What are some interesting facts about Federation Square, Melbourne?

By: | Post date: October 16, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Australia

Federation Square. Opened at the centenary of Australian Federation, in 2001. Strange, po-mo, mixed-use space in the very navel of the world, as far as any Melburnian is concerned: the four corners of the intersection of Swanston and Flinders St—

  1. Flinders Street railway station,
  2. Fed Square,
  3. St Paul’s Cathedral,
  4. Young and Jackson Hotel.

As Melbourne a navel of the earth as you can get:

  • Public transport
  • A social hangout
  • A monument to Anglicanism
  • A pub

Fed Square is a locale with eateries, uneven walkways, open spaces, museums, and a performance area.

And very very big screens, which help make it a default destination for people during major sporting events. Particularly World Cup soccer, but as depicted below, more genteel watching of tennis, too.

When it was built, I was a young lecturer, and Fed Square had opened up. It’s where my students would disappear to at lunchtime. I sneered, like many a Melburnian sneered, at its po-mo unevenness and ramps, and its Meccano buildings. I’m not convinced to this day that people love the architecture. But they do love hanging out around it.

Before there was Fed Square, those were dark days, when Swanston St was open to traffic, and there was a Hook turn for motorists onto Flinders St—a manoeuvre commemorated in the TISM song Get thee in my behind, Satan:

In those dark days, the site of this Square was occupied by the utterly unlamented Princes Gate Towers, headquarters of the Gas & Fuel Corporation of Victoria.

The site is at the navel of Melbourne, flanked by the gothic loveliness of the Cathedral, the rotund majesty of Flinders St Station, and the shabby comeliness of Young & Jacksons. And what did Melbourne put there in 1967?

Well, what was in fashion architecturally in 1967?

The monolith of 2001: A Space Odyssey was filmed in ’68. Coincidence? I think not!

Wikipedia, what say you?

The towers were appreciated by some as modernist architectural icons.

Yeah. Screw those guys.

However, many Melbourne residents regarded the towers as eyesores and criticised their size and placement.

Ya think?

The towers were considered to have cut the city off from the river and also detracted from Saint Paul’s Cathedral and the heritage facades along Flinders Street. The towers were much larger than any of the surrounding buildings and were said to have dominated the surrounding context.

Were said?!

What part of

do you not understand, Wikipedia?!

An Australian Women’s Weekly article from 1969 expresses the general public sentiment towards the towers at the time:

“Once the Graceful spires of St. Paul’s Cathedral dominated the southern entry to Melbourne. In 1967, the ultra modern twin towers of the Princes Gate complex raised their lean, unornamented 17 storeys to rob strollers on the banks of the Yarra of their traditional view.”

Well, suffice it to say that when the Gas & Fuel Corp was privatised in 1996, those twin towers did not look ultra-modern or lean. They looked like bulldozer bait. And that’s what they were.

modernist architectural icons

F*ck you too.

A frank discussion chez Esmaili

By: | Post date: October 16, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Quora

Pegah Esmaili’s answer to Do ex-Muslims face discrimination at their homes?

No not at all, only my grandmother has a few times looked at me as if “what the fu*k are you trying to be my beloved damn grandchild? weren’t you praying till…like 2-3 years ago?”

https://www.quora.com/Do-ex-Musl…

It looked a little bit like this, didn’t it?

I did leave out Pegah’s altar to a potato chip. Luckily.

Why are there several anti-Islamic parties in Australia?

By: | Post date: October 16, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Australia

Other answers have addressed why there are anti-Islamic parties in Australia.

Why are there several anti-Islamic parties in Australia?

Splinterism, an endemic issue with extremist parties, and movements in general preoccupied with ideological purity rather than electoral success through coalition politics. Communism is even more notorious for splinterism, after all.

Latest instance I can think of: the United Patriots Front has splintered from Reclaim Australia, because Reclaim Australia wasn’t monomaniacally anti-Islamic enough.

But if we go through AIJAC’s list, we see another reason: anti-Islamism is not a defining characteristic of many of the parties listed there; it’s just a common attribute of populist right/far right groupings.

What would you choose in the following coin flip scenarios? Explain your thought process.

By: | Post date: October 16, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Personal

I did Engineering as an undergrad. So I should have a good appreciation of statistics, and work through the odds, right?

Screw that. I played a slot machine once when I was 16, lost all the money I put in after being ahead, and I’m not doing that shit again. I refuse to set foot on my own into the Melbourne Casino (although sometimes I have no choice, such as my cousin’s wedding reception, or my wife buying tickets to see *sigh* Richard Marx).

Besides, Melbourne Uni’s teaching of Engineering is crap, and the way they teach maths to engineers is even worse. You can taste the contempt from the lecturers. Anything I learned in probability and statistics went in one ear and out the other.

So I’ll take the 1K. Every. Fricking. Time.

Which, of course, is why I am not loaded.

Why would Mahler use so many unusual instruments (like the off-stage cowbells or the celesta in Symphony No. 6) in his symphonies? Are they really helpful for expressing the themes?

By: | Post date: October 14, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Music

Brian van der Spuy is quite right that the extensive orchestral palette is in line with Mahler’s desire to encompass the world in his symphonies.

Howard Levitsky’s answer, featuring Gershwin’s car horns, is ironic, given the contemporary reaction to the cowbells in Mahler’s 6th:

Gustav Mahler Pictures

The cartoon’s caption reads: “Herr Gott! Daß ich die Huppe vergessen habe! Jetzt kann ich noch eine Sinfonie schreiben.” (My God, I’ve forgotten the motor-horn! Now I shall have to write another symphony).

The cartoon was published in the Austrian/German magazine, Die Muskete (The Musket), on 10 January 1907. The cartoonist was Fritz Schönpflug (1873-1951).

Was it helpful? Yes, because Mahler (who after all had a day job as an opera conductor) had a keen sense of orchestral colour, and timbre is a major component of his musical meaning. If offstage bands and mistuned violins were part of the palette he used to communicate, then cowbells and harmoniums were too. And Mahler always used his colours with great delicacy, it wasn’t a wall of sound.

Was it effective? Personal opinion follows:

  • The whip in the scherzo of the 5th: yes, it contributes to the manicness of that particular passage.
  • The hammer in the 6th: most of the time the realisation of the hammer blow is underwhelming. Even when it isn’t, the “thud” is an extramusical, programmatic element; musically, I’d add a couple of bass drums would have done the same job. But watching a performance, and seeing the performer slowly walk up to the hammerbox, is powerful. (Opera conductor, remember.)
  • The cowbells of the 5th and 6th: I know what Mahler was communicating, and why he was communicating it at those points. My opinion, he didn’t need it, it’s a little too real-world to be integrated into the fabric of what is going on—music on its own conveys pastoral solace just fine. I find it a little distracting. Mercifully in all the performances I’ve heard, it’s pretty damn quiet.
  • The mandolin in the 7th: yes. There’s a lot of atmosphere-painting where it is used, and it fits.
  • The celeste and the harmonium in the 8th. Sorry, I find the picture Mahler paints at that point, of the Mater Gloriosa, silly. But you know, that means that the celeste and the harmonium are all too effective: that was the picture Mahler meant to paint, and it’s what Goethe chose to write. The 2nd movement of the 8th is after all an oratorio, with a lot of tone painting going on. We just can’t buy into the Eternal feminine now.

Lutoslawski said that Shostakovich was simply “the second coming of Mahler.” Would you agree?

By: | Post date: October 14, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Music

Did he? The version I’m familiar with is Boulez saying Shosty was “the second, or even third, pressing of Mahler” (Shostaphobia)

A lot of modern masters that have not severed themselves completely from Common Practice are in debt to Mahler some of the time. There’s several pieces I can think of that are very close to him; Malcolm Arnold’s Symphony 2 Movt 3 is one:

John Adams’ Harmonielehre another (although the minimalism means it doesn’t quite work):

And yes, lots of people compare Shostakovich and Mahler, usually negatively. They’re both emotional in their symphonic oeuvre (although Shostakovich is rather more varied, and decidedly nonlinear in how his style changed). And Shostakovich persisted with the symphonic genre, whereas in the West Mahler was often regarded as the end of that tradition.

I’ve heard all the Mahler symphonies. I’ve heard all the Shostakovich symphonies. My favourite Shostakovich symphony is the 4th, which is clearly his most Mahlerian. But most of Shostakovich’s symphonies aren’t that Mahlerian. There’s more melancholy and vibrancy, less expansiveness and emotional journey; Shostakovich’s constructions are tighter and less sprawling; his orchestration more toned down.

Shostakovich is still operating in the same symphonic tradition as Mahler, though. The comment, as much as anything, reflects how unusual that already was by the ’30s.

I’m majoring/teaching a foreign language. How can I safeguard my own native identity and culture?

By: | Post date: October 14, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Culture

Of course, there is a clear colonialism subtext going on here. If you were studying, say, Russian or Korean in Morocco, would you feel the same?

I’m assuming that you would not; you tell me. You would immerse yourself in Korean culture, you would go to Seoul often, you would have lots of Bibimbap. But your day to day identity as a Moroccan would not feel compromised. You would still, eh, go to the souk and listen to the oud and eat cous-cous in your day-to-day life; your Korean specialisation would be a side thing, a hobby, not something that compromises who you are.

But you’re not studying Korean. You’re studying the literature of the hegemonic culture of your recent past. By teaching French, you’d be perpetuating the hegemony of French culture in Morocco. You would be joining in with those who prefer to express themselves in the hegemon’s language rather than in Arabic (or Berber).

So what to do?

Well, the fashion in a lot of Western university French departments is postcolonialism, and concentrating on voices in literature outside of France. I (and others) would argue that it’s gone too far, and that completely ignoring the dead white male canon of French literature gives you a curriculum that is all reaction and nothing to react to. But that is possibly not the fashion in Morocco.

If it isn’t, then embrace it. Make sure you include in your studies and your teaching the voices of those who are not part of the hegemonic discourse. In particular, look at how Beurs and Francophone Moroccans are negotiating being between two worlds, and how they use the hegemon’s language to express things outside the hegemon’s culture.

Don’t just focus on Moroccan French writers either—that’s too narrowly parochial: if you just wanted to focus on Morocco, you wouldn’t be studying French at all. Look at Canada, or Haiti, or Francophone Africa, or Vietnam, or the Pacific.

And if you care about Morocco, and want to stay attached to your roots, stay in Morocco, and act as a bridge and an exemplar. If that’s not an option, make alliances with Moroccans wherever you end up.

And remember. The souk really is just around the corner. It’s pretty hard to be deracinated in your own country; you’d really have to make a conscious, continuous effort not to engage with your roots. Your roots are right there, after all.

Do other countries have any equivalents to “states rights”, as in the USA?

By: | Post date: October 14, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Australia, Countries

Like other reluctant federations, Australia has a constitution that safeguards powers of the states. These have become less attention-grabbing with time; Australians are still parochial about their states, but they’re more excited when that parochialism involves beer brands than legislature.

The WWII switcheroo, whereby the Federal Government appropriated all taxation power of the states as an “emergency” measure (not repealed, unsurprisingly) has given the states a lot less heft anyway. And most migrants to Australia, my parents included, scratch their heads at federalism, and ask “why do they keep the states around?”

The states do run a lot of day-to-day stuff that isn’t as visible as federal politics, but is likely more pervasive. And the states would in fact be within their rights to adopt an established religion, and do all sorts of other things the constitution doesn’t enumerate. But we have not had much of a discourse of states’ rights. The most visible it gets is the annual haggling over money handed out from Canberra (the Feds hand back to the States the money they can’t raise on their own).

The closest we have is resentment at the centre, most overt in the states furthest from Canberra, Queensland and Western Australia, which maps to states not wanting to be told where their money goes, or how to run their affairs.

Regional Queensland politicians, for example, have tried to cast Marriage Equality as Federal Interference—which I guess is the closest to States Rights US-style. You could argue that those politicians are at odds with the population of their own state capital. To which they will answer that if they had their way, they’d secede from Brisbane anyway. The ACT, on the opposite side, passed marriage equality legislation, which was struck down by the High Court—because over here, marriage is a federal issue, not a state/territory issue.

But no, not highly visible.

(I suspect I’ve got a lot of this wrong, and I request Tracey Bryan to post her own more correct answer.)

In US English why is Caucasian not considered a politically incorrect term, and consequently still regularly utilised in speech?

By: | Post date: October 13, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Culture

It’s interesting, isn’t it. We don’t hear Mongoloid or Negroid in the US. That isn’t because the US has suddenly turned away from Racial categories; they call them Asian and Black or African-American. And add to that Latino (very much an American classification), Native American, and Islander.

But Whites have retained Caucasian in the States.

Of course, one of the salient things about racial categorisation in the US, which is alien to the Old World, is that the most salient social tribal groupings within the US have not been based on ethnicity (whatever that may mean), as is familiar in the Old World. Whites as a tribal grouping in the States results from a melting pot of European cultures; English was the common language, but people didn’t rally around an English or even British culture—too many Irish and Germans from the very start. The same of course goes for Blacks in the US, with the added component of repression and cultural suppression.

So whiteness is a big deal in the States that it wasn’t elsewhere. Other whites, even slave-owning whites, would identify by ethnicity first and skin colour second; that wasn’t quite an option in the US. There was of course the new identity of American; the problem with that was, it didn’t adequately exclude blacks.

So. That’s why whites get referenced much more in the US than elsewhere. But why Caucasians and not Negroids?

My surmise (since I don’t get good guidance from Wikipedia this time) is that in the late 19th century, White Americans were aware that their allegiance to race rather than ethnicity was an odd thing by European standards, and were eager to find scientific backing for it. “White” and “Black”, and even more now “Yellow” and “Red”, sound like a bizarre focus of allegiance: you’re proclaiming allegiance to a pigment, not a tradition or a community. (White people in Europe sure didn’t feel they all belonged to the same thing.) Racial Anthropology supplied that for White Americans.

White Americans did not feel the need to speak of Negroids or Mongoloids outside the context of anthropology or eugenics. I think that’s because the scientific discourse was more about ennobling White Americans’ self-identity, than about systematising their notions of other races. Caucasians may have felt funny paying allegiance to a pigment; they didn’t feel embarrassment from reducing other races to a pigment.

Yellow and Red are long dead. The opposition of African-American to Black and Negro came from the astute observation that Blacks had an ethnic identity in the US, comparable to all the ethnic identities of “hyphenated Americans”, which could be opposed to a pigment. That move has its own problems: South African Americans and North African Americans are not who it is meant to designate; and “African” is an ethnic identity only in America, for the same reason “Caucasian” is an ethnic identity only in America. But it has been successful.

And that leaves Whites. Caucasian was appropriated from the framework of Racial Anthropology. But it was recontextualised, and it was never thought of as derogatory. You can argue that Negroid and Mongoloid are derogatory; in fact, it’s hard to use those terms now with a straight face. But Caucasian is no longer defined in the same paradigm as Negroid and Mongoloid: Americans have forgotten all about the original Racial Anthropology framework, and I doubt most users of “Caucasian” have even heard of “Mongoloid”. Caucasian is now defined in opposition to Asian and African-American. Its etymology is now just an historical accident.

So in short: the legacy you allude to for Caucasian, OP, has been forgotten about. The word is being used in a paradigm that owes a lot to that legacy—but that existed before it, and have survived after it.

How many of you are aware of atrocities done by the Assyrians, Armenians and Kurds in 1918 in Western Azerbaijan?

By: | Post date: October 13, 2016 | Comments: No Comments
Posted in categories: Countries

A2A from Pegah. Same answer as User. I know of the Armenian genocide, and the counterclaims of Armenians massacring Turks. Being Greek, I have been disinclined to research the counterclaims too seriously. I wouldn’t be surprised if the statistics of Azeris killed were conscripted into the statistics of Turks killed. But no, I was not aware of it.

Not the answer you deserve. I’m sorry.

And thank you for putting it the way you did, Pegah. Who was killed must matter more than who did the killing.

EDIT: About not knowing.

Georges Drettas wrote a grammar of Pontic Greek in 1995. The texts he gathered for the grammar talked about how life was in the Black Sea, before the population exchanges. The Pontic Greeks overlapped geographically with the Armenians. The texts make no mention of the Armenian genocide.

Drettas’ conclusion: the Pontic Greeks did not mention the Armenian genocide, not because it didn’t happen, but because they didn’t care. That’s what relations between ethnic groups in the Ottoman Empire looked like.

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