I've been remiss in discussing my summer reading on this blog, but I just finished a rather unusual book that definitely warrants a mention: The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death. I encountered a fleeting reference to the studies in an interview recently, and immediately sought out this book, from 2004, which documents these macabre dollhouses and Frances Glessner Lee, who created them.

Basically, the Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death are a series of dioramas, meticulously created dollhouses which capture the initial state of repose of various people, whom have dropped dead under mysterious circumstances. All are based on reality to some degree, with most being a composite of several police investigations. Lee created these studies as an educational tool, to train first responders on how to observe, preserve and evaluate a crime scene; the goal of the studies is not necessarily to solve the crime, but to determine what evidence at the scene is pertinent, and what further tests should be performed by the medical examiner. Lee was an early proponent of what was then called legal medicine, and advocated for the creation of medical examiners offices (at the time, many coroners, appointed by patronage, had no medical training).

The book opens with an interesting essay about Lee and the studies, and about the gender and class politics under which Lee lived. But the bulk of the book is dedicated to depicting the studies, through descriptions, line drawing, and lots of pictures. Rather than being strictly representational, the photos take a more expressionistic approach, capturing the tension between the innocence of the form and the violence of the content, and the hope depicted externally in many of the studies through windows and paintings depicting more idyllic environs, a hope the victim, dead in their often squalid homes, failed to reach. And while there are disturbing photos of dolls having reached their grisly ends, most of the photos focus on the incidental details of their homes, the banal belongings that define a time and place, and ultimately, a life. Corrine May Botz, the author and photographer responsible for this volume, quotes Paul Auster regarding the objects of a dead man: "They are there and yet not there: tangible ghosts, condemned to survive in a world they no longer belong to. What is one to think, for example, of a closetful of clothes waiting silently to be worn again by a man who will not be coming back to open the door?" The preserved remnants of a life snuffed out are often more unsettling than the (admittedly creepy) dead dolls.

The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death would appeal to those whose interests run towards the macabre or the morbid, but it is not limited in its appeal to that audience. While the studies are not strictly speaking mysteries to be wrapped up neatly (though there is a general solution to the studies, since they are still used as a training tool, the solution to all but a handful of the studies is not provided--in general, the solutions are not too terribly hard to fathom, though the kitchen vignette really confounds me), fans of detective fiction and true crime should appreciate this book. And the story of Frances Glessner Lee, a woman whose ambitions were suppressed by the expectations for her gender and the heavy burden her wealthy family imposed upon her, offers interesting insights into the options available to upper-class women in the early twentieth century.

The book's Amazon page has some photos, and you can also see some photos and learn more from articles from American Medical News and 2wice (the former, written well before the publication of the book, has original photos, and more importantly, solutions not offered in the book).

A New York Times guest op-ed piece makes a stunning observation: Anyone notice this new coffee company called Starbucks? Apparently, if you want cream and sugar in your coffee, you put it in yourself. And they actually expect you to wait in line. I do believe I have the vapers just thinking about it! Slate has nominated Andy Rooney Stanley Fish as the author of the worst Op-Ed ever written, noting the disturbing undercurrent to his cluelessness:

One wants to feel sympathy for professor Fish in his distress. But although most of the unintentional humor in professor Fish's column comes from his comic cluelessness about things he thinks are "new" in the culture, this note of entitlement gives it a kind of nasty edge.

He concedes toward the close of his column: "[N]one of us has chosen to take over the jobs of those we pay to serve us."

Is it just me, or is there something grating in that phrase: "those we pay to serve us"? So distasteful, the life of the servant class, compared with the life of the mind.

Sonos, Sirius make deal to stream satellite radio throughout your home. I'm not a satellite radio subscriber, but I've looked at Sonos before. Nice service, but a bit expensive. Reasonably priced if you have a need for the service, a larger house with several people listening to different music, but for my personal need, it's not worth the price. But this caught my attention enough to read the article, and see that the "service" costs subscribers an extra $2.99 a month. Gee, I'm paying you $12.95 to listen to your music, and now, for only $3 more, I get the option of listening to select stations, in my home? Wow! What a crazy idea!

I remember when satellite radio came out, I thought it was going to be so revolutionary. Then the iPod revolution made it pretty much irrelevant. Yet they seem to think they can follow a cell phone business model, charging extra for random services that should be free. If I were a subscriber and was told I could pay extra for this "service," it seems like the sort of thing that would lead me to cancel my service in a pique. Boo, Sirius.

Now that I've written this, I actually went to the Sirius page, and realized the $3 fee isn't specifically for Sonos support, but for internet streaming in general; Sirius charges subscribers to listen online, through Sonos or through their own computer. Which seems even worse, in my opinion. Of course, that means their existing subscribers don't seem to mind, but considering Sirius is basically arguing that, without their proposed merger with XM, they cannot continue as a going concern, maybe they should wonder if incidental fees like this are scaring people away from the concept of satellite radio.

Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert may testify in YouTube lawsuit. The article says the exact purpose is unclear, but there are two obvious reasons they may be called. Most obviously, they both appeared on YouTube in spades, until their corporate overlords had them removed. But also, both of their respective programs rely heavily on "fair use" to ridicule the newsmakers and the news media. Though since I think Google's defense relies more on safe harbor provisions of the DMCA, rather than fair use, I'd guess they want the comedians to testify about how YouTube exposure benefited them both.

Or perhaps they'll be asked to testify about how, now that they're clips are available from Comedy Central's Motherload site, rather than YouTube, trying to watch them online is an infuriating process that causes their fans to die a little inside every day. For God's sake, content providers, learn from the music industry and make a deal with YouTube now.

In case you think the debate over net neutrality is purely theoretical, you should know that British ISPs are demanding payouts from the BBC, lest they throttle their new video service.

UPDATE: Also, much as been made by net neutrality advocates of Pearl Jam's censorship at the hands of AT&T. It turns out, they're not the only ones.

Court rules Novell owns Unix copyright, effectively putting an end to SCO Group's legal threats to Linux and Linux users. I don't use Linux personally, but am glad this ridiculous case is finally over (though SCO Group, showing the strong grip on reality they've always possessed, claim things are just peachy). If SCO Group hasn't filed for bankruptcy by the end of the month, I'd be surprised.

The cases against three New Orleans doctors charged with murder have been closed, after the grand jury refused to indict. I thank the grand jury for standing up against this ridiculous prosecution, and hope the civil suits facing the doctors are similarly dropped. As I've said before, if their was a crime here, it was abandoning the patients for weeks without food or water, not administering a drug, and as far as I can tell, the people charged were the caregivers, not those in charge of administering the evacuation. I'm glad the doctors no longer need to fear the criminal case.

Merv Griffin, dead at 82. If I were an editorial cartoonist for a medium-sized midwestern paper, I would be taking to my drafting table, and coming up with some conversation between St. Peter and Mr. Griffin, in which his heirs lose their inheritance when Griffin fails to respond to St. Peter in the form of a question. But sadly, I lack the quick wit to come up with the snappy dialogue such a cartoon hinges upon.

I apologize for the delay in updating the Wii/Jenga Confluence News of the Week (WJCNotW) feature, but I'd been waiting until I had more to report (one article does not a round-up make). But for now, this is all I got:

Physics nerfed for Jenga.

Consider that one more giant flashing red warning light over the Wii-Jenga enterprise. Of course, it could be that the physics aren't so nerfed as the blocks are hella heavy. Like steel girders. Maybe in the fantasy land of the Wii, the limits of our puny human muscles are no longer relevant, and Jegna Tower can rise high and strong, unfettered by our twitchy human nervous system. Truly Wii Jenga will be the 21st century Tower of Babel, a true testament to the majesty of mankind. Silly Nimrod, you can't reach heaven without a wiimote!

But all that said, I should make my standard disclaimer: I withhold judgement until I hold the shiny disc in my grubby little hands.

A profile of Porter Wagoner and his recent career revival, on the occasion of his opening gig for the White Stripes recently at Madison Square Garden.

Universal to sell DRM-free music. According to this article, Universal's "test" of DRM-free music downloads begins August 21st, and Amazon will be among the vendors selling the files; I guess this means the Amazon music store launches this month.

The one merchant excluded from this new DRM-free product is iTunes. Which seems silly to me. People will go to Amazon or the Universal website if they're looking to buy music by a major artist (advertising will let people know that 50 Cent, for instance, is available DRM-free at Universal's website), but for back-catalog stuff, I don't see people flocking to a new online merchant to buy songs. If something pops into my head, and I want to buy some music, I first check eMusic, then I check iTunes; if I knew the artist recorded on Universal, I would check the Universal site, but who knows on what label an artist records? Thanks to eMusic, I'm more aware of indie labels, but except for a few huge acts, I don't know one major label from another. If people don't find it DRM-free on iTunes (or at all; if I was Apple, I'd consider pulling Universal's catalog, to make them rethink their stance), they'll download it illegally (or, if they're like me, hit up their local library).

To be fair, though, I should thank Universal for keeping the price at 99 cents. Which is actually an odd decision; iTunes Plus has given the labels the variable pricing they've been begging for, sort of, and now the largest label is throwing the gesture right back in Apple's face.

Hal Fishman, dead at 75.

Lee Hazlewood, dead at 78. eMusic has his last album, well worth a listen, and also has an interview with Hazlewood (I don't think you need a subscription to read the intereview).

I uploaded the new album to Imeem, but it's not streamable, so please settle for some older stuff (I included some songs from the new album at the end, in case they're streamable in the future):

I recently learned of a service called eztradein.com, which will purchase items like computers and iPods. I initially found out about it from a Circuit City e-mail, offering store credit, but in checking out the site, I saw they also offer cash payments through Paypal (and by getting some price quotes, it appears they pay the same whether you receive store credit or cash). I have an old iPod Photo that's been gathering dust for some time, so I got an estimate, and saw that they would pay me $113.60 for my iPod and some accessories. I printed out a pre-paid mailing label and sent in the unit.

They received my unit on Friday morning, and today I got my revised estimate. Instead of $113.60, I'm getting $76.20. They say the earbuds are not in resellable condition, which is probably true, but that would be the case of virtually every set of headphones they receive (if memory serves, including the earbuds added about $6 to the total estimate). But most of the drop comes from dropping the condition from my stated condition of "fair" to "poor," because "unit shows significant signs of use." Yeah, it does, that's why I said "fair." It has some scratches, so I listed it as "fair," defined on the site as "minor scratches but working," which seems a accurate description of what I sent them. So now I'm annoyed, because while a $113 payment made it worth my while not to sell the iPod on eBay, I'm sure I could have done significantly better than $76.20 on my own. Of course, I've had my new iPod about nine months now, and I never bothered selling the old one, so I probably shouldn't complain too much. But I don't think I'll sell anything else to eztradein.com, and I certainly wouldn't recommend them. I'm especially leery after getting a price quote on my Gamecube, and getting an estimate higher than what the units currently go for on eBay. I think overpromising and underdelivering may be their modus operandi.

One other thing troubles me. They say I will be paid in 7 calendar days, and that "if a discrepancy in verified values is found within the next 7 days, another copy of this email will be sent to you with updated values." I have a suspicion they are selling the iPod on eBay now, and if they don't turn a profit, they'll create a profit by cutting my payment. But maybe I'm just being paranoid; time will tell.

I meant to post this some time ago, but with Comic-Con, it got lost in the shuffle. I apologize for the delay.

I attended the grand unveiling of "The Effulgence of the North," the new panorama on display at the Velaslavasay Panorama in Los Angeles back on July 21st. I had been eagerly awaiting the evening, as well as the chance to flee up to Los Angeles for a day and unwind. The experience was not what I thought it would be, but I had a fine time nonetheless.

After some other stops in L.A., I arrived at the Panorama right as the event was starting. As seen in the picture above, the Velaslavasay Panorama is in a converted movie theater. The back half of the auditorium is where the stage for the panorama was built, which leaves the front half of the auditorium available for presentations, with a bit under a hundred seats, I'd reckon (I'm bad at reckoning, I should note). The theater isn't much to see on the inside, with bare, unadorned walls, and a very small lobby, containing a shrine to their previous location (that red dot atop the theater is the cherry that topped their previous location). But it's nice that the space is being put to use, for an art form even more archaic than the silent films for which the Union Theatre was built. I got one of the last seats, and their was a substantial standing room crowd, in addition to what was outside (I didn't have time to see the garden before the show started). That was probably my main surprise of the evening: There were a hell of a lot of people in attendance. When I did go out to the garden, I could barely move, and quickly gave up on the Bavarian food and went back inside. The crowd cut into my enjoyment slightly, but I am happy that the grand unveiling event was such a huge success for the institution, and hope it bodes well for their future.

The entertainment for the evening was overseen by Alpenhorn virtuoso Loren Marsteller. If I learned nothing else from the evening, he taught me that the curve of the alpenhorn is natural, with the alpenhorn crafter finding a tree naturally curved from the pressure of snowbanks on mountainsides. He played briefly, before making way for Tony Hartenstein, Yodeler and accordionist, who performed at the New York World's Fair of 1939. He was quite a hoot, and the crowd really enjoyed his performance. (The pictures I took of him didn't turn out so hot, but you can see a picture of Herr Hartenstein here).

The centerpiece of the evening's schedule was a lecture by Prof. Erkki Huhtamo. This was quite interesting, but probably went on a bit too long. The first half of the presentation was a more scholarly lecture about Albert Smith and the moving panorama Albert Smith's Daring Ascent of Mont Blanc, which was quite interesting, and pretty funny. While Albert Smith regaled crowds in 1850 with his climbing exploits, his drinking exploits during the climb seemed more interesting to this crowd (he invented a game, while climbing Mont Blanc, in which he and his fellow climbers would throw some of the copious bottles of alcohol in their provisions over the side of the mountain to see which would reach the bottom first; Smith had to be dragged up on the final ascent in a drunken stupor). Huhtamo followed the lecture with a magic lantern presentation, intended, I presume to lessen the disappointment that the actual moving panorama of Smith's exploits is no longer extant.

While I enjoyed Huhtamo's presentation, I was relieved when it was over, as I was eager to go outside and see the gardens and get a pretzel or something to eat. That's when I realized just how crowded the place was; I decided to go see the panorama, since that's why I was there, and then give the outdoors portion another chance.

I waited in line fifteen minutes or so to see the panorama (they were letting in about ten people at a time, to keep things manageable), and then I ascended the spiral staircase which led up to the viewing platform, surrounded completely by "The Effulgence of the North." In reading about the history of panoramas, I fell back on the familiar notion of the sublime in understanding their appeal, and expected the painting to evince a humbling force on the viewer, due to its awe-inspiring scope. So I was a bit disappointed and underwhelmed when I first emerged atop the staircase. The panorama is recessed a few feet from the viewing platform, and from that, combined with my height, it felt that, if anything, I was dominating the panorama. But as I continued to look at the panorama, I came to realize that it was my expectations, and not the painting, that were flawed. Rather than being imposing and awe-inspiring, I found the panorama quite peaceful. My attention tended to wander away from the towering icebergs, and instead to the vast ocean. There was a minimalist charm to the whole thing; my least favorite portion of the panorama was the busiest, where the depiction of the aurora borealis really failed to make an impression. There was a 3-D element to the display, with iceberg sculptures and painted ocean giving a depth to the display; a necessary touch to accent the immersive experience, even if it reminded me a bit of Sea World's penguin encounter. A soundtrack adds the cracking of ice, and changes in lighting simulate the passing of time, and encourage the viewer to focus on different aspects of the panorama (though I enjoyed lingering on the darkened spaces).

Overall, I was very impressed with the craftsmanship, and found the panorama a rewarding, tranquil experience. I ended up lingering in the viewing area for a good fifteen or twenty minutes; had I not felt guilty, knowing the long line to get in, I would have stayed longer. Finding that the crowd outside had not abated, I left immediately after, and sadly did not get my photo taken as an old-timey mountaineer (society's loss, I reckon). If you find yourself in the area, it's well worth a visit. I don't know that I would make a special trip just to see the panorama, but in the past, the Velaslavasay Panorama has hosted some very interesting events in keeping with the Victorian appeal of the artwork, and with the official opening of their new location, they are now even more suited to host no-doubt enertaining spectacles.

I somehow missed this one: Michelangelo Antonioni, deat at 94.

I would so totally buy Sousaphone Player.

From The Onion archives: Suicide letter full of Simpsons references.

Ingmar Bergman, dead at 89.

Tom Snyder, dead at 71.