Speaking of mummies
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The Cairo toe is, apparently, the oldest functional prosthetic. (And, somewhat surprisingly, on display in Cairo.)
Ben Franklin and King Tut
Filed Under Life
The Sunday after visiting the Art Museum we went to the Franklin Institute’s King Tut exhibit. And the Franklin Institute in general, which I’d never visited before. (That weekend was very Philadelphia intensive.) I definitely understand the complaints about a bias toward entertainment rather than education—I mean, I love a Jacob’s Ladder as much as the next girl, but the science discussion seemed a bit lacking for some things. Still, that complaint wasn’t universal and the big giant heart was cool. I’m looking forward to shepherding my theoretical future children through the ventricles someday.
The IMAX movie was appropriately narrated by Christopher Lee. Since we were not sitting in the two or three good seats in the sweet spot (which I presume exists) it looked kind of crappy. Even if it had looked good, I don’t think there was much benefit to the IMAX presentation. But anyway, beyond the technical presentation the mummy introduction wasn’t all that impressive (or particularly appropriate, as it did not focus on Tutankhamen). They had three or four plotlines they were sort of developing, but didn’t do justice to any. The crime story of the grave robbers who found the tomb, and revealed its location only when the western Egyptologist set the local authorities on them…the science fiction tale involving the Amazing Cure for Disease discovered in the DNA extracted from the mummy (or, alternatively, evidence that the mummy was an alien)…the Indiana Jones knockoffs involving the discovery of any of the tombs or the Rosetta-fu of the Egyptologists…the science fictional exploration of Ramses’s politics—if he was such a wise and reasonable ruler, but also the biblical Pharaoh, what was up with the Hebrews and OMG the only explanation is that God really did harden his heart and therefore must exist…and so forth. But instead it was kinda lame, except for the Christopher Lee part.
(Hm. I’m really sounding quite negative here. That’s a bit unfortunate, because I did in fact enjoy the exhibit, and the Franklin Institute in general, and certainly liked hanging in with the out of town friends we went with.)
The exhibit itself was very impressive and surreal. There were pieces I recognized from the archaeology class I took in college. I’ve had similar experiences on other museum jaunts—the Dalí exhibit a couple years ago, the walls o’ Renoir at the Barnes, and so on and so forth. But in those cases, the paintings are reasonably modern. Not created within living memory, necessarily, but within a countable number of generations. That’s not the case with the Egyptian pieces. It’s more akin to the experience of walking through the British Museum and wondering why they didn’t just go whole hog, disassemble the Parthenon and relocate it. (Okay, the Elgin Marbles are more surreal than tomb-loot; even the bigger pieces are still pieces—sculpture, knick-knacks, not architecture.)
The percentage of wooden artifacts was also odd. First, because it’s so old but still the original wood, not even the temple of Theseus effect you get with, say, Japanese structures. Second, because the use of wood (and other humble materials) means that a fair number of the pieces aren’t intrinsically valuable; they’re only valuable because they’re really, really old. (Okay, the Egyptian craze also played havoc with their market value, undoubtedly more than the purely academic interest.)
Which leads into my persistent low-level discomfort with the exhibit. As I was walking around, I kept feeling like there were probably better things to do with these pieces. With my single archaeology class, I might well have been better informed about Egyptian art and history than a fair percentage of the people there (e.g. I walked in knowing about the religious and artistic changes during Akhenaten’s reign). But I was nonetheless nothing but a consumer looking at shiny things. My intellectual snobbery was pitted against my democratic desires.
Note that my intellectual snobbery is not wholly self-centered: I lump myself in amongst the rubes who are, if not precisely “unworthy,” at least incapable of making any contributions to the field thanks to their trip to see the exhibit. And yet, surely everyone should have access to works of art, a basic human right somewhere between freedom of speech and freedom from spam. And maybe the next great archaeologist will find his or her calling at the Franklin Institute (thus reconciling the snob and the democrat).
My internal democrat had a more difficult time shouting down my internal snob when the exhibit let out in the gift shop. I really hate that; it’s so tacky. (And, as Larry pointed out, had the side effect of making the actual artifacts look rather shabby in comparison to the replicas on sale.) I think part of the reason I didn’t have the negative “Why are these people looking at this stuff rather than Experts?” reaction to the Art Museum’s calligraphy exhibit is that it dumps you back out into the museum. After looking at the work of Taiga and Gyokuran, we looked at a Japanese tea house, Hindu temple, and crossbows. There was a slightly more dignified air of imbibing Culture and being educated, rather than entertained.
Dunno. Maybe this just means I have a stick up my snobby ass.
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Where will we get our Bat Boy updates now?
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The Weekly World News is dead. Somehow the world feels like a smaller place.
Masterful brushwork
Filed Under Life
Saturday a bunch of us went to the Ike Taiga and Tokuyama Gyokuran exhibition at the Art Museum. The calligraphy was very beautiful, though it would perhaps be more impressive if I could read it. (Or maybe not. Characters make better art than letters; no matter how elegant or illuminated, letters still primarily convey information.) It’s always neat to see the work of husband and wife pairs.
Taiga’s fingerpainting blew us all away: there was just an amazing degree of control and very fine detail. Larry and I both want to find a print of Taiga’s True View of Mount Asama. I quite liked the negative space in his Bamboo in a Snowstorm, though generally I liked the landscapes better than the bamboo studies. Gyokuran’s fans and orchids were particularly impressive.
When I was a kid, my sister and I had those cheap little folding fans, metal frames and paper with landscapes. It’s very odd to think of similarly cheesy souvenirs in an earlier period, painted by masters for the tourists.
After that exhibit, we wandered around the rest of the museum, primarily the Asian art and the rooms of Pointy Things. Larry and I had fun speculating about bringing our future children to the museum and quizzing them on the base damage of the various weapons and the AC of the plate armor. Because yes, our kids will know rapiers crit on 18.
Chore Wars
Filed Under Life
Yes, Larry and I are doing Chore Wars. Yes, it is possible that this will give us an incentive to do more work around the house.
And yes, we spent more time setting up our characters and adventures than we did actually doing housework today. I suppose that’s a bit sad. But if the house is less of a mess at the end, it’s worth it.
So far today I’ve earned some gold and XP, and got my ass kicked by a Fire Ant while loading the dishwasher. Shortly I will face zombies and boogeymen while twiddling and folding the laundry. If I’m lucky, I may find a treasure like the Wedding Band of Fidelity or the Naughty Knickers of Takhisis.
Shred subs
Filed Under Shred of Evidence
A note to crime/mystery writers: Shred of Evidence is open to all fiction submissions. A note to writers of different genres: I’m always open to cross-genre fiction and certainly wouldn’t mind seeing more of it in my inbox.
Cat on a ladder
Filed Under Pets
I have very cute pets, but I have thusfar resisted the temptation to litter my blog with their pictures. Everyone has lines, and that’s one I had to draw to allow myself to keep a bit of self-respect.
So I will not embed an exceedingly cute video of a cat climbing a ladder.
Instead, I will recommend that you go to j7’s LiveJournal and check out the video. It’s not quite as cute as a live performance, but it’s pretty adorable.
Go on, click. You know you want to. Yeah, even you “am I hardboiled or am I noir?” CrimeSpot folks. I dare you. Watch this video and try to deny she’s one of the cutest widdle kitties you’ve ever seen.
Code Monkeys
Filed Under TV
I get a kick out of this show. It makes me nostalgic for 80s video games, which is a pretty good trick considering how few I played. I never owned an Atari, and while I never wanted one as a kid I now feel deprived.
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If you have to ask…
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For the past week or so I’ve been reading Savage Love. I’m finding it entertaining, but I was disturbed by a couple of letters. Are there really multiple adults out there sticking portions of their anatomy into the rectum of another adult who can’t figure out how to avoid getting shit on their skin?
Blobfest!
Saturday we went to Blobfest. Friday evening there was a reenactment of the evacuation from the theater—we didn’t go to that, but might in the future. We skipped or quickly glanced at Saturday’s other non-movie activities: a costume contest, a small street festival, guests, etc. We’ve been to enough SF conventions that we were a bit underwhelmed by the offerings, though if I was a serious B-movie buff I expect I’d have enjoyed the panels and whatnot.
I’d never actually seen The Blob before, and it wasn’t as painful as many monster movies of the era (where pain is defined as extreme boredom, lacking the intervention of Joel, Mike, or the bots). But it was definitely amusing to watch it in the Colonial Theater; it’s certainly the venue I’ll choose when it’s time for my kids to watch the movie.
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