an incredibly smart and engaging little boy. He’s sweet and loving and fun. He is advanced intellectually. He has no other clear developmental problems that anyone can detect.

However — He can’t eat most foods!!! He can’t brush his teeth. He’s terrified of putting things in his mouth. If you even mention to him that you are going to brush YOUR OWN teeth in the bathroom, the thought of it makes him gag.

No one has any answers for me. I am tired of bringing him to doctors and having them shrug their shoulders and say “there’s nothing we can do.”

I just thought maybe, just maybe, someone reading this in their down time at work might have an answer. Maybe you are a doctor with a slow schedule today or a nurse or technician who has seen this before. Just send me ideas. Send me names of doctors I might be able to take him to that you would recommend. Send me anything you think might help.

I feel like there should be some kind of medication I can give him to lessen his gag reflex.


Physicist Louis Del Monte believes the Singularity will arrive inside the next three decades. Well, perhaps. Here’s an excerpt from the first part of his series of posts about the coming AI:

“After several starts and stops and two AI winters, AI researchers and engineers started to get it right. Instead of building a do-it-all intelligent machine, they focused on solving specific applications. To address the applications, researchers pursued various approaches for specific intelligent systems. After accomplishing that, they began to integrate the approaches, which brought us closer to artificial ‘general’ intelligence, equal to human intelligence.

Many people not engaged in professional scientific research believe that scientists and engineers follow a strict orderly process, sometimes referred to as the ‘scientific method,’ to develop and apply new technology. Let me dispel that paradigm. It is simply not true. In many cases a scientific field is approached via many different angles, and the approaches depend on the experience and paradigms of those involved. This is especially true in regard to AI research, as will soon become apparent.

The most important concept to understand is that no unifying theory guides AI research. Researchers disagree among themselves, and we have more questions than answers. Here are two major questions that still haunt AI research.

  • Should AI simulate human intelligence, incorporating the sciences of psychology and neurology, or is human biology irrelevant?
  • Can AI, simulating a human mind, be developed using simple principles, such as logic and mechanical reasoning, or does it require solving a large number of completely unrelated problems?

Why do the above questions still haunt AI?”

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From Daniel E. Slotnick’s New York Times obituary of “America’s Greatest Psychic” Kenny Kingston, who was full of life and other stuff:

“An elfin man with a shock of reddish-blond hair that lightened over time, Mr. Kingston was a regular guest on television shows like The Merv Griffin Show and Entertainment Tonight for years and built successful businesses around his professed spiritual abilities.

Beginning in the early 1990s, he promoted a psychic hotline through late-night television infomercials that made about $4 million a month at its peak, Ms. Porter said. He also wrote books, including Sweet Spirits (1978), its title a phrase he used to describe both the departed and the living. He charged $400 or so for private sessions.

Mr. Kingston said he held readings for John Wayne, Whoopi Goldberg and the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, among other celebrities. Some clients, he said, kept in contact after they died. He told a CNN interviewer that Marilyn Monroe was studying philosophy in the afterlife and looking forward to being reincarnated, possibly as a man.

It was not his least plausible celebrity update. He told Los Angeles magazine in 1999 that long-dead actors like Errol Flynn and Orson Welles still frequented the Musso & Frank Grill in Hollywood. He collected many such revelations in a book he titled I Still Talk To….

He also predicted Academy Award winners — erratically.

‘That proves I’m no charlatan,’ he told a Los Angeles Times columnist in 1988. ‘They’re never wrong. I’m just a happy medium!’

Mr. Kingston was born on Feb. 15, 1927, in Buffalo. His mother taught him to read tea leaves when he was about 4, and he was coached in spiritualism by Mae West, a family friend, Ms. Porter said.”

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“I went into a trance the other night…”:

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Did capitalism save despotism? An authoritarian regime like China is communist in name only, a place of whirlwind of investment and rampant deregulation envied by some American putzes who don’t seem to understand human rights or environmentalism or even history. Perhaps extreme pollution will eventually cause unrest, but the people seem to have been placated for now from pushing back at a non-democratic government by material gains. Not that there’s not victories in such things, but let’s not confuse it with freedom. The opening of Michael Ignatieff’s “Are The Authoritarians Winning?” at the New York Review of Books:

“In the 1930s travelers returned from Mussolini’s Italy, Stalin’s Russia, and Hitler’s Germany praising the hearty sense of common purpose they saw there, compared to which their own democracies seemed weak, inefficient, and pusillanimous.

Democracies today are in the middle of a similar period of envy and despondency. Authoritarian competitors are aglow with arrogant confidence. In the 1930s, Westerners went to Russia to admire Stalin’s Moscow subway stations; today they go to China to take the bullet train from Beijing to Shanghai, and just as in the 1930s, they return wondering why autocracies can build high-speed railroad lines seemingly overnight, while democracies can take forty years to decide they cannot even begin. The Francis Fukuyama moment—when in 1989 Westerners were told that liberal democracy was the final form toward which all political striving was directed—now looks like a quaint artifact of a vanished unipolar moment.

For the first time since the end of the cold war, the advance of democratic constitutionalism has stopped. The army has staged a coup in Thailand and it’s unclear whether the generals will allow democracy to take root in Burma. For every African state, like Ghana, where democratic institutions seem secure, there is a Mali, a Côte d’Ivoire, and a Zimbabwe, where democracy is in trouble.

In Latin America, democracy has sunk solid roots in Chile, but in Mexico and Colombia it is threatened by violence, while in Argentina it struggles to shake off the dead weight of Peronism. In Brazil, the millions who took to the streets last June to protest corruption seem to have had no impact on the cronyism in Brasília. In the Middle East, democracy has a foothold in Tunisia, but in Syria there is chaos; in Egypt, plebiscitary authoritarianism rules; and in the monarchies, absolutism is ascendant.”

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In a new Ask Me Anything at Reddit, Richard Dawkins and Lawrence Krauss, subjects of the new documentary The Unbelievers, hold forth, as one might expect, on science and religion. One comment on Krauss’ remarks about Islam: While fundamentalism in a technological world is a challenge, I wonder how much violence the world’s 1.6 billion Muslims are responsible for and how much comes from those who follow other faiths, including secular “gods” (e.g., money)? And that question comes from someone like myself who’s seriously irreligious. A few exchanges from the AMA follow.

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Question:

Do you guys believe the current state of the USA, theologically, is at a dangerous crossroads? I as a UK resident am seriously scared of America politically

Lawrence Krauss:

I’m not as worried. In spite of the fact that fundamentalists are the loudest, all polls continue to suggest that the number of unbelievers continues to grow in the US.

Richard Dawkins:

Superstitious and supernatural beliefs become more and more dangerous as advanced technology becomes available to ideologically or faith-driven fanatics. The distinguished astronomer Martin Rees gives humanity a 50% chance of surviving through the 21st century.

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Question:

You (and Sam Harris and others) have often spoken about the unique threats of Islam compared to the other world religions. Most liberals are silent on Islam – or keep repeating that all religions are the same, with “fundamentalism” being the problem. 

Why do you think this is? How do you see the challenge in tackling Islam shaping up at the moment?

Lawrence Krauss:

There is no doubt that Islamic fundamentalism is a huge problem in the current world.

In many ways it’s not that different from other fundamental religions, it’s just 500 years behind Christianity.

In that regard, unfortunately the current world is one in which global communication is possible and dangerous new technologies exist. And that is the key problem.

Ultimately, I suspect that what’s driving Islamic fundamentalism are economic inequities. And, as happens in the first world, once people’s standard of living improves they find wonderful replacements for fundamentalism.

Of course, all of that is nice to say in principle… but in practice it is going to take a long time and a lot of pain before the problem of Islamic fundamentalism can really be addressed.

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Question:

What is one discovery or innovation that you hope that humanity will achieve in your lifetime?

Lawrence Krauss:

Discovery: to know whether our universe is unique or not.

Innovation: to act globally to solve global problems [like climate change and ridding the world of nuclear weapons].

Richard Dawkins:

Explain consciousness and its evolution. Another one that I think has a realistic chance of being solved, is the origin of life

Lawrence Krauss:

I echo Richard. I actually think the origin of life will be solved in our lifetime, probably in the next decade.•

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“Science is wonderful, science is beautiful. Religion is not wonderful, religion is not beautiful.”

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Rasputin must have been a complicated dad, huh? The Russian mystic’s elder daughter, Maria, had a wild and woolly life as you might expect, what with the political revolution and the circus-animal training and all. She died in 1977 in the Silver Lake neighborhood of Los Angeles, having spent the final years of her life collecting Social Security checks and complaining bitterly about communists to Hollywood gossip columnists. Here’s a portrait of her at age 69 from the November 12, 1968 Daily Progress of Charlottesville, Virginia:

We had a pleasant encounter with history last week by taking the daughter of Rasputin, “the mad monk of Russia,” to the Gaslight for a hamburger.

She was in town over the weekend with her friend Patricia Barham, a film and theatre columnist from Los Angeles. While here, they tried and failed to get the apparent Grand Duchess Anastasia to leave her Albemarle County farm for L.A. smog.

The apparent Grand Duchess is, of course, Anna Anderson, the woman who has claimed for 50 years to be the surviving daughter of the last Russian royal family.

If you missed the social news of the summer, Anna moved here from Germany in August and may settle permanently in Albemarle.

Rasputin’s daughter, Maria, has been in the U.S. since 1937 and in Los Angeles since 1965. As was reported during her earlier visit here in August, she came to this country as a circus animal trainer with Ringling Bros.

We learned this trip she was a member of the Hagenbach Brothers animal act, a job she took after several years touring Europe as a Russian folk dancer.

Making a living was a problem for Russian emigres during the 20s and 30s and Maria grabbed at an offer to go on the stage. Girls like Maria who spent their childhood having tea with the Czar’s children every Wednesday weren’t trained to make a living, but Maria had some talent and endless spunk, it appears.

For although Maria was mauled by a bear in Peru, Indiana, she stayed with the circus until the traveling show played Miami, Florida, where she quit and went to work as a riveter in a defense shipyard, she related Saturday night.

She stayed in defense plant work until 1955 when she was laid off because of her age, 66. Since then she has been working in hospitals and baby sitting for friends.

Since credibility gap had yawned intrusively into the conversation, we asked her how she got into the animal training game, and where she got the courage to whip up on lions and tigers. She learned in London, was her unelaborated answer though she noted, ‘After you’ve been the target of a revolution, nothing scares you anymore.’

Gregori Rasputin, her father, was tied in with the Russian royal court as religious advisor.

That lasted until personal enemies decided Rasputin-style religion was going too far and they ended him in a legendary assassination said to involve poisoning, stabbing, and drowning.

Maria said she had it rough in the Bolshevik revolution the year after her father was murdered and eventually left Russia for Berlin, Bucharest, Paris, London, and Miami.

Her English vocabulary isn’t all it might be, she readily admits. She says she speaks Russian best but also German and French. When the time came to write a book – and virtually every notable Russian emigre wrote at least one in the decade 1925-1935 – she dictated her memoirs and the result was, My Father, an anecdotal book on Rasputin published in 1932.

Her friend Pat Barham is in the throws of re-write on a second Rasputin book based on Maria’s recollections. She intends to call it, The Rape of Rasputin and described it as ‘sexsational and exciting’ but not funny.

Maria claims a leaning to be psychic and Pat affirms that on election morning two weeks ago, Maria said that Mrs. Richard Nixon had come to her in a dream and smiled. Maria has ‘signs’ like that often, Pat said.

“Little Mother,” Pat calls Maria for her continual worrying about handbags within reach of strangers in restaurants, suitcases open in hotel rooms, and columnists getting a comfortable chair for interviews.

Since being interviewed is an old game for Rasputin’s only legitimate daughter, she talks willingly and seemingly without reservation. This prompted Gaslight owner John Tuck to volunteer that the father of one of his boyhood chums was one of the band of assassins that did Rasputin in.

‘Why didn’t he like my father?’ Maria asked with genuine curiosity. John didn’t know, or at least didn’t say.

“My father was a kind man,” Maria later said when we returned to her hotel. “Once he was savagely attacked by the most powerful newspaper in Russia. Friends asked why he didn’t close the paper down since he could have done it like this,” she said with a snap of fingers.

“Let them write about me,” her father reportedly said. “Let them make money.” Maria described him as “a kind man who would never have closed the paper.”

Historians may not agree Rasputin was kind but there’s no doubt Maria is thoughtful. “When you leave the hotel, stop at the desk,” she said as the interview closed.

We did and found waiting a pot of white chrysanthemums to carry home through the season’s first snow flurry.•

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Footage of Maria as an animal trainer:

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