the good old days

I haven’t really enjoyed the movies since they introduced Spock’s half-brother and visited God. I kept going, of course, because I was a Star Trek fan and it’s what you did; but even that couldn’t get me out of the house to see Insurrection or Nemesis. And hearing that Sylar was going to be Spock didn’t really make me eager to see a re-imagining of the original crew with fresh young faces.

But then a few Trek-fan friends started talking it up, and so I got kinda excited, and since the semester’s over it seemed a great opportunity to leave the kids in daycare and go see a movie over lunch.

And oh my.

It was everything I could want a Star Trek movie to be. It had a some huge gaping plot holes, critical errors, ridiculous deus ex machina, a water turbine in the engine room (I imagine that’s the first thing Scotty upgrades…) and other silliness; in other words, plenty of fodder to complain about with other fans. But it had scenes where Kirk doesn’t get the girl. And it had a surprisingly plausible explanation for why they think they can reboot the franchise with entirely different actors playing the original characters.

The saddest thing is that Captain Pike still ends up paralyzed, although at least he doesn’t end up in a packing box able to communicate only by saying “BOOP” (yes) or “BOOP BOOP” (no). In many ways Star Trek was ahead of its time in 1970; this was not one of them. For a wheelchair “operated by brainwaves”, that thing was extremely pathetic.

You really ought to go see it if you enjoyed Star Trek. If it’s not your thing, then avoid it; you’ll just be seeing a movie with too many lens flares, not enough camera stability (presumably to make the CG look better), and lots of inside jokes you won’t understand. But from this post, you can probably see it IS my thing, and I would be a grateful recipient of a tricorder if you’ve got one to spare.

Via Writes Like She Talks, I learned of a cute bit of Stalin-esque photoshopping:

Two women serve in Israel’s new Cabinet, but some Israelis would rather not see them.

Newspapers aimed at ultra-Orthodox Jewish readers tampered with the inaugural photograph of the Cabinet, erasing ministers Limor Livnat and Sofa Landver.

Ultra-Orthodox newspapers consider it immodest to print images of women.

The daily Yated Neeman digitally changed the photo, moving two male ministers into the places formerly occupied by the women.

The weekly Shaa Tova simply blacked the women out, in a photo reprinted Friday by the mainstream daily Maariv. — Associated Press/Washington Post

The “ideal” solution would have been to not print the photo at all, rather than tamper with it; I suppose a black box saying “OMG WOMAN DO NOT LOOK!” is better than pretending somebody else was standing there, if I have to choose between the two. Censoring part of the picture escalates the insult.

I’d like to recommend a book I enjoy about this topic, The Commissar Vanishes, as background reading — it is an excellent overview of photographic manipulation during Stalin’s reign. There’s a website which covers the main points; frequently Soviet officials being removed from old pictures once they were decided to be unwelcome (any evidence of Stalin associating with them had to be removed). There’s one photo in the book (not on their site) in which four or five party officials leave the same photograph as it’s published over time, eventually leaving only Stalin and a couple others in the “group” shot.

While I’m impressed by the technical skill required to “fix” some of these shots (especially considering they were working on actual photographic negatives, not with Photoshop), the effect is pretty disturbing.

In general, it’s not a good idea to follow the lead of despotic regimes when choosing your editorial practices. It’s just bad journalism.

Going Places, from 1948, teaches us the basics of capitalist manufacturing through the example of one soap-maker who was inspired to make the best soap ever thanks to his childhood chores. At first, Freddie simply wants to make good soap quickly so he can have time off to ogle passing women; once he becomes a success, he is convinced by his main competitor that they should engage in price-fixing.

The devil wins that little argument, but Soap Company #3 quickly defeats their monopoly by selling inexpensive soap — and then the government steps in. After that point, the movie glosses over their illegal monopolizing… the free market fixes everything!

The movie also discusses the benefits that the profit motive (and thereby a successful business) will bring to its worker and to the community.

Operating at a profit, a business can provide the employee with comfortable, colorful working conditions; high wages and steady employment; first aid and health protection; accident and life insurance; time off for vacations.

I’ll illustrate their example with a brief case study… Visteon, my former employer, went through years of trimming health insurance benefits and taking back as many other benefits as they could. Then they closed our factory last year. Strongly correlated with benefit cuts and plant closures was a string of announcements of dismal performance (dressed up as “we lost $12 million less than expected, only $150 loss this quarter!”), as well as fat firing bonuses for managers who left about as quickly as they were hired. And that sort of executive malfeasance doesn’t get any real coverage in Going Places.

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I like how everything ends with the promise that, if we embrace the profit motive, future generations of small children will be able to build jetpacks for themselves.

According to the end credits, this film was made by (with?) Harding College (now Harding University). Seven years later, they would bring us Responsibilities of American Citizenship, even more anti-Communist than this movie.

OK, there are a lot of things disturbing about this comic book panel. But look at their faces. (No, not the registration errors which gave her a white moustache, look at the expressions.)

She’s obviously manic. ‘Nuff said.

But him — Depressed? Disappointed? Actually a zombie who’s “wait” was not eating her brain until their wedding night? It’s kinda hard to tell.

It’s also worth noting that they tell you the wait WAS worth it, implying that after the tedious religious formality was over they dashed off to a convenient closet and — um — “stopped waiting,” then came back out to pose for this PSA picture.

My Own Romance #31 via Lady, That’s My Skull

Feeling the pinch of the Depression? Let’s cook some more with Clara and you won’t feel so bad. I seriously love these videos.

What I found interesting about this was that I typically associate Egg Drop Soup with Chinese cooking (or, at least, Chinese restaurants). Apparently there are European versions as well, which isn’t surprising considering it is basically just soup with eggs mixed in somehow. Clara’s version, which includes Parmesan cheese, looks most like the Italian variant (stracciatella), although it’s not completely accurate.

In any case, the recipe is simple. Sauté diced potatoes and onions. Do it in a pot big enough to make soup, to save on dishes later. (Economical AND efficient!)

Add water (or broth) to cover. Boil for a while to cook the potatoes some more.

Drizzle in scrambled eggs (which will almost immediately cook), then add whole eggs to poach (which will take a few minutes to cook).

Serve over toasted bread and sprinkle with Parmesan. Ignore the fact that it looks kinda lumpy and weird, it tastes really, really good.

It’s straightforward and could easily be expanded on — add vegetable or chicken broth instead of just water, scramble the eggs with some spices (nutmeg?) before adding them, sauté some bacon with your potatoes and onions, and so on. Or, if all you can afford is a potato, onion, and egg, just do it this way Don’t forget some salt and pepper, though; with only three fairly bland ingredients, you’ll need some flavor enhancers.

I’m assuming you all listened to my advice and got potatoes for all the children on your shopping list this year. If there are any left over, you’ve got a head start on shopping for your New Year’s party! Celebrate the New Depression with this game from 1933.

The fun doesn’t stop until the host needs to take the toy down to make dinner.

Via Modern Mechanix.

The Good Housekeeping Marriage Book: Twelve Steps to a Happy Marriage, from 1938 (reprinted 1949) has an inauspicious title if I ever heard one. It’s definitely going to be all about giving in and being a good cook and sewing your children’s clothes from scratch, snarked my feminist side. Just goes to show I don’t know everything. It had a neat essay from Eleanor Roosevelt… which rather shows just how far we have left to go.

This is not a case of whether you prefer marriage or a career. It is a case of marriage and work together, or no marriage and work alone. Work must go on in either case. For most women there is something so satisfying in creating a home that they do it frequently by themselves….

I know one young couple who were married when the boy was getting twenty-five dollars a week and the girl was getting the same as a stenographer. Both of them went on working. Everything seemed to be going very well, and she managed her two jobs quite successfully. The most successful part of it was the fact that she induced her husband to feel an equal responsibility for the house. I remember that when I dined with them, he put on an apron after dinner and helped wash the dishes as naturally as if that were the normal occupation for a man. When a marriage works out this way, it is very successful, especially if the man has a knack for doing things about the house, because it keeps him busy when his wife is busy.

So often these days, the question of whether women should work outside the home is framed entirely from the viewpoint of married, middle class families, who have the luxury of choosing between one or two incomes.

Of course, when it comes to the mothers of families who work in mills, factories, and stores, we know quite well that there is no question of choice—poverty drives them, and they work because they have to, and only a few would hesitate if they were offered an opportunity to stay at home and look after their home and their children.

I remember visiting a mill town once, and as the women came off the night shift—for there were no laws at that time in that particular state against women’s working on night shifts—they met their husbands going to work on the day shift. We followed one woman home. Tired from the hours in the mill, she nevertheless had to set to work immediately to get the children fed and off to school. Then she had her house to set to rights, washing and ironing to do, and dinner to get for the children and supper to be left for the man when he came back from work as she went on. In the afternoon she snatched a few hours of sleep, and the children who were not in school played unwatched and uncared for. She knew that her home life was not satisfactory, and she did not work long hours in the mill because she wanted to, but simply because there was not enough food to go around unless her earnings supplemented those of her husband.

At least today we have day care available.

The guilt trips from the “should women work” debate are laughably old. There are advantages and disadvantages to each, and it’s tiresome to hear each side snark at the other.

The whole thing is worth reading if you’re interested. The rest of the book isn’t all that bad, either.

Dear racists,

Oh, you know who you are. Folks who despise John McCain but “can’t” vote for Barack Obama because there’s “just something about him”. Yes, you.

You’re probably all proud of yourself because, while you believe deep in your heart that the Democratic candidate is not anything like you, you haven’t actually told anybody (even yourself) that it’s because he’s black. You aren’t screaming for decapitation. You aren’t designing a lynching or torture graphic. You aren’t a racist. You’re just… uncomfortable.

News flash: by not decrying those frothing rabid bigots, you’re complicit with them. Shocked? Disagree? Let’s watch The Plantation System in Southern Life, an educational film by Centron from 1950.

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Now, I realize that this film is a very low-level discussion of plantation and sharecropping economics. It’s intended for fairly young kids and therefore it is simplistic. But still — what the hell is up with:

Today if we visit a social gathering in the South, we’ll see some of those influences. The traditional Southern hospitality. The gentle manners and courtesy. The separation of society into distinct groups. And the relationship of that society to the land…

Separation of society into distinct groups? Um, wow. What a fascinating synonym for “segregation caused by festering racism.” The South might had Jim Crow, but The North sure wasn’t terribly motivated to change things. They blithely glossed over institutionalized discrimination as though it was completely acceptable.

And obviously pretending there’s no problem is working just SO well considering the level of dangerous bullshit that’s coming from raging lunatics — and the number of people who can’t come up with any stronger objection than, “oh my, well, that’s just a bit too far.” TOO FAR? That’s your best objection? There is no acceptable level of racism and letting supremacists run havoc is just a slightly less disgusting level of racism than what they’re screaming at the top of their lungs.

I just want to write my “ha ha isn’t history silly” blog in peace and you fuckers are instead bringing seriously vile history back to the forefront of my modern life. This shit isn’t funny.

Regards,
The Northern Aggression

Interested in analogies between the Great Depression and Today? Who isn’t! Here’s a brief newsreel called “Better Housing” which gives a quick look at the then-new FHA’s work.

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This newsreel (shown before… well, whatever feature films were showing in 1935) gives some statistics about the housing market in the late 20’s and early 30’s. It then segues into showing us a model home and trying to get us interested in buying. Stimulate the economy and all. Husband is most interested in sitting on the bed, Wife is most interested in the closet — hahaha, those stereotypes! It’s odd watching that and knowing that Husband will be off to war in less than a decade.

And what’s changed 75 years in the future? Well, if you haven’t heard of the problems in the housing market, you’re deaf, blind, and living under a rock (which actually may be the most affordable option, all things considered, so good choice).

On the bright side, our ovens are nicer.