Watch Ta-Nehisi Coates Speak French Before & After Attending Middlebury’s Immersion Program

The many fans of Ta-Nehisi Coates, long­time Atlantic cor­re­spon­dent and author of books like The Beau­ti­ful Strug­gle and Between the World and Me (not to men­tion his more recent role as a writer of Black Pan­ther comics), know a thing or two about the tri­als and tribu­la­tions he went through to become one of Amer­i­ca’s best-known pub­lic intel­lec­tu­als, but few­er of them know how intense a bat­tle he’s waged, over the past few years, on the side: that of mas­ter­ing the French lan­guage in his 30s and 40s.

“I’m tak­ing an hour a week to try to teach myself French,” Coates wrote on his blog at The Atlantic in the sum­mer of 2011, explain­ing that his wife “went to Paris five years ago and loved it. She wants me to go back with her, and I want to go. But I refuse to do so until I have a rudi­men­ta­ry under­stand­ing of the lan­guage. This isn’t about impress­ing the French — I expect my accent to mocked — it’s about how I inter­pret the world. Lan­guage is a big part of it.” After start­ing to dig into the For­eign Ser­vice Insti­tute’s French mate­ri­als (avail­able free in our lan­guage-learn­ing col­lec­tion), he crossed out the word week in “an hour a week” to replace it with day, already sens­ing, no doubt, the unex­pect­ed demands this par­tic­u­lar lan­guage would make on him.

“ ‘Et alors’ is sim­i­lar to our ‘So what?’ But ‘Et Alors’ does­n’t sim­ply sound dif­fer­ent, it feels dif­fer­ent, it car­ries anoth­er con­no­ta­tion, anoth­er music,” he wrote in an ear­ly 2012 fol­low-up. “I don’t know if that means any­thing to peo­ple who don’t write pro­fes­sion­al­ly, but for me it means a ton.” It seems only right, he con­clud­ed, “that a writer should explore lan­guages and try to spend time with as many as he or she can. That I should arrive at such an obvi­ous con­clu­sion at this late date is hum­bling.” And so he pressed stead­fast­ly on, mem­o­riz­ing French vocab­u­lary words and gram­mat­i­cal struc­tures, tak­ing class­es, meet­ing with a tutor, and after receiv­ing his first pass­port at the age of 37, study­ing and prac­tic­ing in real Fran­coph­o­ne places like Paris and Switzer­land.

Coates stepped up to a high­er lev­el of French skill — and a much high­er lev­el of French chal­lenge — when he signed up for Mid­dle­bury Col­lege’s sev­en-week French immer­sion pro­gram, throw­ing him­self into an envi­ron­ment of much younger and “fiercer” class­mates with­out the pos­si­bil­i­ty of lean­ing on his native lan­guage. When he sat down for the four-minute video inter­view at the top of the post before ship­ping out to Mid­dle­bury, he lat­er revealed, “there were sev­er­al moments when I did­n’t even under­stand the ques­tion.” No such prob­lems when he sat for anoth­er short con­ver­sa­tion after the sev­en weeks, cap­tured in the video just above: “What changed most at Mid­dle­bury, for me, was not in how I talked, but how I heard.”

Though Mid­dle­bury clear­ly helped push him for­ward, Coates does­n’t seem to con­sid­er par­tic­i­pa­tion in such a pro­gram a require­ment for even the ambi­tious French learn­er. Main­tain­ing the right atti­tude, how­ev­er, is non-nego­tiable: “I expect to suck for awhile. Then I expect to slow­ly get bet­ter. The point is nei­ther mas­tery, nor flu­en­cy. The point is hard study — the repeat­ed appli­ca­tion of a prin­ci­ple until the eyes and ears bleed a lit­tle.” Grap­pling with French has taught him, among oth­er life lessons he’s writ­ten about, “that it is much bet­ter to focus on process, than out­comes. The ques­tion isn’t ‘When will I mas­ter the sub­junc­tive?’ It’s ‘Did I put in my hour of study today?’ ”

How you feel about your process of study, Coates empha­sizes, “it is as impor­tant as any objec­tive real­i­ty. Hope­less­ness feeds the fatigue that leads the stu­dent to quit. It is not the study of lan­guage that is hard, so much as the ‘feel­ing’ that your present lev­el is who you are and who you will always be. I remem­ber return­ing from France at the end of the sum­mer of 2013, and being con­vinced that I had some kind of brain injury which pre­vent­ed me from hear­ing French vow­el sounds. But the real ene­my was not any injury so much as the ‘feel­ing’ of despair. That is why I ignore all the research about chil­dren and their lan­guage advan­tage. I don’t want to hear it. I just don’t care.”

After less than a year of study­ing French, Coates found, his brain had begun to “hunger for that feel­ing of stu­pid­i­ty” that comes from less-than-sat­is­fac­to­ry com­pre­hen­sion. “There is absolute­ly noth­ing in this world like the feel­ing of suck­ing at some­thing and then improv­ing at it,” he wrote in a more recent reflec­tion on his ongo­ing (and now sure­ly life­long) engage­ment with French. “Every­one should do it every ten years or so.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free French Lessons

French in Action: Cult Clas­sic French Lessons from Yale (52 Episodes) Avail­able Online

A Map Show­ing How Much Time It Takes to Learn For­eign Lan­guages: From Eas­i­est to Hard­est

Learn 48 Lan­guages Online for Free: Span­ish, Chi­nese, Eng­lish & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Hear 55 Hours of Shakespeare’s Plays: The Tragedies, Comedies & Histories Performed by Vanessa Redgrave, Sir John Gielgud, Ralph Fiennes & Many More

The so-called “Great Vow­el Shift” was a very unusu­al occur­rence. Dur­ing the peri­od between around 1500 to around 1700, the Eng­lish lan­guage “lost the pur­er vow­el sounds of most Euro­pean lan­guages, as well as the pho­net­ic pair­ing between long and short vow­el sounds,” writes the site The His­to­ry of Eng­lish. Such rad­i­cal lin­guis­tic change seems a “sud­den and dra­mat­ic shift” his­tor­i­cal­ly, and “a pecu­liar­ly Eng­lish phe­nom­e­non…. con­tem­po­rary and neigh­bor­ing lan­guages like French, Ger­man and Span­ish were entire­ly unaf­fect­ed.” Over a peri­od of around 200 years, in oth­er words, Eng­lish com­plete­ly mor­phed from Chaucer’s melod­ic, near­ly incom­pre­hen­si­ble Mid­dle Eng­lish into the sounds we hear in Dami­an Lewis’s speech as Antony in Julius Cae­sar, above.

Shakespeare’s Eng­lish sound­ed like nei­ther of these, but some­what like both. Eng­lish became more dis­tinc­tive pre­cise­ly dur­ing the time it became more cos­mopoli­tan, philo­soph­i­cal, and, even­tu­al­ly, glob­al.

It was a peri­od of “a large intake of loan­words from the Romance lan­guages of Europe…, which required a dif­fer­ent kind of pronunciation”—and of a great flood of Lati­nate words from sci­en­tif­ic, legal, and med­ical dis­course. “Latin loan­words in Old and Mid­dle Eng­lish are a mere trick­le,” writes Charles Bar­ber in The Eng­lish Lan­guage, “but in Ear­ly Mod­ern Eng­lish,” Shakespeare’s Eliz­a­bethan Eng­lish, “the trick­le becomes a riv­er, and by 1600 it is a del­uge.”

The Eng­lish Renais­sance sits smack in the mid­dle of the Great Vow­el Shift, its lit­er­ary pro­duc­tions reflect­ing a riotous and thrilling con­flu­ence of speech, a wild field of lin­guis­tic play and exper­i­men­ta­tion, nov­el­ty, inge­nu­ity, and con­tro­ver­sy. The schol­ars and writ­ers of the time were them­selves very aware of these changes. One “Eliz­a­bethan head­mas­ter,” notes Bar­ber, “com­ment­ed in 1582 on the large num­ber of for­eign words being bor­rowed dai­ly by the Eng­lish lan­guage.” (Empha­sis mine.)

Shakespeare’s lan­guage rev­els in such bor­row­ing, and coin­ing, of words, while often pre­serv­ing the pro­nun­ci­a­tion and the syn­tax, of ear­li­er forms of Eng­lish from all over the UK. All oth­er argu­ments for read­ing and lis­ten­ing to Shake­speare aside—and they are too numerous—the rich­ness of the lan­guage may be the most robust for cen­turies to come. As long as there is some­thing called English—though a thou­sand years hence, our ver­sion may sound as alien as the lan­guage of Beowulf does today—Shake­speare will still rep­re­sent some of the wit­ti­est, most adven­tur­ous expres­sions of the most fer­tile and cre­ative moment in the language’s his­to­ry.

Luck­i­ly for those future Eng­lish speak­ers, writ­ers, and appre­ci­a­tors, Shake­speare has also been the most wide­ly adapt­ed, record­ed, and per­formed writer in the Eng­lish lan­guage, and there will nev­er be a short­age of his work in any for­mat. Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion Shake­speare has only recent­ly left the acad­e­my and made it to reg­u­lar per­for­mances on the stage, giv­ing us a taste of just how dif­fer­ent the ver­bal music of Ham­let and Romeo and Juli­et sound­ed to their first audi­ences. But what’s remark­able is how Shake­speare seems to work in any accent and any set­ting… almost.

As far as Amer­i­can actors go, Bran­do may have been more up to the task of play­ing Mark Antony than Charl­ton Hes­ton was, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have both, and hun­dreds more besides. I would argue that there’s no such thing as too much Shake­speare in too many dif­fer­ent voic­es. His plays needn’t be the great­est ever writ­ten to nonethe­less con­tain some of the great­est speech­es ever per­formed on any stage. That very much includes the speech­es in less­er-known tragedies like Cori­olanus, which an ensem­ble cast of Ralph Fiennes, Vanes­sa Red­grave, Bri­an Cox, Elan Eshk­eri, and Ger­ard But­ler turned into a 21st-cen­tu­ry polit­i­cal barn­burn­er of a movie.

The music and dia­logue from that 2011 film adap­ta­tion open the playlist of Shakespeare’s tragedies, fur­ther up, which also includes a per­for­mance from Sir John Giel­gud in Ham­let and a record­ed per­for­mance of Amer­i­can com­pos­er Samuel Barber’s Antony and Cleopa­tra, a 1966 opera with a libret­to by Fran­co Zef­firelli based exclu­sive­ly on Shakespeare’s text. This work pre­miered as “one of the great oper­at­ic dis­as­ters of all time,” accord­ing to one crit­ic who was in its first audi­ence, “at one point the sopra­no Leon­tyne Price… found her­self trapped inside a pyra­mid.” The idio­syn­crat­ic deliv­ery in these var­i­ous per­for­mances all stress the flex­i­bil­i­ty of Shakespeare’s lan­guage, which can still mes­mer­ize, even under Spinal Tap-like con­di­tions of per­for­mance anx­i­ety.

After you’ve worked your way through 18 hours of Shakespeare’s tragedies, lis­ten fur­ther up to 19 hours of Come­dies, 13 hours of His­to­ries, and, just above, to some­thing we may not have enough of—5 hours of read­ings of Shakespeare’s poet­ry, by actors like Giel­gud and Sir Antho­ny Quayle, Richard Bur­ton, Emma Top­ping, and many more. Anoth­er great vow­el shift may be com­ing, along with oth­er world his­tor­i­cal changes. These copi­ous record­ings pre­serve for the future the diverse sounds of Late Mod­ern Eng­lish, speak­ing the rich­est lit­er­ary lan­guage of its Ear­ly Mod­ern ances­tor.

If you need Spo­ti­fy’s free soft­ware, down­load it here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A 68 Hour Playlist of Shakespeare’s Plays Being Per­formed by Great Actors: Giel­gud, McK­ellen & More

Hear What Shake­speare Sound­ed Like in the Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion

Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour Sings Shakespeare’s Son­net 18

Hear Beowulf Read In the Orig­i­nal Old Eng­lish: How Many Words Do You Rec­og­nize?

Hear What Shake­speare Sound­ed Like in the Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The Entire Archives of Radical Philosophy Go Online: Read Essays by Michel Foucault, Alain Badiou, Judith Butler & More (1972–2018)

On a seem­ing­ly dai­ly basis, we see attacks against the intel­lec­tu­al cul­ture of the aca­d­e­m­ic human­i­ties, which, since the 1960s, have opened up spaces for left­ists to devel­op crit­i­cal the­o­ries of all kinds. Attacks from sup­pos­ed­ly lib­er­al pro­fes­sors and cen­trist op-ed colum­nists, from well-fund­ed con­ser­v­a­tive think tanks and white suprema­cists on col­lege cam­pus tours. All rail against the evils of fem­i­nism, post-mod­ernism, and some­thing called “neo-Marx­ism” with out­sized agi­ta­tion.

For stu­dents and pro­fes­sors, the onslaughts are exhaust­ing, and not only because they have very real, often dan­ger­ous, con­se­quences, but because they all attack the same straw men (or “straw peo­ple”) and refuse to engage with aca­d­e­m­ic thought on its own terms. Rarely, in the exas­per­at­ing pro­lif­er­a­tion of cranky, cher­ry-picked anti-acad­e­mia op-eds do we encounter peo­ple actu­al­ly read­ing and grap­pling with the ideas of their sup­posed ide­o­log­i­cal neme­ses.

Were non-aca­d­e­m­ic crit­ics to take aca­d­e­m­ic work seri­ous­ly, they might notice that debates over “polit­i­cal cor­rect­ness,” “thought polic­ing,” “iden­ti­ty pol­i­tics,” etc. have been going on for thir­ty years now, and among left intel­lec­tu­als them­selves. Con­trary to what many seem to think, crit­i­cism of lib­er­al ide­ol­o­gy has not been banned in the acad­e­my. It is absolute­ly the case that the human­i­ties have become increas­ing­ly hos­tile to irre­spon­si­ble opin­ions that dehu­man­ize peo­ple, like emer­gency room doc­tors become hos­tile to drunk dri­ving. But it does not fol­low there­fore that one can­not dis­agree with the estab­lish­ment, as though the Uni­ver­si­ty sys­tem were still behold­en to the Vat­i­can.

Under­stand­ing this requires work many peo­ple are unwill­ing to do, either because they’re busy and dis­tract­ed or, per­haps more often, because they have oth­er, bad faith agen­das. Should one decide to sur­vey the philo­soph­i­cal debates on the left, how­ev­er, an excel­lent place to start would be Rad­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy, which describes itself as a “UK-based jour­nal of social­ist and fem­i­nist phi­los­o­phy.” Found­ed in 1972, in response to “the wide­ly-felt dis­con­tent with the steril­i­ty of aca­d­e­m­ic phi­los­o­phy at the time,” the jour­nal was itself an act of protest against the cul­ture of acad­e­mia.

Rad­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy has pub­lished essays and inter­views with near­ly all of the big names in aca­d­e­m­ic phi­los­o­phy on the left—from Marx­ists, to post-struc­tural­ists, to post-colo­nial­ists, to phe­nom­e­nol­o­gists, to crit­i­cal the­o­rists, to Laca­ni­ans, to queer the­o­rists, to rad­i­cal the­olo­gians, to the prag­ma­tist Richard Rorty, who made argu­ments for nation­al pride and made sev­er­al cri­tiques of crit­i­cal the­o­ry as an illib­er­al enter­prise. The full range of rad­i­cal crit­i­cal the­o­ry over the past 45 years appears here, as well as con­trar­i­an respons­es from philoso­phers on the left.

Rorty was hard­ly the only one in the journal’s pages to cri­tique cer­tain promi­nent trends. Soci­ol­o­gists Pierre Bour­dieu and Loic Wac­quant launched a 2001 protest against what they called “a strange Newspeak,” or “NewLib­er­al­S­peak” that includ­ed words like “glob­al­iza­tion,” “gov­er­nance,” “employ­a­bil­i­ty,” “under­class,” “com­mu­ni­tar­i­an­ism,” “mul­ti­cul­tur­al­ism” and “their so-called post­mod­ern cousins.” Bour­dieu and Wac­quant argued that this dis­course obscures “the terms ‘cap­i­tal­ism,’ ‘class,’ ‘exploita­tion,’ ‘dom­i­na­tion,’ and ‘inequal­i­ty,’” as part of a “neolib­er­al rev­o­lu­tion,” that intends to “remake the world by sweep­ing away the social and eco­nom­ic con­quests of a cen­tu­ry of social strug­gles.”

One can also find in the pages of Rad­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy philoso­pher Alain Badiou’s 2005 cri­tique of “demo­c­ra­t­ic mate­ri­al­ism,” which he iden­ti­fies as a “post­mod­ernism” that “rec­og­nizes the objec­tive exis­tence of bod­ies alone. Who would ever speak today, oth­er than to con­form to a cer­tain rhetoric? Of the sep­a­ra­bil­i­ty of our immor­tal soul?” Badiou iden­ti­fies the ide­al of max­i­mum tol­er­ance as one that also, para­dox­i­cal­ly, “guides us, irre­sistibly” to war. But he refus­es to counter demo­c­ra­t­ic materialism’s max­im that “there are only bod­ies and lan­guages” with what he calls “its for­mal oppo­site… ‘aris­to­crat­ic ide­al­ism.’” Instead, he adds the sup­ple­men­tary phrase, “except that there are truths.”

Badiou’s polemic includes an oblique swipe at Stal­in­ism, a cri­tique Michel Fou­cault makes in more depth in a 1975 inter­view, in which he approv­ing­ly cites phe­nom­e­nol­o­gist Merleau-Ponty’s “argu­ment against the Com­mu­nism of the time… that it has destroyed the dialec­tic of indi­vid­ual and history—and hence the pos­si­bil­i­ty of a human­is­tic soci­ety and indi­vid­ual free­dom.” Fou­cault made a case for this “dialec­ti­cal rela­tion­ship” as that “in which the free and open human project con­sists.” In an inter­view two years lat­er, he talks of pris­ons as insti­tu­tions “no less per­fect than school or bar­racks or hos­pi­tal” for repress­ing and trans­form­ing indi­vid­u­als.

Foucault’s polit­i­cal phi­los­o­phy inspired fem­i­nist and queer the­o­rist Judith But­ler, whose argu­ments inspired many of today’s gen­der the­o­rists, and who is deeply con­cerned with ques­tions of ethics, moral­i­ty, and social respon­si­bil­i­ty. Her Adorno Prize Lec­ture, pub­lished in a 2012 issue, took up Theodor Adorno’s chal­lenge of how it is pos­si­ble to live a good life in bad cir­cum­stances (under fas­cism, for example)—a clas­si­cal polit­i­cal ques­tion that she engages through the work of Orlan­do Pat­ter­son, Han­nah Arendt, Lud­wig Wittgen­stein, and Hegel. Her lec­ture ends with a dis­cus­sion of the eth­i­cal duty to active­ly resist and protest an intol­er­a­ble sta­tus quo.

You can now read for free all of these essays and hun­dreds more at the Rad­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy archive, either on the site itself or in down­load­able PDFs. The jour­nal, run by an ‘Edi­to­r­i­al Col­lec­tive,” still appears three times a year. The most recent issue fea­tures an essay by Lars T. Lih on the Russ­ian Rev­o­lu­tion through the lens of Thomas Hobbes, a detailed his­tor­i­cal account by Nathan Brown of the term “post­mod­ern,” and its inap­plic­a­bil­i­ty to the present moment, and an essay by Jami­la M.H. Mas­cat on the prob­lem of Hegelian abstrac­tion.

If noth­ing else, these essays and many oth­ers should upend facile notions of left­ist aca­d­e­m­ic phi­los­o­phy as dom­i­nat­ed by “post­mod­ern” denials of truth, moral­i­ty, free­dom, and Enlight­en­ment thought, as doc­tri­naire Stal­in­ism, or lit­tle more than thought polic­ing through dog­mat­ic polit­i­cal cor­rect­ness. For every argu­ment in the pages of Rad­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy that might con­firm cer­tain read­ers’ bias­es, there are dozens more that will chal­lenge their assump­tions, bear­ing out Foucault’s obser­va­tion that “phi­los­o­phy can­not be an end­less scruti­ny of its own propo­si­tions.”

Enter the Rad­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy archive here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Intro­duc­ing Ergo, the New Open Phi­los­o­phy Jour­nal

His­to­ry of Mod­ern Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Online Course 

On the Pow­er of Teach­ing Phi­los­o­phy in Pris­ons

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

A Turing Machine Handmade Out of Wood

It took Richard Ridel six months of tin­ker­ing in his work­shop to cre­ate this contraption–a mechan­i­cal Tur­ing machine made out of wood. The silent video above shows how the machine works. But if you’re left hang­ing, want­i­ng to know more, I’d rec­om­mend read­ing Ridel’s fif­teen page paper where he care­ful­ly doc­u­ments why he built the wood­en Tur­ing machine, and what pieces and steps went into the con­struc­tion.

If this video prompts you to ask, what exact­ly is a Tur­ing Machine?, also con­sid­er adding this short primer by philoso­pher Mark Jago to your media diet.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via Boing­Bo­ing

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Com­put­er Sci­ence Cours­es

The Books on Young Alan Turing’s Read­ing List: From Lewis Car­roll to Mod­ern Chro­mat­ics

The LEGO Tur­ing Machine Gives a Quick Primer on How Your Com­put­er Works

The Enig­ma Machine: How Alan Tur­ing Helped Break the Unbreak­able Nazi Code

Hear the Christ­mas Car­ols Made by Alan Turing’s Com­put­er: Cut­ting-Edge Ver­sions of “Jin­gle Bells” and “Good King Wences­las” (1951)

Moog This!: Hear a Playlist Featuring 36 Hours of Music Made with the Legendary Analog Synthesizer

Part of what makes elec­tron­ic music so wide-reach­ing and son­i­cal­ly far-see­ing, so to speak, is its diver­si­ty of influences—classical com­po­si­tion, avant-garde the­o­ry, punk and funk ener­gy, the sounds of fac­to­ries and city streets worldwide—and its range of inno­v­a­tive instru­men­ta­tion. But fore­most among those instru­ments, many clas­sic ana­logue syn­the­siz­ers of old are now found in vir­tu­al envi­ron­ments, where their pots, keys, patch bays, and pitch wheels get sim­u­lat­ed on lap­tops and MIDI con­trollers. Some­thing is lost—a cer­tain “aura,” as Wal­ter Ben­jamin might say. A cer­tain tremu­lous impre­ci­sion that hov­ers around the edges of syn­the­siz­ers like those designed by Robert Moog.

Moog’s cre­ations, writes David McNamee “ooze char­ac­ter” and are “the most icon­ic syn­the­siz­ers of all time. FACT.” For this rea­son, Moog’s ana­log cre­ations still hold mar­ket share as mod­ern instru­ments while remain­ing lega­cy items for their trans­for­ma­tion of entire gen­res of pop­u­lar music since the 1960s, even though the engi­neer-inven­tor had no musi­cal train­ing him­self and no real inter­est at first in mak­ing par­tic­u­lar­ly usable instru­ments.

“Mas­sive, frag­ile and impos­si­ble to tune,” a func­tion Moog ini­tial­ly dis­missed, once the Moog was made portable and lib­er­at­ed from spe­cial­ized, wonky domains, it became a pri­ma­ry com­po­si­tion­al tool and both a lead and rhythm instru­ment.

The Moog’s fuzzy, wob­bly, warm sounds are unmis­tak­able; they can purr and thun­der, and the breadth of their capa­bil­i­ties is sur­pris­ing giv­en their rel­a­tive sim­plic­i­ty. We’ve told their sto­ry here before and fol­lowed it up with a ten-hour playlist of Moog and Moog-inspired clas­sics. Today, we bring you the playlist above, “Moog This!” which takes a left­field approach to the theme, and will catch even seri­ous elec­tron­ic music fans off guard with its selec­tions of not only obscure new sounds inspired by leg­ends like Gior­gio Moroder and Vangelis—the music of Firechild, for example—but also tracks from these leg­ends that sit just to the left of their most famous com­po­si­tions.

Rather than the usu­al, bril­liant­ly futur­is­tic Don­na Sum­mer dance track “I Feel Love”—the Spo­ti­fy cura­tor here goes for the sim­i­lar-sound­ing, but much more elab­o­rate instru­men­tal “Chase” (top), the only track here from Moroder. Rather than the era-defin­ing “West End Girls”—the Pet Shop Boys’ per­fect down­tem­po 1984 pop song—we get “Men and Mag­gots,” from their moody 2005 score for Sergei Eisenstein’s per­fect silent film, Bat­tle­ship Potemkin. That’s not to say there aren’t any vocal tracks here, but they are most­ly of the abstract, high­ly effect­ed vari­ety, like those from Boards of Cana­da and Air.

All in all, “Moog This!” the playlist shows what the syn­the­siz­er is capa­ble of out­side the con­text of main­stream pop, while still cap­tur­ing the qual­i­ties that make it an ide­al vehi­cle for acces­si­ble, emo­tion­al music, a pleas­ing ten­sion so well har­nessed by the ana­log synth-obsessed Stranger Things sound­track, which, like most of the tracks here, man­ages to sound both like the sound­track of a much cool­er past and of very cool future.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How the Moog Syn­the­siz­er Changed the Sound of Music

A 10-Hour Playlist of Music Inspired by Robert Moog’s Icon­ic Syn­the­siz­er: Hear Elec­tron­ic Works by Kraftwerk, Devo, Ste­vie Won­der, Rick Wake­man & More

The Scores That Elec­tron­ic Music Pio­neer Wendy Car­los Com­posed for Stan­ley Kubrick’s A Clock­work Orange and The Shin­ing

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Professional Scrabble Players Replay Their Greatest Moves: Their Most Improbable, Patient & Strategic Moves of All Time

If ever the cre­ators of the musi­cal The 25th Annu­al Put­nam Coun­ty Spelling Bee are cast­ing about for sequel-wor­thy source mate­r­i­al, we sug­gest they look no fur­ther than The New York­er’s video above, in which pro­fes­sion­al Scrab­ble play­ers replay their great­est moves.

The bingo—a move in which a play­er uses all sev­en tiles on their rack, earn­ing a bonus 50 points—figures promi­nent­ly.

It seems that top ranked play­ers not only eye their racks for poten­tial bin­gos, they’re con­stant­ly cal­cu­lat­ing the odds of draw­ing a next-turn bin­go by get­ting rid of exist­ing tiles on a three or four let­ter word.

And what words!

The desire to win at all costs leads top seat­ed play­ers to throw down such igno­ble words as “barf” and “mayo” in an are­na where rar­i­fied vocab­u­lary is the norm.

How many of us can define “stop­banks,” 2017 North Amer­i­can cham­pi­on Will Ander­son’s win­ning word?

For the record, they’re con­tin­u­ous mounds of earth built near rivers to stop water from the riv­er flood­ing near­by land….

The pros’ game boards yield a vocab­u­lary les­son that is per­haps more use­ful in Scrab­ble (or Banan­grams) than in life. Look ‘em up!

aeru­go

cape­skin

celom

engi­nous

gox

horal

jupon

kex

mura

oxeye

pya

ure­dele

varve

zin­cate

Don’t neglect the two-let­ter words. They can make a one-point dif­fer­ence between a major win and total and unmit­i­gat­ed defeat.

ag

al

da

ef

mo

od

oe

qi

xi

yo

Care­ful, though—“ir” is  not a word, as Top 40 play­er Jesse Day dis­cov­ered when attempt­ing to rack up mul­ti­ple hor­i­zon­tal and ver­ti­cal points.

Bear in mind that chal­leng­ing a word can also bite you in the butt. Bust­ing an opponent’s fake word play costs them a turn. If the word in ques­tion turns out to be valid, you sac­ri­fice a turn, as top 100 play­er, Prince­ton University’s Direc­tor of Health Pro­fes­sions Advis­ing, Kate Fukawa-Con­nel­ly, found out in a match against David Gib­son, a pre­vi­ous North Amer­i­can champ. Had she let it go, she would’ve best­ed him by one point.

Appear even more in the know by bon­ing up on a glos­sary of Scrab­ble terms, though you’ll have to look far and wide for such deep cuts as youngest North Amer­i­can cham­pi­on and food truck man­ag­er, Con­rad Bas­sett-Bouchard’s “fork­ing the board,” i.e. open­ing two sep­a­rate quad­rants, thus pre­vent­ing the oppos­ing play­er from block­ing.

Read­er Con­tent:

With Or With­out U: Pro­mot­ing a Scrab­ble Book to the Tune of U2

A Free 700-Page Chess Man­u­al Explains 1,000 Chess Tac­tics in Plain Eng­lish

Gar­ry Kas­parov Now Teach­ing an Online Course on Chess

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Join her in NYC on March 20 for the sec­ond install­ment of Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domain at The Tank. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Google Launches Three New Artificial Intelligence Experiments That Could Be Godsends for Artists, Museums & Designers

You’ll recall, a few months ago, when Google made it pos­si­ble for all of your Face­book friends to find their dop­pel­gängers in art his­to­ry. As so often with that par­tic­u­lar com­pa­ny, the fun dis­trac­tion came as the tip of a research-and-devel­op­ment-inten­sive ice­berg, and they’ve revealed the next lay­er in the form of three arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence-dri­ven exper­i­ments that allow us to nav­i­gate and find con­nec­tions among huge swaths of visu­al cul­ture with unprece­dent­ed ease.

Google’s new Art Palette, as explained in the video at the top of the post, allows you to search for works of art held in “col­lec­tions from over 1500 cul­tur­al insti­tu­tions,” not just by artist or move­ment or theme but by col­or palette.

You can spec­i­fy a col­or set, take a pic­ture with your phone’s cam­era to use the col­ors around you, or even go with a ran­dom set of five col­ors to take you to new artis­tic realms entire­ly.

Admit­ted­ly, scrolling through the hun­dreds of chro­mat­i­cal­ly sim­i­lar works of art from all through­out his­to­ry and across the world can at first feel a lit­tle uncan­ny, like walk­ing into one of those hous­es whose occu­pant has shelved their books by col­or. But a vari­ety of promis­ing uses will imme­di­ate­ly come to mind, espe­cial­ly for those pro­fes­sion­al­ly involved in the aes­thet­ic fields. Famous­ly col­or-lov­ing, art-inspired fash­ion design­er Paul Smith, for instance, appears in anoth­er pro­mo­tion­al video describ­ing how he’d use Art Palette: he’d “start off with the col­ors that I’ve select­ed for that sea­son, and then through the app look at those col­ors and see what gets thrown up.”

In col­lab­o­ra­tion with the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art, Google’s Art Rec­og­niz­er, the sec­ond of these exper­i­ments, uses machine learn­ing to find par­tic­u­lar works of art as they’ve var­i­ous­ly appeared over decades and decades of exhi­bi­tion. “We had recent­ly launched 30,000 instal­la­tion images online, all the way back to 1929,” says MoMA Dig­i­tal Media Direc­tor Shan­non Dar­rough in the video above. But since “those images did­n’t con­tain any infor­ma­tion about the actu­al works in them,” it pre­sent­ed the oppor­tu­ni­ty to use machine learn­ing to train a sys­tem to rec­og­nize the works on dis­play in the images, which, in the words of Google Arts and Cul­ture Lab’s Freya Mur­ray, “turned a repos­i­to­ry of images into a search­able archive.”

The for­mi­da­ble pho­to­graph­ic hold­ings of Life mag­a­zine, which doc­u­ment­ed human affairs with char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly vivid pho­to­jour­nal­ism for a big chunk of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, made for a sim­i­lar­ly entic­ing trove of machine-learn­able mate­r­i­al. “Life mag­a­zine is one of the most icon­ic pub­li­ca­tions in his­to­ry,” says Mur­ray in the video above. “Life Tags is an exper­i­ment that orga­nizes Life mag­a­zine’s archives into an inter­ac­tive ency­clo­pe­dia,” let­ting you browse by every tag from “Austin-Healey” to “Elec­tron­ics” to “Live­stock” to “Wrestling” and many more besides. Google’s invest­ment in arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence has made the his­to­ry of Life search­able. How much longer, one won­ders, before it makes the his­to­ry of life search­able?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Google’s Free App Ana­lyzes Your Self­ie and Then Finds Your Dop­pel­ganger in Muse­um Por­traits

Google Gives You a 360° View of the Per­form­ing Arts, From the Roy­al Shake­speare Com­pa­ny to the Paris Opera Bal­let

Google Art Project Expands, Bring­ing 30,000 Works of Art from 151 Muse­ums to the Web

Google Cre­ates a Dig­i­tal Archive of World Fash­ion: Fea­tures 30,000 Images, Cov­er­ing 3,000 Years of Fash­ion His­to­ry

Google Launch­es a Free Course on Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence: Sign Up for Its New “Machine Learn­ing Crash Course”

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

An Impressive Audio Archive of John Cage Lectures & Interviews: Hear Recordings from 1963–1991

His­to­ry has remem­bered John Cage as a com­pos­er, but to do jus­tice to his lega­cy one has to allow that title the widest pos­si­ble inter­pre­ta­tion. He did, of course, com­pose music: music that strikes the ears of many lis­ten­ers as quite uncon­ven­tion­al even today, more than a quar­ter-cen­tu­ry after his death, but rec­og­niz­able as music nonethe­less. He also com­posed with silence, an artis­tic choice that still intrigues peo­ple enough to get them tak­ing the plunge into his wider body of work, which also includes com­po­si­tions of words, many thou­sands of them writ­ten and many hours of them record­ed.

Ubuweb offers an impres­sive audio archive of Cage’s spo­ken word, begin­ning with mate­r­i­al from the 1960s and end­ing with a talk (embed­ded at the top of the post) he gave at the San Fran­cis­co Art Insti­tute in the penul­ti­mate year of his life. There he read a 30-minute piece called “One 7” con­sist­ing of “brief vocal­iza­tions inter­spersed with long peri­ods of silence” before tak­ing audi­ence ques­tions which “range from inquiries about the process by which Cage com­pos­es, his lack of inter­est in pleas­ing an audi­ence, his love of mush­rooms, Bud­dhism, chance oper­a­tions, and whether Cage can stand on his head.”

Turn the Cage clock back 28 years from there and we can hear a spir­it­ed 1963 con­ver­sa­tion between him and Jonathan Cott, the young music jour­nal­ist lat­er known for con­duct­ing John Lennon’s last inter­view. “At every turn Cott antag­o­nizes Cage with chal­leng­ing ques­tions,” says Ubuweb, adding that he mar­shals “quotes from numer­ous sources (includ­ing Nor­man Mail­er, Michael Stein­berg, Igor Stravin­sky and oth­ers) crit­i­ciz­ing Cage and his music.”

Cage, in char­ac­ter­is­tic response, “par­ries Cot­t’s thrusts with a ver­i­ta­ble tai chi prac­tice of music the­o­ry.” This con­trasts with the mood of Cage’s 1972 inter­view along­side pianist David Tudor embed­ded just above, pre­sent­ed in both Eng­lish and French and fea­tur­ing ref­er­ences to the work of Hen­ry David Thore­au and Mar­cel Duchamp.

Cage has more to say about Duchamp, and oth­er artists like Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschen­berg, in the undat­ed lec­ture clip from the archives of Paci­fi­ca Radio just above. Have a lis­ten through the rest of Ubuwe­b’s col­lec­tion and you’ll hear the mas­ter of silence speak volu­mi­nous­ly, if some­times cryp­ti­cal­ly, on such sub­jects as Zen Bud­dhism, anar­chism, utopia, the work of Buck­min­ster Fuller, and “the role of art and tech­nol­o­gy in mod­ern soci­ety.” The con­texts vary, both in the sense of time and place as well as in the sense of the per­for­ma­tive expec­ta­tions placed on Cage him­self. But even a sam­pling of the record­ings here sug­gests that being John Cage, in what­ev­er set­ting, con­sti­tut­ed a pro­duc­tive artis­tic project all its own.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Curi­ous Score for John Cage’s “Silent” Zen Com­po­si­tion 4’33”

How to Get Start­ed: John Cage’s Approach to Start­ing the Dif­fi­cult Cre­ative Process

Lis­ten to John Cage’s 5 Hour Art Piece: Diary: How To Improve The World (You Will Only Make Mat­ters Worse)

Avant-Garde Com­pos­er John Cage’s Sur­pris­ing Mush­room Obses­sion (Which Began with His Pover­ty in the Depres­sion)

Nota­tions: John Cage Pub­lish­es a Book of Graph­ic Musi­cal Scores, Fea­tur­ing Visu­al­iza­tions of Works by Leonard Bern­stein, Igor Stravin­sky, The Bea­t­les & More (1969)

Dis­cov­er the 1126 Books in John Cage’s Per­son­al Library: Fou­cault, Joyce, Wittgen­stein, Vir­ginia Woolf, Buck­min­ster Fuller & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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