As Rupert Murdoch tries to ban the Internet in a fruitless effort to save traditional printed newspapers, others are looking to the web to offer innovative, new modes of publishing to help keep the industry afloat. Although some people still refer to self-publishing through channels like Lulu as ‘guerrilla’, more and more people from traditional mainstream publishing backgrounds are catching on to the possibilities inherent in exploiting current technologies to invigorate a dying industry.
Take John Oakes and Colin Robinson. Between them they have institutional credentials like the Associated Press, New York Times, the Guardian, CNN … and they have jumped ship from the traditional publishing industry to start their own press called OR Books. They are founded on the principal of ‘Platform Agnostic Publishing’, meaning they are willing to use whatever platform and means necessary to sell their books. The term ‘Agnostic’ usually references someone who is skeptical about faith – it’s the “I don’t know” answer to the question “Do you believe in God.” Although the origins of the word as applied to publishing are hard to source, it seems to refer to a skepticism about choosing just one channel (i.e. print) and the willingness to experiment with multiple ‘answers’ to the distribution problem.
If a consumer wants a hard copy, OR Books will print it and ship it off (but not until the order has come in – no pre-buy runs, no waste). If you want an e-book at a reduced price, they’ll do that too. The only thing they won’t do is sell to you through an intermediary – they want to interact directly with their clients. Oh, and they also use every tool known to the Internet to market their products, including movie trailers for books. Although they don’t offer the range of innovative options Cory Doctorow does in the distribution of his latest book, they are kicking the crap out of Murdoch who is probably closer to their age demographic and background.
One of the best things about OR Books is that because they don’t have a huge bureaucracy, their “system allows a rapid publishing turnaround so relevant books can intervene quickly in issues of the day.” A few weeks ago Sarah Palin released her book Going Rogue and within days, OR Books released their response called Going Rouge, an impressive to-the-moment book about America’s obsession with Palin, written by some leading cultural critics. Yours for $16 in paperback, $10 for the book or $20 for both.
Gunpei Yokoi was a genius. Having joined Nintendo in 1965, he went on to create the Game & Watch handheld games, the Game Boy, and produced a large number of successful Nintendo games.
Yet the modern family-friendly image of Nintendo – who are reluctant to feature violence in any games for their systems – seems a long way from one of Gunpei’s early patents under Nintendo: the Nintendo Land Mine Toy.
Considering this was filed in 1969, when the number of US soldiers in Vietnam during the Vietnam War peaked at over half a million, it seems a little crude and insensitive by today’s standards, especially it’s juxtaposition with other innocent toys:
“The toy of the present invention may be used [...] as a kind of frightening device like a jack-in-the-box“
Many urban myths surround Absinthe; most commonly that it is banned in so-and-so country. In fact, although Absinthe has a notorious history of bans, it is now legal to sell in most countries. There are a few notable exceptions, including Ireland, where it is however legal to import for personal use.
Although there are still limits on the quantities of alcohol or thujone (a chemical produced by wormwood) in many countries, most outright bans have been repealed. Notable bans from the past include:
Brazil: 1906-2007
Belgium: 1906-2005
The Netherlands: 1908-2004
Switzerland: 1910-2004
United States: 1912-2007
France: 1914-1988
Germany: 1923-1981
Perhaps not surprisingly, the drink was never banned in The Czech Republic (which is often mis-credited for its origin; whereas its recent history actually originates in Switzerland). More surprisingly, it was never banned in:
Canada (though some provinces have their own bans)
Portugal
Spain
United Kingdom
Unlike other spirits (or liqueurs), it has no legal definition in most countries, which means you can sell pretty much anything and call it Absinthe… except, unusually, in France, where you can’t sell anything with the name Absinthe, though you can sell the drink itself under any other name.
Although absinthe was banned at the time, a book of ‘celebrity cocktail recipes’ was published in the US in 1935 (“So red the nose, or Breath in the afternoon“), which included Hemingway’s rather dangerous concoction of absinthe and champagne. As if that wasn’t dangerous enough, he concludes his recipe with: “Drink 3 to 5 of these slowly“.
Mercedes Helnwien’s work is mainly comprised of vintage looking doll-like women and girls – all slightly unhinged. She is a rare breed in that she is a young, pretty woman who is more than holding her own in the art world and is doing so while staunchly sticking to illustration (and realism at that, gasp!) as her medium of choice.
The LA Times describes her most recent show at the Merry Karnowsky Gallery as Photorealism, a practice that gained popularity in the 60s as a response to the Abstract Expressionism of the 50s (think Jackson Pollock). It gained popularity along side other movements, most famously Andy Warhol’s Pop Art.
A typical critique of Photorealism is that it is superficial; as an audience we are impressed by the technical skill behind it but are left cold in all other respects. About Photorealism, courtesy a writer for the New York Times, “setting aside the wow factor of photorealist painting – admittedly, a very big aside – this insanely popular art genre holds precious little of enduring significance … in the end [detail] is what photorealism is all about – acres of it, minutely rendered in mock imitation of the modern photograph. So look hard. What you see is what you get.”
Although I think that the whole sale dismissal of any school of art is part of the pretentious culture of exclusion/inclusion of the formal ‘Art Scene’, I would argue that Helnwein’s work does not even fit under the banner of the much maligned Photorealism. When you look at her work up close, she makes apparent the scratches, movements and layers of pencil that have gone into creating these pieces. Her work isn’t the smooth surface of a mirror or photograph, but is rather craggy and slightly unfinished much like her fragmented and mildly dangerous group of misfits. If this is Photorealism, it is Photorealism at a Halloween party. A very cool party.
November is a month now associated with the Poppy, a symbol of remembrance and appreciation of the sacrifices made by past generations, and in the last few years, our own contemporaries. A classic and simple design, the Poppy as a logo is instantly recognisable, as well as a way people can display their own appreciation of this military sacrifice for our own freedoms. The Poppy Appeal has successfully used this flower as an effective iconic design of simple poignancy.
Amidst the carnage and devastation of the battlefields of the First World War, the poppy flower was seen growing amongst no man’s land, and carved such an impression on the mind of a serving doctor, John McCrae, he wrote the famous poem: “In Flanders’ fields, the poppies blow…”. This poem inspired an American War secretary, Moina Michael, to start selling poppies, the proceeds going to the ex-Service community. And thus the Poppy Appeal charity through the British Legion was born.
The first Poppy Day was in 1921, and has remained a tradition every November since. In 1922, Major George Howson, founder of the the Disabled Society (established to help disabled ex-Service men and women from the First World War), suggested to the Legion that members of the Disabled Society could make the artificial poppies sold for the charity. Subsequently, the original artificial poppy was designed so that disabled workers could manufacture it with ease, especially so that it could be made by a worker with only one hand.
The simple design was, therefore, mostly born from a necessity of easy assembly. As with a lot of great iconic logos, less is more. The blood red is striking, and yet the Poppy’s soft edges portray a powerful message of beauty amongst the destruction – of life amongst the dead. And lest we forget.
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