Quarantined Italians Send a Message to Themselves 10 Days Ago: What They Wish They Knew Then

Coun­tries like the US, Eng­land, France, Spain and Ger­many are about 9–10 days behind in the COVID-19 pro­gres­sion. For our ben­e­fit, the video chan­nel called “A THING BY” asked Ital­ians to record a mes­sage they wish had heard 10 days pri­or. Let’s take care­ful note of what they have to say.

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!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Why You Should Read The Plague, the Albert Camus Nov­el the Coro­n­avirus Has Made a Best­seller Again

Free Cours­es on the Coro­n­avirus: What You Need to Know About the Emerg­ing Pan­dem­ic

Bill Gates Describes His Biggest Fear: “I Rate the Chance of a Wide­spread Epi­dem­ic Far Worse Than Ebo­la at Well Over 50 Per­cent” (2015)

Span­ish Flu: A Warn­ing from His­to­ry

 

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Zoom Providing K‑12 Schools Free Access to Videoconferencing Tools During COVID-19 Crisis: They’ll Power Your Online Courses

FYI: Zoom pro­vides a turnkey video con­fer­enc­ing solu­tion that’s high qual­i­ty and easy to use. And now uni­ver­si­ties across the coun­try use Zoom to pow­er their online cours­es. Today, Zoom announced that K‑12 schools can gain free access to Zoom dur­ing the COVID-19 cri­sis. Stu­dents or teach­ers can sign up here.

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 Forbes.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Schools Can Start Teach­ing Online in a Short Peri­od of Time: Free Tuto­ri­als from the Stan­ford Online High School

Cours­era Pro­vid­ing Free Access to Its Course Cat­a­log to Uni­ver­si­ties Impact­ed by COVID-19

Free Cours­es on the Coro­n­avirus: What You Need to Know About the Emerg­ing Pan­dem­ic

Bill Gates Describes His Biggest Fear: “I Rate the Chance of a Wide­spread Epi­dem­ic Far Worse Than Ebo­la at Well Over 50 Per­cent” (2015)

 

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Why You Should Read The Plague, the Albert Camus Novel the Coronavirus Has Made a Bestseller Again

The coro­n­avirus, fair to say, isn’t good for the econ­o­my: not for the economies of indi­vid­ual nations, and not for the world econ­o­my as a whole. But that’s not to say that every indus­try has tak­en a hit. This is hard­ly the worst time in his­to­ry to pro­duce and sell toi­let paper, for instance, nor to fur­nish the pack­ages of neces­si­ties demand­ed by “prep­pers” who fore­see the end of soci­ety as we know it. One prob­a­bly would­n’t wish to take the place of the mak­ers of Coro­na beer right now, but despite the now-unfor­tu­nate brand name, their sales, too, have stayed strong. And for pub­lish­ers around the world who have been con­sid­er­ing a reprint of Albert Camus’ La Peste, now is most assured­ly the time.

The Plague, as it’s titled in Eng­lish, “fol­lows the inhab­i­tants of Oran, an Alger­ian town that is sealed off by quar­an­tine as it is rav­aged by bubon­ic plague,” writes The Guardian’s Ali­son Flood. “Pen­guin is rush­ing through a reprint of its Eng­lish trans­la­tion to meet demand,” but last week stock had already sold out on Ama­zon.

The pub­lish­er added that sales in the last week of Feb­ru­ary were up by 150% on the same peri­od in 2019.” The nov­el has also become a best­seller in Italy — a coun­try espe­cial­ly hard hit by the virus — and sales “have also risen sharply in France, accord­ing to the French books sta­tis­tics web­site Edi­s­tat,” to the tune of “around 300% on the pre­vi­ous year.” I live in South Korea, one of the coun­tries most severe­ly hit by the coro­n­avirus, and recent­ly wrote an essay about read­ing The Plague here in the Los Ange­les Review of Books.

Though Camus tells a sto­ry set in real city and about a spe­cif­ic dis­ease, his lit­er­ary ren­der­ing of a com­mu­ni­ty iso­lat­ed and under invis­i­ble siege has the uni­ver­sal qual­i­ty of myth. Each main char­ac­ter — the tire­less doc­tor Rieux, the sui­ci­dal-turned-gre­gar­i­ous Cot­tard, the human­ist out­sider Tar­rou — exem­pli­fies a dif­fer­ent arc of indi­vid­ual reac­tion to the cri­sis. Even in Seoul I noticed cer­tain par­al­lels: Camus’ descrip­tion of the “com­mer­cial char­ac­ter of the town” and the work habits of its peo­ple, of the sud­den runs on par­tic­u­lar items thought to have pre­ven­ta­tive prop­er­ties (pep­per­mint lozenges, in the nov­el), of the fierce pub­lic attacks on the gov­ern­ment when­ev­er the strug­gle turns espe­cial­ly har­row­ing. Read­ers the world over will feel a grim sense of recog­ni­tion at the Oran author­i­ties’ unwill­ing­ness to call the plague a plague, due to “the usu­al taboo, of course; the pub­lic mustn’t be alarmed, that wouldn’t do at all.”

Camus wrote The Plague in 1947, five years after his best-known work The Stranger and just three years after the real Oran’s most recent out­break of the bubon­ic plague. (You can get a primer on Camus’ life, work, and reluc­tant­ly exis­ten­tial­ist phi­los­o­phy in the ani­mat­ed School of Life video above.) Like The Stranger, and like all great works of art, The Plague per­mits more than one inter­pre­ta­tion: J.M. Coet­zee sug­gests one read­ing of the nov­el “as being about what the French called ‘the brown plague’ of the Ger­man occu­pa­tion, and more gen­er­al­ly as about the ease with which a com­mu­ni­ty can be infect­ed by a bacil­lus-like ide­ol­o­gy.” But each era has its own read­ing of The Plague — in the year 2003, for instance, crit­ic Mari­na Warn­er offered it up as a “study in ter­ror­ism” — and of all its read­ers and re-read­ers in this his­tor­i­cal moment, how many could resist an entire­ly more lit­er­al inter­pre­ta­tion?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The His­to­ry of the Plague: Every Major Epi­dem­ic in an Ani­mat­ed Map

Free Cours­es on the Coro­n­avirus: What You Need to Know About the Emerg­ing Pan­dem­ic

The Absurd Phi­los­o­phy of Albert Camus Pre­sent­ed in a Short Ani­mat­ed Film by Alain De Bot­ton

See Albert Camus’ His­toric Lec­ture, “The Human Cri­sis,” Per­formed by Actor Vig­go Mortensen

Albert Camus Explains Why Hap­pi­ness Is Like Com­mit­ting a Crime—”You Should Nev­er Admit to it” (1959)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, 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.

Covering Robert Johnson’s Blues Became a Rite of Rock ‘n’ Roll Passage: Hear Covers by The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Howlin’ Wolf, Lucinda Williams & More

Amer­i­can rock and roll orig­i­nat­ed from all cor­ners of the coun­try in the 1940s and 50s: from the exu­ber­ant gospel of the south, rol­lick­ing west­ern swing of Texas, lean elec­tric blues of Chica­go, fast-paced Chi­cano music of L.A…. Tru­ly a cul­tur­al melt­ing pot, it rep­re­sent­ed the U.S to itself, ampli­fy­ing and inten­si­fy­ing con­tem­po­rary trends that con­tin­ued right along­side the upstart new genre. But along with the deaths, arrests, and army stints of the music’s most famous stars at the end of the 50s, rock’s first wave suf­fered from a kind of cre­ative fatigue, seem­ing to have done all it could with its source mate­r­i­al.

British musi­cians who fell in love with Elvis and Lit­tle Richard saw a need to revi­tal­ize the music by reach­ing back to old­er forms—to the influ­ences of rock and roll’s influ­ences, most from the Amer­i­can South. First came skif­fle, a jazz-blues-folk fusion born in the ear­ly-20th cen­tu­ry U.S. It launched the careers of The Bea­t­les and became huge in its own right as a pop­u­lar British folk form of the 50s. Then came the mas­sive influ­ence of the Mis­sis­sip­pi Delta blues, which gave The Rolling Stones, and vir­tu­al­ly every band fea­tur­ing Jeff Beck, Eric Clap­ton, or Jim­my Page, a rea­son for being.

Among Delta Blues play­ers, no one con­tributed more to British inva­sion bands and the blues-rock explo­sion in the U.S. than Robert John­son, the leg­endary Mis­sis­sip­pi blues­man who is said to have trad­ed his soul for his tal­ent. Johnson’s evo­lu­tion from rel­a­tive obscu­ri­ty in his life­time to rock’s most revered ances­tor in death is the sto­ry of the music’s rebirth. As Kei­th Richards put it:

To me Robert Johnson’s influence—he was like a comet or a mete­or that came along and, BOOM, sud­den­ly he raised the ante, sud­den­ly you just had to aim that much high­er. You can put the record on now, and it’s a fresh and inter­est­ing as the first day you heard it.

Nev­er mind that John­son died five years before Richards was born. For the gen­er­a­tion just dis­cov­er­ing him, the blues­man was a brand-new epiphany. All of them returned the favor, giv­ing Johnson’s name immor­tal fame and cov­er­ing his songs. How do their ver­sions stack up against the orig­i­nals? Com­pare for your­self in some clas­sic exam­ples here. At the top, see the Stones play “Love in Vain” live in Texas in 1972, and below them, hear Johnson’s record­ed ver­sion.


Clap­ton leaned even more heav­i­ly on Johnson’s style than Kei­th Richards, turn­ing Johnson’s icon­ic “Cross­roads” into his own sig­na­ture blues. Fur­ther up, see Clap­ton play “Ram­bling on My Mind” at Madi­son Square Gar­den in 2008. Just above, hear Johnson’s 1936 record­ing. The tra­di­tion of cov­er­ing John­son didn’t start or end with clas­sic rock stars, of course. “Long before white British kids dis­cov­ered him,” writes Stephen Deusner at Paste, “old­er black blues­men were play­ing the hell out of Robert Johnson’s tunes, chief among them Howl­in’ Wolf.” See Howl­in’ Wolf, anoth­er hero of the Rolling Stones, play “Dust My Broom” below with his killer elec­tric band.


Still, it took white musi­cians to bring Johnson’s music to white audi­ences out­side of blues fan­dom, just as it took Clapton’s cov­er of “I Shot the Sher­iff” to help Bob Mar­ley cross over. After Cream, the Stones, the Yard­birds, etc., it became fash­ion­able for every­one to cov­er Johnson’s songs, almost as a rite of rock and roll pas­sage.

Lucin­da Williams record­ed a take of “Ram­bling on My Mind” for her debut album in 1979, Coun­try-blues punks Gun Club released their man­ic, unhinged ver­sion of Johnson’s “Preach­ing the Blues” on their 1980 debut. The list of explic­it­ly Robert John­son-influ­enced musi­cians goes on and on, dwarfed by the list of musi­cians indi­rect­ly influ­enced by him. Hear the 10 best Robert John­son cov­ers, accord­ing to Deusner, at least, at Paste, and find all of Johnson’s orig­i­nal record­ings for com­par­i­son here.


Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Sto­ry of Blues­man Robert Johnson’s Famous Deal With the Dev­il Retold in Three Ani­ma­tions

Kei­th Richards Wax­es Philo­soph­i­cal, Plays Live with His Idol, the Great Mud­dy Waters

Robert John­son Final­ly Gets an Obit­u­ary in The New York Times 81 Years After His Death

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

Coursera Providing Free Access to Its Course Catalog to Universities Impacted by COVID-19

FYI: If you work in a uni­ver­si­ty impact­ed by COVID-19, Cours­era invites you to lever­age their course cat­a­logue. The com­pa­ny’s CEO writes:

The spread of the coro­n­avirus (COVID-19) is the most seri­ous glob­al health secu­ri­ty threat in decades. In many coun­tries, restric­tions imposed by gov­ern­ment agen­cies have dis­rupt­ed dai­ly rou­tines for mil­lions, includ­ing stu­dents. Many uni­ver­si­ties in the impact­ed regions have sus­pend­ed face-to-face sem­i­nars, closed cam­pus­es, and are scram­bling to find a solu­tion to min­i­mize dis­rup­tion for their stu­dents.

We are for­tu­nate to have uni­ver­si­ty and indus­try part­ners, who have been at the fore­front of respond­ing to the chal­lenges human­i­ty has faced from time to time. Inspired by their sup­port and con­sis­tent with our mis­sion of serv­ing learn­ers every­where, we are launch­ing a glob­al effort to assist uni­ver­si­ties and col­leges seek­ing to offer online course­ware in response to the coro­n­avirus.

Start­ing today, we’ll pro­vide every impact­ed uni­ver­si­ty in the world with free access to our course cat­a­logue through Cours­era for Cam­pus. Uni­ver­si­ties can sign up to pro­vide their enrolled stu­dents with access to more than 3,800 cours­es and 400 Spe­cial­iza­tions from Coursera’s top uni­ver­si­ty and indus­try part­ners. These insti­tu­tions will have access until July 31, 2020, after which we plan to pro­vide month-to-month exten­sions depend­ing on pre­vail­ing risk assess­ments. Stu­dents who enroll on or before July 31 will con­tin­ue to have access until Sept. 30, 2020.

Over the past few weeks, Duke Uni­ver­si­ty has been using Cours­era for Cam­pus to serve impact­ed stu­dents at their Duke Kun­shan cam­pus in Chi­na. This effort has been swift­ly adopt­ed by stu­dents and wide­ly rec­og­nized by the broad­er com­mu­ni­ty. We believe that Cours­era for Cam­pus can be an effec­tive resource to help all high­er edu­ca­tion insti­tu­tions respond to the impact of coro­n­avirus.

As a glob­al com­mu­ni­ty of edu­ca­tors, we are hon­ored to be serv­ing fel­low insti­tu­tions and stu­dent com­mu­ni­ties dur­ing this cri­sis. Over the next few days, we will also hold webi­na­rs and share more resources, includ­ing expe­ri­ences from our part­ner com­mu­ni­ty, to help insti­tu­tions look­ing to tran­si­tion online dur­ing this cri­sis. Stay tuned.

Sign up for Cours­er­a’s Coro­n­avirus pro­gram here.

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!

Spanish Flu: A Warning from History

Two years ago his­to­ri­ans marked the 100th anniver­sary of the Span­ish Flu, a world­wide pan­dem­ic that seemed to be dis­ap­pear­ing down the mem­o­ry hole. Not so fast, said his­to­ri­ans, we need to remem­ber the hor­ror. Hap­py belat­ed anniver­sary, said 2020, hold my beer. And so here we are. As I write this, the Pres­i­dent wheezed through an Address to the Nation which calmed no fears and sent Dow futures tum­bling. I scrolled down my news feed to see that Tom Han­ks and his wife both have it. Our god is an amoral one, and its nood­ly appendages touch all.

So let’s put our cur­rent moment into per­spec­tive with this 10+ minute his­to­ry on the Span­ish Flu from Cam­bridge Uni­ver­si­ty. Here are the num­bers: it killed 20 mil­lion peo­ple accord­ing to con­tem­po­rary accounts. Lat­er sci­en­tists and his­to­ri­ans revised that num­ber to some­where between 50 to 100 mil­lion.

“This virus killed more peo­ple in the first 25 weeks than HIV/AIDS has killed in 25 years,” says histo­ri­an of med­i­cine Dr. Mary Dob­son. And unlike our cur­rent COVID-19 strain, this strain of flu went after 20 to 40 year olds with a vengeance. The symp­toms were graph­ic and unpleasant–people drown­ing in their own phlegm, blood shoot­ing out of noses and ears, peo­ple drop­ping down dead in the street.

Where did it start? Cer­tain­ly not in Spain–it gained that nick­name because the first cas­es were record­ed in the Span­ish press. One the­o­ry is that it start­ed in Kansas and found its way over­seas, from bar­racks to the front­lines. It might has come from birds or pigs, but sci­en­tists still don’t know how it jumps from species to species and how it quick­ly evolves with­in humans to infect each oth­er.

Right now, it seems like COVID-19 can sub­side if coun­tries can work quick­ly, like in Chi­na. But his­to­ry has a warn­ing too. As Europe and Amer­i­ca cel­e­brat­ed Armistice Day at the end of the war, the flu seemed to be going away too. Instead it came roar­ing back in a sec­ond wave, dead­lier than the first.

Some famous folks who got the virus but sur­vived includ­ed movie stars Lil­lian Gish and Mary Pick­ford, right at the height of their fame; Pres­i­dent Woodrow Wil­son, who was so out of it (though recov­er­ing) that some his­to­ri­ans blame the weak­ness­es in the Treaty of Ver­sailles on him. Artist Edvard Munch con­tract­ed it (which seems fit­ting, con­sid­er­ing his obses­sions) and paint­ed sev­er­al self-por­traits dur­ing his ill­ness. Ray­mond Chan­dler, Walt Dis­ney, Gre­ta Gar­bo, Franz Kaf­ka, Geor­gia O’Keeffe, and Kather­ine Anne Porter all sur­vived.

Oth­ers weren’t so lucky: painter of sen­su­ous, gold leaf paint­ings Gus­tav Klimt died from it, as did poet and pro­to-sur­re­al­ist Guil­laume Apol­li­naire, and artist Egon Schiele. (And so did Don­ald Trump’s grand­pa).

The Span­ish Flu nev­er real­ly went away. There were still cas­es in the ‘50s, but we humans evolved with it and it became a sea­son­al type of flu like many oth­ers. Flu virus­es con­stant­ly evolve and mutate, and that’s why it is very dif­fi­cult to cre­ate vac­cines that can stop them.

If you’ve read this far, one last thing: GO WASH YOUR HANDS AND STOP TOUCHING YOUR FACE!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bill Gates Describes His Biggest Fear: “I Rate the Chance of a Wide­spread Epi­dem­ic Far Worse Than Ebo­la at Well Over 50 Per­cent” (2015)

Hear the Sounds of World War I: A Gas Attack Record­ed on the Front Line, and the Moment the Armistice End­ed the War

Peter Jackson’s New Film on World War I Fea­tures Incred­i­ble Dig­i­tal­ly-Restored Footage From the Front Lines: Get a Glimpse

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the artist inter­view-based FunkZone Pod­cast and is the pro­duc­er of KCR­W’s Curi­ous Coast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

The Meaning of Life According to Simone de Beauvoir

When some­one pre­sumes to explain the mean­ing of life, they usu­al­ly draw, how­ev­er vague­ly, on reli­gion. Many a philoso­pher has ven­tured a sec­u­lar answer, but it’s hard to com­pete with the ancient sto­ries of the world’s major faiths. The rich­ness of their metaphors sur­pass­es his­tor­i­cal truth; humans, it seems, real­ly “can­not bear very much real­i­ty,” as T.S. Eliot wrote in the Four Quar­tets. Maybe we need sto­ries to keep us going, which is why we love Pla­to, whose myth of the ori­gins of love in his novel­la, the Sym­po­sium, remains one of the most mov­ing in the West­ern philo­soph­i­cal canon.

Pla­to’s philo­soph­i­cal project was a sto­ry that exis­ten­tial­ists like Simone de Beau­voir were eager to be rid of, along with the hoary old myths of reli­gion. The Athe­ni­an’s pious ide­al­ism “dis­missed the phys­i­cal world as a flawed reflec­tion of high­er truth and unchang­ing ideals,” says Iseult Gille­spie in the TED-Ed video above. “But for de Beau­voir, ear­ly life was enthralling, sen­su­al, and any­thing but sta­t­ic.” Mate­r­i­al real­i­ty is not an imper­fect copy, but the medi­um into which we are thrown, to exer­cise free­dom and respon­si­bil­i­ty and deter­mine our own pur­pos­es, as de Beau­voir argued in The Ethics of Ambi­gu­i­ty.

For de Beau­voir, as for her part­ner Jean-Paul Sartre, the “eth­i­cal imper­a­tive to cre­ate our own life’s mean­ing,” pre­cedes any pre-exist­ing mean­ing to which we might attach our­selves, and which might lead us to deny free­dom to oth­ers. “A free­dom which is inter­est­ed only in deny­ing free­dom,” she wrote, “must be denied.” We might think of such a state­ment in terms of Karl Popper’s para­dox of intol­er­ance, but the idea led de Beau­voir in a dif­fer­ent direction—away from the lib­er­al­ism Pop­per defend­ed and in a more rad­i­cal philo­soph­i­cal direc­tion.

De Beauvoir’s exis­ten­tial­ist fem­i­nism asked fun­da­men­tal ques­tions about the giv­en cat­e­gories of social iden­ti­ty that lock us into pre­fig­ured roles and shape our lives with­out our con­sent or con­trol. She real­ized that social con­struc­tions of womanhood—not a Pla­ton­ic ide­al but a his­tor­i­cal production—restricted her from ful­ly real­iz­ing her cho­sen life’s mean­ing. “Despite her pro­lif­ic writ­ing, teach­ing, and activism, de Beau­voir strug­gled to be tak­en seri­ous­ly by her male peers.” This was not only a polit­i­cal prob­lem, it was also an exis­ten­tial one.

As de Beau­voir would argue in The Sec­ond Sex, cat­e­gories of gen­der turned women into “others”—imperfect copies of men, who are con­strued as the ide­al. Lat­er the­o­rists took up the cri­tique to show how race, sex­u­al­i­ty, class, and oth­er sto­ries about human iden­ti­ty restrict the abil­i­ty of indi­vid­u­als to deter­mine their lives’ mean­ing. Instead, we find our­selves pre­sent­ed with social nar­ra­tives that explain our exis­tence to us and tell us what we can hope to accom­plish and what we can­not.

De Beau­voir was also a sto­ry­teller. Her per­son­al expe­ri­ences fig­ured cen­tral­ly in her phi­los­o­phy; she pub­lished sev­er­al acclaimed nov­els, and along with Nobel-win­ning nov­el­ists and play­wrights Sartre and Albert Camus, made Exis­ten­tial­ism the most lit­er­ary of philo­soph­i­cal move­ments. But when it came to grand abstrac­tions like the “mean­ing of life,” the answer all of them gave in their philo­soph­i­cal work was that such things aren’t hov­er­ing above us like Pla­to’s ide­al forms. Each of us must fig­ure it out our­selves with­in our flawed, imper­fect, indi­vid­ual lives.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to the Fem­i­nist Phi­los­o­phy of Simone de Beau­voir

Simone de Beau­voir Defends Exis­ten­tial­ism & Her Fem­i­nist Mas­ter­piece, The Sec­ond Sex, in Rare 1959 TV Inter­view

Simone de Beau­voir Tells Studs Terkel How She Became an Intel­lec­tu­al and a Fem­i­nist (1960)

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

The History of the Plague: Every Major Epidemic in an Animated Map

All of us have tried to come to grips with the coro­n­avirus in dif­fer­ent ways. Here on Open Cul­ture we’ve fea­tured online cours­es to get you con­ver­sant in the sci­ence around the pan­dem­ic, but read­ers of this site will also have sought out the most per­ti­nent works of his­to­ry and lit­er­a­ture. That goes espe­cial­ly for those in need of read­ing mate­r­i­al while in states of quar­an­tine or lock­down (self-imposed or oth­er­wise), and any list of rec­om­mend­ed books must include Daniel Defoe’s A Jour­nal of the Plague Year and Albert Camus’ The Plague. (I recent­ly wrote about the expe­ri­ence of read­ing that last in Korea, where I live, for the Los Ange­les Review of Books.) Both fic­tion­al­ize local out­breaks of the bubon­ic plague, but how far and wide did that hor­rif­ic and much-mythol­o­gized dis­ease actu­al­ly spread?

You can see exact­ly how far and wide in the ani­mat­ed his­tor­i­cal map above, cre­at­ed by a Youtu­ber called Emper­or­Tiger­star. It main­ly cov­ers the peri­od of 431 BC to 1353 AD, dur­ing most of which the plague looks to have occurred in Europe, the Mid­dle East, and Africa with some reg­u­lar­i­ty. Up until the 1330s, the out­breaks stay small enough that you may have to view the map in fullscreen mode to ensure that you even see them.

But even the most casu­al stu­dents of his­to­ry know what hap­pened next: the best-known occur­rence of the Black Death, whose peak last­ed from 1347 to 1351 and which claimed some­where between 75 to 200 mil­lion lives (includ­ing rough­ly half of Europe’s entire pop­u­la­tion). Ren­dered, suit­ably, in black, the plague’s spread comes even­tu­al­ly to look on the map like a sea of ink splashed vio­lent­ly across mul­ti­ple con­ti­nents.

The plague hard­ly died with the 1350s, a fact this map acknowl­edges. It would, writes Emper­or­Tiger­star, “take years to go away, and even then there would be local out­breaks in indi­vid­ual cities for cen­turies.” These Black Death after­shocks, “big in their own right,” include the Great Plague of Milan in the 1630s, the Great Plague of Seville in the 1640s, and the Great Plague of Lon­don in the 1660s — the sub­ject of Defoe’s nov­el. When Camus wrote The Plague in 1947, the Alger­ian city of Oran in which he set its sto­ry had expe­ri­enced its last out­break of the dis­ease just three years before (at least the fifth such expe­ri­ence in its his­to­ry). Though har­row­ing sto­ries are even now com­ing out of places like mod­ern-day Milan, the coro­n­avirus has yet to match the grue­some dead­li­ness of the plagues fea­tured in either of these books. But unless we under­stand how epi­demics afflict­ed human­i­ty in the past, we can hard­ly han­dle them prop­er­ly in the present.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Cours­es on the Coro­n­avirus: What You Need to Know About the Emerg­ing Pan­dem­ic

Bill Gates Describes His Biggest Fear: “I Rate the Chance of a Wide­spread Epi­dem­ic Far Worse Than Ebo­la at Well Over 50 Per­cent” (2015)

The 1855 Map That Rev­o­lu­tion­ized Dis­ease Pre­ven­tion & Data Visu­al­iza­tion: Dis­cov­er John Snow’s Broad Street Pump Map

The Strange Danc­ing Plague of 1518: When Hun­dreds of Peo­ple in France Could Not Stop Danc­ing for Months

200,000 Years of Stag­ger­ing Human Pop­u­la­tion Growth Shown in an Ani­mat­ed Map

Ani­mat­ed Map Shows How the Five Major Reli­gions Spread Across the World (3000 BC – 2000 AD)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, 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.

How Schools Can Start Teaching Online in a Short Period of Time: Free Tutorials from the Stanford Online High School

Image by King of Hearts, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

A quick note: The Stan­ford Online High School–an inde­pen­dent high school that oper­ates ful­ly online–has cre­at­ed video tuto­ri­als designed for schools that may need to close class­rooms and piv­ot online. “All guid­ance is plat­form-agnos­tic, focus­ing on the essen­tial steps for prepar­ing to teach online in a short peri­od of time.”

In addi­tion to this videos, the Online High School will host a free webi­nar today at 2pm Cal­i­for­nia time. You can reg­is­ter here and learn more about the tran­si­tion to online teach­ing.

Note: Zoom–which pro­vides a turnkey video con­fer­enc­ing solu­tion–has made its prod­uct free for K‑12 insti­tu­tions dur­ing the COVID-19 cri­sis. This can help schools spin up online cours­es quick­ly. More on that here.

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!

 

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Bill Gates Describes His Biggest Fear: “I Rate the Chance of a Widespread Epidemic Far Worse Than Ebola at Well Over 50 Percent” (2015)

What are bil­lion­aires afraid of? A wealth tax? Uni­ver­sal health­care? Immi­grants from sev­er­al spe­cif­ic places in the world? Prob­a­bly. But if you ask one bil­lion­aire, Bill Gates—who has spent the last sev­er­al years spend­ing mon­ey to com­bat dead­ly epidemics—he’ll answer with a very detailed descrip­tion of a glob­al threat to every­one, not just the hand­ful of peo­ple in his (un)tax(ed) brack­et: Pan­demics like the 1918 Span­ish flu, as he told Vox’s Ezra Klein in the 2015 video inter­view above. The dis­ease infect­ed around 27 per­cent of the world’s pop­u­la­tion and killed tens of mil­lions of peo­ple from every social class.

Such events are high­ly prob­a­ble, and we should be pre­pared for them. “I rate the chance of a wide­spread epi­dem­ic far worse than Ebo­la in my life­time at well over 50 per­cent,” he says. In fact, Gates met with the pres­i­dent two years ago to urge fed­er­al action on pan­dem­ic pre­pared­ness. He was heard and ignored.

Now, as the CDC faces the spread of coro­n­avirus in major cities around the coun­try, it finds itself woe­ful­ly unpre­pared for the task. “The truth is we’ve not invest­ed, we’ve under­in­vest­ed in the pub­lic health labs,” direc­tor Robert Red­field told Con­gress in recent hear­ings. “There’s not enough equip­ment, there’s not enough peo­ple, there’s not enough inter­nal capac­i­ty….”

The sit­u­a­tion looks bleak, but Gates was “opti­mistic” despite his pre­dic­tions. And why shouldn’t he be? Klein wrote: “He’s one of the rich­est men in the world,” and he also “runs a foun­da­tion immersed in the world’s prob­lems” and “can mea­sure them get­ting bet­ter.” But a dead­ly pan­dem­ic remains “the most pre­dictable cat­a­stro­phe in the his­to­ry of the human race,” writes Klein. Maybe Gates should have urged the gov­ern­ment to pre­pare by explain­ing how it would boost the oil and hotel indus­tries.

For those who can be per­suad­ed by evi­dence of a pos­si­ble pandemic’s effect on human lives, Gates mod­eled how a dis­ease as dead­ly and infec­tious as the Span­ish flu would act today. “With­in 60 days it’s basi­cal­ly in all urban cen­ters around the entire globe,” he says. “That didn’t hap­pen with the Span­ish flu.” He explains fur­ther in the TED talk above how the “great­est risk of glob­al cat­a­stro­phe” doesn’t look like a mush­room cloud but like the spiky micro­scop­ic ball of the influen­za virus, or its equiv­a­lent. That may not be COVID-19, but what­ev­er it is, Gates has been warn­ing for years, we are not ready.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Inter­ac­tive Web Site Tracks the Glob­al Spread of the Coro­n­avirus: Cre­at­ed and Sup­port­ed by Johns Hop­kins

How to Pro­tect Your­self Against COVID-19/­Coro­n­avirus

Chi­nese Muse­ums, Closed by the Coro­n­avirus, Put Their Exhi­bi­tions Online

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

Take a Drive Through 1940s, 50s & 60s Los Angeles with Vintage Through-the-Car-Window Films

Many claim Los Ange­les was “built for the car,” a half-truth at best. When the city — or rather, the city and the vast region of south­ern Cal­i­for­nia sur­round­ing it — first boomed in the late 19th and ear­ly 20th cen­tu­ry, it grew accord­ing to the spread of its elec­tric rail­way net­works. But for ear­ly adopters of the auto­mo­bile (as well as the many aspi­rants close behind), its sheer size, eas­i­ly nav­i­ga­ble ter­rain, and still-low pop­u­la­tion den­si­ty made greater Los Ange­les an ide­al place to dri­ve.

After the Sec­ond World War, the days of the Pacif­ic Elec­tric and Los Ange­les Rail­road, once among the finest urban rail sys­tems in the world, were clear­ly num­bered. Both went out of ser­vice by the ear­ly 1960s, and for the next few decades the car was indeed king. One the­o­ry holds, though with imper­fect evi­dence, that Los Ange­les lost its trains because of an automak­ers’ con­spir­a­cy.

What­ev­er the cause, the long hey­day of the auto­mo­bile and its atten­dant “car cul­ture” changed mid-20th-cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. It left its bold­est mark in the city’s archi­tec­ture, a cat­e­go­ry that must sure­ly include the swoop­ing con­crete of the free­ways, but more obvi­ous­ly includes the build­ings designed to catch the eye of a human being behind the wheel cruis­ing at speed. We notice at a dif­fer­ent scale in a car than we do on foot, and so the struc­tures along Los Ange­les’ main roads — espe­cial­ly boule­vards like Wilshire, Hol­ly­wood, and Sun­set — grew more leg­i­ble to the motorist in the sec­ond half of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry.

That means Los Ange­les’ archi­tec­ture grew ever big­ger, bold­er, more eye-catch­ing — or, depend­ing on your per­spec­tive, ever more gar­ish, ungain­ly, and imper­son­al. You can see this trans­for­ma­tion cap­tured in action from the car win­dow in the three videos fea­tured here. At the top of the post is a six-minute dri­ve through the down­town Los Ange­les of the 1940s, which begins on Bunker Hill, an area orig­i­nal­ly built up with state­ly Vic­to­ri­an hous­es in the late 19th cen­tu­ry. 

By the time of this film those hous­es had been sub­di­vid­ed into cheap apart­ments, and films noirs (such as Robert Aldrich’s Kiss Me Dead­ly) were using it as a typ­i­cal “bad neigh­bor­hood.” That atmos­phere also made it a tar­get for a 50-year “urban renew­al” project that, start­ing in the late 50s onward, scraped the hous­es off Bunker Hill and rebuilt it with cor­po­rate tow­ers and pres­tige cul­tur­al venues.

A through-the-wind­shield view of Los Ange­les in the 50s appears in the video sec­ond from the top, a 1957 dri­ve down Hol­ly­wood Boule­vard. That street and that year stand at the inter­sec­tion of pre-war and post-war Los Ange­les, and the built envi­ron­ment reflects as much the sen­si­bil­i­ty of the turn of the 20th cen­tu­ry as it does what we know think of as “mid-cen­tu­ry mod­ern.”

Below that we have a dri­ve through the city so many think of when they think of Los Ange­les: the Los Ange­les of the 1960s, a seem­ing­ly lim­it­less realm of palm trees, bright­ly col­ored bill­boards, and Space Age-influ­enced tow­ers that pop out even more from their low-slung sur­round­ings when seen from the free­way — in oth­er words, the Los Ange­les Quentin Taran­ti­no recre­ates in Once Upon a Time… in Hol­ly­wood.

To get a sense of the greater sweep of change in Los Ange­les, have a look at the New York­er video above (pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture) that puts the down­town dri­ve from the 1940s along­side the same dri­ve repli­cat­ed in the 2010s. Pop­u­lar cul­ture may asso­ciate Los Ange­les with the will­ful era­sure of his­to­ry as much as it asso­ciates Los Ange­les with the auto­mo­bile, but traces are there for those — in a car, on foot, on a bike, or going by any form of trans­porta­tion besides — who know how to see them.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Amer­i­can Cities Then & Now: See How New York, Los Ange­les & Detroit Look Today, Com­pared to the 1930s and 1940s

Enjoy Daz­zling & Dizzy­ing 360° Vir­tu­al Tours of Los Ange­les Land­marks

The City in Cin­e­ma Mini-Doc­u­men­taries Reveal the Los Ange­les of Blade Run­ner, Her, Dri­ve, Repo Man, and More

Watch Randy Newman’s Tour of Los Ange­les’ Sun­set Boule­vard, and You’ll Love L.A. Too

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, 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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