#house and wilson are the antithesis of one another but in the sense that they compliment each other’s pathologies like a puzzle piece

[houseswife]

parallels that deal me +10 psychic damage for every second I spend pondering them

[daggerzine]

Other Music documentary (2019- directed by Puloma Basu and Rob Hatch-Miller)  review by Dina Hornreich

“It is harder to put together than to take apart.” A plain and not-so simple comment coming from the former Other Music Record Store co-owners, Josh Madell and Chris Vanderloo, who are prominently featured in the film, as these words underscore a scene in which their crew is dismantling their once hallowed CD sales racks in preparation for the store’s reluctant closure. OM used to herald as a beacon of hope in NYC’s bustling offbeat East Village neighborhood, a cultural hub known as St. Marks Place – not far from New York University. (If you asked any New Yorker for directions, they would enthusiastically tell you to simply “get off at the stop for Astor Place Station from the #6 or #4 [subway] train: you will see the gigantic cube immediately after exiting the station...can’t miss it!”)

The OM store opened its doors in 1996, and officially closed in 2016. Twenty years is a very good run for any kind of establishment such as this one, especially in the Big Apple – a fact that was not taken lightly by the two makers of this film who each were an employee and a regular customer at the establishment themselves! And like the store itself: the film is an endeavor for music nerds by music nerds. (And, obviously, this Dagger Zine review is no different.)

For creatively inclined weirdos like us, OM was a place of refuge. It was a major meta-musical mecca that happened to take the form of a retail outlet which is a very bold endeavor to consider: an unusual existence as a cultural outlet that strove to challenge our knowledge, expand our awareness, and promote the discovery of completely unknown (even uncomfortable) expressions. This mentality was not conducive whatsoever to the slick sales-driven experience one might come to expect upon shopping for any traditional kind of consumable commodities. And we certainly did not receive that kind of treatment while shopping there anyway!

OM’s purpose was contrary to basic principles of economics because it was run by artistic types who believed in a much higher purpose behind what they were selling: it was a community focused approach. In doing so, they completely confounded the basic notion that we were purchasing mere commercial products to be unloaded for profit (like toothpaste). The store’s very existence was a subversive act of culture jamming in and of itself. This information in conjunction with a solid awareness of the cut-throat and risky nature involved with doing any kind of enterprising endeavors in NYC is extremely pertinent. (I was once told that any restaurant in NYC would be far more successful if it were in another location simply because the competition alone would be considerably less stiff.)

Instead, they were offering something very unusual to their customers by incorporating some kind of pseudo-quasi-intellectual discourse using extraordinarily inventively stylistic fusions and/or varied often inconceivable sonic experiments to create such astute, pithy, and massively passionate descriptions that would be entirely ineffective as a sales strategy to the less tolerant/picky shoppers at the overpowering Tower Records across the street. The store had a unique energy that was entirely its own manifestation. Bin categories had mysterious names such as: in, then, decadanse, etc. that baffled even the artists whose own work was often filed underneath them, as evidenced by the hesitant testimony provided by indie rock luminary Dean Wareham (of the bands Galaxie 500 and Luna). In fact, these idiosyncratically descriptive insider taxonomies were typically used as a rite of passage upon orienting new store employees to OM’s unique aesthetic.  

The delectably raw live in-store performance footage of more acquired tastes, but definitely well-loved by those “in the know,” included bands who simply could not have thrived in the same ways at more conventional outlets: The Apples in Stereo, Neutral Milk Hotel, The Rapture, etc. The most delightfully peculiar act might have been delivered by a performer named Gary Wilson whose legendary appearance began with him surreptitiously entering the store while beneath a blanket and then (from behind the scenes, presumably) covering himself in talcum powder prior to seizing the stage with unabashedly alarming flamboyance – with only the playful tunes that would we expect to appropriately match that indelible image so gloriously!

And that was precisely the point: they were unequivocally rebelling against more conventional music consumption habits by offering an entirely different kind of taste-making experience that was kind of less palatable overall – and, in doing so, they even helped launch the careers of some important figures: Vampire Weekend, Animal Collective, and Interpol. The description of the “consignment” process for emerging artists who managed to attain a place on their sanctified shelves seemed extraordinarily modest considering the scope and nature of the impact it offered. There was a lot of social currency behind the OM brand.

The inclusion of a parody skit starring Aziz Anzari and Andy Blitz (available here as well https://youtu.be/YN1mKiQbi4g), followed by the various customer testimonials (including actor and musician Jason Schwartzman), indicated that they may have exuded more than a hint of an unflatteringly, even off-putting, air of NYC hipster pretentiousness akin to that portrayed in the Nick Hornby book, Stephen Frears movie, and/or the new Hulu series (involving both Hornby and Frears): High Fidelity. However, there were clearly very good reasons for them to do this: They represented an extreme mishmash of strange characters who collectively embodied all the historically marginalized shapes, sizes, colors among other attributes that would not have been celebrated (or considered marketable) elsewhere. If they weren’t a little snooty, they probably would have been mocked entirely – as evidenced by an astute and pithy comment by a long-time store employee describing Animal Collective as appearing like a “sinister Fraggle Rock on acid.”

These artists never aspired to becoming real “rock stars” anyway – on the contrary, they embodied the antithesis of that concept. (A point made abundantly clear as they bookended the film with footage of ordinary musicians simply marching through the streets of NYC.) Literally, OM offered shelter to those of us who are able to truly appreciate the anthemic idea behind the phrase: “songs in the key of Z.” It was a place for gathering the outsiders among outsiders, in other words.

It is impossible to ignore various impressive personalities who made appearances throughout the film, in both large and small roles. This includes but is not limited to major NYC scene contributors such as Lizzy Goodman, author of the equally compelling and similarly themed book: Meet Me in the Bathroom: Rebirth and Rock’n Roll in New York City 2001-2011. Footage in the film included key figures in influential bands including: TV on the Radio, Le Tigre, The National, Vampire Weekend, Yeah Yeah Yeahs (all of whom are also featured in Goodman’s book). You can also see glimpses of varied lesser known, yet supremely compelling figures of that era, including writers Kandia Krazy Horse and Geeta Dayal, and former store employees such as Lisa Garrett and Gerald Hammill.

These conversations take place until we eventually witness the demise of Tower across the street (and its many ilk of like-minded big box stores) which clearly signaled the ever-looming end for Vanderloo and Madell’s opus-like enterprise. A point that musician Stephin Merritt, best known for so many stellar masterpieces with his longest-running outfit, The Magnetic Fields, emphasizes upon casually observing the degrading presence of a fitness studio franchise that has since taken up residence in the spot that used to house Tower’s second floor. (I failed to try and restrain myself from recalling a new sense of irony from the lyrical lines that Merritt himself had written and recorded around 1991: “Why do we still live here.. In this repulsive town? All our friends are in New York.”)

There is also a bit of an underlying insinuation only apparent from random customer shots throughout the store regarding a possible impact from the Rough Trade Records shop that had recently opened in Brooklyn around the time of OM’s closing. This is exceedingly apparent to this biased writer herself who personally ventured out to that Williamsburg location last year for an in-store performance with NYU Punk Professor, Vivien Goldman, who had just published her own book Revenge of the She Punks. An event whose audience clearly included some members of the OM community featured in this film as I recall the store had heavily lauded her Resolutionary compilation album release prior to its official closing.

As the film successfully affirms the significance behind record store culture (especially in a global hub like NYC) which has long been hailed as a sacred gathering space for various misfits and weirdos who might find significantly less understanding and/or productive social outlets in other circumstances; its unavoidable bittersweet conclusion dramatically asserts how disappointing it is for us to witness the complete loss in their consistently tenuous financial viability as we are well into the digital information age – if not for the simple fact that paying for music (or any kind of intellectual property) is more commonly perceived as an anachronistic practice which is a clear and painful affront to all the prescient creative geniuses who are struggling to make an honest living off their work.

The film highlights the many multifaceted aspects that we fondly and endearingly associate with the appreciation of music that lies at the heart of the irrational fervor behind record collecting culture: the smell of the vinyl itself, the enormous visual impact around the artists’ choices for cover art, the substantial weight it possesses when we remove it from the sleeve, the delicacy necessary to handle vinyl so as to minimize any potential damage, its often very limited quantities as it is not cost-efficient to produce (the obscurity is intrinsically part of the exhilaration surrounding this “hunt”) among other substantial inconveniences that more or less confirm this as an unproductive – if not entirely illogical – endeavor overall!

Of course, it has always been very apparent to us that we were engaged in some insanely addictive bizarre kinds of quests that kept leading us to this absurd little locale in the first place – desperately trying to pacify some nebulous and insatiable deep cravings that we couldn’t always articulate… yet it always kept us coming back for more! As Mac McCaughan from the bands Superchunk and Portastic, as well as co-owner of Merge Records, astutely concludes: “They knew what you wanted before you knew.” (Of course, they did!)

The overarching and staunch message of this film is most apparent during the final closing scenes when we are eavesdropping on a conversation that the former co-owner, Josh Madell, is having with his young daughter about simply streaming the Hamilton Soundtrack on Spotify because the vinyl copy would have cost her $90 in the store. Perhaps even more ironic, of course, might be suggested by the very relevant context in which we find ourselves today: the annual Record Store Day celebratory event with which the film’s re-release was planned to coincide obviously could not happen. As a result, I was reluctantly watching it, albeit self-consciously, on my 13” laptop screen in my home office during the self-quarantine of COVID-19. Half the proceeds for the “tickets” were to be used to support one of my favorite local record shops here in Denver, CO, Twist and Shout, who may or may not be able to reopen as this pandemic situation evolves.

There are bigger questions to contemplate as the tide of change has only just begun in ways that only a tragedy, such as a worldwide pandemic, can facilitate for even the most obstinate luddites who have no choice but to incorporate regular use of digital formats in their daily habits – and we totally have, of course! This documentary remains as unequivocal evidence of the viability behind OM as it stood as an historic cultural hub that transcended the fundamental premise behind a commercial retail outlet. (Even though retail was once considered the only aspect of the industry where substantial money could be made. In fact, a measure of an artists’ success was often the number of albums they actually sold.) As its impact clearly exceeds its impressive years as a store-front operated business, it may also indicate a shortcoming in mainstream outlets who tend to ignore, silence, dismiss, and otherwise relegate the disempowered voices in our community – which, of course, are the major reasons that forced us to seek out these alternate forums in the first place.

The role of arts and culture for society is in fact to provide the very same opportunities that OM offered to us, which is (to reiterate that point from above) to provide an opportunity for discourse that challenges our knowledge, expands our awareness, and promotes the discovery of the completely unknown (even uncomfortable) expressions. These conversations give our lives meaning and force us to continually improve ourselves on many levels. While such commentaries could be considered an acquired taste or even an entirely esoteric endeavor, the crucial sensibilities they offer hold enormous potential for a world that honestly seems to need to hear from us… now more than ever!

If only we could find a better way to invite the integration of our perspectives into the bigger conversations? So that we can participate in the innovations for the changed world that will be waiting for us – and to ensure that it will be a more inclusive place for all of us. Which is perhaps what we ultimately (and so desperately) need, want, and deserve. The alternatives seem frighteningly Orwellian… at the risk of seeming a bit histrionic.

http://www.factorytwentyfive.com/other-music/?fbclid=IwAR3wtvtOKKC46YmfwjB6zv0wp5GMh4YBHFuWk0aLOti5m2NSs8PFChjrK4M

[foodtellsastory]

Ben Carson and the Fate of Soul Food

Ben Carson and the Fate of Soul Food

70. Dr. Ben Carson, a brilliant pediatric neurosurgeon, is now the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), because he’s….Well, I suspect the internal discussion went something like this: The U in HUD stands for “urban,” and, as Paul Ryan showed us, “urban” is a code word for “black.” So, let’s make Ben the head of HUD. A match made in Heaven or wherever, quod erat demonstrandum.

(By the way, this post will be about food. I promise.)

Anyway, back on March 6, 2017, his first day in office, Dr. Carson spoke to his HUD employees, declaring: “That’s what America is about, a land of dreams and opportunity. There were other immigrants who came here in the bottom of slave ships, worked even longer, even harder for less. But they too had a dream that one day their sons, daughters, grandsons, granddaughters, great grandsons, great granddaughters might pursue prosperity and happiness in this land.”

Let’s just say that the world of social media noticed. The Food Network’s Sunny Anderson had one of the more restrained reactions:

Carson’s statement did seem odd. When we think of “immigrants” coming to America, we probably don’t picture it like this:

Later in the day, on his first attempt to talk his way out of it, Dr. Carson appealed to a linguistic technicality: An immigrant might be defined as an individual member of a migration. Some migrations are voluntary, and some are not. (Ask the Cherokee people about the “not” version.) And so, it was as he first said: The enslaved were “involuntary” immigrants.

Well, ok. Some still objected. Jelani Cobb noted that calling an enslaved person an “immigrant” is like calling a kidnapping victim a “house guest.” At the time, slaveholders insisted that they were merely importing farm equipment, like a farmer today might import a Volvo tractor. The enslaved were considered property, not tourists. (Except when it came to seats in Congress. Then the slaveholders wanted their “property” to count the same as them. That’s where the infamous 3/5ths rule came in as a compromise.)

But even if we’re charitable and grant Dr. Ben that technical definition, it still wouldn’t explain his characterization that the enslaved had “worked even longer, even harder for less” in order to win the American Dream for their descendants.

On the face of it, it sounds like a backhanded argument against raising the minimum wage. Can’t make it on $7.25/hr? Stop whining, and work 16 hours instead of 8.

If that’s your politics, fine. But don’t compare it to life under enslavement. If we say they were working “for less” instead of “for free,” then we’re assuming that the enslaved at least got “paid” in free room and board, so it was ok. I mean, a hovel and a cup of cornmeal is worth something, right? There’s no free lunch.

And the rest of your “compensation”? Whippings were thrown in for free. Character-builders, I guess. Maybe Frederick Douglass wouldn’t have gotten up the gumption to escape and become an abolitionist hero if he hadn’t been beaten up so much.

Fact fact (not an “alternative fact”): Many of the enslaved who escaped made their way to Canada. What do we make of that? Carson said the African immigrants dreamed that their descendants “might pursue prosperity and happiness in this land.” But for many, “this land” was Canada, not America. So were they just un-American ingrates who didn’t realize how good they had it here? (See painting above….)

And while we’re at it, the enslaved weren’t quite allowed to have dreams for their descendants, because those descendants automatically inherited their enslaved status, simply by being born. They were, legally, the property of another person from birth. The tragic reality was something more like this newspaper clipping found by Michelle Munyikwa:

Before the day was over, the good Doctor was in full retreat. Carson insisted that he knows the difference between slavery and immigration. But that’s not so obvious. As Tera Hunter pointed out, this wasn’t the first time that Carson has waded into this swamp. He has compared Obamacare to slavery. He has compared reproductive freedom to slavery.

2014: One of the good ones had the guts to speak up

That rhetoric plays well on the right. Some insist on minimizing the horribleness of American enslavement, like Bill O’Reilly’s ridiculous comments last summer about “well-fed slaves.” We just don’t expect to hear it from a guy with ancestors who were, we assume, enslaved.

Bill O’Reilly, between lawsuits, pronounced slavery not so bad

But let’s turn the clock ahead to the early 20th century. Now, talk of “immigrants” (or more accurately, “migrants”) dreaming of a better life might be more plausible. We’re referring to the period known as “The Great Migration,” lasting from World War I into the 1960s, when millions of African Americans managed to leave the southern states for the north and west.

In this case, we certainly have the element of free choice. Indeed, as Carol Anderson summarizes in the second chapter of her book, White Rage, the southern white power structure used every tool at its disposal, short of starting another Civil War, to prevent African Americans from leaving. By that measure, it was the opposite of a forced migration.

We also have the motives that traditionally lured Europeans to America. Some went northward in search of better economic opportunities than were available in the segregated economy of the south. Others were running for their lives, seeking to dodge the renewed outbreak of lynchings and violence encouraged during the Woodrow Wilson administration.

In this sense, one might compare the experience of African American migrants in the north to the experience of foreign immigrant groups across our history, from the Germans, Irish, Scandinavians, Chinese, Italians, Mexicans, Koreans, and Vietnamese, to the Somalians, Ethiopians, and other more recent arrivals.

Food. Talk about Food…

For many reasons, migrants often seek out the food they ate back home. Opening small operations, such as cafes, food stands, pushcarts, and catering businesses has been a first step available for many minority groups in the face of racism, bigotry, and restriction.

Then, two things happen. First, the original “ethnic” dishes begin to take on the flavor of their surroundings. That was certainly the case for African American migrants. Some of the ingredients that were common and cheap down south were either unavailable in the north or their seasonality was more restricted. Much of today’s debate over yellow cornbread vs. white cornbread, for example, stems from the simple reality that up north, yellow cornmeal is what’s more likely to be on the grocery shelves. Northern wheat flour is different too.

We see this in the various menus of the Sweet Home Cafe at the Smithsonian’s new National Museum of African American History and Culture. What we probably think of as “soul food” is well-represented by the “Agricultural South” menu, with items like fried chicken, collard greens, mac and cheese, Hoppin’ John, and so on. The “Creole Coast” menu, representing the Low Country and Louisiana traditions, still sounds like soul food, with items like fried catfish (as a Po’Boy sandwich), and candied yams.

But as we move into the “North States” and “Western Range” menus, we run into items that don’t sound like “soul food” at all, like smoked Haddock, Yankee Baked Beans, “Son of a gun” Stew (with beef short ribs), and BBQ Buffalo brisket.

Sweet Home Cafe: soul food surrounded by history (NMAAHC photo)

These menus remind us that “soul food” is more than a particular list of dishes or ingredients. As a general rule, “soul food” dishes are characterized by close attention to seasoning, no matter what the dish is. There’s also that more esoteric quality of putting “love” or “soul” into the cooking. That’s impossible to pin down scientifically, but we know whether it’s there or not.

Both distinctions are important. Sometimes, we make “soul food” shorthand for “what black people eat.” By that measure, a Big Mac is soul food. In some areas, food redlining, like housing redlining, has helped create or reinforce segregated neighborhoods where people without sufficient money, transportation, or free time often end up going to the ubiquitous fast food places to grab cheap items made from government-subsidized ingredients. A Big Mac may not be a nutritionist’s dream food, but it is an economical way to get a lot of calories in a hurry.

No offense to the good folks at McDonald’s, but Big Macs are the antithesis of “soul food.” They’re not particularly well-seasoned, and it’s hard to put that indefinable element of “love” into food designed to be mass-produced quickly with minimal human intervention. There’s also no sense of down-home regionality in a Big Mac. Franchising’s raison d’être is that sandwich you buy in Bangor, Maine should taste like the one you buy in Pensacola, Chicago, Topeka, Sioux Falls, Salt Lake City,  Oakland, or whatever McDonald’s in DC is closest to the NMAAHC.

Just don’t call it soul food

On the positive side, the historic regional flexibility and adaptability of African American cuisine offers a key to its survival. Fair or not (and in this blog, we say Not), many criticize the traditional soul food menu as unhealthy. But there’s no reason why soul food restaurants can’t include lower fat, less sweet items or vegetarian/vegan items and still be made with love and good flavor. The African roots of soul food point to an emphasis on vegetables over meat, and developing flavors beyond what we can get from fats and sugar. “Soul food” was inherently adaptive, and still can be.

The other thing that happens to migrant foods is more challenging: As migrant groups become more fixed in the community, people from outside that group start frequenting the local eateries, and over time, the food itself changes to meet the tastes of the new customer base. Americanized versions of Chinese, Italian, or Mexican dishes are typically unrecognizable to visitors from those nations. The taco you buy at a Taco Bell in Minneapolis is not like the taco you might buy from a food truck in Los Angeles, let alone one from Mexico.

Midwesterners have discovered this with the influx of Latin American immigrants in the last twenty years. Here in Sioux City, when we’re sorting out dinner plans, “Let’s have Mexican!’ is inevitably followed by “You mean real Mexican or Taco Bell?” Many local Mexican restaurants cater to both tastes. For instance, you can usually order a taco “American style” (i.e., with cheese, ground beef, and no cilantro).

One meme put the issue succinctly. Don’t look up chingadera. Use your imagination.

Even the “real Mexican” menu is an invention. There is plenty of regional diversity in Mexican cuisine, and most restaurants pick and choose. Some “real Mexican” restaurants around here include Dominican or Guatemalan dishes, in an attempt to cater to the needs of as many groups as possible.

How far can “authentic” soul food be stretched before it becomes something else? I’ve heard it said that “southern” cooking is nothing more than soul food dumbed down in taste, fancied up in looks, and boosted up in price. I can order fried catfish and a side of collards at the Cracker Barrel, and it’s ok…but it’s not quite soul food either.

In real estate, “gentrification” describes the phenomenon of young white professionals moving into older, predominantly African American neighborhoods in search of cheaper rents or home prices. They fix up their houses, and open up coffee shops and such. In the process, property values increase, rents go up. Then, those without the incomes to support the new requirements find themselves being driven out.

In 2015, “Saturday Night Live” doctored up a real-life business in Bushwick to create their “Martha’s Mayonnaise” spoof of what happens under gentrification in Brooklyn.

Recently, this phenomenon of “gentrification” has been applied to soul food.

Two things happen with gentrification: First, we risk losing the historical significance of soul food. Think of it this way: There’s nothing more All-American than hamburgers and hot dogs, but we never think of their German roots. What was the “Hamburg” style of meat? Do we ever stop to think that “wiener” refers to Vienna? Does eating a chicken and roadkill hot dog oozing with white filler move us to seek out the rich sausages of the Central European tradition? Likewise, if soul food survives by the gentrification route, would it get disconnected from its soul?

Gentrified German soul food

Second, with gentrification, the people who created soul food may well be left out in the cold. On the eater’s side, Eboni Harris noted the phenomenon of how “‘ethnic’ foods are ‘discovered’ by well-meaning foodies – often white – who then raise the price of these meals until the original purveyors and consumers can no longer afford to eat them.”

Once upon a time, for instance, oxtails were considered so useless that some butchers gave them away for the asking. Today, oxtails are expensive, especially considering the small amount of meat on them. Barbecue aficionados have noted the same when it comes to brisket.

This is significant for soul food because one of the historic keys to soul food was in the ability of African American cooks to apply the legacy of West African cuisine to make less desirable foods, like neckbones or collards, taste great. But it’s hard for the average person to practice cooking and perfecting traditional dishes if the ingredients break the budget. (When I wanted to make oxtails, I practiced on cheaper stew meat before I dared invest in actual oxtails.)

On the cook’s side, we run into appropriation, aggravated by the multitude of ways in which institutionalized racism hinders African Americans from being able to capitalize on their food heritage. The difficulties faced by trained African American cooks in becoming chefs are quantifiable. We can work our way through the lists of the annual James Beard award winners. We can count up the black chefs that make it onto Chopped episodes, or check cookbook sales.

Last fall, there was a minor media fluff over Neiman-Marcus selling collard greens. We titled our reaction, “Greens for People Better Than You.” The gist of the piece was to wonder why anyone would pay so much for frozen greens rather than go to a local soul food restaurant and by some fresh greens for a fraction of the cost, and probably with superior flavor to boot.

Robert Irvine no doubt makes fine collard greens. Does it matter if his face becomes the face of collards, and his seasoning sets the standard?

For some, this is when “gentrification” begins to sound more like flat-out appropriation: white folks coming in and taking over, obscuring the history, and making money off of other people’s food traditions and hard work, while using the tools of contemporary segregation, such as equal access to capital, to shut out or shut down competitors.

It’s a double injustice. Many southern/soul food dishes were created or perfected by enslaved cooks paid nothing, or by underpaid cooks working under Jim Crow. Spin the clock ahead to 2017, and their descendants are feeling cheated again. Many soul food places are closing down just at a time when southern cuisine and barbecue are coming to national attention and popularity.

At that point, the broader quest for social and economic justice will have an impact on the fate of soul food. If the arc of the moral universe really does bend toward justice, the impact will be positive. The restaurant business is always challenging, but people who want to cook soul food, or include soul food dishes, will benefit from increased opportunities to follow their dreams.

Those of us who like to eat and/or cook soul food have a moral obligation to those who passed it down to us to invest ourselves not just in groceries but in the broader quest for justice. That requires, in the first place, knowledge. We should learn the history behind the cuisine, and also understand the current situation. More on that in a moment.

Soul food may also benefit from a renewed interest in home cooking. Some watch food programming on TV just for its entertainment value, but others get curious enough to try their own hand at things. I can tell from the new options on the grocery shelves at my neighborhood Walmart that people’s kitchen horizons must be broadening.

For some, cooking is a lost art. I’ve had the disconcerting experience of being asked to give advice, tips, or soul food recipes to younger African American women. I’m always flattered, but it just feels weird that they’re asking an old white guy for something that would be better learned from their parents or grandparents. What do I know? I’m just a student myself, and a pretty elementary one at that. I feel like John the Baptist meeting Jesus: “You want me to baptize you? Dude, you should be baptizing me!”

Cooking takes time and practice, a willingness to learn by trial-and-error, screw up a dish, apologize to your family…and then come back and try it again. The current level of interest in cuisines and cooking may give soul food a boost, both in terms of learning to cook them the old-fashioned way, and in adapting the classics to meet our interest in healthier options.

Hopefully, this hands-on practice in the kitchen may also get more people interested in the history behind the soul food. It’s in the nature of that cuisine that some of us are curious about what has gone into the “soul” part.

We know how this works in music. When Chuck Berry died in March, many of us on the downhill half of life’s mountain climb paused to reflect on the music of our childhood.

Chuck Berry in London, 1965. His music ended up teaching me more than music.

Like a lot of white teenagers in the 70s, I discovered Chuck Berry retroactively. I had learned his songs first from the covers done by the Beatles and the Stones. But then I got interested in going back and finding Berry’s originals, and that, in turn, led me to dig back even further into the roots of rock and roll in the r&b and jazz of the 1930s and ’40s. It wasn’t just the music either. Learning how the Delta blues became the Chicago blues, for instance, led to my introduction to the topic of the moment: the Great Migration.

The same has been true in exploring soul food. It prompted me to go back and learn a lot of history that I was never taught in school, and then to think about how that history continues to impact us. This blog reflects some of that journey. I’m sure some react to putting food and history together the same way that some react to putting pineapples on pizza. But I like it.

So, the question of authenticity may solve itself. Some will surely try to capitalize on dumbing-down soul food dishes for a broader audience, but others will respond by offering something more faithful to the living traditions.

Bottom line? Food is always in transition. Techniques, equipment, ingredients, and tastes change. “Soul food” isn’t a museum piece. It’s a living cuisine, and it would be inauthentic to try and somehow freeze it in time. Even the name may change. “Soul food,” after all, was a 1960s invention. The great Edna Lewis, it will be remembered, called it “country cooking.” But my educated guess is that it, whatever “it” is, will survive.

[malapertmarquess]

Now you've read all the plays I'm curious to know which Shakespeare movie adaptations you've seen. And what you think of them.

WELL THEN YOU ASKED FOR THIS HERE WE GO (sorry about the super long post guys)

Hamlet

Olivier, 1948 - Half the plot was cut to shorten the running time, which surprised me but does make sense. I thought that the focus on Hamlet’s family troubles was done quite well, and it works well. Did not like that Hamlet was one-dimensionally moody. Also the first production to put the infamous closet scene in Gertrude’s bedroom because Olivier quite liked Freud (he even cast a woman 14 years younger than him to play his mother, so super Oedipal). Do NOT agree.

Zeffirelli, 1990 - I know I’ve seen it, but it was pre-2008 sometime and I remember very little about it. I think it was also quite Oedipal? And I don’t think they kept the original text (I wish they had; Mel Gibson trying to speak in Early Modern English would be fucking hilarious). I don’t remember being terribly impressed. Like Braveheart but Danish?

Branagh, 1996 - Olivier’s antithesis! This film was everything Olivier’s was not: the scale was huuuuge, Branagh kept every line of the original text (and added a lot of flourishes), it was very anti-Oedipal (GOOD). The cast was very star-studded, which was cool but seemed to detract from the storytelling a lot because you’re too focussed on the fact that Robin Williams is in it for no known reason to pay attention to the text. Branagh’s characterisation was way more manic than the melancholy Olivier, but still came off as being a bit flat because his only emotion was ~INTENSE~.

Doran, 2009 - My fave.

Much Ado About Nothing

Branagh, 1993 - Kind of quintessential? I watched it in high school when we studied the play in record time because the teacher had us on the wrong one for two weeks. Emma Thompson was in it, and I eternally adore Emma Thompson. Also featured were the guy who plays Wilson on House and Keanu Reeves as the evil Don John, doing a wonderfully mopey Don John (guy’s such a wet blanket). There was a ridiculous scene when Bea and Ben “discover” their “love” for each other and decide to love the other back, which for some reason involved Emma Thompson on a swing and Kenneth Branagh splashing in a fountain. WHY.

ShakespeaRe-told, Nicholls, 2005 - A modern adaption set in a television studio. Very cleverly done, and given more of a sense of realism in a modern world than the original text has. I liked that at the end *spoilers* Hero wasn’t keen to get back together with Claudio, which is how most modern women would react in that situation. *end spoilers* Good actors, good adaption.

Rourke, 2011 - Another filmed stage show starring David Tennant (shut up). He’s opposite Catherine Tate, and OH MY GOD I love the energy those two have together. There���s a reason Donna’s my favourite Who companion. Both fit their roles very well and carry a believable relationship built on teasing each other mercilessly. The staging was brilliant, with a revolving circle making up most of the stage with some pillars to create separate spaces and for the actors to interact with. Also: Benedick enters majestically in a golf cart. And gets covered in paint. And Beatrice gets hoisted into the air by her belt. Basically this show is a JOY to watch.

The Taming of the Shrew

Zeffirelli, 1967 - I’m pretty sure I watched this one pre-2008 too, so I don’t remember much. I think I liked it well enough? There was a hayloft? Elizabeth Taylor was pretty great I think.

10 Things I Hate About You, 1999 - Pretty fab. Great casting, and I liked the changes they made to the story to make it more in keeping with the setting. Generally pretty good.

Twelfth Night

She’s the Man, 2006 - Another pre-2008 movie. I liked it a lot! I don’t remember terribly much, but I remember that. Makes my li’l cross-dresser’s heart happy.

Coriolanus

Van Someren, 2014 - This is the one with Tom Hiddleston. I like Tom Hiddleston. Almost as much as I like David Tennant. Hey, they should work together on something... Anyway, I watched this before I read the play, so I was unprepared for just how GAY it is. Like, Coriolanus and Aufidius are clearly either boning each other or having a lot of uncomfortable dreams about boning each other. Also Hiddles strips off his shirt early on, and even a flaming asexual can appreciate the beauty that is Tom Hiddleston’s chest. His muscles are very impressive. Another filmed stage show - this one had a fairly minimal set, which I like! It had a really gritty, warlike feel, almost industrial, which worked really well with the grimness of the play. I probably would have gotten more out of it if I’d read the play previously.

King Lear

Nunn, 2008 - Ian McKellan is a brilliant Lear! You can really see how delicate he is, despite all the posturing. The madness scenes were very heartstrings-pulling, with his flowers and all. It’s another stage show, but you’d hardly know it with the amount of dirt and tussock they managed to get hold of. Like how is that workable?? I’m a bit amazed. The costumes are GORGEOUS. So great. I’m retrospectively a bit disappointed that Regan wasn’t cleverer in this version. They did manage to answer the question of the Fool’s disappearance quite well, though.

Romeo and Juliet

Romeo + Juliet, Luhrmann, 1996 - It’s very iconic, and Luhrmann uses imagery really well, but I’m just not that into it, despite Tumblr’s obsession with the film.

Titus Andronicus

Titus, Taymor, 1999 - This film is fucking WEIRD. I watched the first 10 minutes of it in a uni class, and they made zero sense. I later watched the whole film, and it made slightly more sense. The film is completely anachronistic, with ancient Rome superimposed onto the twentieth century, or maybe the other way around. There is symbolism in SPADES, and it’s really artsy symbolism that isn’t always clear. Anthony Hopkins plays the titular role, and I think he’s well suited to the role. It also has Alan Cumming in it, and I don’t know how that happened.

The histories

The Hollow Crown, Eyre, 2012-2016 - Lumping this all together because it’s easy. I really liked this series for several reasons:

It presented most of the history plays together in a way that emphasised their interconnectivity, because out of the 10 history plays, 8 of them are consecutive, and the same characters pop up in several plays. It also provided a lot more context for the later plays and about the Wars of the Roses in general.

Margaret of Anjou is a BAMF. Like, so cool. She murders people like it’s the most fun she’s had all day, and she’s fierce and fearless and spitting curses, but she’s also a mother and a powerful leader and strategist.

Bolingbroke/Henry IV is so damn serious - such a stick-in-the-mud - and he tries SO HARD, but then he gets stuck with Harry and is So. Disappointed.

Harry and his gang are pretty great, especially Poins. I may have started lowkey shipping Poins and Harry.

Benedict Cumberbatch plays Richard III, and while I’m not as enamoured of him as I was, I still have mad respect for his acting ability, and he does the part really well.

So yeah. A+ work.

Richard III

Loncraine, 1995 - Sir Ian returns as one of our favourite villains. Always a pleasure to watch him, almost as much as watching Maggie Smith as his mother. That woman is a gem, and I can still remember the thrill of hearing her spill all the venom she feels for her son. The setting is a 1930s fascist dictatorship, so obviously a lot of telling imagery there. It was interesting, but I wasn’t as thrilled by the direction as I was by Dame Maggie.

So that’s all of them, And I think I might have seen Branagh’s version of Love’s Labour’s Lost? It’s a musical. And there was colour symbolism. I remember nothing else, so I’m not counting it.

[coin-river-blog]

We are all Satoshi Nakamoto, but some of us are more Satoshi than others. The following 10 characters have all been flagged as Bitcoin’s elusive creator on account of similarities with the digital man of mystery. Whether one of these characters is Satoshi himself is a matter for you to decide.

Also read: Facebook Globalcoin: Killer or Multiplier?

Vili Lehdonvirta

Pros: The Finnish professor is one of the first people to be suggested as Satoshi, in a 2011 New Yorker article. Due to the lack of fevered speculation at the time, which has tainted subsequent attempts to uncover Satoshi, Vili Lehdonvirta’s dox feels purer than the rest. That doesn’t make it any more correct though.

Cons: When questioned by the New Yorker’s writer, the 31-year-old Helsinki Institute for Information Technology researcher explained that he had no cryptography knowledge and his C++ programming was rudimentary.

Fun fact: Vili Lehdonvirta is now an Associate Professor and Senior Research Fellow at the Oxford Internet Institute, University of Oxford, and a Fellow of the Alan Turing Institute who has written about Bitcoin, most recently in an article titled “Bitcoin isn’t a currency – and unless it becomes one it could be worthless.”

Vili Lehdonvirta

Paul Le Roux

Pros: If Le Roux created Bitcoin, Satoshi is the 21st century’s biggest bad-ass. Encrypted software creation, drug smuggling, pharmaceuticals, gun running, nation building, you name it, Le Roux had a finger in it – and building Bitcoin would have been well within his grasp and megalomaniacal ambition.

Cons: When Satoshi was studiously refining Bitcoin in 2009, Le Roux was already dabbling in drug smuggling gun running and empire building. It seems unlikely that these opposing pursuits would have been compatible. Also, Satoshi always came across as humble in his writings. Le Roux was a power-tripping douchebag who insisted on being called “Boss.”

Fun fact: Le Roux’s online pharmaceutical system circa 2006 is described in “The Mastermind” as follows: “Take one out and another simply slotted into place. The network kept humming on.” Remind you of anything?

Paul Le Roux

Gavin Andresen

Pros: Gavin Andresen is the Bitcoin developer Satoshi handed the reins to upon his departure in 2010. If the two were one and the same, this would be a pretty effective way for Satoshi to check out without ever actually leaving the building. Moreover, according to one stylometry study, Andresen’s writing more closely resembles Satoshi’s than any other candidate.

Cons: In 2016, Andresen became the first of many bitcoiners to be hoodwinked by Craig Wright, after venturing that Wright’s Satoshi claim checked out. Either Andresen was super gullible or he was playing 4D chess to put further distance between himself and his pseudonym.

Fun fact: Gavin Andresen created the first bitcoin faucet in 2010. It dispensed 5 BTC to anyone who visited the site and completed a captcha.

Gavin Andresen

Hal Finney

Pros: As the first respondent to Satoshi’s mailing list post announcing Bitcoin, and the recipient of the first bitcoin transaction, Hal Finney epitomizes Bitcoin more than any other known person. Finney saw the long-term potential for Bitcoin just like Satoshi, and could eloquently elucidate a world in which it reigned supreme. Just to add to the body of evidence, Gavin Andresen isn’t the only person whose writing style echoes Satoshi’s: writing analysis experts Juola & Associates claim that Nakamoto’s and Finney’s writings bear the closest resemblance.

Cons: For Satoshi to have essentially conversed with himself and transacted with himself in dealing with Finney doesn’t make sense for a character who went to such lengths to conceal his identity. He would have surely known that Finney would get doxed as him at some point, and thus it seems illogical for Satoshi to have left such an obvious trail of breadcrumbs.

Fun fact: Hal Finney lived two blocks away from Dorian Satoshi Nakamoto, giving rise to theories that the former took his nom de plume from the latter. As one redditor postulated: “Hal and his cypherpunk counterparts intended for this old friendly retired man whose house had been foreclosed by banksters to be the symbolic figure behind the financial renaissance on behalf of all the victims of the modern financial system.”

Hal Finney

Nick Szabo

Pros: Stylometry seems to be an imprecise art given the number of people who have been identified as Satoshi by their writings. Nick Szabo is the third such candidate on this list, but there are way more compelling reasons why he’s likely to be Satoshi, such as the fact that the computer scientist’s “bit gold” is the closest forerunner to Bitcoin. Nick Szabo is more qualified than anyone on this list to have built Bitcoin.

In 2008, Szabo commented in his blog that he was planning to create a live version of bit gold; that this should have manifested, a few months later, as Bitcoin seems credible. Szabo’s excellent blogposts circa 2008 have all the hallmarks of Satoshi. Phrases such as “unforgeable costliness” and shout outs to Hal Finney place Szabo extremely close to Bitcoin’s nucleus.

Cons: Szabo has consistently denied being Satoshi, debunking one such instance in 2014 by writing: “I’m afraid you got it wrong doxing me as Satoshi, but I’m used to it.”

Fun fact: Satoshi’s telling decision not to cite Szabo’s work on bit gold in the Bitcoin whitepaper may be the most compelling evidence of all.

Nick Szabo

Bram Cohen

Pros: Born in 1975, the same year Satoshi cites as his DOB, Bram Cohen was playing with “bits” long before Bitcoin. The Bittorrent creator once ran a Usenet site called Bitconjurer.org, where he conversed with the creator of Hashcash, which inspired Bitcoin. Cohen’s prolific blogposts also slowed to a crawl when Satoshi began work on Bitcoin, and he had similar interests to Satoshi, writing about hiding one’s identity online in 2009, and weighing in on digital signatures around the same time. Cohen’s interest in recreational mathematics also makes him a credible Satoshi.

Cons: Cohen’s current project is a “green” cryptocurrency called Chia that he claims to be the “antithesis” of Bitcoin and PoW. It’s hard to imagine Cohen dismissing his former life’s work in this manner.

Fun fact: Cohen has tweeted about Satoshi 10 times over the years, but has never outright denied being him.

Bram Cohen

Dorian Satoshi Nakamoto

Pros: Aside from sharing the same name as Bitcoin’s creator, there is virtually no reason why Dorian Nakamoto should be Satoshi, except for having lived a few blocks away from the other probable Satoshi, Hal Finney. If anything, though, this would make it more likely that Hal was Satoshi, and borrowed his fellow denizen’s name.

Cons: Dorian may have become the face of Satoshi, but he is certainly not the brain.

Fun fact: Such is his celebrity, Dorian Nakamoto has been booked to appear at blockchain conferences.

Dorian Nakamoto

Craig Wright

Pros: Wright really, really, wants to be Satoshi, and has been larping as him since 2016. You can probably recall feeling the same way about one of your superheroes, wishing you could fall asleep and wake up in their body. In your defense, you were six at the time. Wright is a 48-year-old man.

There is some evidence that Wright was lurking in the shadows not long after Bitcoin got off the ground, but all that proves is that Faketoshi is a chancer who’s built a career out of riding in the slipstream of brighter stars.

Cons: Craig and cons go together like moonshine and mason jars. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but Jameson Lopp’s lengthy takedown of the man who would be Satoshi is a fine jumping off point.

Fun fact: Wright applied to the Australian Defence Force Academy to train as a pilot in 1987 but was rejected.

Craig Wright

Dave Kleiman

Pros: Kleiman has been alleged to be a part of the Satoshi Nakamoto group along with fellow Satoshi claimants Craig Wright and Phil Wilson. The latter two have zero credible proof of building Bitcoin, while Kleiman died in 2013. An avid cryptographer, Kleiman was a member of the mailing list where Satoshi first announced Bitcoin on Oct 31, 2008. He also worked for S-doc, an encryption-focused software company that was developing an “unalterable, encrypted audit log system.”

Cons: Any documents associating Kleiman with Bitcoin come courtesy of Craig Wright, and thus are almost certainly fake. As a result there is an absence of credible evidence to suggest that Kleiman created Bitcoin. The fact that Wright has been circling Kleiman’s family like a vulture in a bid to claim his share of an alleged 1 million BTC trust is the strongest evidence that Kleiman created Bitcoin – and Wright didn’t. Had any other member of the cryptography mailing list died first, Wright would have surely set his sights on them instead, as part of a long con to extract millions of dollars through legal chicanery.

Sad fact: Dave Kleiman died in abject poverty and squalor. “His body was found decomposing and surrounded by empty alcohol bottles and a loaded handgun … a bullet hole was found in his mattress, though no spent shell casings were found on the scene.”

Dave Kleiman

An Enduring Mystery That May Never Be Solved

There are many others who’ve been named as Satoshi, including Elon Musk, white supremacist James Bowery and, slightly more credibly, a trio of researchers – Neal King, Vladimir Oksman and Charles Bry. These, along with other suspects, are unlikely to have had a hand in the creation of Bitcoin however. For anyone interested in trying to crack the case, Satoshi’s writings, amounting to 80,000 words, can be viewed at the Nakamoto Studies Institute. Be prepared to tumble down a rabbit hole of late night Google searches and stylometry only to emerge no closer to the truth.

Most people who are hung up on the enigma of who Satoshi is or was would concede that it would be best for Bitcoin if his identity was never discovered. And yet they cannot resist searching for, to quote Albert Einstein, “The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existence.”

Who do you think is the likeliest candidate for Satoshi Nakamoto? Let us know in the comments section below.

Images courtesy of Shutterstock.

Did you know you can verify any unconfirmed Bitcoin transaction with our Bitcoin Block Explorer tool? Simply complete a Bitcoin address search to view it on the blockchain. Plus, visit our Bitcoin Charts to see what’s happening in the industry.

Kai Sedgwick

Kai's been playing with words for a living since 2009 and bought his first bitcoin at $12. It's long gone. He's previously written white papers for blockchain startups and is especially interested in P2P exchanges and DNMs.

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