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The 150 canals of Venice are its streets - roads for land passenger vehicles are nonexistent. Everyone must travel by foot or boat, tourists and locals alike.
Olympic and Wilton, southwestern edges of Koreatown.
While most people expect Buddhist monasteries to be a common sight in Koreatown, in reality they are rare, and ones with traditional architecture like this are nonexistent save for this one. Korean immigrants are more or less required to convert to Christianity, the religion of the white masters, upon arrival in America; in fact, social networking and other community bonding are impossible for Korean-Americans outside a church setting. I am actually surprised that Buddhism actually manages to exist among Korean-Americans.
The shopping mall to the left is filled with several Korean businesses, and feels similar to a neighborhood office building in a residential area of a South Korean city.
Winter (so far) has been weird. The cold and snow has been mostly nonexistent, and a week-long inversion has built in with little hope of it clearing out. On a foggy morning I visited the local reservoir with the vague hope of finding something to photograph.
Willard Bay is a fresh-water reservoir on the northern end of the Great Salt Lake.
I'm gobsmacked by several things here. First, the light was nonexistent. Yet the Sony A7RII performed extremely well at incredibly high ISO. Second, using knowledge developed around a digital Zone System, I knew precisely where I wanted the tonal values and was able to place them accordingly. Third, I am happy to confirm the dynamic range of the sensor extends usefully to below Zone 0 (Zone -2!), even at such high ISO settings. Fourth, 1950s German optics can do the trick. These images were made using a triplet wide angle. Who would design such a thing and make it work? Micro-contrast is something to be seen, otherwise you wouldn't believe it.
my passports are fatter than most (like me, i guess). they both had pages added to them twice.
and yes, that one is green. i had a green passport. it's ben franklin commemorative. he came up with the idea of a passort, you know. tho' i once stood on the border of turkey and greece and a turkish border guard said, "green passport, very bad, very bad" and made a cutting motion across his throat. however, i never found out why it was bad, since that was the extent of his english and my turkish was nonexistent. but i'm still here to tell about it, so i guess it wasn't that bad.
Shierholz discusses possible solutions for wage stagnation.
Since the 1970s, the typical U.S. worker has experienced either a minimal or nonexistent increase in wages. What can and should be done to promote the economic growth that will lead to higher earnings for more American workers? How do we ensure that these gains are broadly shared, resulting in robust wage growth for as many workers as possible?
On September 26, The Hamilton Project at Brookings hosted a forum on wage growth in The United States. The forum began with introductory remarks by former U.S. Treasury Secretary Robert E. Rubin, and a fireside chat with Jason Furman, professor of practice, Harvard Kennedy School, and Lawrence Mishel, president, Economic Policy Institute. The fireside chat was moderated by Catherine Rampell, opinion writer, The Washington Post. A panel discussion will follow the fireside chat, featuring panelists including: Jared Bernstein, senior fellow, Center on Budget and Policy Priorities; Robert Greenstein, founder and president, Center on Budget and Policy Priorities; and Heidi Shierholz; senior economist and director of policy, Economic Policy Institute; the panel was moderated by Jay Shambaugh, director, The Hamilton Project.
In conjunction with this event, The Hamilton Project released a new framing paper exploring wage trends and the economic forces that underlie them.
Photo credit: Ralph Alswang
Tuincentrum Leurs
Air plants, or Tillandsia, are a fascinating genus of evergreen, perennial flowering plants belonging to the bromeliad family, which also includes the pineapple 🍍. They are native to diverse environments across the Americas, ranging from tropical rainforests and mountain ranges to deserts. Unlike most plants, air plants are epiphytes (or lithophytes), meaning they don't require soil to grow. Instead, they use their short, wiry roots solely to anchor themselves to other plants, rocks, or other surfaces. This unique adaptation allows them to survive and thrive in places where soil is scarce or nonexistent.
The defining feature of air plants is their remarkable ability to absorb water and nutrients directly from the atmosphere. Their leaves are covered in specialized, microscopic scales called trichomes, which look like fuzzy hairs and give many species a silvery or grayish appearance. These trichomes are highly efficient at trapping moisture from rainfall, fog, or even high humidity in the air. This characteristic is why air plants must have excellent air circulation; after watering, they must dry out quickly to prevent rot. Furthermore, air plants have an efficient form of photosynthesis called CAM photosynthesis, which allows them to close their stomata during the day to conserve water and open them at night to "breathe" in carbon dioxide.
Caring for air plants is relatively simple, as they are very low-maintenance. The key requirements are bright, indirect sunlight, good air circulation, and consistent moisture. Watering is typically done by soaking the plant in a bowl of water for 20-40 minutes once a week or by thoroughly misting them a few times a week, depending on the environment. Air plants are also popular for their decorative versatility. Because they don't need soil, they can be displayed in creative ways, such as in glass terrariums, on seashells, or mounted on driftwood. Air plants generally bloom only once in their lifetime, producing a colorful, often vibrant flower stalk before they begin to produce new "pups" or offsets, which can be separated to grow into new plants.
This town was in right in the middle of the mountains, and while you cannot tell from the photo, it was pouring when we got there. We were hoping for a restaurant, but it was closed or nonexistent. With all the rain in the area over the last several weeks, some hillsides had given way entirely. Our ride to San Martino in Freddana on SP1 to the base of the climb was covered in mud from what looked to be a pretty catastrophic landslide.
Believe it or not, this photo was taken with the same camera used for the photo below. I cropped it to square because the vignetting was so large. I was rather baffled at this result, although I suppose it makes sense with the ultra-wide angle -- yet this one is more squashed than the other.
On the left is me being ghostlyly obese, and Scott on the right attempting to be nonexistent, just because he can sit more still than I can. Exposure was something between three and five minutes, on Ilford multigrade photo paper.
And credit for the title goes to Scott.
I don’t normally do patches, emblems, decals, etc., but this one was so cool & unique…and affordable, that I just had to get it. And it’s big,~7.5”! I assume once worn on the back of an employee’s work coveralls. I’m tempted to gently wash it, but don’t dare.
Not surprisingly, anything pertaining to it, like origins, history, or specifics regarding “Apollo Spaceborne Products” is pretty much nonexistent. Even information about Autonetics and its contributions to the Apollo Program are quite vague & generic. So, my date range is a total SWAG.
What little there is follows:
“Autonetics was a division of North American Aviation that designed and built guidance and navigation systems for the Apollo program, including the Apollo spacecraft. As a leader in precision electronics and instruments like gyroscopes, Autonetics' expertise was crucial for reliably guiding spacecraft on their complex lunar missions.”
Above per Google’s AI generated “Autonetics” query.
Additionally, from Boeing’s Autonetics Memorial “brochure/flyer”:
“…innovations provided the systems that the Apollo astronauts used to determine the exact position of the lunar module during rendezvous and docking.”
And:
“Autonetics also contributed to space exploration, including rendezvous and docking systems for Apollo…”
At/From:
bos.ocgov.com/legacy3/newsletters/pdf/Honoring_the_Legacy...
Credit: don’t really know who/what to cite
Additionally:
www.collectspace.com/ubb/Forum38/HTML/001197.html
Credit: collectSPACE website
And…the specific Autonetics contribution to Apollo referenced by Scott Schneeweis in the above citation:
www.spaceaholic.com/index.php/Detail/Object/Show/object_i...
Credit: Scott Schneeweis/Spaceaholic website
If the amount of effort that went into taking a photograph correlated directly with the quality of the image captured, then I have no doubt that you would be looking at a masterpiece! My brother and I slogged our way up Caisteal Abhail from North Glen Sannox via a route that I'm sure will never be taken by anyone again. After a short time of looking for the (nonexistent) path, we opted to take a more direct route and headed straight for the summit up some extremely steep terrain. Needless to say I was exhausted by the time we reached the top but the magnificent views were well worth the hard work.
Taken using a Canon 5D Mk II and EF 24-105 f4 L IS USM in conjunction with a Heliopan circular polariser and Lee ND grads.
the drive home past the dry lake
see it with a boat on it..
See a reference here..
science.anu.edu.au/whats-on/research-stories/lessons-lake
But in the late 60s the family fun was disrupted as the water level began to drop dangerously low.
“We kept waterskiing right up until the fence lines started to show,” says Pillans. “I remember quite clearly a boat hitting a big rock one day and it just sank as I watched. That was the end of it.”
The boats have never returned and, apart from a half-hearted fill in the late 80s, the water component of Lake George has been largely nonexistent ever since.
Cronan Ranch Trails Park:
www.coloma.com/recreation/riverside-parks/cronan-ranch-tr...
It's December and the American River water level should be way above these rocks. We haven't had a significant rainfall since last spring and the snow level in the higher elevations of the California Sierra Nevada Mountains is practically nonexistent. It's beginning to look like it could very well be a disastrous summer for us here. The wildfires have already started in southern California. Pray for us folks, PLEASE…we need rain, NOW!!!
All images are the property of ARDATH'S ARTISTIC ENTERPRISES© and ARDATH WINTEROWD PHOTOGRAPHS©
Using these images without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000)
All of my photographs are Copyrighted and All Rights Reserved. They may not be used or reproduced publicly or privately in any way without my written permission.
This picture makes me happy because It is perfect in its own way. I was walking back from practice and for just a moment all of my stress was nonexistent. It made me realize how lucky I am to go to such a great school and that God has blessed me with so much. #walshtheology
It's getting to be that time of year again when I think of going turkey hunting with old George.
George was my grandparent's neighbor in Pittsfield, Illinois. He drove a Cavalier Wagon that he believed could not get stuck, and depending on the time of year it would be filled with hunting and fishing odds and ends. I most vividly remember it in late spring, containing several 2x4's of varying lengths tethered together by twine and camouflage burlap, piles of odd sized hunting clothes, and a turkey decoy named Henrietta. I would wake up very early, so that the topic of the day and reason for any misfortune would not be that I slept in and made us late. Sitting on the tailgate of Pop's pickup and looking out the garage door window I'd wait for the old maroon wagon to rumble up the driveway from next door. As the garage door went up and let the cold air in the shivers would wash over me as I carried my stuff to the wagon and found a place for it in the back seat.
The passenger door would swing open before I was given the chance to open it, and the smell of George's cigars would wash over me. I've never been fond of cigar or cigarette smoke, but I never felt reason to complain about the little cigars George lit early in the morning and chewed on until the sun went down. I never, ever saw him light one. I can see the package sitting there in the cubby hole in the dash with no more that two of the little cigars in it, half obscured by an ancient can of bug spray. Finding a place for my feet was always a bit of a challenge because there were always shell boxes and papers on the floor boards. He'd always say "Bill up? Making a pot of coffee?" I'd show him the mountain dew can that was a fixture on my person and he'd grumble about it. "Want one of these?" he'd ask as he motioned to the little brown nub that had already created a brown ring on the corner of his mouth. Many times I had considered it, but always turned him down.
Conversation for drive out to the timber almost always consisted of a combination of information gathered from the landowners and people living nearby, as well as his recollections from hunting wherever we were headed in previous years. I never got a word in. Each new piece of information that was divulged was accompanied by a sharp tap from the back of his hand to the very same spot on my upper arm, which on long rides would begin to ache. He'd always ask about the young ladies. Even though I couldn't usually see his face in the dark I knew he was giving me the eyebrows as he nudged me with his elbow and inquisitive "Eh? Eh?" Every time we went hunting it was to a different spot usually quite a ways outside of Pittsfield, and even though the heater was always blasting I'd shiver. Sometimes the moon was still up and it would illuminate the roadsides. The cornfields and stock lots gave way to hilly tall grass pasturelands and deep hollows as we grew nearer to the destination. George always had his speculations about the day based on what the weather man said and what he'd heard about at coffee the week before, and they'd pour from him as the sun drew nearer to the horizon.
The road always ended in the grey light just before the sun began to color the sky. George would put out his cigar and pop it back in his mouth. He'd fling the door open, wrestle to get to his feet, slam the car door so hard I wondered if it would ever open again, and then cut loose with an often surprising imitation of a barred owl that always ended with a big hacking cough. Whether it caused a turkey to shock gobble or not, and it often did, there would be a motion and he would rasp "Over there!" He'd call me to the back of the wagon and begin hastily loading our gear into my outstretched arms. While I struggled to contain and carry everything George would get a head start and continue his long gargling "Whoo-ah's" as he went. It didn't matter where the toms called back from, he'd always already have a good spot picked out.
On one particular morning we'd set up our little blind in the lowest corner of a newly planted bean field. Though he remembered the location and previous hunts well, George could never remember which trees were the best to lean on. We would set the blind up in the dark at least once before thinking better of our situation and moving it. As the sun came up and lit the the thin clouds I could finally see Old Zebrun. Not having the mindset of young hunters like myself, George never even considered matching his camouflage to the season or situation. He wore the large blotchy patterns from before hunting was big business. Guys my age call those patterns "Old Skool" and wear them for fun and to pay homage to our hunting forefathers. From any number of his pockets would come calls to be arranged around us so that they were easily found by feeling when taking our eyes off the bird wasn't an option. He had box calls, and friction calls, locators, you name it. Most he'd saved from hunting buddies, and most made an awful thin sound since they were usually handled incorrectly or had been wet. One thing about George's turkey hunting collection amazed and baffled me more than anything else. Henrietta. She was an old, and I mean right after they were carved out of wood old, hen decoy with real skin and feathers stretched over it. I have no doubt that the entire thing was older than I was. Truth be told it looked like hell, but I doubt an amorous tom thought twice about the possibilities. She always seemed to do her job except for when I was around. Stage fright, I suppose. Across his knees lay an old single shot twenty gauge. He liked it because it was light and he knew just how to hold the bead in every situation. There hadn't been a great deal of activity on this morning, and it was soggy and cold. Behind us in the timber two small creeks came together and created a good sized pool at the base of an oak tree before meandering off to parts unknown as one. From my very low vantage point I'd always try to get a lay of the land without moving two quickly or sticking my head up. This usually got me pretty familiar with anything closer than twenty feet that wasn't in the field ahead of us. There George would sit next to me seemingly watching an invisible gobbler and clucking every now and then on one of his calls, his glassy eyes peering through his face net. Laying there on the ground as the sun came up, burning off the haze and warming the air, I was helpless to fend off sleep's embrace.
After nodding off and on for most of the morning, at half after nine I heard the distinct wing beats and a cluck behind us as a bird hopped across the nearest creek. I gathered that it was a hen making her way out to the field, and as long as we kept quiet she'd keep Henrietta company and help our situation. George had not heard her, which was perfectly understandable because he was into his eighties. Fifteen or twenty minutes later he batted me hard with the back of his arm and growled loudly and quickly "Jeez Ch... T'ere's a hen o'er here! T'ree o clock!" He didn't hear her leave, either. We spent the next hour waiting for her to come out into the field with the tom that George was certain was courting her. I sat there knowing better, but didn't want to tell him as he did his very best to coax the nonexistent tom out to the field edge. At about eleven George told me to take my gun and sneak around behind him. Anyone who's been in the turkey woods knows that there is no sneaking after the sun comes up, and I'm sure he knew that. He just wanted me to jump something. After Elmer Fudding my way through the timber for half an hour I reported back. George told me to go ahead and walk around a bit. "Take your time, I'll get all this gathered up and meet you back at the car." He did this no matter where we hunted. It was usually my favorite part because it gave me a chance to look for antlers and mushrooms on unfamiliar ground. Once back to the car we'd sit and chat about anything I'd found or seen while he finished his cold coffee and I opened the soda I hadn't quite gotten to on the ride out. At this point there was only one thing on his mind: a ham and cheese from Hardee's. He always accented both syllables, like if you were saying RD's. I went with George many times, but it just never seemed to come together. I didn't mind a bit. All he wanted was for me to get my gobbler.
The last time I spoke to George I was home from for a visit from living in Alabama. He was seeing double. A growth far up in his nasal cavity was putting pressure on both his eyes, and he would be having it out soon. George told me many times, sometimes it seemed like every third sentence, that at his age there was no sense in slowing down. The day he stopped "going" would be the day that he kicked his bucket. He proved his belief and resolve to uphold it when he broke his foot squirrel hunting and never thought twice about having it casted. He just kept on going. As I've been told, and this information made it to me through the intricate system of small town conversation, George's surgery went off pretty much without incident. The doctor asked him to take it easy for a few weeks, but George said no. The doctor asked for a week. George said no. Seeing that he obviously wasn't going to come out ahead in the argument, the doctor pleaded for just a few days. George obliged, and spent the day after his surgery taking it easy. Taking it easy didn't sit well with him. The next morning he was up early and off to Coffee at Hardee's. He hopped in his wagon and off he went. He walked in, greeted the crowd, ordered his cup, and as he walked back to sit and gossip with all those in attendance he had a stroke. When he came to in the hospital the next day, or maybe the day after that, he was thoroughly aggravated. Having lost his power of speech and most of the use of one side it was clear to him that "going" was no longer an option. He made his wishes clear by withdrawing the IV's and tubes without proper medical assistance more than once.
I think back to that last conversation. Before I opened the glass door to Pop's garage I could see him musing to Pop while twiddling his thumbs and inspecting the state of his finger nails.There he sat in the chair nearest the east door in the afternoon light with one leg propped up on the other and a ring around the cigar nub hanging from the corner of his mouth. On his feet were grey shoes with two velcro straps, and sticking up from those below his short pant legs were what could only be mismatched socks. He wore a splotchy olive drab t-shirt with a few holes near the tail from carrying a leaky battery to his john boat some years past. He'd lift up a worn out Pheasants Forever hat he'd gotten free at a banquet to scratch the permanently tanned bald head he kept underneath it. As I opened the door he greeted me with a big smile, asked me how living down south was, and if I caught any good fish or seen any pretty girls on the beach. He updated me on all the goings on since I'd left early in January, commented about shifts in the weather at length, and proclaimed that he was happy because it was finally going to stay warm. When he wasn't telling a story or talking about his pals at the DNR office or about his cat Zoey, he was ribbing Pop about not going fishing with him enough. Pop would just sit and chuckle and shake his head as he fiddled with bits of a small engine he was fixing for poke money. After BS'ing for awhile I hesitantly asked George how he was doing, having heard of his predicament before my arrival from my grandparents. He said he was seeing doubles. "Two of everything past three feet out" he stated matter-of-factly. I asked doubtfully how his turkey season went. He told me who he'd hunted with and how the weather had been. He told about where they'd hunted and about the things they'd seen and heard, knowing fully well that he was skirting the answer I was really after. With a bright twinkle in his eye and a grin he finally said he'd helped a few guys get their bird, and filled both of his tags doing it. Incredulously, I asked how? His grin grew into as big a smile as I'd ever seen on his face, the little nub nearly loosing it's footing on his lip. He laughed loudly and said "Dammit, I shot t' one on the right!"
So there he sat, so pleased with himself and my reaction in the fleeting warmth of a late May afternoon. And there old George Zebrun will sit until I no longer have the luxury of memory, teasing Pop and smiling with that little cigar nub and tobacco ring in the corner of his mouth.
It’s moments like these where the best photographs are born. Not just in the snow, forest or mighty deserts, but in anything unexpected. I think it changes who we are. It slaps us in-the face with a new perspective, a new mountain to climb atop, and it forces us to see a familiar world in a new, or nonexistent, light. I remember being unable to smell the chill, and a still almost uncomfortable quiet.
Stivan, a small settlement on Adriatic Sea island Cres in Kvarner bay, is an almost abandoned place. Incredibly stony ground, almost nonexistent arable soil, not close enough to the sea shore to be of interest for tourists, offers little to survive. Some old fig trees and olive trees and sheep, this is all one can rely on. But it is situated in a great landscape, in an open, rather flat (as the whole south part of the island) Mediterranean landscape, harsh, wind-swept and sunny, with mild spring and autumn climate and hot summers. Yet, 200 years ago men was capable not only to survive here but also to live full lives and to build large stony farmhouses like this one on my pictures. Now it is a ruin worth nothing, defeated by time and overtaken by Wulfen's Spurge (Euphorbia wulfeni).
I am just.... completely run down. Even after having a long weekend! Between this room mate drama, being sick, and a few other pieces of shit, I have been run down. Yet, I've still managed to attend classes... No more gym this week because I nearly threw my back out and have to wear one of those embarrassing back braces until I can function without it. My appetite is nearly nonexistent. My confidence and emotions are shaken beyond recognition. I was doing so well, and feeling so great! It's amazing what people can do to make you feel worthless and like you're this horrid person. Rock bottom ain't a pretty place.
On another note, I got a fridge so I can actually have COLD Brita water, as well as some orange juice in the morning that isn't watered down from the cafeteria tap. Also, TWO firedrills in a ROW at 4:30 and 5:45 didn't help me feel the greatest, either. As for now, I'm battling more sniffles and sneezles and some pretty horrid chills.
Chart showing the elevation changes for benchmark CO-C-32. Subsidence from 1982-1986 was very minor or nonexistent. During this time period only one very small geothermal plant was operating. In 1986 the Vulcan plant came on line more than tripling the production of fluid and increasing the subsidence rate at this benchmark. The production of fluid continued to increase with a series of new power plants coming on line: Elmore, SS-3, Del Ranch 1989, Leathers, SS-2 1990, SS-4 1996, and SS-5 CE Turbo in 2000, and so has the rate of subsidence.
Miss my head, miss my heart, miss my lungs
Be what you want to be
Watch what you want to see
Killed for fun
Down a hole, up a rope
Down some pills, up some hope
This karma machine only takes quarters
New age soldier, new age soldier
Everybody's all right
Everything is automatic
Everybody's all right
Everything is skin deep (*)
Ho-ho-ho hippy is back on flickr!
It's been a rainy Christmas and there won't be any masterpiece in these days, just a few cliché shots like this one :D
Ok, there has never been a masterpiece on my flickr stream, but that's a technical detail nobody should care about ^____^
PS: no post processing, as usual. The background has been cut out by a midget living in my zoom lens :D
PSSSS: I was waiting for the next rain cloud and started playing with a nonexistent depth of field and more than 200mm handheld, just to make things easier *___*
(*) "Everything is automatic" by Matthew Good
N88TH
From EAA Website:
Tom Hamilton, EAA 111356, designed the Glasair to be an efficient airplane; it was fast yet fuel-efficient and had a practical building time. The prototype, called the Ham2, was an all-composite, female molded, side-by-side two place aircraft. It was conventional in design as far as aerodynamics go with a good-looking appearance.
Originally, Tom had designed his airplane with tandem seating, but he ran into a few problems. The biggest problem was center of gravity travel, especially when soloed from the front seat. Flying from the rear seat proved to be awkward, cramped, and blind, especially forward through the other person’s head. Baggage space was almost nonexistent and passenger’s weight became an issue.
Tom decided to switch to side-by-side seating, which eliminated many of these problems. He saved weight by not having to duplicate instruments and controls, gaining plenty of room for IFR avionics without going to very costly miniature instruments. The Ham2 could handle a pilot up to 6 feet 2 inches in height, while all the succeeding Glasairs had an additional three inches in the canopy. Side-by-side seating can make an airplane less aerodynamically efficient, but it didn’t affect the Ham2 at all in the speed department.
The Ham2 was the prototype for the Glasair, which became an airplane that many consider ideal for cruising around in with a friend. The Glasair is able to carry two full-sized people in comfort, operate out of short fields, and throw in a roll or a loop every once in a while.
Utility and efficiency were at the heart of the Glasair design, and Ham2 was what started it all. Tom wrote a feature story about the airplane in the August 1980 issue of Sport Aviation, and then donated the Glasair prototype Ham2 to the EAA Aviation Museum in 1986.
Length: 19 feet
Wingspan: 23 feet, 3 inches
Empty Weight: 835 pounds
Gross Weight: 1,400 pounds
Maximum Speed: 230 mph
Cruise Speed: 206 mph
Seats: 2
Powerplant: Lycoming O-235
Horsepower: 150 hp
They Live, We Sleep
Artist Statement
“We are living in an artificially induced state of consciousness that resembles sleep. The poor and the underclass are growing. Racial justice and human rights are nonexistent.
They influence our decisions without us knowing it. They numb our senses without us feeling it. They control our lives without us realizing it.
They have created a repressive society and we are their unwitting accomplices ...their intention to rule rests with the annihilation of consciousness.
We have been lulled into a trance.
They have made us indifferent, to ourselves, to others; we are focused only on our own gain. They are safe as long as they are not discovered ...that is their primary method of survival.
Keep us asleep, keep us selfish, keep us sedated...they are dismantling the sleeping middle class.
More and more people are becoming poor. We are their cattle. We are being bred for slavery.”
– They Live
This photographic body of work is inspired by John Carpenter’s 1988 film, “They Live.” The movie was also credited by Shepard Fairey “as a major source of inspiration for his own subversive brand of street art.” They Live was the basis for his use of the word ‘OBEY’ that became his main campaign and a popular clothing brand consequently.
The protagonist of the movie, an unemployed drifter named "Nada," accidentally comes across a box of sunglasses. After putting a pair on, he realizes that they are quite special. He sees the world in black and white and discovers that it's not what it seems. The series of images I have created are like those unique sunglasses that Nada stumbled upon, aim to show the world to the viewer for what it truly is. I hope they will help people to take into consideration what they sacrifice by blindly following self-serving governments and corporations’ agendas.
Through this photographic project my intent is to encourage people to be more aware of the habitual ways of living that we have been thoughtlessly following for most of human history. It seems as though the human race would have learned by now to not put their trust in the hands of the misguiding ruling class. Unfortunately most of the humanity is still in the state of mindless consumerism and simply does not realize that their decisions, their entire lives are being manipulated.
If I'd known Bailey* when she was in her youth/prime, I would've turned her into a hell of a disc dog...
Even now, she'll fetch until her almost nonexistent teeth chatter and you put the toy away and force her to lay down for some rest. Five minutes later, she's ready to go again...
View On White & large.
The cotton pygmy goose or cotton teal (Nettapus coromandelianus) is a small perching duck which breeds in Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, southeast Asia and south to Queensland.
Small individuals of this species are the smallest waterfowl on earth, at as little as 160 g (5.6 oz) and 26 cm (10 in). White predominates in this bird's plumage. Bill short, deep at base, and goose-like.
Male in breeding plumage is glossy blackish green crown, with white head, neck, and underparts; a prominent black collar and white wing-bar. Rounded head and short legs. In flight, the wings are green with a white band, making the male conspicuous even amongst the huge flying flocks of the lesser whistling duck, which share the habitat. Female paler, without either black collar and only a narrow or nonexistent strip of white wing-bar. In non-breeding plumage (eclipse) male resembles female except for his white wing-bar. Flocks on water bodies (jheels), etc.
The call is a peculiar clucking, uttered in flight
These are my personal notes taken during a geology presentation. I give them here because they may be of some interest. Do not expect the notes to always be in complete sentences, etc.
-----------------------------------
Recognizing Eolian (i.e., Wind Blown) Deposits on San Salvador Island & Beyond
Presented by: Mario Caputo (retired from: Earth Sciences and Astronomy Department, Mt. San Antonio College, Walnut, California, USA)
23 June 2010
----------
How does wind interact with sediments? Sediments can be moved by wind, water, and glaciers. Wind is a turbulent transport agent.
What makes eolian deposits? Wind moves bedforms (dunes). Dunes make eolian deposits.
Example: erg (sand sea), Namib Desert, southwestern Africa.
(blogs.britannica.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/namib3sma...)
Example: Kelso Dunes, eastern Mojave Desert, California - has linear dunes (aka seif dunes; aka longitudinal dunes) - the wind runs parallel to crest of dunes.
(www.nps.gov/moja/planyourvisit/images/walking-kelso-dunes...)
Eolianite - rock formed by wind-transported sand of carbonate grains, not quartz & feldspar sand grains. [Eolianites are varieties of limestone.]
Given a steady supply of sand and a good, persistent wind, dunes will form.
Example: Michigan - reworked glacial sediments.
Example: Great Sand Dunes, Colorado - reworked Medano River sediments, derived from the Sangre de Cristo Range.
(www.nature.nps.gov/geology/geologic_wonders/images/star_d...)
Example: Barchan dunes of Utah - sediments are reworked from wind-blown sands of the Entrada Sandstone.
Sand can withstand several cycles of formation, deposition, lithification, and erosion. A famous exception is at White Sands, New Mexico, which has gypsum sand - it is quite soft (H=2) - it doesn’t survive like quartz, so it doesn’t travel far.
(feel-planet.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/white-sands-na...)
Basic eolian processes & resulting strata:
Wind ripple strata - “topset” strata and “foreset” strata or cross-bedding (sloping/slanting units).
Wind ripples, grainflow (sandflow), and grainfall make cross-bedding.
Bahamian limestones consist of aragonite (CaCO3) sand grains.
Utah sandstones have quartz (SiO2) sand grains. The Navajo Sandsone, Page Sandstone, and Entrada Sandstone are all siliciclastic eolian units there.
How sand is transported:
Wind creates a shearing effect above a sand grain. Get lift (Bernoulli Effect), like an airplane. Wind-blown (lifted or pushed along) sediment populations consist of fine sand - 1/16 mm to 1/2 mm.
Sand moves by: 1) sand slides; 2) rolling; 3) saltation (bouncing), triggered by the impact/strike of another grain. Saltation trajectories can be high. Example: sand stinging your legs during windy times.
Wind “impact” ripples: ripple length (spacing) = saltation length (trajectory controlled by wind speed & bounce height).
Forming wind ripple strata:
Ralph Hunter, now a retired USGS geologist, liked to dig out beautiful trenches & smooth the walls to see wind-blown sand deposits. (Need moist sand to trench & carve with a machete.) Such trenches show that wind ripples move up as they move laterally - climbing ripples (myweb.facstaff.wwu.edu/talbot/cdgeol/Sediment/StratSed/75...). This is the result of horizontal & vertical vectors. These control the angle of climb. Ripples climb. Sediment deposits look horizontal, but they do have angular discordance. There wouldn’t be a deposit if the ripples didn’t climb.
In the Page Sandstone (~140 million years old, Paria Wilderness, southwestern Utah), you can see the angle of climb.
At the front of each ripple is a zone of erosion. If bedforms are moving horizontally, previous ripples get chewed up - don’t get a deposit. If ripples climb, you get a deposit.
On San Salvador Island in the Bahamas, wind ripple marks are rare, but they occur at French Bay in the Grotto Beach Formation. Wind ripple marks are well exposed in the Jurassic Page Sandstone of southwestern Utah’s Paria Wilderness. In both units, the ripple marks match up.
There is an index of width-to-height that only wind ripples have.
Pinstripe bedding - white stripes are microledges - seen in the the Rice Bay Formation at North Point on San Salvador. Darker bands/gray bands are recesses. So, see alternating light-dark ledges-recesses.
(www.flickr.com/photos/jsjgeology/16223972926)
Can see the same thing in the Moab Sandstone Member of the Entrada Sandstone of Utah.
In thin section, can see that some layers are cemented and other layers are not cemented. This is the result of differential packing. The more closely packed layers end up being better cemented. The closely packed, better cemented portions are in the basal part - they form white stripes - little ledges.
The upper portions are coarser-grained, not as well packed, are darker, end up being not as well cemented, and form recesses.
The overall result is small-scale reverse grading. This happens even though wind-blown sand is well-sorted. Wind is the most efficient sorter of sediments.
Grainflow Processes:
Ex: Silver Lake State Park, western coast of Michigan.
(www.flickr.com/photos/richardthompson/3496551579)
Grains at the summit of ripples fall down at the brink point - get avalanching down the lee side.
Grainflows in the eolianite limestones at North Point Peninsula on San Salvador Island are thin to nonexistent. So, the original North Point dunes were small.
Sandflows in cross-bedding form recesses in San Salvador’s Rice Bay Formation and in the Jurassic Page Sandstone at Lake Powell (Monkey Wrench Gang country).
(www.flickr.com/photos/sara10041966/4076923585)
(upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/5/58/EdwardAbbey_TheMon...)
_________________________________
Recess (Sandflow)
(not well cemented)
_________________________________
Ledge (Grainfall) (well cemented)
_________________________________
Grainfall Process:
Sand is conveyed up the windward side of a dune. The finer sand grains of wind ripples get swept beyond the brink point and form grainfall deposits - smooth, unrippled surfaces without evidence of flowage.
Grainfalls are difficult to identify in the rock record. They are relatively easy to see in modern settings.
Can identify grainfalls encasing sandflow lenses in the Jurassic Page Sandstone & in the Grotto Beach Formation of San Salvador.
Grainfall deposits in the rock record are recognized by looking for sandflow lenses encased in thin ledges (= finer-grained than sandflow lens).
San Salvador eolianites - grains are marine in origin - marine framework grains - ooids, bioclastic grains, algal fragments - they get washed up on beaches by waves and tidal currents. Then winds blow the sediments into dunes. Sediments get reworked by wind & vegetation - vegedunes.
Whole dune-form preservation occurs by plant stabilization and early cementation. You don’t see that in quartz-rich dunes.
Topset strata, brinkset strata, foreset strata are also seen on Eleuthera Island in the Bahamas.
Reactivation surfaces represent pauses in dune movement and sand movement.
Can see updip pinchout in carbonate eolianites in the Bahamas - you never see that in quartz dunes preserved in the rock record.
San Salvador's North Point Peninsula outcrops have sandflow lenses (recesses) in grainfall deposits (ledges).
Quartz can be frosted in any environment. Frosted grains are no longer a reliable indicator of wind-blown origin.
Water ripples have higher amplitudes than wind-blown ripples.
Symmetrical ripples - can watch them form in the shallow waters around San Salvador Island in the Bahamas. Sediments get swept back-n-forth in ripple troughs, resulting in the buildup of sediments at the edges of troughs - the result is symmetrical ripples.
(www.flickr.com/photos/jsjgeology/15046816692)
Rolling & sliding mechanism of grain movement - creep.
Black basalt sand dunes occur in Hawaii. Basalt sand dunes also occur on Mars.
Bedding is only visible is there’s slight differences in grain sizes and/or grain mineralogies.
Swash laminations form in high flow regime conditions. A sheet of sand gets deposited. Swash has a higher velocity than backwash - get a two-fold lamination (swash-backwash).
Won’t see ripple forms in swash deposits. Will see parting lineations.
Can also get ripples migrating up the lee side (downwind) of dunes due to the presence of an air eddy in the trough between dunes.
----------------
The atheists blame God and religion for all of humankind's problems. Such proves the shallowness of atheism's manner of thinking. A nonexistent being cannot take blame for anything which happens to occur in the Universe. "Religion" is merely a word which is used to classify a set of human opinions and therefore cannot take either credit or blame for any of humankind's behavior.
God's nonexistence exonerates God from all blame for humankind's failure. Since humankind lacks free will it is quite impossible to blame humans for the failure of humankind. Humankind's failure then represents nothing more than a failure of evolution, an evolutionary dead end and proof that a primate can behave with the same sort of amorality exhibited by diseases and viruses and cancer and natural disasters.
Although humankind isn't innocent humankind is helpless and beyond the reach of any cure for the affliction and curse known as "human nature". Humankind has known about the existence of this problem for thousands of years: It is the reason why religion was invented and why humans have wasted thousands of years praying to imaginary gods for help and rescue and salvation and peace.
In the scientific era, humankind's cry out to God has been replaced by humankind crying out to space in search of a wise and intelligent and benevolent alien intelligence to provide the cure which God failed to provide. Such a wish is as much nonsense as religion and represents not science fiction type thinking but fantasy thinking.
Humankind is alone in the Universe. There's nobody out there listening for some signal of intelligent life from the Earth. The Universe beyond the Earth is absolutely sterile. Humankind is absolutely and eternally alone.
Once humankind finishes driving itself extinct the Universe will have precisely zero human-like intelligent life forms. This is true even if the Universe is infinite in size.
It's raining in California at last! The first potent storm of the season finally gives the state a good soaking, including SoCal where rain was virtually nonexistent so far this season. I miss driving in the rain! Right after I was done with work, I went straight to observe the rainy weather. Due to all this rain, localized flooding was possible in flood-prone areas. Surely, we are having a weather pattern that was completely opposite of last month's epic dryness. Is it now safe to say that California's rainy season is finally here?
(Video footage taken from around San Jose, CA on Monday evening, January 8, 2018)
Weather update/forecast:
A powerful storm had battered California with heavy rain, mountain snow & gusty winds. A connection of subtropical moisture was present and had helped aid in bringing heavy rain to parts of the state. Heavy rain fell around NorCal Monday and into early Tuesday morning with approximately 3.50 inches of rain around San Francisco & Sacramento. While rainfall was forecast to be more sporadic over NorCal for the duration of the storm, heavy rain was more intense in Central/SoCal into Tuesday night. T-storms with small hail & lightning weren't out of the question as the low pressure system itself drifted inland with the added atmospheric instability. Gusty winds have continued to kick up along the coast and over the mountains as the storm drifted inland. Sporadic power outages were possible... This widespread rainfall had put a dent in the state's precipitation deficits, as well as put an end to the wildfire season at last. Looking ahead, more rain was on the horizon. Is the state's rainy season finally starting to kick in despite a slow start? Fingers crossed...
See the notes for identifications. When I checked the names against IPNI, I found several epithets that do not exist. If anyone can identify the misnamed plants, please comment.
The Dorstenia "lancifolia" is now identified as Dorstenia foetida.
Biology Greenhouse, Florida International University, Miami, Florida, USA.
This house has everything wrong; ugly colors, a ridiculous arcade, a lack of windows, a poor choice of materials, ugly roof pitches, a poor sense of scale, an unappealing portico, an ugly garage conversion, an ugly, cheapie door. nonexistent landscaping, lack of contrasting color, no ornamentation, soggy t111 siding, ugly fieldstone, an unpruned trees pouring termites on to the roof, this house has it all.
Next, Jay Shambaugh, the director of The Hamilton Project and a senior fellow in the Economics Studies program at Brookings, presented the Hamilton Project's research on wages.
Since the 1970s, the typical U.S. worker has experienced either a minimal or nonexistent increase in wages. What can and should be done to promote the economic growth that will lead to higher earnings for more American workers? How do we ensure that these gains are broadly shared, resulting in robust wage growth for as many workers as possible?
On September 26, The Hamilton Project at Brookings hosted a forum on wage growth in The United States. The forum began with introductory remarks by former U.S. Treasury Secretary Robert E. Rubin, and a fireside chat with Jason Furman, professor of practice, Harvard Kennedy School, and Lawrence Mishel, president, Economic Policy Institute. The fireside chat was moderated by Catherine Rampell, opinion writer, The Washington Post. A panel discussion will follow the fireside chat, featuring panelists including: Jared Bernstein, senior fellow, Center on Budget and Policy Priorities; Robert Greenstein, founder and president, Center on Budget and Policy Priorities; and Heidi Shierholz; senior economist and director of policy, Economic Policy Institute; the panel was moderated by Jay Shambaugh, director, The Hamilton Project.
In conjunction with this event, The Hamilton Project released a new framing paper exploring wage trends and the economic forces that underlie them.
Photo credit: Ralph Alswang
leica iiic
film
colinhuggins.bandcamp.com/track/philip-glass-opening-from...
NY Times, Dec. 4 2011
Colin Huggins was there with his baby grand, the one he wheels into Washington Square Park for his al fresco concerts. So were Tic and Tac, a street-performing duo, who held court in the fountain — dry for the winter. And Joe Mangrum was pouring his elaborate sand paintings on the ground near the Washington Arch.
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Hiroko Masuike/The New York Times
Kareem Barnes of Tic and Tac collected donations on Sunday.
Enlarge This Image
Hiroko Masuike/The New York Times
Joe Mangrum showed his sand paintings on Sunday.
In other words, it was a typical Sunday afternoon in the Greenwich Village park, where generations of visitors have mingled with musicians, artists, activists, poets and buskers.
Yet this fall, that urban harmony has grown dissonant as the city’s parks department has slapped summonses on the four men and other performers who put out hats or buckets, for vending in an unauthorized location — specifically, within 50 feet of a monument.
The department’s rule, one of many put in place a year ago, was intended to control commerce in the busiest parks. Under the city’s definition, vending covers not only those peddling photographs and ankle bracelets, but also performers who solicit donations.
The rule attracted little notice at first. But the enforcement in Washington Square Park in the past two months has generated summonses ranging from $250 to $1,000. And it has started a debate about the rights of parkgoers seeking refuge from the bustle of the streets versus those looking for entertainment.
At a news conference in the park on Sunday organized by NYC Park Advocates, the artists waved fistfuls of pink summonses while their advocates, including civil rights lawyers, called on the city to stop what they called harassment of the performers.
“This is a heavy-handed solution to a nonexistent problem,” said Ronald L. Kuby, one of the lawyers.
The rule is especially problematic in Washington Square Park, performers say, because there are few locations across its 10 acres that are beyond 50 feet from a memorial or fountain — whether the bust of Alexander Lyman Holley, who introduced the Bessemer steel process to this country, or the statue of the Italian liberator Giuseppe Garibaldi.
Then there is the park’s international reputation as a gathering place for folk music pioneers and the Beats.
“Washington Square is the live-music park of New York City, and it would be close to impossible for any one of us to follow these regulations,” said Mr. Huggins, who has received nine summonses with fines totaling $2,250.
But Adrian Benepe, the parks commissioner, argues that there is ample room for performers away from the monuments. And, he added, a musician who is not putting out a tin cup is welcome to sit on the edge of the fountain or under a monument.
“It’s the whole issue of the ‘tragedy of the commons,’ ” he said. “If you allow all the performers and all the vendors to do whatever they want to do, pretty soon there’s no park left for people who want to use them for quiet enjoyment. This is a way of having some control and not 18 hours of carnival-like atmosphere.”
Gary Behrens, an amateur photographer visiting from New Jersey, applauded the city’s efforts to rein in the performers. “I’m O.K. with the guitar, but the loud instruments have taken over the park,” he said.
The lawyers and advocates, however, challenged the idea that street performers were selling a product as a vendor does. And threatening a lawsuit, they faulted the city for creating what they called “First Amendment zones” through the rules.
“Is this place zany?” asked Norman Siegel, the former director of the New York Civil Liberties Union. “You bet. Public parks are quintessential public forums. Zaniness is something we should cherish and protect.”
Park visitation has soared along with the rise of tourism in the last 15 years, and with it vendors and artists interested in a lucrative market.
Mr. Benepe insisted that the rules would not scare off future music legends.
“If Bob Dylan wanted to come play there tomorrow, he could,” he said, “although he might have to move away from the fountain.”
Oddly, the dispute coincided with the 50th anniversary of the so-called Folk Riot in Washington Square Park, when the parks commissioner tried to squelch Sunday folk performances. Hundreds of musicians gathered in protest, the police were called in and a melee ensued.
In April, Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg wrote a letter commemorating the Folk Riot, saying he applauded “the folk performers who changed music, our city and our world beginning half a century ago.”
Neuroeconomists have suggested additional policies, including warning buyers of lottery tickets that their chances of winning are practically nonexistent and imposing mandatory “cooling off” periods before people make big-ticket purchases, such as cars and boats.
—John Cassidy, The New Yorker, September 18 2006
Greenstein also comments on policy to combat wage stagnation.
Since the 1970s, the typical U.S. worker has experienced either a minimal or nonexistent increase in wages. What can and should be done to promote the economic growth that will lead to higher earnings for more American workers? How do we ensure that these gains are broadly shared, resulting in robust wage growth for as many workers as possible?
On September 26, The Hamilton Project at Brookings hosted a forum on wage growth in The United States. The forum began with introductory remarks by former U.S. Treasury Secretary Robert E. Rubin, and a fireside chat with Jason Furman, professor of practice, Harvard Kennedy School, and Lawrence Mishel, president, Economic Policy Institute. The fireside chat was moderated by Catherine Rampell, opinion writer, The Washington Post. A panel discussion will follow the fireside chat, featuring panelists including: Jared Bernstein, senior fellow, Center on Budget and Policy Priorities; Robert Greenstein, founder and president, Center on Budget and Policy Priorities; and Heidi Shierholz; senior economist and director of policy, Economic Policy Institute; the panel was moderated by Jay Shambaugh, director, The Hamilton Project.
In conjunction with this event, The Hamilton Project released a new framing paper exploring wage trends and the economic forces that underlie them.
Photo credit: Ralph Alswang
They Live, We Sleep
Artist Statement
“We are living in an artificially induced state of consciousness that resembles sleep. The poor and the underclass are growing. Racial justice and human rights are nonexistent.
They influence our decisions without us knowing it. They numb our senses without us feeling it. They control our lives without us realizing it.
They have created a repressive society and we are their unwitting accomplices ...their intention to rule rests with the annihilation of consciousness.
We have been lulled into a trance.
They have made us indifferent, to ourselves, to others; we are focused only on our own gain. They are safe as long as they are not discovered ...that is their primary method of survival.
Keep us asleep, keep us selfish, keep us sedated...they are dismantling the sleeping middle class.
More and more people are becoming poor. We are their cattle. We are being bred for slavery.”
– They Live
This photographic body of work is inspired by John Carpenter’s 1988 film, “They Live.” The movie was also credited by Shepard Fairey “as a major source of inspiration for his own subversive brand of street art.” They Live was the basis for his use of the word ‘OBEY’ that became his main campaign and a popular clothing brand consequently.
The protagonist of the movie, an unemployed drifter named "Nada," accidentally comes across a box of sunglasses. After putting a pair on, he realizes that they are quite special. He sees the world in black and white and discovers that it's not what it seems. The series of images I have created are like those unique sunglasses that Nada stumbled upon, aim to show the world to the viewer for what it truly is. I hope they will help people to take into consideration what they sacrifice by blindly following self-serving governments and corporations’ agendas.
Through this photographic project my intent is to encourage people to be more aware of the habitual ways of living that we have been thoughtlessly following for most of human history. It seems as though the human race would have learned by now to not put their trust in the hands of the misguiding ruling class. Unfortunately most of the humanity is still in the state of mindless consumerism and simply does not realize that their decisions, their entire lives are being manipulated.
Taken with a Samsung Maxima Zoom 105XL point & shoot in the summer of 2007. I was finishing off the roll of Fuji Superia that had been sitting in it for over five years. Most of the scans from this roll were awful. This shot was okay, but the colors were nonexistent. I cleaned it up in Topaz DeNoise AI, then worked the image over in Photoshop.
July 27 2007, 4:22PM.
Unlike most of Trippy's meretricious* tales, for which evidence is at best tenuous and more often nonexistent, rare production stills recently discovered in the archives of late fantasy film historian Forrest J. (Forry) Ackerman appear to substantiate Trippy's claim to have worked with director Fritz Lang on Lang's epic silent era production of Die Nibelungen.
Barn is located in Mendon Ponds Park, at the intersection of Clover St and Pond Rd, Mendon, NY... next to the Nature Center. Monroe County Sheriff Mounted Division was started in 1938.
Mendon Ponds Park is owned and very poorly maintained by the County of Monroe, NY.
Unfortunately, this extraordinary property is rapidly deteriorating due to an egregious lack of care. Trails are not cleared of debris... signs are useless. Park maintenance is essentially nonexistent. They do have a marketing department. Seriously, the taxpayers are paying the salaries of a county parks marketing department.
Email Mendon Ponds Park complaints to: countyexecutive@monroecounty.gov
New to Alameda so had to give them a try. Not the best burger one can get in town, although not awful, either. But the patty was way too dry for me and the BBQ sauce was all but nonexistent. The batter on the onion strings and the fried pickles is the same and it was quite salty. I like salty so the onion strings were fine for me but would be too much for many people. The salty pickles plus salty batter was over the top even for this salt-lover. I thought the Smashfries (with olive oil, rosemary and garlic) were REALLY good. I would go back for them.
el cubista wall es mi casa del color
While rustling these shapes into the frame, someone in a passing car yelled out, "There's nothing to see."
"I see colorful, nonexistent rectangles."
I'm gobsmacked by several things here. First, the light was nonexistent. Yet the Sony A7RII performed extremely well at incredibly high ISO. Second, using knowledge developed around a digital Zone System, I knew precisely where I wanted the tonal values and was able to place them accordingly. Third, I am happy to confirm the dynamic range of the sensor extends usefully to below Zone 0 (Zone -2!), even at such high ISO settings. Fourth, 1950s German optics can do the trick. These images were made using a triplet wide angle. Who would design such a thing and make it work? Micro-contrast is something to be seen, otherwise you wouldn't believe it.
They Live, We Sleep
Artist Statement
“We are living in an artificially induced state of consciousness that resembles sleep. The poor and the underclass are growing. Racial justice and human rights are nonexistent.
They influence our decisions without us knowing it. They numb our senses without us feeling it. They control our lives without us realizing it.
They have created a repressive society and we are their unwitting accomplices ...their intention to rule rests with the annihilation of consciousness.
We have been lulled into a trance.
They have made us indifferent, to ourselves, to others; we are focused only on our own gain. They are safe as long as they are not discovered ...that is their primary method of survival.
Keep us asleep, keep us selfish, keep us sedated...they are dismantling the sleeping middle class.
More and more people are becoming poor. We are their cattle. We are being bred for slavery.”
– They Live
This photographic body of work is inspired by John Carpenter’s 1988 film, “They Live.” The movie was also credited by Shepard Fairey “as a major source of inspiration for his own subversive brand of street art.” They Live was the basis for his use of the word ‘OBEY’ that became his main campaign and a popular clothing brand consequently.
The protagonist of the movie, an unemployed drifter named "Nada," accidentally comes across a box of sunglasses. After putting a pair on, he realizes that they are quite special. He sees the world in black and white and discovers that it's not what it seems. The series of images I have created are like those unique sunglasses that Nada stumbled upon, aim to show the world to the viewer for what it truly is. I hope they will help people to take into consideration what they sacrifice by blindly following self-serving governments and corporations’ agendas.
Through this photographic project my intent is to encourage people to be more aware of the habitual ways of living that we have been thoughtlessly following for most of human history. It seems as though the human race would have learned by now to not put their trust in the hands of the misguiding ruling class. Unfortunately most of the humanity is still in the state of mindless consumerism and simply does not realize that their decisions, their entire lives are being manipulated.
OAS. Organization of American States. 35th Assembly 2005, Ft. Lauderdale, Florida USA.
i was inspecting services in Florida,
including commercial and civil services.
letter to the OAS:
to OAS mar 09 2011
james mcashan. security consultant.
candidate for the Congress
of the United States of America.
i have plans for development of the Americas
as a powerful integrated unit.
combined we could soon have
an equivalent government resource
of one trillion dollars per day.
i have spoken to thousands of people
in the USA, Mexico, and the world about this:
thousands have been positive for my election or appointment
(some US Congress members and others in primary government
were hired not elected.
all are hired, payed, or preselected before they are elected.)
i provided
volunteer security inspection
at the 35th session
of the OAS general assembly.
i patrolled the back
of the convention center
and asked a female SWAT agent
in full armour
if she was going skydiving.
i checked the back and left.
a motorcycle patrol and 2 local police squad units
stopped me in mid-street
with weapons aimed at me.
response was rapid, but wrong.
i am working
on that world military problem.
i also went to Ciudad Mexico en solo
to inspect that dangerous place
in detaill.
i have inspected thousands of structures and services
as a volunteer not compromised or corrupted by employment.
i am now poor. i have not been paid.
i have had much abuse.
i am very ill. a stroke.
please support me
and in my appointment
as an independent candidate
for the US Congress.
- james dennis mcashan
jamesmcashan.web.officelive
james_mcashan on plixi (photos)
jamesmcashan on flicker (photos)