"Smokey and the Bandit” premiered on May 19, 1977.    

Aztec Sun Stone (Calendar Stone) depicts five consecutive worlds of the sun from Aztec mythology.

Stone is not, therefore, in any sense a functioning calendar, but rather it is an elaborately carved solar disk, which for Aztecs and other Mesoamerican cultures represented rulership.

At the top of the stone is a date glyph (13 reed), which represents both beginning of the present sun, fifth and final one according to mythology, and the actual date 1427 CE, thereby legitimizing the rule of Itzcoatl (who took power in that year) and creating a bond between divine and mankind.

Stone was discovered in December 1790 CE in central plaza of Mexico City. It now resides in National Museum of Anthropology in that city.

The richly carved basalt stone was once a part of the architectural complex of Temple Mayor and measures 3.58m in diameter, is 98cm thick, and weighs 25 tons.

Stone would originally have been laid flat on the ground and possibly anointed with blood sacrifices.

When it was discovered, the stone was lying flat and upside down, perhaps in an attempt to prevent the final cataclysm — fall of fifth and final sun as Aztec world fell apart following the attack from Old World.

At the centre of the stone is a representation of either the sun god Tonatiuh (the Day Sun) or Yohualtonatiuh (the Night Sun) or the primordial earth monster Tlaltecuhtli, in the latter case representing the final destruction of the world when the fifth sun fell to earth.

The tongue is perhaps also a sacrificial knife and, sticking out, it suggests a thirst for blood and sacrifice.

Around the central face at four points are other four suns, which successively replaced each other after gods Quetzalcoatl and  Tezcatlipoca struggled for control of the cosmos until the era of the fifth sun was reached.

The suns are known by the day name on which their final destruction occurred.

Beginning from the top right, there is the first sun Nahui Ocelotl (4 - Jaguar), top left is the second sun Nahui Ehécatl (4 - Wind), bottom left the third sun Nahui Quiáhuitl (4 - Rain), and bottom right is the fourth sun Nahui Atl (4 - Water).

On either side of the central face are two jaguar heads or paws, each clutching a heart, representing the terrestrial realm.

The band running immediately around the suns is segmented into the 20 Aztec day-names (hence Calendar Stone name).

Then there is a decorative ring surrounded by another ring depicting symbols, which represent turquoise and jade, symbols of the equinoxes and solstices, and the colours of the heavens.

Two heads at bottom centre represent fire serpents, and their bodies run around perimeter of the stone with each ending in a tail.

Four cardinal and the inter-cardinal directions are also indicated with larger and lesser points respectively.

A day at the museum with daddy little one 🌙

plot: Steven decides to take Isaac to the museum dispite his ex manager going to berate him for what Marc did from his fight with a demonic jackal…

a/n: This is the second fic the single dad au of Oscar’s moon knight and im sorry for my Jewish readers if I messed up on certain parts

prev. Next

They were bickering about today plans again but this time they keep accidentally switching controlling the body , “Steven you can’t just take Isaac out to the museum now” Marc complained in control of his own body before switching to Steven to clap back his reason and making Isaac laugh at the switching “but Marc I wanted to show him all the Egyptian things and history of how the civilization went through and such” Steven retorts while cleaning up his breakfast and gets isaac clean up from the baby food mess, then looks at his reflection of a grump Marc. “and it’s your fault that you made me to take control of the body and made me look like I destroyed the loo that night!” Marc just made a face at Steven, “you’re still not over that incident!?!? How many fucking times I have to tell you that I’m sorry?!” “AY WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?! I AM TRYING TO SLEEP HERE IN THE HEADSPACE” Jake shouted he was exhausted from all the people he had to cabie drive around London last night for some high schoolers homecoming dance or something before letting going to do some Moonknight shit. Isaac meanwhile tries grabbing the Star of David around his dad(s) neck while continuing to bounce around in his high chair cooing, “well marc if you don’t like it then you don’t have to be co fronting for today” Steven said putting his foot down and points at his reflection accusingly when taking Isaac out of his high chair and getting him dress in a onesie for the cold autumn month ahead of them in England “ I’m just saying I don’t think it’s wise to take Isaac there okay” Marc looks at his son through the reflection of the fish tank tank “I just want to keep him safe” “we all do Marc…” Steven said reassuring him reminded him that the death of Randell wasn’t his fault. A small coo drought them back to reality as Isaac get put in the stroller while he kicks his tiny little legs up in the air in excitement “all right,all right lad we’re going on a trip are you excited” Steven said gleefully as he booped isaac’s little nose as they head out of the flat and heading to the museum. Dispite having a Jewish background, Steven can’t help but admire the big Christmas tree and decor in the lobby of the museum as he smiles at Isaac who apparently is taking a little nappy in the stroller he was pushing towards the Egyptian exhibit while he takes out a tiny straw cover out of the miniature pyramid of Giza and starts talking to Isaac telling him all about the history of Egypt about their gods /goddesses and its culture. “You see Isaac the Egyptian believed you needed your heart to be judged in the underworld. Only the worthiest would be able to pass through Filed of Reeds , believe it or not i and Marc were there for a bit when we-“ suddenly the rudest woman voice interrupted him “Oy , Stevie is that you you lout?” Steven goes pale and turns to see Donna, he’s ex boss that he and Marc thought that she might be fire due to a lack of empathy or emotion , not to mention Jake wanted to scare her or curse at her back when Steven was working for her. “Hello Donna” he kindly greeted her while trying to avoid her annoying gum chew which steven swears that she’s gonna blow up a bubble and pop it to scare him and wake up Isaac from his stroller nap “ and it’s Steven with a v Donna” Donna who is odlivous to see the baby stares at him with disgusted expression while holding a box of what looks like a Anubis plushie wearing a mini Santa hats on them while putting them down on the gift shop area “if this about rehiring you just to be a bloody tour guide then no your not gonna happen you dult” she’s said to him hurting Steven’s feelings like when he worked in the museum gift shop

“ well actually Donna that’s not the case here . I’m-“ he gets cut off by Donna again while Steven knows that Marc and Jake are trying to hold it together not to take control of the body and slap Donna hard in the face or for Jake see her choke on her own chewing gum as karma “then what is it then? You auditioning for a tour guide again?” She asked “because you aren’t ever going to be one” Steven frown deepened his also heard Isaac starting to stir awake from his mini nappy “well, That’s actually more crushing to hear now because I’m actually here with my baby son.” He replied with a fake smile while trying to sue pressed Marc or even take control over the body as his son rubbed his eyes and looking at them.

Donna looks at the newly awaken baby with a scoff a sign that she didn’t believe him “you’re joking right? Stevie Grant , a 30 year old virgin somehow managed to impregnated a gal and decided to raise the babe?” She remarked as Steven wince “well actually we-i mean uh…“ Donna cut him off again “so who is that lass that made a baby with without knowing they’ve unintentionally made a mistake making you this lad a Mistake …how are you even paying bloody child support when you don’t have a job? ” After hearing that Steven heart broken at that question …he doesn’t know why jake doesn’t tell them who the mother of their son is or why she decided to leave him in the care of them as Isaac started to babble as he was trying to say something to defend his dad(s) from Donna verbal abuse but he fail and starts to cry slowly, “Donna please you making the little lad cry” he started ‘or maybe he’s hungry or need a diaper change?’ Steven thought “besides I already paid half of the amount to fix the loo damages and which by away still wasn’t me” but as usual Donna doesn’t listen and start to berate Steven and at which point calls , little do they know Marc was watching through the glass reflection on a glass coffin clearly getting piss off at Donna and the fact Isaac isn’t liking the situation that Steven is in “damnit” Marc muttered and feeling like he has enough and he decided on what to do.…as Steven was about feel like he was about to have a panic attack, Marc Spector finally gain control of his own body and give Donna a cold expression “I suggest you stop there Donna” Marc said making Donna startled almost choking on her obnoxious gum chewing at Steven’s sudden American accent that just came out. “Excuse me-“ started but gets cut off by Marc “now listen here you woman, you may act like you own this fucking place and treat Steven like he worthless but he is not! I know people like you Donna Gertrude Oswald , people who don’t know that they are treating people with limitations poorly weather it is a sleep condition or someone going through.” He was anger “and don’t you ever call my son a mistake! I don’t have the answer why or who his mother is but no matter what the reason, That baby is my son and you Donna should have been fire from all the things you said and did to me and other coworkers in this museum, so I’m just gonna give you a warning …if you ever, ever do mistreat anyone like this again, I will not hesitate to give a call to HR about how you been abusing your job title” and with that Marc grab the stroller and starts walking the other direction switching back to a baffled Steven unware some guests filmed the whole encounter .

“You really didn’t have to do that Marc” Steven responded after calming down Isaac while sitting on a bench in the exhibit feed him his bottle and looking at the reflection in front of him “but I did and I was pissed at what she said about Isaac” Marc defended himself looking down, but instead of a mini speech from Steven but what he heard was something unexpected “thanks mate, I too didn’t like what she said about Isaac being a mistake” Steven told him “ though what you said will probably not change Donna behavior though it but you defending speech was amazing Marc.” That made Marc happy and Isaac coos reaching for a piece of the exhibit which was a mini figurine of Khonsu depiction in Hieroglyphs but give a hiccup when Isaac gets put back into the stroller and sucks on his pacifier.

After that Steven continues his explaining the stories and history to Isaac and goes to head home when it’s starting to give Isaac a bath and give a call to get him a babysitter for tomorrow night, When Steven check his socials, he froze when he saw a viral video of him (well marc) giving Donna a taste of her own medicine while the caption read “Karen gets exposed and puts in her place”.

tags: @guruan,@forwantofwill,@melodygatesauthor @ominoose

Distinct but connected- comparing and contrasting Hebitians and Cardassians

One of my goals when writing Hebitians and Cardassians is I wanted them to be cultures with a long, not necessarily violent history prior to colonization under the Cardassian Union, with some level of exchange/relatedness, but also distinct, because I feel it's a dynamic people don't acknowledge as much.

Starting from their environment, Cardassians started as a polytheistic* pastoral community on the southwest of the equatorial contenient on Cardassia Prime, mostly in the desert directly south of the Valley of the Hebitians and the mountains further south of that. Over time, most Cardassians settled in the mountains and subsequently diverged, culturally, from those who retained pastoral life. Pastoral and settled Cardassians maintained necessary trade and kin relations long after, and pastoralism is still common in animal based Cardassian agriculture. The class system that brought the idea of the service class developed after mountain settlement, and the pastoral community is essentially outside of it (a status marked by their family seals having a circle border, instead of the polygonal borders used to designate class). The legal and social status of pastoral Cardassians is complex; other forms of iternancy are restricted, and in some ways the relationship between settled and pastoral Cardassians has degraded. Kin relationships aren't maintained, and the broader social perception often treats pastoralists as a museum exhibit. Additionally, pastoral communities, though they're outside the Cardassian class system, run the spectrum of wealth and severe poverty.

Hebitians, contrastingly, are majority a settled agricultural population** and began that way. It's currently thought Hebitian culture started in the northwest of the Equatorial contenient, either in the Valley of the Hebitians, the delta north of it, or in the Makhå (/ˈmaχɑ/) floodplain to its east. Archeological evidence is limited due to the Cardassian Union being happy to sell artifacts but not to allow drawn out digs from outside academics, and the Occupation signaling a shift where the Union refuses to recognize Hebitians still exist. Exceptions to this are the Thav and Åv, who live in the rather dry Helta Highlands, and a subsect of the Qåmtsu, who lived along the river and Ikhå /ɵχɑ/ delta in house boats. The Thav traditionally were largely fishermen and hunters; their primary contact as an fairly isolated population was the pearl trade. The Åv typically formed middlemen in that trade and engaged in mining and pastoralism.

Hebitians and Cardassians use writing systems derived from the same older writing system, which was originally suited for carving into wood, bone, or stone. The Cardassian version diverged first with the poetic script (which is written with a brush and has a lot of thickness variation), which the computer version seen in the show is based on as a pixel friendly format. A simpler merchant script is also used in school, diaries, and so on, and has little variation in line thickness. The Hebitians have a primary script that's traditionally written with a reed pen, and an older script that's largely fallen out of use that has both logograms and alphabetic elements.

Hebitian and Cardassian gender norms both associate women with metal (in dress and in industry) and being cool headed, while men tend to be seen as emotional/aggressive. Hebitians viewed this work not as "What is suited for women" so much as "men are unsuitable for this", whereas the former sentiment has more weight in Cardassian culture, though the latter also applies, making it so Cardassian women often work in STEM, history, and other jobs with a high importance on being "unbiased". For Hebitians, this has led to a level of favoritism towards women in leadership positions, though not a matriarchy (except for perhaps in the Thav culture).

Both place a high value on large families. However, adoption only has a stigma in Hebitian culture insofar as post-Union social influences, and even then, a citizen of the Union with a Hebitian background is more likely to adopt children. The taboo on adoption for Cardassians is philosophical and religious in nature and stems from how the soul and sin are conceptualized as being related to knowledge. Neither has a nuclear family structure as the norm, but Cardassians solidify family through blood ties more than Hebitians, whose families traditionally are more "unstructured" and built on informal association and blood (the difference being reflected in language as well, with Kardasi having a more specific family vocabulary). These differences in family building and importance of children have led to an "inside/outside" work distinction for female and male Cardassians, respectively. Both also recognize those as who help infants with thermoregulation as part of that infants kin, even if they aren't blood relations.

Both Hebitians and Cardassians have long standing xenophobic cultural tendencies. For Hebitians this reflects their history as a once very powerful family of cultures that controlled around a third of the equatorial contenient and which were known as hard opponents in war, the cultural shift during a long semi-voluntary peacetime and focus on internal politics, and conquest by the Cardassian Union. All three of these eras have had fluctuating cultural attitudes towards outsiders, and different strains of logic behind distrust and fear. For Cardassians today, the xenophobic tendency is tied to the militaristic elements of Cardassian nationalism, especially in their wars with the Klingon Empire and the Federation, and soills over to even affect old trading partners (such as the Ferengi; the word the Federation uses for them comes from Kardasi). The cultural supremacist ideology also has a strong impact. However, it does not come from unfamiliarity in either case. Even when many Hebitian states were isolationist, there were other cultures within them. And in the Cardassian Union (setting aside that Cardassians-as-a-species have many cultures), many planets in the Union had prior occupants that were absorbed into it; the Bajoran system was hardly an anomaly. Even those that were unoccupied possess non-Cardassian residents; people of other species have immigrated to the Union, have loved those from the Union***, and etc.

* Not much is known about older Cardassian religion, not even when mythic figures fell out of worship in favor of deification of the state current in Cardassian civil religion. It's assumed the belief in fate and interest in astrology comes from there, as well as the customs around burial and ancestral veneration. Hebitians make reference to Cardassian religious practices, but these are limited. For example, Hebitians do not use the proper names of Cardassian gods in historical documents- depending on who you ask, this is either because Orallists do not like using the names of foreign gods, or that it was Cardassian custom for others not to use their gods proper names as a matter of respect. Either way, this led to Hebitian documents largely using epithets (such as "lady of mount such and such") to refer to Cardassian gods. It's known the head of the pantheon was a married pair of gods, and that mountains were often deified.

** settled and agricultural does not always mean fields or monocultures. Many Hebitians practice what's called "integrated agriculture", sometimes to the exclusion of fields use such as in the Makhå (/ˈmaχɑ/) floodplain. Integrated agriculture ranges from the creation of environments similar to food forests to the planting and growing of crops integrated into city or even building infrastructure- the latter is where the name derives from.

*** culturally based marriage restrictions in the Union are defined by free and subjugated peoples. Prior to Kardasianization, a Hebitian and a Cardassian being enjoined would be impossible within the Union because Hebitians were classified as a subjugated people, as were Bajorans during the Occupation. A Vulcan and a Cardassian however, would have few legal issues as they are both classified as free people.

Transitions- Chapter Two: Tea With The Neighbor

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Pairings: Steven Grant x (platonic) Reader, Marc Spector x (platonic) Reader, Jake Lockley x (platonic) Reader, Layla El-Faouly x (platonic) Reader

---

Whenever you were bored being cooped up in your flat, your mind wandered. You tried to stay away from reflecting on the past, on your old life and your dead parents, so you usually focused on thoughts of work and how to make extra cash without it being too sketchy. But, ever since the incident in the elevator with your neighbor, you got invested in the life of your odd neighbor. You imagined that he was a drug addict, and the familiarity of the D.A.R.E campaigns and the whole assemblies your high-school had for anti-drug use showed that these people had terrible lives and would do anything to get the drugs. So, with that background, you imagined that your strange neighbor lived in squalor. 

You thought that his apartment would be severely neglected and trashed, maybe infested with cockroaches. So, when your neighbor opened the door to his flat, you were a bit surprised when you saw the apartment wasn't exactly what you imagined it to be. It was messy, but it was an organized mess. Stacks of Egyptology books and notes were strewn across any surface that wasn't the floor. The dining table was cluttered on one end with more books and papers, a single spot was open for seating. In the center of the room was a huge fish tank, the bright illuminance caught your attention, a small orange fish swam in the center of the tank. Your neighbor held the door open for you as you entered his flat, and he shut it behind you. You walked the short distance to the tank and saw a single goldfish with two fins. 

“That’s Gus the Second,” your neighbor says in a British accent. You glance over your shoulder towards him, he was taking off his gray jacket and hanging it up on a hook near the door. Before he strode in your direction and stopped next to you, the two of you stared at the goldfish for a moment in silence before you ask, “What happened to the first?” 

“Went to the Field of Reeds I suppose,” he shrugs. 

“What?” 

“It's like heaven or hell or whatever. The afterlife of eternal peace.”

“Oh,” was all you said. You didn’t know much about your neighbor but he didn't strike you as a religious man. You walk towards the stacks of books on the table and bend down a bit to read the titles on the spine of the book. All of them were about Egyptian culture and history. The papers scattered across the surface of the table had neat handwriting. Briefly, your eyes scanned a page of notes about the god named Anubis. The god of death, on the right side of the page there was a well drawn sketch of the god, its head was of a dog and the rest of the body looked human. 

“You’re a historian?” you ask. Your neighbor crossed the room and looked down at the papers cluttered on his table.

“No, I just had an interest in the Egyptian gods,” he says, “I used to work in the gift shop at the museum downtown, but I got fired for breaking the toilets.” 

“You just had a bad trip?” 

“What?”

“I thought you were a drug addict but there's no sign of drug use. Did you just have a bad trip and break the toilets?” You ask, your neighbor stares at you in near disbelief before shaking his head. 

“You thought I did drugs?”

“Well, yeah. You were screaming your head off in the elevator a couple weeks ago.” You say, you place your hand on your hip as you wait for him to respond. He stares at you and you don't break eye contact. You add, “You also disappeared for a while, I saw you get carried out of your apartment in handcuffs. Did you go to rehab or something because I haven't seen you since.”

“Bloody hell,” he mumbles and lets out a disbelieving laugh. “The whole building must think I’m mental.” You shrug.

“You’d fit right at home in America.” You say as you squint at him, noticing for the first time today that he had a tan. He laughs at your statement, his hands clutching his head in embarrassment. You turn your head to your left and let your eyes wander his apartment before you felt satisfied enough that this wasn't a place that an addict lived. 

“I’ll make us some tea,” he says before walking to the small kitchen nook and turning on the sink faucet. He runs his hands underneath the water for a minute before scrubbing his face with his hands. You assumed he was washing the blood off of him before he was going to make some tea to help settle both of your nerves. 

“Feel free to take a seat.” He adds, you shrug off your jacket and place it on the back of the chair before sitting down. You cross your legs as you watch him snatch the kettle off of the stove top and fill it with water from the sink faucet before placing it back onto the stove. He reaches into his cupboard and pulls out a box of tea bags and places it down onto the counter. He then leans against the counter, crossing his arms and looks at you. You both stare at each other, this time his stares feel like he's observing you rather than thinking of what to say to fill the silence. 

For a moment, you thought that you insulted him with your questions and he's trying to not be too upset with it but as soon as the question began to form in your mind, he asked with an American accent this time, “Do you feel better?” You did feel better, you felt more like yourself then you did during your mugging, your hand still kind of stings though. You glance down at your fist and notice some bruises forming on your knuckles. 

“I do,” you say and trail your gaze back to him, the question was on the tip of your tongue but you had a more important thought form in your mind. Was the mugger dead? You didn't see him breathing but that was because your neighbor blocked your view. 

 “Did you kill him?” You ask quietly. Your heart pounded against your chest as you waited for his answer.

“No, just knocked him out.” He says, you hum. You suppose he wouldn't have confirmed that he killed the guy because that would make him a murderer and he wouldn’t want to make you more upset. You don’t want to be associated with a murderer, the police would arrest you and they might look more into the life you created. They might realize that you are a teenager from America with dead parents. Everything that you built for yourself over the past year would be all for nothing. 

“I’m sorry if I insulted you with my questions,” you say. He blinks and nods slowly. 

“All is forgiven,” he simply says. You wait a moment to see if he will add anything but nothing comes out of his mouth. You both silently wait for the other to speak. The silence didn't feel uncomfortable but you definitely felt a bit tense. You were sitting in your strange neighbors apartment, who happened to be at the right place and the right time to save you from the mugger, and who you never spoke to up until fifteen minutes ago. Your parents taught you to never go into strangers' homes or cars and yet here you were going against exactly that. Did you have a death wish or did you just not care anymore?

“What’s your name, kid?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You tell him your name and he introduces himself as Marc. It would have been nice to meet Marc underneath any other circumstance but unfortunately you didn’t have the opportunity for that. The kettle began to scream from the water being boiled and Marc turned his attention to that. He pours the liquid into two mugs and places one tea bag into each cup before carrying them to the table. 

“I don’t know how you like your tea,” he says with a British accent this time. His posture was slightly slouched and he looked more anxious than he was moments ago. You smile in thanks. You weren’t much of a tea drinker but you were raised to be respectful and kind to people who offered food that you didn't care for. Don’t be picky, your parents told you. Marc pushes some papers and books to the side, clearing a spot for him to sit down. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments as you blew on your mug to help it cool down faster. The silence seemed to stretch on as you played with the string of the tea bag. You wrapped it around your index finger as questions about Marc flooded your mind. 

Finally, after some brief hesitation you ask, “What's with the accent change?” He looked a little surprised at the question, his brown eyes were wide as he glanced from his drink to you. Your cheeks flushed as you rethought back to how you phrased the question, it did sound a bit rude didn’t it? 

“I’m sorry if I sounded rude,” you say, a sheepish smile beginning to spread across your face. “It’s just that I noticed that you speak with an American accent and a British one and I just was wondering why.” He sipped his tea which has steam still rising from it. You watched him quietly as his eyes went to the fishtank and he stared at it for a few moments. 

“I know that, Marc.” He says, you blink as he begins to have a conversation with himself. “Well, someone was bound to find out about it sooner or later.” 

Maybe you were right about the drugs, maybe he was using and this was the beginning of one of the drug trips. Your eyes shifted to the steaming tea that you have yet to drink. Did he put something in your drink while you were too busy with your own thoughts to notice? Your parents warned you not to take anything from strangers and yet, you accepted a cup of tea. His sigh and movement of him pinching his nose in your peripheral vision caught your attention. 

“I’m Steven Grant,” He says, he lifted his hand as a handshake and you hesitantly took it. His grip was loose and awkward, you thought that he would have a firmer handshake by the way that he carried himself but you were wrong. He lets go of your hand and shoots you a comforting smile, but you didn’t feel very comforted by it. You felt a bit anxious actually. 

“Not many people know this- just our wife, well ex-wife- I didn’t know I was married honestly,” He begins to ramble and you shift in your seat, your mind racing with excuses to tell him to get the hell out of his apartment. His face falters as he glares at the fish tank once more, was he glaring at the fish?

“I’m getting to it,” He says to the tank before taking a deep breath and continuing, “We have dissociative identity disorder and if you don’t mind we would like you to keep quiet about it. Y’know so, the whole bloody building doesn’t think we’re mental.” He looked nervous as he finished his statement. You knew a little about the disorder, mainly from YouTube recommendations of psychological disorders, but you were a bit educated on it. Honestly, this made a hell of a lot more sense about your strange neighbor and it comforted you a bit to have this knowledge about them. It made you feel a bit more comfortable knowing they weren’t under the influence of drugs. 

“Okay,” you say. He looked surprised at your calmness. You add, “I’m not going to tell anyone because it’s not my business to tell and besides I don’t have many friends. So, your secret is safe with me.” Steven looked a bit relieved and he let out a laugh. You ask, “So, when you talk to the fish tank you’re talking to Marc?” 

“Yeah, but it’s a reflective surface, really. Mirrors, hub caps, forks…” Steven trails off and you hum in response. He looks back to the tank and frowns, “Marc says that you look pretty young.”

“I should be flattered that you think I look younger than I actually am,” You joke. You felt way less anxious than you were moments ago. The switch between Steven and Marc was subtle. First the obvious was the accents, you were slowly realizing that Marc spoke with an American accent and Steven spoke in a British one. The second was the posture, Steven sat in a slouched position while Marc had a more straightened spine. And the third, was the expressions they wore on their face. Marc seemed more hardened while Steven was soft and kind of relaxed. Those were just three new things you noticed about your neighbor, you were nosey after all. 

"How old are you?" Marc asks, you unraveled the tea bag string from your finger and wrapped your hands around the mug instead. The metallic taste from biting your cheek earlier was still in your mouth and it didn’t taste pleasant. Marc and Steven trusted you enough to tell you their secret and they did beat up your mugger and saved you from anything else that could have happened. Maybe, you should return that trust and tell them your own secret. It would probably be smart to make sure someone else knew that you were a teenager anyways. 

"Papers say I'm eighteen." You say without looking at him. In your perhevial, you see him give you a hard look. You lift the cup to your lips and take a sip of the tea. It tasted like lemon and raspberries even with it stinging your tongue from the heat. You add, "I'm sixteen, turning seventeen this year." 

"Jesus, kid." Marc rubs his palm down his face. He was surprised that you were able to get away with acting like an adult for this long. He asks, "You've been living here for about six months, right?” You were a bit surprised that he noticed your existence over the last half of the year, you don’t think you told them about how long you’ve moved to London. 

"A year," You correct him and he rubs his face with his hand. "You just moved in about six months ago." It was his turn to show his surprise. 

“You’ve been keeping tabs on us, kid?” 

“There’s not much else to do. Besides, I only ever really began when you or Steven was screaming bloody murder at something I couldn’t see.” You admit sheepishly. You wanted to ask him about it but it felt like the wrong time to do so, maybe later. 

“You went through a lot of effort of forging documents and flying across the Atlantic sea to live in London,” Marc points out, “Why go through all that effort? What are you running from?”

"Who said I'm running?" 

“No teen goes through changing their birth date and flies over sea just to live in London.” 

“I’m not running from the law or anything,” You say. He gives you a skeptical look and you roll your eyes at it. What gives him the right to question you? He was a sketchy person, he definitely had something to hide. You feel yourself getting defensive the longer he stares at you as if you were some puzzle he was trying to solve. 

“I noticed that you were screaming your head off at something I couldn’t see, that same night you were out late and came back around two in the morning just to disappear for a week and come back here with a tan and sand outside your door.” You say, letting go of the mug and crossing your arms instead. His expression doesn’t change and for a moment you felt a little regretful of being defensive towards the man who saved you. But, you had to keep in mind that he was a stranger nonetheless. He had no right being in your business just like you had no right being in his. 

“Where are your parents?” Steven asks, the wrinkles on his forehead were smoothed out and his features were more relaxed. He gives you a smile and adds, “You’re a kid who just went through something traumatic and we just want to know that you’re going to be okay.” His eyes were soft and you felt a little guilty about what you said but you still felt like you were in the right. 

“I will be,” You say. He pursed his lips but didn't push you for any more information and you were glad about it. He slouches a bit as he takes a sip of his tea and gestures to your cup. 

“Is it good?” He asks. You pick up your mug and take a drink of the liquid, it was cool enough that it didn't burn your tongue.

“It does,” you say after swallowing, “Thank you, Steven.” The two of you sat in silence, neither of you quite knowing what to say. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noticed that the time was nearing a quarter after nine, your time spent in your neighbors apartment was coming to an end. Soon, you’d be back in your apartment and your plan for dinner was to eat peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon since your groceries were ruined and lying next to the unconscious man in the alley. You swallow the rest of your drink and stand up from your chair, the wood scraping on the floor as your legs push it back. Steven stood up with you, immediately towering over you due to his height. He looked like he was struggling to come up with something to say so you beat him to it. 

“Thank you Steven and Marc for making sure I’m okay,” You say, the words fell out of your mouth awkwardly as you grabbed your coat from the back of the chair. You looked at the man as you hugged your coat to your chest, “I will see you around, I guess.” You walk towards the door and Steven calls your name which makes you pause in your steps and turn towards him. 

“Shut it, Marc,” Steven says before directing a kind look in your direction, “Feel free to visit anytime you’d like, yeah?” You nod slowly and thank him once again before exiting his apartment and walking down the hall to your own flat. The lights in the hallway were flickering, this time you noticed it was a bit more aggressive. Was there a storm brewing and it was going to cause a power outage? You wondered as your keys unlocked your door and you pushed it open to an empty home. 

Moonlight filtered through the window, it was a cloudless night, there wasn't a sign for a storm in sight. You have yet to buy proper curtains, instead you bought blankets from the thrift store and tacked it to the wall as makeshift curtains. You flicked on the light and shut the door behind you, making sure it was bolted shut before you tossed your jacket onto the kitchen counter. Grabbing a spoon on top of the drying towel on the counter and opening the cabinet, you grabbed the jar of peanut butter before hopping onto the counter and unscrewing the lid. Your spoon dug into the creamy food before you began to eat it. 

The lights were flickering in your apartment, and if it wasn’t for seeing them flicker in the hallway you would have thought that you forgot to pay your electricity bill. You were on your third spoonful when your mind began to wander over the events of today. You were lucky that your neighbor saved you and nothing else happened to you. Even though some stuff about your neighbor made sense, you were still caught onto the incident in the elevator a couple weeks ago. What was Steven and Marc screaming at? Where did they go for the last week, somewhere obviously with sun and sand, and London doesn't offer much of the first one. 

You struggled to swallow your dinner as it stuck to the roof of your mouth, it was just your luck that the power went out at that moment. Slowly, your eyes adjust to the darkness as you finally get the last of the peanut butter down your throat. Setting your spoon into the sink next to you, you hop off the counter. You needed a flashlight, lucky for you your phone has one and you knew it was in your jacket pocket. You patted the space next to you for your jacket, your fingers brushed against the jean fabric before you pulled it towards you and began to feel around for the pockets. The moonlight helped your search a little, you carefully walked closer to the window on the living room side of your apartment so the light from outside would be more helpful. You were still patting the fabric of your jacket when movement caught your eye, you paused and looked up towards the opposite side of the room where the door to the hallway was. 

Something was standing there that shouldn't be there. You had nothing over by the door that could be making that figure. You weren’t sure what you were seeing, but with little moonlight flooding into your flat you could see that it was tall, its head nearly brushed against your ceiling. The shoulders of it were wide and it was holding onto something with a crescent shape at the top of it. You knew nothing could be there, that it was just your eyes tricking you into believing something was there. The mind was a dick that way, but still your heart skipped a beat as you stared at whatever was there. The pit in your stomach tightened and your hands began to shake from fear. 

Slowly, as if it would notice you if you were to move any quicker, your hand patted your jacket until you found your phone. Your fingers wrapped around the cold device and you carefully pulled it out. Just as soon as the lock screen of your phone lit up with the picture of your parents, the lights flickered back to life and your eyes shot to where you saw the figure. Your heart was still pounding against your chest as you took in the room you stood in. Nothing was there. Your mind was just playing tricks on you into believing something was there, you reassured yourself. Your hand clenched tightly around your phone as your chest rose and fell with every breath you took. You just had a bored and over active imagination, you’re safe, nothing is there. 

But despite the self-reassurances and triple checking your flat for any location that someone or something could be hiding in; and making sure the door was bolted shut four times that night. You laid wide awake on your couch, so sure that something was in your apartment with you.

Meet Vittoria Assad (Cookie Run Sugar Linkage Self Insert)

(A gift for @sam-rexian)

Y/N, a local of Bakerton, is visiting the Natural History museum on a hot sunny day. But not just that- the museum has gotten a new exhibit dedicated to the magical and mysterious culture that is Ancient Egypt. “I think it’s time to head inside.” Y/N replies as they finish up their breakfast and enter the museum, ticket in hand.

As Y/N enters the gorgeous building, they see various citizens of Bakerton looking at exhibits. Y/N then hands over their ticket to the receptionist, and as they enter the museum… they’re jumpscared by a little girl who appears to be in elementary school- wearing what appears to be toilet paper to replicate bandages. “Hahaha! You have awoken the so-called Mummy Queen!” She begins, laughing evilly before going back to her normal demeanor and adjusting her baseball cap. “I’m kidding! Come inside!” She says, taking a picture of what appears to be an unearthed sarcophagus.

“You must really love Egyptian culture, right?” Y/N asks the little girl, who places her phone back in her pocket. “Yeah! My dad’s side of the family comes from the Middle East, which is close to Egypt. More specifically, Turkey. And my first name, Vittoria, is of Italian descent- aka my mom’s side of the family.” She explains, but not before Y/N stops and gazes at a gorgeous amulet beneath a glass case, her “bandages” now taken off.

“Apparently, the super important guys used these to protect their vessel when they crossed over into the afterlife.” Vittoria explains to Y/N. “Hey, Vittoria. What is this?” The latter asks as they point to a diagram that shows someone getting… bandaged? “That is the mummification process. They used special techniques to prepare the body for the journey to the field of reeds. Isn’t it wild? It helped make sure the body was preserved and prepared for the trials ahead of them after death.” She informs.

Suddenly, a voice comes from a nearby display case. “Ooooooo…!” It replies, as if beckoning Y/N and Vittoria over to the display. “What was that?! Is the pharaoh’s curse real?!” Y/N, in a panicked state, exclaims as they look around. “It’s not the curse. I think you’ve found my little buddy!” Vittoria replies as she whistles. The moment she whistles, a small figurine- about the size of an amulet or so, peeks out and hops into the girl’s hands. “Hello!” She says.

“Fettie, I see you’ve met Y/N!” Vittoria says as she places her tiny cookie friend on her shoulder. “Wait. Who’s Fettuccine? I’ve never heard of anyone called that!” Y/N says as they approach Vittoria. “This is Fettuccine! I like to call her Fettie for short. Isn’t she adorable? She’s like this mummy cookie! I met her while I was in my dad’s archaeology study.” She explains further. “Hey, Fettuccine.” Y/N replies in a friendly tone. The two then go off to explore the museum, with Y/N not realizing they’re going on an adventure they never expected…

The End

Neck Ornament / India | Tamlu / Reed (plant) | Glass | Metal | Shell

Penn Museum

Miri Culture

Happy Belated Birthday to Katsushika Hokusai who was born on October 21st in 1760.

Genroku kasen kai-awase: Ashigai Translated Title: Shell-Matching Game with Genroku Poets: Cranes on the Seashore/The Reed Shell Katsushika Hokusai, 1760-1849, Japanese [artist] Date: datable to 1821. Woodcut on paper (color) Dimensions: 19.2 x 17.6 cm. (paper) Culture: Japanese Repository : Harvard Art Museums, Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States HOLLIS Number: olvwork375498

doll; figure

Cultures/periods: Chancay

Production date: 900-1430

Made in: Peru

Provenience unknown, possibly looted

Doll; reed framework with textile covering; face: slit tapestry; camelid weft (white is cotton); headband is cross knit loop stitch; separate tunic is camelid fibre; twined; hands and feet are wrapped camelid fibre; figure holds distaff and child; small spindle whorl attached. Pink, grey, brown and white.

British Museum

In 1941, Stanislaw Poniatowski, Professor of Ethnology at the University of Warsaw, handed a small stone to an elderly Pole. For twenty minutes, Stefan Ossowiecki felt the object, rolling it over and clasping it in his hand, then he spoke:

I see very well, it is part of a spear … I see round houses, wooden, covered with grey clay, over walls of animal hide … People with black hair, enormous feet, large hands, low foreheads, eyes deeply set …

He went on for an hour, giving a detailed view of the daily life, dress, appearance and behaviour of a Palaeolithic people; including an account of their ritual use of red ochre and lime as cosmetics, and a description of a cremation ceremony. All of which was totally appropriate for a projectile point identified by the Warsaw Museum as belonging to the fifteen-thousand-year-old Magdalenian culture.

Ossowiecki was murdered by the Gestapo in 1944, but he was tested further during the war years with another thirty-two assorted objects from the Museum – including stone tools, bone fishhooks and ceramic figurines. And in each case he provided vivid panoramic descriptions that read like eye-witness accounts of communities and technologies ranging from half-a-million-year-old Acheulian times, through Mousterian, Aurignacian and Neanderthal cultures, to the present day. These accounts were stimulated by objects that only experts could be sure to recognise, and were supported by further complementary detail when the same object was given to him again at a later date. Despite the fact that Ossowiecki was a chemical engineer with no conscious interest in prehistoric archaeology, his descriptions are not only consistent with what was then known about the cultures in question, but sometimes included information that has only come to light as a result of discoveries made since he died.

[...]

Norman Emerson, Professor of Archaeology at the University of Toronto, regularly uses what he calls “intuitive archaeology” on field expeditions. He has discovered a truck driver called George McMullen, who has no formal education and never reads anthropological literature, but seems to be able to “read” artefacts in the same way as Stefan Ossowiecki – providing information on the Iroquois Indians, which Emerson knows to be accurate. Taken to a potential site, McMullen “almost quivers and comes alive like a sensitive bird dog scenting his prey”. He walks rapidly over the area to orient himself and then begins to describe the people who lived there – their age, their dress, their way of life and the whereabouts of their buildings. He once walked over a patch of bare ground, pacing out the perimeter of what he claimed was an Iroquois long house, while Emerson followed behind him placing survey pegs in the earth. Six weeks later, the entire structure was excavated exactly where McMullen said it would be.

On another occasion, he helped archaeologist Patrick Reed who was working on a tenth-century Indian village buried beneath an overgrown field. Reed was sceptical about the claims of “psychic archaeology” and determined to put McMullen to a stern test:

I thought I’d ask him where the stockade wall of the village had been. I was pretty sure it had one, but I hadn’t been able to find it. George told me, “It’s there”, and traced out a line forty feet long. Twelve inches under the ground, I found the stockade remains. It scared the hell out of me.

--  Lyall Watson, Beyond Supernature

Tokyo Arts and Space Annual Report 2022

トーキョーアーツアンドスペース アニュアル 2022

編集　杉本勝彦、トーキョーアーツアンドスペース(市川亜木子、関 朝子、武智あさぎ)

インタビュー　内田伸一 翻訳　ロバート・リード(プロフィールを除く)、トーキョーアーツアンドスペース

インタビュー撮影　トヤマタクロウ

撮影　大野隆介、加藤 健、佐藤 基、髙橋健治、トヤマタクロウ、中川 周、丸尾隆一、 トーキョーアーツアンドスペース

デザイン　加瀬 透、本田千尋 印刷　株式会社シナノパブリッシングプレス 発行　公益財団法人東京都歴史文化財団東京都現代美術館　トーキョーアーツアンドスペース事業課　東京都江東区三好4-1-1

発行日　2023年6 月16日

非売品・転売禁止

Tokyo Arts and Space Annual Report 2022

Editors　SUGIMOTO Katsuhiko, Tokyo Arts and Space (ICHIKAWA Akiko, SEKI Asako, TAKECHI Asagi)

Interviewer　UCHIDA Shinichi

Translation　Robert REED (except artist profiles), Tokyo Arts and Space

Interview Photos　TOYAMA Takuroh

Photos　KATO Ken, MARUO Ryuichi, OHNO Ryusuke, SATO Motoi, TAKAHASHI Kenji, TOYAMA Takuroh, NAKAGAWA Shu, Tokyo Arts and Space

Design　KASE Toru, HONDA Chihiro

Printing　SHINANO PUBLISHING PRESS CO., LTD

Published by Tokyo Arts and Space, Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo, Tokyo Metropolitan Foundation for History and Culture 4-1-1 Miyoshi, Koto-ku, Tokyo Publication Date: June 16, 2023

The sale or resale of this publication is strictly prohibited.

©2023 Tokyo Arts and Space, Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo, Tokyo Metropolitan Foundation for History and Culture

お問い合わせ|Inquiries

URL www.tokyoartsandspace.jp/ Facebook Tokyo Arts and Space Twitter [日本語] @tokas_ jp [English] @tokas_en

International Country Music Day

Country music is one of the most popular types of music in the world and this special type of music originated in the USA. International Country Music Day was established in the 1950s and is held each year on September 17th. On this special day, country music festivals are held at various venues around the world. Lovers of country music gather to listen to live music acts while drinking and dancing. Line dancing is popular during International Country Music Day and competitions are often held to determine the best dancers.

Learn about International Country Music Day

International Country Music Day is a day that has been designed so that we can pay tribute to some of the world’s best country artists. Whether you are a huge fan of the genre or not, you are encouraged to listen to some country music on this date. You could even break out the fiddle or banjo and get involved yourself.

Country music, which can sometimes be referred to as country and western, is a form of music that has been popular for many years now. Its roots come from old-time music and blues, as well as a number of different types of American folk music. This includes Tejano, Texas country, New Mexico country, Red Dirt country, Cajun, and Appalachian. Country music tends to consist of both dance tunes and ballads, which have harmonies, folk lyrics, and simple forms.

History of International Country Music Day

International Country Music Day has been going strong since 2003. It was created as a day so that fans of country music and country music artists were brought together. The date was chosen because it is also the birthday of Hank Williams, who is one of the most famous and influential country music artists.

Hank Williams was born on the 17th of September in 1923, and he died 29 years later. He is deemed one of the most influential and significant American songwriters and singers of the 20th century. Although he was taken from the world too soon, his impact was undeniable. He recorded 35 singles, with all of them reaching the top ten in the Billboard Country & Western Best Sellers chart. In fact, 11 of them hit the top spot. Many people deem him the King of Country Music. So, what better way to celebrate International Country Music Day than to listen to some of his most songs? This includes the likes of Your Cheatin’ Heart, Hey, Good Looking, Why Don’t You Love Me, and Lovesick Blues.

How to celebrate International Country Music Day

This is a vibrant event that can be enjoyed by people of all ages. In order to fully embrace the fun of International Country Music Day, it is important to look the part. Dress to impress in a pair of jeans or denim skirt teamed with a gingham shirt and, of course, a pair of cowboy boots and a cowboy hat to complete the look.

If you are not a massive fan of country music, International Country Music Day is the perfect opportunity for you to find out more about this genre of music. There are some truly incredible country artists, and with YouTube and music listening apps available today, it is easier than ever before to listen to some of their creations. Some of the best artists to start your country music listening experience with include Merle Haggard, Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, and Dolly Parton. You may want to listen to some of the more modern-day country music stars, such as Carrie Underwood, Keith Urban, Kenny Chesney, or Shania Twain.

Another way to celebrate International Country Music Day is to learn a country music instrument. There are many different types of instruments that are used in country music. This includes the acoustic guitar, fiddle, drums, dobro, bass, banjo, and autoharp. The accordion and harmonica are also widely used. We’re sure the guitar may be one of the first instruments that spring to mind for many people reading this. You can probably envision someone on the stage, with their cowboy hat and boots, and a guitar in hand.

The good news is that you can find online music lessons for any instrument today, so you should have no problem learning the instrument of your choice. The best way to find a good website for online learning is to read reviews that have been left, both by previous users as well as experts in the music industry. This will give you a great insight into the website and whether it is right for you. Needless to say, if you come across a lot of negative comments, you know it is not worth checking out.

The next thing you need to look at is the way the lessons are presented. Are they in written format? Or, are demonstration videos available? A lot of people prefer the latter as it gives them the ability to see how the instrument should be played visually. You will also want to make sure that there is plenty of learning material available so that you never get bored or run out of lessons to enjoy. You should also look for a website that is fun and keeps you motivated. Finally, value for money is a must. There are free resources available, but you will probably need to pay if you want something that has everything you need to learn the instrument in question effectively.

It is also worth doing a quick search online to see if there are any events that are going on in your area on International Country Music Day. You will often find that there are a number of festivals that take place on this date around the world. Plus, a lot of restaurants and clubs will pay tribute to country music with a special setlist. If you can’t find a country music event going on in your area, why not host your own party for family and friends?

There are also a number of great movies that we would suggest watching on International Country Music Day if you are looking for more of a laidback way to celebrate this day. This includes Coal Miner’s Daughter, which is a film about one of the world’s most loved country singers and songwriters; Loretta Lynn. Another great film to watch is Tender Mercies.

This film is not based on anyone famous. Instead, it is about a character called Mac Sledge, who is played by Robert Duvall. Mac is a recovering albeit washed-up alcoholic and country singer who wants to make a new start in a small town in Texas. The film truly is a spectacular one, with Duvall winning a Best Actor award at the 1984 Academy Awards for his performance. Other films that are worth a mention include Honkytonk Man, Crazy Heart, Pure Country, Honeysuckle Rose, Walk the Line, Songwriter, The Thing Called Love, and Songcatcher. So, get the popcorn in, and spend the day binging on the best country music-inspired films from over the years!

Source

JOHN ISIAH WALTON is a New Orleans artist whose neo-expressionist works are internationally recognized for their commentary on race, class, identity, and current events through his irreverent, frenetic and sometimes absurdist style. His art has been on show at the Art Lab Akiba (Tokyo, Japan); the Atlanta Contemporary Biennial (Atlanta, Georgia); the Ogden Museum of Southern Art (New Orleans, Louisiana); the permanent collection of the New Orleans Museum of Art; the Ohr-O’Keefe Museum of Art (Biloxi, Mississippi); P339 (Brooklyn, New York); and more. His residencies include the Macedonia Institute (Chatham, New York) and the Joan Mitchell Center (New Orleans). In 2022, he will showcase work in Tel Aviv, Israel.

Influenced by internet aesthetics, Black identity, pop culture, and Louisiana history, Walton’s subjects are often unconventional and sometimes shocking. In the tradition of Basquiat, his work frequently has hidden meanings and symbols, and his choppy brushwork endows the work with the energy and intensity that the artist is known for. Rooted in concern about the social, economic, political, and cultural structures at play in contemporary life, Walton’s best-known series sometimes encourage discomfort. 

His breakthrough exhibit was 2015’s “Beaucoup Humidity,” curated by the legendary Diego Cortez. A behind-the-scenes exploration of service industry workers of his hometown, the series exemplifies Walton’s signature wit and personal experience to depict the New Orleans underbelly hidden from tourists. The series was preceded by 2012’s “Zulu Portraits,” which featured post-colonial portraiture of Black and white political leaders in blackface to remind us to deconstruct or disentangle an errant white American history. The title is a reference to the Zulu Social Aid & Pleasure Club parade krewe of New Orleans.

In 2016, Walton tackled the carceral state in a series featuring inmates of the Louisiana State Penitentiary known as Angola, portrayed through portraits of bulls and bullfighters. The series aims to examine our complacency with incarceration, and represents a more subdued but no less subversive approach to critical social commentary. The “Black Paintings,” a series Walton began in 2017, address issues of identity including visibility and invisibility, presence and absence, figure, and void. On canvases painted black, layers of neon-hued acrylic and oil stick depict scenes ranging from the mundane to the controversial. 

Walton was the first African-American member of the artist collective The Front and a founding member of both The Level Artist Collective and the Second Story Gallery. He has lectured about his work to the graduate program at UNC, Chapel Hill. He attended St. Augustine High School. (1999-2002) and graduated from Sarah T. Reed High School (2003). Walton received an AA degree in 2012 from Delgado College, New Orleans.

TOKAS annual 2022

Editors / SUGIMOTO Katsuhiko,Tokyo Arts and Space (ICHIKAWA Akiko, SEKI Asako, TAKECHI Asagi,UEDA Kaoru [pp. 150–157]) Interviewers / UCHIDA Shinichi (pp. 10–29), SUGIMOTO Katsuhiko (pp. 158–173) Translation / Robert REED (except artist profiles), Tokyo Arts and Space Interview Photos / Houmi Sakata (pp. 10–29), GOTO Takehiro (pp. 158–173) Photos / IIKAWA Takehiro, KATO Ken, MAETANI Kai, OHNO Ryusuke, Houmi Sakata, SATO Motoi, TAKAHASHI Kenji, TAKARA Mahara, Tokyo Arts and Space Design / HATA Yurie Printing / ATOMI co.,Ltd ©2022 Tokyo Arts and Space, Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo, Tokyo Metropolitan Foundation for History and Culture

Precisely when people began to twine, loop, and knot is unknowable, but we can say with reasonable confidence that string and rope are some of the most ancient materials used by humankind. At first, our ancestors likely harvested nature’s ready-made threads and cordage, such as vines, reeds, grass, and roots. If traditional medicine and existing Indigenous cultures are any clue, early humans may have even used spider silk to catch fish and bandage wounds. Hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of years ago, people realized they could extract fibers from the hair and tissues of animals, as well as from the husks, leaves, and innards of certain sinewy, pulpy, or pliant plants, such as agave, cannabis, coconut, cotton, and jute. By twisting these natural fibers around one another again and again, they formed a material of superb resilience and versatility.

Because they are prone to decay, pieces of intact string from more than a few thousand years ago are scarce. Even when they are found, they rarely make headlines or feature in museum exhibits, more likely to be relegated to storage. But they do exist: in 2009, scientists revealed the discovery of tiny 30,000-year-old flax fibers in clay excavated from a cave in Europe. Some of the fibers were twisted, knotted, spun, or dyed turquoise and pink, suggesting complex textiles. If one looks at the archaeological record in the right way—focusing on the implied rather than the material existence of ancient fiber—then the evidence for the importance of string and rope is even older. In South Africa, Israel, and Austria, researchers have found shell and bone beads dating as far back as 300,000 years ago. And in the Hohle Fels cave in southwestern Germany, archaeologists discovered a 40,000-year-old piece of mammoth ivory carved with four holes, each enclosing spiral incisions. They think the tool was used to weave reeds, bark, and roots into a thick cord.

 —   The Long, Knotty, World-Spanning Story of String

May 16, 2024

This week marks 70 years since the Supreme Court's landmark civil rights ruling of Brown v. Board of Education integrated public education. Geoff Bennett discussed more with Annette Gordon Reed of Harvard Law School and the first Black student to enroll in an all-white school in her Texas hometown in 1963, and Kevin Young of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture.