tracing the network’s resolution
NeuroAnthropology rounded up a discussion on the Medical Anthropology listserve that collected suggestions about examples of trance states in ethnographic film. Some captivating links came out of it:
“Holy Ghost People” by Peter Adair, which shows folks in Appalachia (in what very much looks like trance-like states) handling snakes. You can also get this documentary in a series of six YouTube clips starting here
Thaipusam Ritual: Pain & Trance.
Next nature featured one of those discoveries to emerge out of archeology that cannot help but give one a smile of pause and a thought that this too, indeed, will pass.
Doggerland is the name of a vast plain that joined Britain to Europe for nearly 12,000 years, until sea levels began rising dramatically after the last Ice Age. Taking its name from a prominent shipping hazard—Dogger Bank—this immense landbridge vanished beneath the North Sea around 6000 B.C.
Like all landbridges, Doggerland seems to have been a pretty busy thoroughfare for ancient hunters and gatherers. But archaeologists hardly gave it a thought until 2002, when a small group of British researchers laid hands on seismic survey data collected by the petroleum industry in the North Sea.
It is thought that the sea level rose no faster than about one or two meters per century, and that the land would have disappeared in a series of punctuated inundations. According to marine archaeologist Nic Flemming, a research fellow at the National Oceanography Centre of University of Southampton, UK. “It was perfectly noticeable in a generation, but nobody had to run for the hills.”
Although hunter-gatherers usually have any sense of ownership, land would have become an increasingly precious resource as the sea rose, which according researchers Clive Waddington & Nicky Miller might have led directly to the development of sedentism and territoriality.
The US Office of the National Counterintelligence Executive recently published a four-part reader as an accompaniment to the lectures they conduct:
Our reader’s three volumes cover counterintelligence’s past and present. Nevertheless they form a whole: the first volume provides material elucidating counter- intelligence’s antecedents from the American Revolution to World War II. Volume two focuses on World War II while volume three begins with the Atom Bomb spies and concludes with the latest espionage cases. History is more than background; it is the framework of the present.
We have taken material from official government documents, indictments from several espionage cases, and articles written by professors, scholars and counterintelligence officers. We have abridged some selections while trying not to change the sense of the original but we have not altered the original usage of the English language.
Each chapter in the three volumes has an introduction, which sketches out the main trends and characteristics of the period in question. There is a chronology with each chapter for volumes one and three, but volume two only has one chronology to cover the entire period. At the end of each chapter is a selected bibliography. We hope this will help you get a sense of the period as a whole. The reader is not all-inclusive and people may disagree with our selections, but at least we hope to have provided sufficient material to entice our colleagues to do further research.
Counterintelligence is a fascinating and challenging discipline. Our response to these challenges is determined, not by the requisites of the immediate situation but by our historical legacy. Thus we urge that the materials presented in the three volumes be read, not as background to the present, but as part of the present itself.
A fourth volume covers recent spying successes, failures, programs and reports.
A rather entrancing article, published originally in the Guardian, meditates on the hidden images of America’s “last good war.” Following the surrender of Japan in WWII, the US issued a strict writ of censorship stating that “nothing shall be printed which might, directly or by inference, disturb public tranquility.” Consequently, the atomic bombings in Japan have become, as the novelist Mary McCarthy wrote in 1946, “a kind of hole in human history,” unaccompanied by much of a visual record. The article follows the discovery of an amazing cache of photographs, previously unseen to the public, taken by the US Military’s Physical Damage Division at the end of the war:
One rainy night eight years ago, in Watertown, Massachusetts, a man was taking his dog for a walk. On the curb, in front of a neighbor’s house, he spotted a pile of trash: old mattresses, cardboard boxes, a few broken lamps. Amidst the garbage he caught sight of a battered suitcase. He bent down, turned the case on its side and popped the clasps.He was surprised to discover that the suitcase was full of black-and-white photographs. He was even more astonished by their subject matter: devastated buildings, twisted girders, broken bridges — snapshots from an annihilated city. He quickly closed the case and made his way back home.
At the kitchen table, he looked through the photographs again and confirmed what he had suspected. He was looking at something he had never seen before: the effects of the first use of the Atomic bomb. The man was looking at Hiroshima. [link]