propagandawar:

MISSING IN CORPORATE MEDIA
Completely absent from corporate media this week was any mention of the significant spike in radioactive contamination of groundwater at Fukushima following Typhoon Phanfone. According to The Japan Times, readings were ten times higher than the previous week. Of course, this info is ignored by those who support and profit from nuclear power.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Mainstream US Corporate Media Ignore Increased Fukushima Water Radioactivity http://www.truth-out.org/buzzflash/commentary/mainstream-western-media-ignore-increased-fukushima-water-radioactivity
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOURCE: Liberty Underground News Service http://luvnews.info/Join.htm
Tell your friends about LUV News because some people just don’t get it!

propagandawar:

MISSING IN CORPORATE MEDIA

Completely absent from corporate media this week was any mention of the significant spike in radioactive contamination of groundwater at Fukushima following Typhoon Phanfone. According to The Japan Times, readings were ten times higher than the previous week. Of course, this info is ignored by those who support and profit from nuclear power.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mainstream US Corporate Media Ignore Increased Fukushima Water Radioactivity http://www.truth-out.org/buzzflash/commentary/mainstream-western-media-ignore-increased-fukushima-water-radioactivity

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SOURCE: Liberty Underground News Service http://luvnews.info/Join.htm

Tell your friends about LUV News because some people just don’t get it!

blastedheath:

Daniele Galliano (Italian, b. 1961), Senza parole, 2008 . Oil on canvas, 100 x 70 cm.

blastedheath:

Daniele Galliano (Italian, b. 1961), Senza parole, 2008 . Oil on canvas, 100 x 70 cm.

brianmichaelbendis:

sequentialsmart:

Pages from Scarlet, written by Brian Michael Bendis, art by Alex Maleev.It’s a truly stand-out comic that can turn something as basic as introducing a character’s back story, into a visually memorable sequence.  
At first glace, it just looks like fifteen panels in standard layout. But it’s really fifteen snapshots of the defining moments and characteristics in Scarlet’s life to date. Note that the last panel of a Portland landmark, which breaks the rhythm established so far, is enlarged to emphasize the most telling quality about her.
It’s exposition done as only a comic can do.

https://www.comixology.com/Scarlet/comics-series/4532
Zoom Info
brianmichaelbendis:

sequentialsmart:

Pages from Scarlet, written by Brian Michael Bendis, art by Alex Maleev.It’s a truly stand-out comic that can turn something as basic as introducing a character’s back story, into a visually memorable sequence.  
At first glace, it just looks like fifteen panels in standard layout. But it’s really fifteen snapshots of the defining moments and characteristics in Scarlet’s life to date. Note that the last panel of a Portland landmark, which breaks the rhythm established so far, is enlarged to emphasize the most telling quality about her.
It’s exposition done as only a comic can do.

https://www.comixology.com/Scarlet/comics-series/4532
Zoom Info
brianmichaelbendis:

sequentialsmart:

Pages from Scarlet, written by Brian Michael Bendis, art by Alex Maleev.It’s a truly stand-out comic that can turn something as basic as introducing a character’s back story, into a visually memorable sequence.  
At first glace, it just looks like fifteen panels in standard layout. But it’s really fifteen snapshots of the defining moments and characteristics in Scarlet’s life to date. Note that the last panel of a Portland landmark, which breaks the rhythm established so far, is enlarged to emphasize the most telling quality about her.
It’s exposition done as only a comic can do.

https://www.comixology.com/Scarlet/comics-series/4532
Zoom Info

brianmichaelbendis:

sequentialsmart:

Pages from Scarlet, written by Brian Michael Bendis, art by Alex Maleev.

It’s a truly stand-out comic that can turn something as basic as introducing a character’s back story, into a visually memorable sequence.  

At first glace, it just looks like fifteen panels in standard layout. But it’s really fifteen snapshots of the defining moments and characteristics in Scarlet’s life to date. Note that the last panel of a Portland landmark, which breaks the rhythm established so far, is enlarged to emphasize the most telling quality about her.

It’s exposition done as only a comic can do.

https://www.comixology.com/Scarlet/comics-series/4532

The Culture High - Debunking Lies About Marijuana

The Culture High is a documentary that tears into the very fibre of modern day marijuana prohibition to reveal the truth behind the arguments and motives governing both those who support and those who oppose the existing pot laws. Culture High Director Brett Harvey and Producer Adam Scorgie talk to Cenk Uygur about the longstanding propaganda against marijuana and why technology has enabled people to tear those arguments against marijuana health and safety apart. How has the war on marijuana failed? The Culture High uses interviews with ex-police officers and DEA agents about how they’re incentivized to go for possession arrests over all other crimes. How can people enact change in the way marijuana is distributed and penalized?

Learn more about The Culture High: http://www.theculturehigh.com/

Ursula K. Le Guin on Being a Man

Who are we when we, to borrow Hannah Arendt’s enduring words, “are together with no one but ourselves”? However much we might exert ourselves on learning to stop letting others define us, the definitions continue to be hurled at us — definitions predicated on who we should be in relation to some concrete or abstract other, some ideal, some benchmark beyond the boundaries of who we already are.

One of the most important authors of our time, Ursula K. Le Guin has influenced such celebrated literary icons as Neil Gaiman and Salman Rushdie. At her best — and to seek the “best” in an altogether spectacular body of work seems almost antithetical — she blends anthropology, social psychology, and sheer literary artistry to explore complex, often difficult subjects with remarkable grace. Subjects, for instance, like who we are and what gender really means as we — men, women, ungendered souls — try to inhabit our constant tussle between inner and outer, individual and social, private and performative. This is what Le Guin examines in an extraordinary essay titled “Introducing Myself,” which Le Guin first wrote as a performance piece in the 1980s and later updated for the beautifully titled, beautifully written, beautifully wide-ranging 2004 collection The Wave in the Mind: Talks and Essays on the Writer, the Reader, and the Imagination (public library). To speak of a subject so common by birth and so minced by public discourse in a way that is completely original and completely compelling is no small feat — in fact, it is the kind of feat of writing Jack Kerouac must have had in mind when he contemplated the crucial difference between genius and talent.

Le Guin writes:

I am a man. Now you may think I’ve made some kind of silly mistake about gender, or maybe that I’m trying to fool you, because my first name ends in a, and I own three bras, and I’ve been pregnant five times, and other things like that that you might have noticed, little details. But details don’t matter… I predate the invention of women by decades. Well, if you insist on pedantic accuracy, women have been invented several times in widely varying localities, but the inventors just didn’t know how to sell the product. Their distribution techniques were rudimentary and their market research was nil, and so of course the concept just didn’t get off the ground. Even with a genius behind it an invention has to find its market, and it seemed like for a long time the idea of women just didn’t make it to the bottom line. Models like the Austen and the Brontë were too complicated, and people just laughed at the Suffragette, and the Woolf was way too far ahead of its time.

Noting that when she was born (1929), “there actually were only men” — lest we forget, even the twentieth century’s greatest public intellectuals of the female gender used the pronouns “he” to refer to the whole lot of human beings — Le Guin plays with this notion of the universal pronoun:

That’s who I am. I am the generic he, as in, “If anybody needs an abortion he will have to go to another state,” or “A writer knows which side his bread is buttered on.” That’s me, the writer, him. I am a man. Not maybe a first-rate man. I’m perfectly willing to admit that I may be in fact a kind of second-rate or imitation man, a Pretend-a-Him. As a him, I am to a genuine male him as a microwaved fish stick is to a whole grilled Chinook salmon.

Le Guin turns to the problem of the body, which is indeed problematic in the context of this Generic He:

I admit it, I am actually a very poor imitation or substitute man, and you could see it when I tried to wear those army surplus clothes with ammunition pockets that were trendy and I looked like a hen in a pillowcase. I am shaped wrong. People are supposed to be lean. You can’t be too thin, everybody says so, especially anorexics. People are supposed to be lean and taut, because that’s how men generally are, lean and taut, or anyhow that’s how a lot of men start out and some of them even stay that way. And men are people, people are men, that has been well established, and so people, real people, the right kind of people, are lean. But I’m really lousy at being people, because I’m not lean at all but sort of podgy, with actual fat places. I am untaut.

For an example of someone who did Man right, Le Guin points to Hemingway, He with “the beard and the guns and the wives and the little short sentences,” and returns to her own insufficient Manness with a special wink at semicolons and a serious gleam at the significance of how we die:

I don’t have a gun and I don’t have even one wife and my sentences tend to go on and on and on, with all this syntax in them. Ernest Hemingway would have died rather than have syntax. Or semicolons. I use a whole lot of half-assed semicolons; there was one of them just now; that was a semicolon after “semicolons,” and another one after “now.”

And another thing. Ernest Hemingway would have died rather than get old. And he did. He shot himself. A short sentence. Anything rather than a long sentence, a life sentence. Death sentences are short and very, very manly. Life sentences aren’t. They go on and on, all full of syntax and qualifying clauses and confusing references and getting old. And that brings up the real proof of what a mess I have made of being a man: I am not even young. Just about the time they finally started inventing women, I started getting old. And I went right on doing it. Shamelessly. I have allowed myself to get old and haven’t done one single thing about it, with a gun or anything.

But between the half-assed semicolons and the guns lies the crux of the gender-imitation problem — the tyranny of how we think and talk about sex:

Sex is even more boring as a spectator sport than all the other spectator sports, even baseball. If I am required to watch a sport instead of doing it, I’ll take show jumping. The horses are really good-looking. The people who ride them are mostly these sort of nazis, but like all nazis they are only as powerful and successful as the horse they are riding, and it is after all the horse who decides whether to jump that five-barred gate or stop short and let the nazi fall off over its neck. Only usually the horse doesn’t remember it has the option. Horses aren’t awfully bright. But in any case, show jumping and sex have a good deal in common, though you usually can only get show jumping on American TV if you can pick up a Canadian channel, which is not true of sex. Given the option, though I often forget that I have an option, I certainly would watch show jumping and do sex. Never the other way round. But I’m too old now for show jumping, and as for sex, who knows? I do; you don’t.

Le Guin parlays this subtle humor into her most serious and piercing point, partway between the tragic and the hopeful — the issue of aging:

Here I am, old, when I wrote this I was sixty years old, “a sixty-year-old smiling public man,” as Yeats said, but then, he was a man. And now I am over seventy. And it’s all my own fault. I get born before they invent women, and I live all these decades trying so hard to be a good man that I forget all about staying young, and so I didn’t. And my tenses get all mixed up. I just am young and then all of a sudden I was sixty and maybe eighty, and what next?

Not a whole lot.

I keep thinking there must have been something that a real man could have done about it. Something short of guns, but more effective than Oil of Olay. But I failed. I did nothing. I absolutely failed to stay young. And then I look back on all my strenuous efforts, because I really did try, I tried hard to be a man, to be a good man, and I see how I failed at that. I am at best a bad man. An imitation phony second-rate him with a ten-hair beard and semicolons. And I wonder what was the use. Sometimes I think I might just as well give the whole thing up. Sometimes I think I might just as well exercise my option, stop short in front of the five-barred gate, and let the nazi fall off onto his head. If I’m no good at pretending to be a man and no good at being young, I might just as well start pretending that I am an old woman. I am not sure that anybody has invented old women yet; but it might be worth trying.

hifructosemag:

Bright flora bursts in Kent Williams’s paintings (featured in HF Vol. 21). Thick brushstrokes of hot pink, mint and navy hint at an arrangement of organic growths. Williams frequently positions his subjects in the outdoors, where they inhabit areas that seem wild and overgrown yet feel contained like miniature Edens. His characters fervently move as if enacting a frenetic dance performance, their motion captured by his expressive use of paint. While Williams has been widely recognized for his figurative work over the past 20 years, his first solo show with 101/Exhibit in Los Angeles, “How Human of You,” marks a shift into abstraction. Figures are still present in many of the works, but Williams removes the idea of time and place, instead suspending them in an imaginary space where his flamboyant color choices elicit a visceral, emotional response. See more on Hi-Fructose.
Zoom Info
hifructosemag:

Bright flora bursts in Kent Williams’s paintings (featured in HF Vol. 21). Thick brushstrokes of hot pink, mint and navy hint at an arrangement of organic growths. Williams frequently positions his subjects in the outdoors, where they inhabit areas that seem wild and overgrown yet feel contained like miniature Edens. His characters fervently move as if enacting a frenetic dance performance, their motion captured by his expressive use of paint. While Williams has been widely recognized for his figurative work over the past 20 years, his first solo show with 101/Exhibit in Los Angeles, “How Human of You,” marks a shift into abstraction. Figures are still present in many of the works, but Williams removes the idea of time and place, instead suspending them in an imaginary space where his flamboyant color choices elicit a visceral, emotional response. See more on Hi-Fructose.
Zoom Info
hifructosemag:

Bright flora bursts in Kent Williams’s paintings (featured in HF Vol. 21). Thick brushstrokes of hot pink, mint and navy hint at an arrangement of organic growths. Williams frequently positions his subjects in the outdoors, where they inhabit areas that seem wild and overgrown yet feel contained like miniature Edens. His characters fervently move as if enacting a frenetic dance performance, their motion captured by his expressive use of paint. While Williams has been widely recognized for his figurative work over the past 20 years, his first solo show with 101/Exhibit in Los Angeles, “How Human of You,” marks a shift into abstraction. Figures are still present in many of the works, but Williams removes the idea of time and place, instead suspending them in an imaginary space where his flamboyant color choices elicit a visceral, emotional response. See more on Hi-Fructose.
Zoom Info

hifructosemag:

Bright flora bursts in Kent Williams’s paintings (featured in HF Vol. 21). Thick brushstrokes of hot pink, mint and navy hint at an arrangement of organic growths. Williams frequently positions his subjects in the outdoors, where they inhabit areas that seem wild and overgrown yet feel contained like miniature Edens. His characters fervently move as if enacting a frenetic dance performance, their motion captured by his expressive use of paint. While Williams has been widely recognized for his figurative work over the past 20 years, his first solo show with 101/Exhibit in Los Angeles, “How Human of You,” marks a shift into abstraction. Figures are still present in many of the works, but Williams removes the idea of time and place, instead suspending them in an imaginary space where his flamboyant color choices elicit a visceral, emotional response. See more on Hi-Fructose.