Here‘s an article dealing with so-called “Cargo Cults” and how the “Johnson Cult” wasn’t one at all.

... 'cult' members often try to gain access to Western cargo through magical means, by mimicking European ways. Anthropologist Conrad Kottak notes that: "having observed Europeans' reverent treatment of flags and flagpoles, cult members began to worship flagpoles, believing them to be sacred towers capable of transmitting messages between living and dead. Natives constructed airstrips in order to entice planes bearing canned goods, portable radios, clothing, wristwatches, and motorcycles. Near the airstrip they built effigies of towers, airplanes, and tin-can radios. They talked into these cans in a magical attempt to establish radio contact with the gods".

I love it.

Painted directly onto the dollar bill. Very cool art from

Karmel Proost

I saw a most amazing band from New Jersey last night. Overfilled with three horns, accordian, percussion along rhythm section. Overdressed in sweaty suits and ties and garish party dresses, and over 30 as well. They rocked their asses off. World/Inferno Friendship Society.

If you visited google today, you probably are aware that today is Da Vinci’s birthday. His genius came back into conventional awareness by a popular book that blew the minds of a great many people who probably never heard of Robert Anton Wilson.

I might get around to reading the Da Vinci Codes one day, as I have heard it’s a real barnburner; but I am not in a real hurry to do so after starting it’s previous work, Angels and Demons. Yes, Codes is actually the second book of a series. Angels and Demons has to be the very worst book I have ever read — with the possible exception of Harbou’s Metropolis.

So if you like to cringe, be sure to check that one out.

Those smartass kids at MIT submitted a randomly generated paper titled: Rooter: A Methodology for the Typical Unification of Access Points and Redundancy to The 9th World Multi-Conference on Systemics, Cybernetics and Informatics and it got accepted.

They are scrapping together some money and plan to attend the conference to give a randomly computer generated talk. Those punks.

The Gods preserve us from this April 14th, Ruination Day. As remembered by a coupla precocious Nashville archivists: the sexy banjo-alto vocalist and songstress Gillian Welch and her preposition-and-article-filling-in henchman David Rawlings.

Ruination Day.

(more…)

Although one of my courses — Mi 6. DS — was scrapped because only 2 had signed up by the deadline, I’ve heard from four others who also signed up afterwards yet had not gotten word that the course was cut? How many others are in the same boat, I wonder. Why, with just another six stragglers the course could possibly be reopened. Then we could ambush a small merchant ship and go a-plunderin’ on the high seas.

Hoo boy — a calculator of fun.

Remember my mentioning Reverse Polish Notation today? Wiki sez…

So, (3 – 2) x 6 becomes:
6 (enter) 3 (enter) 2 – x

RPN is also a configurable option on the groovy freeware Calc98.

And:

Remember when you were thirteen and you and your geeky friends tried to spell obscene words upside-down with a calculator? I sure has hell did it at least. And this guy seems to have never outgrown it. Boobless indeed.

It was once said in the time of homesteaders and sharecroppers that in the hardest of times musicians did the best. Now, I’m no Leadbelly, but I’ve actually tried to support myself solely by music in the past–both times when Europe was dipping into recession. All I can say from the experience is that we all go down together–to paraphrase Billy Joel and also an 80’s Paul Mcartney song with animated frogs as well.

But when prominent musicians go down, critics sharpen up their fickle fangs and thin the herd with ravenous succinctness.

However, when a carnivour or scavenger devours it’s prey, it’s gone, baby. In the newer school of journalism, the fang-ed ones have also learned to chew the cud.
That would be what I refer to as “list journalism”, a phenomenon that always was there yet has come most presently into the public eye front-and-center in the last two or three years. The ten greatest books ever ever. The fifty greatest recorded drumsolos. The thousand coolest things a singer said during a guitar solo. The 12 sexiest holy relics.

That brings me to my point: even my favorite film and music critics, the lads and lasses at the Onion AV Club have fallen yet again prey to this wanker trend. Exibit G: a list of yesterday’s tomorrows–a short list of promising and paradigm-shifting music acts who didn’t shift any paradigm to speak of. Additional cynical information on how the survivors try to regroup and cash in on their long faded fame also available. That last bit is was sours the compassionate into crassness and really pisses me off.

Anyhoo, for any of my students who try to sludge through those critiques yet find them impassible, be consoled. I have one hell of a time making heads or tails through most of the stuff written in the Sax.

This afternoon, ’round two, as I was waiting for the tram out in front of my house, I heard a terrifying loud screech fill the air. I knew the sound and was not too terribly surprised to see two fighter jets overhead. They came in from the north northwest and made a beautiful lazy bank right heading south southwest.
They flew quite low, I would guess less than 200 meters–let’s say 300 to play it safe. Low enough that I could see they had stuff stuck under the wings–either fuel tanks or weaponry. I could see that they were single fuselage, non-swingwing types, but no indication as to whom these two jets belonged.

I’m only mentioning this because in all my years in Dresden I have never ever seen or heard of a warplane flying over this city these days. I wonder who they were, where they were going and why. It better have been for a damn good reason, too. I hope I never see a warplane flying over my city again, and certainly not this city.