History of English Infographic

So, my post about letters kind of piqued my interest in the history of English.  Then, I was given a copy of The Professor and the Madman, a book about the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary for Christmas.  There's really just so much to love about the English language!  Even though my graphic is filled with info, there's so, so much more that I had to cut.

Anyway, it was fun to research and create.  For a first try at an infographic, I'm rather pleased.  You may have to right-click and open in a new tab to be able to read all the text.

Casting That New Lincoln Biopic

I've been following, with some interest, the happenings of the new Spielberg movie, Lincoln, which is supposed to come to theaters in November.  I am, of course, interested in pretty much anything Civil War related.  Also anything presidential-history related.  Also films.  So, this right up my alley.  It's based on Doris Kearns Goodwin's Team of Rivals, which is an excellent book that you should go read right now.

They just released a 45-second teaser for the film; it looks OK.  I want to see more before I make a more substantive pronouncement.  It sounds like Spielberg has given Lincoln an appropriately high and nasally voice, with a slight southern accent (as his contemporaries reported about him):

Casting in biopics is always interesting to me.  I like to see how careful various directors are in finding actors who look like their historic counterparts.  Of course, that can be very difficult to do.  Sometimes, however, they are able to achieve some impressive results.
Lincoln is both really simple and incredibly difficult to cast.  The man's face is so burned into our national consciousness that we'll be able to tell very easily if something is off.  But, it's a unique face: long, with a big nose and deep-set eyes and a high forehead, and--most importantly--the famous chin beard.  There's also his incredible height.  Combined, those characteristics make Lincoln readily identifiable, but hard to perfect.
Originally, Spielberg had cast Liam Neeson for the role of Lincoln.  Not a bad choice on the looks; Neeson is tall (6'3", I believe), and, with a little makeup could easily be turned into a believable Lincoln.  He's a little thick for rail-thin Lincoln, but that wouldn't be the end of the world.

However, Neeson left the project in 2010, saying he was 'too old' (really?).  So, he was replaced by Daniel Day-Lewis.  I think he's a reasonably good choice.  He doesn't have the built-in schnoz or the height of Liam Neeson (he's only 6'1"), but the released photos look pretty good.  The two things I wish they'd do to his face are (1) make his lips a little bigger/droopier (can they even do that?) and (2) give him those deep lines between his nose and his mouth.  Day-Lewis doesn't seem to have those lines at all.  On Lincoln, they were very defined (plus that little mole on Lincoln's right).  Still, that's just me being picky.

Sally Field is playing Mary Todd Lincoln.  The facial structure isn't too bad between the two, but Sally Field is really skinny (especially in the face) and Mary Todd was much rounder:

I'm actually not sure who I would cast instead of her.  Most actresses these days are all really skinny with long faces, big lips, and big eyes.  It seems like a character actress would be proper for Mrs. Lincoln (she was quite the character anyway!). Maybe Edie McClurg?

Or Mare Winningham?

Yeah, I think Mare Winningham, just based on looks.  She is thinner than Mary Todd Lincoln as well, but I think the shape of her face is much better than Sally Field's.  Look at this picture of her from Hatfields & McCoys (the recent History Channel miniseries):

Joseph Gordon-Levitt has been cast as Robert Lincoln, which is fine, I guess.  I think that Leonardo DiCaprio would be a perfect fit for Robert (though, in all fairness, Robert was in his early 20s at the time of Lincoln's death, which is much harder for Leo to pull off these days).

Gulliver McGrath looks like he'll make a good Tad Lincoln:

Tommy Lee Jones will play Thaddeus Stevens, the radical Massachusetts Republican.  He doesn't look a ton like him, but I think he'll do a good job pulling off the character.  David Strathairn is playing Secretary of State William Seward, and looks a lot like him:

Ulysses S. Grant is the last one I'll look at (there are like 80 historical characters in this movie, and I'm only going to hit up some major ones).  He's being played by Jared Harris, who has kind of a smooshed face, but should work all right.

I don't expect Grant to make a big appearance in this film, since the events covered are going to be from Lincoln's perspective at a time when Grant was in the field, accepting Lee's surrender.  The surrender at Appomattox will probably not be shown in the film, partially because Lincoln received notice of the surrender on the evening he returned to Washington from conquered Richmond in order to visit recently injured (and soon-to-be-almost-assassinated) William Seward, and partially because there is no one listed as playing Robert E. Lee on Wikipedia.

Events that will probably be covered (at least I hope, based on the casting and Wikipedia page) are the passage of the 13th Amendment in January 1865, abolishing slavery, the Hampton Roads Conference (more on that in a moment), Lincoln's Second Inaugural ("With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan—to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations."), Lincoln's tour of conquered Richmond, and Lincoln's assassination.

The Hampton Roads Conference sets the stage for one of my very favorite paintings in the White House Collection.  I've spoken of presidential portraits before, and this one ties into that.

The week before the Hampton Roads Conference (the final peace negotiations between the Union and the Confederacy, before the surrender at Appomattox), Abraham Lincoln was in City Point, Virginia, visiting Richmond (which the Union had recently captured) and Ulysses S. Grant in order to discuss how to bring the war to a close.  William Tecumseh Sherman happened to be in City Point at the same time (he was on leave from rounding up Confederate General Joe Johnston in North Carolina, after his famous "March to the Sea").  The three men, along with admiral David Porter, met to discuss the Union's negotiating stance for the conference. Given the Confederacy's utter destruction, their negotiators wouldn't have much leverage, so, like the Versailles Conference of 1919, it was left to the major players on the winning side to get together and determine how the peace would look after the war.  It was the only time the "big three" of the Union Civil War leadership would be in the same place.  Three weeks later, Lincoln would be dead.

George Healy was the artist that painted the now-famous portrait of Lincoln that hangs in the State Dining Room of the White House (which Robert Lincoln called the best portrait he had ever seen of his father).  However, that portrait was actually based on his earlier portrait of Lincoln that was done as part of his painting "The Peacemakers," memorializing the famous meeting of Grant, Sherman, Lincoln, and Porter.

It's a beautiful piece, which Healy painted in 1868.  He was actually able to get Grant, Sherman, and Porter in for sittings to make sure their likenesses were properly done.  He used an older live portrait, photographs, and a similarly tall model for Lincoln.

L to R: Sherman, Grant, Lincoln, Porter

Sherman wrote later about the painting:

In Chicago about June or July of that year, when all the facts were fresh in my mind, I told them to George P. A. Healy, the artist, who was casting about for a subject for an historical painting, and he adopted this interview. Mr. Lincoln was then dead, but Healy had a portrait, which he himself had made at Springfield some five or six years before. With this portrait, some existing photographs, and the strong resemblance in form of [Leonard Swett], of Chicago, to Mr. Lincoln he made the picture of Mr. Lincoln seen in this group. For General Grant, Admiral Porter, and myself he had actual sittings, and I am satisfied the four portraits in this group of Healy's are the best extant. The original picture, life-size, is, 1 believe, now in Chicago, the property of Mr. [Ezra B. McCagg]; but Healy afterwards, in Rome, painted ten smaller copies, about eighteen by twenty-four inches, one of which I now have, and it is now within view. I think the likeness of Mr. Lincoln by far the best of the many I have seen elsewhere, and those of General Grant, Admiral Porter, and myself equally good and faithful. I think Admiral Porter gave Healy a written description of our relative positions in that interview, also the dimensions, shape, and furniture of the cabin of the "Ocean Queen" ; but the rainbow is Healy's—typical, of course, of the coming peace. In this picture I seem to be talking, the others attentively listening. Whether Healy made this combination from Admiral Porter's letter or not, I cannot say; but I thought that he caught the idea from what I told him had occurred when saying " that if Lee would only remain in Richmond till I could reach Burkesville we would have him between our thumb and fingers," suiting the action to the word. It matters little what Healy meant by his historic group, but it is certain that we four sat pretty much as represented, and were engaged in an important conversation during the forenoon of March 28, 1865, and that we parted never to meet again.

The painting is one of the best in the White House collection.  It was formerly in the president's living quarters on the second floor, and can be seen in George H.W. Bush's official portrait:

Currently, it hangs in the president's dining room in the West Wing:

So I Haven't Blogged About History in a While...

Well, maybe that whole presidential portrait thing counts.

Anyway, I recently found out that Yale has put a bunch of random lectures up on YouTube.  You too can get a $200,000 education for the cost of an internet connection*!

I've been totally engrossed by this one professor's course on the American Revolution.  Her name is Joanne Freeman, and, according to her Yale biography, "was rated one of the nation's "Top Young Historians" in 2005."  Also, she's really funny.  You should watch her lectures (first one embedded below)!


She seems to do a really great job of making the Revolution accessible, putting into the action, not as a modern-day patriot but as someone of the time who has no idea what the heck is going to happen.




*Degree, discussion sections, residence within campus housing, and access to libraries, student health insurance, or anything else that students get, not included.

Prohibition

I love Ken Burns and his documentaries. Ever since I was a kid and watched The Civil War with my dad, I've been hooked. As many critics say, he has the ability to take otherwise complex and inaccessible history and turn it into something fascinating. Some say he makes things seem too simplistic. Well, that's a critique that can be leveled against any documentarian. You only have so much time that an audience will grant you. With the time that he has, Ken Burns makes people who don't like history absolutely love it.

That's why I can't wait for his new documentary, which will be showing on PBS starting this Sunday. It's on that great American experiment, Prohibition. So, go grab a tumbler, make yourself an Old Fashioned, and enjoy the featurette with great anticipation:

The Father of Imbibing

Everyone already knows that George Washington is the man, what with telling the truth about chopping down that cherry tree, defeating the British, being made of radiation, and killing zombies. Apparently, that's not all. Our nation's first president was also a connoisseur of that fine early malt tradition. In his "Notebook as a Virginia Colonel" in 1757, the crazy hooligan added a recipe for "small beer." Described as "roasty" and with an aura of "coffee," the founder's brew is easy to make, so long as you know when the temperature is "Blood warm."

Anyone up for some celebratory brewing? Start now and it might be ready by the Fourth of July.

The recipe:

To make Small Beer
Take a large Sifter full of Bran Hops to your Taste. - Boil these 3 hours. Then strain out 30 Gallons into a Cooler, put in 3 Gallons Molasses while the Beer is scalding hot or rather drain the molasses into the Cooler & strain the Beer on it while boiling Hot. Let this stand till it is little more than Blood warm. Then put in a quart of Yeast if the weather is very cold, cover it over with a Blanket & let it work in the Cooler 24 hours. Then put it into the Cask - leave the Bung openhole open till it is almost done working - Bottle it that day Week it was Brewed.

Last WWI Combat Vet Dies

Wow--it truly is the end of an era. The last combat veteran of World War I, Claude Choules, has died in Australia. How crazy, to see something like that happen. I remember an estimate that there were 65 million combatants in World War I. Someone had to be the last to survive. Mr. Choules was it.

Reflecting on his 108-year life back in 2009, Mr. Choules told the Australian Broadcasting Corporation that "I had a pretty poor start. But I had a good finish."

And, as expected, the Great War, which began with the shots heard around the world, has passed with barely a whisper.

Civil War Sesquicentennial

Today marks the 150th anniversary of the first shots of the American Civil War. On this day in 1861, Confederate forces began firing upon the Union-held Ft. Sumter at the mouth of Charleston Harbor.

Inside the fort was Maj. Robert Anderson, an artillery commander who had once taught at West Point.

Leading the bombardment was recently promoted General P.G.T. Beauregard, who had been taught artillery and been an assistant to a certain artillery officer named Robert Anderson.

Ft. Sumter stands as a fascinating start to a truly horrifying conflict. No casualties were suffered by either side in that entanglement. However, almost exactly four years later, the war would be over and 622,000 lives would have been lost.

In addition to that was the human element, exemplified by the relationship of the adversaries at Ft. Sumter. Over the course of the war, countless friends and families were ripped apart. Some of the famous examples include:

• Confederate Gen. Lewis Armistead sending his Bible to his dear friend Union Gen. Winfield Scott Hancock's wife (Armistead would die the next day while leading a portion of Pickett's Charge against Hancock's troops),
• Confederate Gen. James Longstreet serving as a groomsman at Union Gen. Ulysses S. Grant's wedding, and
  
• Confederate Gen. Jeb Stuart's father-in-law, Union Col. Philip Cooke, chasing him unsuccessfully as Stuart rode is cavalry in a circle around the entire Union army.

For these reasons--the combined horror and humanity, not to mention the central moral purpose of emancipation that President Lincoln successfully transitioned the war into--the Civil War is inscribed into our collective national memory. I hope that we continue to remember it, with both fascination and reverence, for its effects and its costs. As Robert E. Lee said during the massacre of the Battle of Fredericksburg, "It is well that war is so terrible, or we would grow too fond of it."

The Speech of the King

So, yeah, when it comes to movies, I am routinely months (if not years) behind the curve. That means that me having seen The King's Speech on Friday is nothing short of a miracle. It only won the Oscar for Best Picture like three weeks ago. That said, even though it's showing in about three theaters in the United States by this point, you should go see it.

It always surprises me that there are so many interesting histories that haven't been told in movie or made-for-TV-movie or miniseries or TV format. I mean, I guess fourish thousand years leaves lots of epic things to tell.

The King's Speech is the story of Albert, Duke of York, the second son of King George V (who ruled the UK during World War I) and younger brother of King Edward VIII. He, unbeknownst to me, suffered from a stutter throughout his life, almost debilitatingly so until the mid-1920's, when he began taking elocution lessons from an Australian therapist named Lionel Logue. When his brother abdicated the throne in order to marry twice-divorced American socialite Wallis Simpson in 1936, Albert became the reluctant King George VI (father of today's Queen Elizabeth II) who led his nation through the second war with Germany in a generation.

I won't ruin the movie's story or go too deeply into it, but instead will discuss both its historicity and the acting.

Historicity

First, to get an idea, here's a real video of George VI speaking in public. His stammer is noticeable, though not terribly pronounced:

The movie does a pretty good job in being historically accurate, and the changes were appropriately done for dramatic effect. I detail the biggest ones here:

1. Prince Albert actually began taking elocution lessons from Lionel Logue much earlier than the movie portrays. The film is correct in opening on Albert's speech at the closing of the British Empire Exposition in 1925. The book The Queen Mother and Her Century by Arthur Bousfield describes it thusly:

April 1925 was a particularly bad experience for the Duke as he had become President of the Empire Exhibition and was required to make a speech which would be broadcast on radio and be made in front of his awe-inspiring father, the King. The King recorded that "Bertie got through his speech all right" but others noted that there were embarrassingly long pauses in it.

After that, he determined that he had to solve his problem. Lionel Logue was the tenth he tried. Turns out that the tenth try is the charm.

2. The movie is incorrect in portraying Albert's first major public speech as his Declaration of War speech in September 1939. It was actually a speech in 1927 opening the Australian Parliament. However, for drama the film made the training with Logue and the pinnacle speech out to be later.

3. Churchill. Winston Churchill made a few appearances in the movie because people today are so familiar with him. However, as Christopher Hitchens details in his review, Churchill was actually a big supporter of Edward VIII. When the abdication was imminent, Churchill was so enamored by the young King that he almost lost his own support in the Party by advocating for his battle with the Church of England over the divorce issue.

4. On a smaller note, at the end of the film, Churchill is included with the group of senior ministers listening to the King's broadcast. This is wrong on two counts. First, there wouldn't have been a large group of people listening to the speech in Buckingham Palace. It would've simply been the King, his family, and the radio people. Second, even if the event did happen that way, Churchill as Lord of the Admiralty would not have been distinguished enough to be present. George VI only warmed up to Churchill later in the war, having been cool to him because of his support for Edward.

5. The Munich Agreement. Probably the biggest thing left out of the movie is also probably George VI's biggest monarchical blunder. When Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain returned in September 1938 declaring "Peace for our time," having just joined France in betraying Czechoslovakia to Hitler, the King invited him to the balcony of Buckingham Palace, an honor usually reserved for the Royal Family. His support for appeasement (though common among the Britons of the day) was misplaced, and the event stands as an embarrassment on the highest order.

Acting

I don't know what to say, beyond that Colin Firth and Helen Bonham-Carter were both incredible in their roles. I always thought that HBC was pegged as a crazy woman, on the order of Bellatrix LeStrange in the Harry Potter franchise and her character in Sweeney Todd. However, she took on the role of George VI's wife Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon ("the Queen Mother") with grace and charm. The support and care she shows for George is lovely and believable.

Firth, for his part, did (what it seemed, and what's been confirmed by experts on the subject) an incredible stuttering performance. For what is already such a difficult condition to live with, Firth showed how devastating it can be for one who must constantly speak in public. George's fear of speaking was palpable through Firth, and you loved his character for how held up under the situation: never wanting to be king, but accepting his duty with great resolve. In fact, he received what could be the highest honor for the film, and I don't mean his Oscar for Best Actor. I mean the statement from Queen Elizabeth (who was a little girl at the time of the events portrayed), saying that she was "touched by a moving portrayal of her father."

For comparison, below are the real "King's Speech" from September 3, 1939 and the one from the movie (spoiler!):

So, yeah, I can't gush about the movie enough. It was great. Well worth $10 and two hours of my life.

RIP Frank Buckles

So, I haven't written anything for a really long time. Sorry about that. Anyway, some sad news that I just saw: the last American veteran of World War I has died. Frank Buckles, at 110, was the final one of 4,734,991 Americans to have served in the Great War. He was a Missouri farm boy, born in 1901, who served in France from 1917-1920. In World War II, he happened to be in the Philippines and was held by the Japanese as a civilian POW for three years. He held no particular distinction in the Army; that is, he didn't do anything more remarkable than almost all the millions of other men with which he served. It seems fitting, however, that the last standing veteran of a war should be just a normal guy, since those 'normal guys' are the ones who really do the work of war, yet their overwhelming contribution is often the least celebrated.

As an aside, there are still two remaining World War I vets in the world. I imagine that in the next few years, they too will pass, and the world will keep on revolving, barely noting it.

Have You Seen The Google Today?

If you didn't realize, today is the day every four years that we inaugurate a new (or re-inaugurate an old) president. Because we happen to be between those four years, there isn't a new president today. However, there are many, many presidential inauguration anniversaries. The most notable being the 50th anniversary of John F. Kennedy's Inaugural Address ("Ask not what your country can do for you..." ring a bell?).

However, it is also the anniversary of (almost) every president's inauguration since the 1930's. So, below I post as many of the inaugurals that I could find on Youtube, beginning with the famous Kennedy address (and, as a side note, Eisenhower's and Reagan's second addresses were on Jan. 21 due to Jan. 20 falling on a Sunday):



Roosevelt 1937


Roosevelt 1941


Roosevelt 1945


Truman 1949


Eisenhower 1953


Eisenhower 1957



Johnson 1965 (not complete)


Nixon 1969


Nixon 1972


Carter 1976 (not complete)


Reagan 1981


Reagan 1985


Bush 1989


Clinton 1993


Clinton 1997


Bush 2001


Bush 2005 (I can't find a video or audio file of it...)

Obama 2009

Dick Winters, 1918-2011

I found out today that on January 2, Major Richard "Dick" Winters passed away. He was 92 years old.

Major Winters was a relative unknown until Stephen Ambrose's 1992 history of the WWII service of Company E ("Easy"), 2nd Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, entitled Band of Brothers. The story is one of those that has to be read to be believed. The men of Easy Company--and their comrades throughout the 101st--parachuted into Normandy in the wee morning hours of D-Day. They cleared the Germans from Normandy. They parachuted into Holland during Operation Market Garden. They were surrounded, yet held out, around the Belgian town of Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge. They marched on, and took, Berchtesgaden--Adolf Hitler's summer retreat. They helped liberate concentration camps.

And then those survived came home. Some went to college, while others went to work. They married, had children, bought homes, and continued life, like all our World War II veterans, unsung and dignified. Major Winters, after winning the Distinguished Service Cross for his actions in Normandy, and after having led Easy Company for much of the war, went back to his home in Pennsylvania, where he eventually settled down on a quiet plot of land to live his life. Even today, his actions for taking out a number of German 88mm cannons behind enemy lines on D-Day are taught at West Point as ideal on-the-ground tactics.

Winters, from all that I've seen and read of him, was quiet, sharp, and self-effacing. He spent much of his life extolling his comrades-in-arms. I'm sorry he's gone. The world--quite literally--is better because of him, and ultimately, as a legacy, what more could one ask for?

Remembering The Iron Lady

Today marks the twentieth anniversary of Margaret Thatcher's downfall from the premiership of the United Kingdom. While often forgotten in the U.S. (and not even known by most people in my own generation), the career of 'the Iron Lady' stands out as one of the most impressive dossiers of principled accomplishment this century, perhaps only beaten by Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal. Even the likes of Ronald Reagan did not accomplish for his country so much as she did for hers. Like FDR and Churchill, Reagan and Thatcher were two extraordinary politicians, united across the Atlantic, each leaving a continually echoing legacy. When Ronald Reagan left the presidency, the country in his wake had been radically altered in the rightward direction. Without Reagan conservatism, you'd have no Bill Clinton declaring that 'the era of big government [was] over'. You'd have no George W. Bush, and you'd have no Barack Obama.

Similarly, without Maggie Thatcher, there would have been no Tony Blair. There would've been no New Labour, no Gordon Brown, and no David Cameron. Most importantly, however, is that the trajectory of the United Kingdom may have gone in an opposite direction from today. The Iron Lady was forced from office in an intra-party no-confidence battle. Unlike her partner across the pond, she wasn't able to retire with popular dignity and a chosen successor. And the reason? It wasn't her local-government conservatism. It wasn't even her fiscal conservatism or her hawkish foreign policy against the Soviets. Instead, it was her policy to what would become the European Union. Ms. Thatcher's Tory opponents wanted the UK to forego the Pound Sterling and join the proposed common European currency. That notion was anathema to Thatcher; she didn't want to give an inch of the United Kingdom's sovereignty to fools on the Continent. It should be the British people who are both liable and responsible for their own currency, not the British people who are liable for but not given any control of the common currency. Given the fiscal demise of Greece and Ireland and the imminent fiscal demise of Portugal and Spain, the Lady's decision to avoid the Euro couldn't have been better. However, in 1990, those in her own party didn't see her precience.

So, on November 22, 1990, after the first ballot for the leadership of the Conservative party showed Thatcher ahead but with less support than expected from her Tory colleagues, the Lady announced that she would not be on the second ballot. She resigned, leaving a party that had thrown itself into needless disarray. It would remain that way until the present--the Tories are now again in power (though barely) after a thirteen year exile. However, the scars that her opponents left on the Conservative Party persist, only lightly plastered over, leaving the party as vulnerable as it has ever really been. What it needs now is a true successor to Thatcher, not the namby-pamby, spineless, career politician David Cameron.

Two excellent pieces on Thatcher's downfall from the Daily Telegraph: one and two.

One of Thatcher's final PMQ's:

The Oval Office

If you know me, you know that I think the American system of government, for all its foibles, is kind of awesome. Specifically, I find the presidency to be one of the most intriguing jobs ever created. For all our talk of citizen-rulers, the position still sits in the American mind somewhere between a monarch and politician, just the way that George Washington wanted. Even when the individual occupant is unpopular, we revere the office and its power. Maybe that's one reason that a president who is flailing in the polls isn't simply disliked. A sense of betrayal befalls him. The president, we feel, embodies what we aspire to be; in his hands--true or not--we place the future of the United States. It's a sacred trust and a heavy burden. No wonder presidents age at twice the rate of a normal citizen.

That said, the most iconic image of the presidency is the White House (which I love!), and the most iconic room in the White House is the Oval Office. That's where it happens. That's where the big decisions are made.

Presidents, of course, are all different, and one way their individual differences, political and personal, manifest themselves is through a change in decoration of the Oval Office. It's a tradition that has happened since the Oval Office came into being. When George W. Bush came into office in January 2001, he had the Clinton rug removed and replaced with the old Reagan rug, symbolically indicating in whose footsteps he wanted to follow. In contrast, when Barack Obama became president, he kept George W. Bush's decorations for almost two years, not to indicate a continuity of policy but to avoid a display of needless extravagance in the midst of a recession. How the decorations are treated means something, both to the president and to the American people.

Its decor is also subject to unintentional symbolism. For example, while John F. Kennedy was traveling to Dallas in November 1963, the Oval Office was redecorated with a deep scarlet rug and new furniture. He never lived to see the change (in fact, Mrs. Kennedy never saw it either; the decorations were taken down immediately after the assassination, before she returned to the White House), and Lyndon Johnson, soon after his assumption of the presidency, went back to the dull Truman-era green. The optimism to take on everything--even the traditional old Oval Office--that had seemed so bright was extinguished.

LBJ also brought televisions into the Oval Office, the first and only time that has been done. He would keep four of them running on the different news networks to keep him apprised of what the American people were viewing in Vietnam. Richard Nixon didn't like the way that it looked, nor did he want to follow four different news networks. So, he removed the TV's and installed a new rug--different from any in the past--with the presidential seal emblazoned on it.

Gerald Ford, soon after taking office, with the Nixon decor

Gerald Ford, upon Nixon's resignation, had the Oval Office redecorated, not as much because he disliked the look as to indicate a severance between his administration and his predecessor's. The eagle carpet was removed, replaced with a nice pale yellow, patterned rug. Jimmy Carter kept the decorations during his administration, though he rearranged the furniture a bit.

Gerald Ford's Oval Office (recreation at Ford Library)

Jimmy Carter in the Oval Office, using Ford decor

Ronald Reagan, again wanting to make clear that he was the new president, had the Carter/Ford decor altered soon after arriving in office. It was replaced with a truly eighties motif: pastels and flowery patterns.

Ronald Reagan on his last day in office

Replica of Reagan Oval Office (at Reagan Library)

Reagan was, of course, followed by the first George Bush, who changed the colors of the office to a sky-blue motif. As far as my aesthetic is concerned, it's pretty atrocious, but whatever.

George Bush Oval Office (note the Reagan couches are the same)

Then came Bill Clinton. Frankly, of the motifs I've seen, I like his the best. He used a bold blue rug and two couches with alternating red and white stripes of varying thicknesses. To me, it reflects both the power of the office by catching your eye and subconsciously reflecting the American flag.

Clinton Oval Office

His office was effectively recreated for the television drama The West Wing, which was written as an alternate history to the Clinton presidency. What if, it posits, the president were intelligent like Clinton but had a better moral compass? It's a great show, which, while (according to former White House staffers) not being entirely accurate on the White House layout or the way policy is done, is an excellent portrayal of the energy and the 'mood' that an administration exudes.

George W. Bush, as mentioned above, had the Reagan rug pulled out of storage very soon after he took office. During his tenure, the Oval Office floor was redone (in a beautiful light/dark alternating wood pattern), and his new decorations were put in. They were less intense than the Clinton colors, though I must admit his 'sun rays' rug was an incredible touch. He gets the silver medal in Josh's contest.

Bush meeting with advisers in 2001

President Obama just recently changed the Oval Office decor, reflecting a more modern outlook. For the first time, the walls have been changed from their past off-white, with a vertically striped wallpaper pattern that follows the striped wood floor. I kind of like that. He also installed two new couches, both yellowy-olive corduroy, and a new, moderny coffee table (with a bowl of apples instead of flowers, since he likes that better). I don't particularly like those changes (except the apples...that's fine).

The Obama Oval Office

It's kind of remarkable how iconic 'the Oval' has become. It didn't even exist until Franklin Roosevelt had it built during the Great Depression. Before then, the president had an oval-shaped office in a different location of the West Wing. Before that office (in the early 1900's), it was a simple rectangular one. Before that, there was no West Wing, and the president both lived and worked in the White House itself.

One thing is sure: as long as there is a presidency, there will now be an Oval Office. Our nation's psyche is attached to it. Were something terrible to happen to the White House and the Oval be destroyed, it would be immediately rebuilt. It stands for the Office of the President more than any individual ever could.

Almost all pictures courtesy of the White House Museum (check them out!)

Secretariat

The film Secretariat, based on the life of the horse who made ESPN's top 100 athletes of the century list (at #35), came out this weekend. I haven't seen it yet, but I'd very much like to. Slate has a great article discussing why people are able to get so wrapped up in Secretariat's story. Why do we--even today, almost almost forty years after the events took place--love the big, lazy, champion? Unlike Seabiscuit, who was tiny and always the racing underdog against the big-boys, Secretariat was always the champion. He was like the guys on my swim team in high school who would skip practice for days on end but still win their events at the meets. You couldn't help but be impressed by their athleticism.

I first learned about Secretariat from my dad's old business partner, who used to come to our house every day to work. She'd leave Lemonheads for my brother and me and would also leave the scent of perfume wafting about our house, since she would pet the cat all day and transfer all the smell to her. She also loved horse racing. One day, she brought a huge coffee table book about Secretariat to our house. I gobbled it up and then went on to tell anyone who would listen the story of the horse. Go figure, most third graders didn't particularly care about how he won the Belmont by over 30 lengths or how his heart was twice as big as a normal thoroughbred's. Whatever. I thought it was cool.

The Crazy History of Blue

If you're like me, you take colors for granted. You want to draw or paint? Go to your local art store and pick up a tube of whatever color you want. You can even get strange modern colors like hot pink or fluorescent yellow.

But, as it turns out, most colors were not particularly easy to find as long-lasting, quality pigments. So each one has a long history of botched attempts, less-than-adequate results, and intrigue.

Such is the story of blue!

In its long history, the color blue has been used for decorating temples, displaying wealth, creaing the Smurfs, and offering human sacrifices. The recipes for its pigment have been discovered across cultures, lost, rediscovered, and synthetically created.

Both the ancient Egyptians and the ancient Mayans discovered blue pigments. So did the ancient Chinese. Interestingly, in Egypt and China the artisans used early chemistry, baking and and mixing and reacting compounds of quartz, a copper compound, and calcium carbonate (in the case of Egypt) and quartz, a copper compound, and a barium compound (in the case of China). The similarity of the two colors' chemical formulas (CaCuSi4O10 vs. BaCuSi4O10) has caused some to posit that Chinese blue ('Han blue') is descended from the earlier Egyptian blue. However, there is nothing conclusive to prove this.

Anyone familiar with high school chemistry knows of copper ions' bluish tinge, so it makes sense that the chemical pigments would have that ion hanging about (see the 'Cu' in the formula). Mayan blue, however, was a bit more cagey. Even today scientist's aren't sure exactly what they used, though they believe it was a mixture of naturally occurring indigo plants and a clay called palygorskite. Though different in their makeup, each of the compounds has lasted for centuries: you can still see blue paint on Egyptian friezes and sculptures, ancient Chinese porcelain, and Mayan sacrificial sites. That's right: in times of drought, in order to bring the 'blue' rain, Mayans would cover someone in the blue dye and toss them into a sacrificial well. Even today, there are wells found with over ten feet of hardened blue dye on the bottom.

By the Middle Ages of Europe, however, the Egyptian insight to blue pigment had been lost. While Chinese blue objects made it to the West through trade, their pigments rarely did. Instead, Europeans would use the elusive lapis lazuli, an intensely blue stone found--at the time--only in modern Afghanistan. Needless to say, the distance and labor involved in the mining process made the stone incredibly valuable, more so than gold, in fact. Painters who couldn't afford the pigment would use azurite, a different stone that yielded a greenish-blue, which was clearly not what the artists desired.

It wasn't until the eighteenth century that a strong, resolute synthetic blue was created. And even then, it was an accident. A Berliner, named Diesbach, was seeking to create a red hue by using iron sulfate and potash. However, the potash was contaminated, so the more he added, the less red the pigment became. Before he knew it, the reaction he caused created a deep blue hue. Though he didn't figure it out, others eventually did: animal oil from animal blood had gotten into the mixture, causing a reaction that formed potassium ferrocyanide, today known as 'Prussian blue'. Artists began gobbling up the stuff, because it was relatively cheap and easy. Soon after, cerulean and cobalt blue were discovered. By the 1930's, phthalo blue had been added to the roll.

As an unintended side-effect of Prussian blue's discovery, by the 1800's, lapis lazuli, the blue stone that had been so precious to medieval and Renaissance aristocrats, was shunted aside. If anyone could have blue, they figured, why would they even bother?

Even today new blues are being synthesized, continuing a chain from ancient times to now.

And fun fact, ever notice that 'cyanide' has the word 'cyan' in it? Cyan is a derivative of the Greek κύανoς, meaning--go figure--blue. The resultant Prussian blue compound, made from iron, was called 'ferrocyanide', meaning 'iron-blue'. Chemists eventually determined that a molecule of bonded carbon and nitrogen had joined with iron; CN, therefore, became a 'cyano' group, and as an ion, 'cyanide'.

Kermit and the Smithsonian

Apparently, about two weeks ago, the original Kermit the Frog, made by Jim Henson out of a green coat (and not yet really a frog), was donated by Jim's widow, Jane, to the Smithsonian, along with a few other puppets from the early Sam and Friends days. What a wonderful thing for Mrs. Henson to have done! I can't wait to see how they display them all.

Below is a great skit with Kermit from the good ol' days, followed by a montage of Wilkins and Wontkins commercials--classically Henson, full of unapologetic assault, violence, and maiming.

Why Not?

courtesy of cul de sac

It's Nice to Know Someone Still Appreciates the Golden Girls

Remember The Golden Girls? If you are under the age of twenty, you definitely don't. I'm 24 and I barely do. Still, reminiscing the wacky adventures of Blanche, Rose, Dorothy, and Sophia in the late 80's and early 90's just gets me rolling. Before them, everyone thought that old ladies were only good for giving you cookies and earning you merit badges. Now we know that you can laugh at them too, like normal people. Thanks Golden Girls!

Alas, of the original girls, only Betty White survives (and hosts SNL!). However, as a fitting tribute, artist Ginger Williams has memorialized our favorite retirettes in the form of nesting dolls:


h/t Super Punch

Photo Dump!

Camel

I have been woefully inadequate in blogging lately, mostly because I went to Egypt and Kenya and am now trying to catch up on everything else in life that falls behind after eighteen days. However, I will be discussing it to some extent, and I'll certainly be doing some photo dumping. Here's the first installment--Egypt!

Pyramids of Giza

Cairo at night

Bent Pyramid and Red Pyramid

Pyramids of Giza
Sahara

Nubian man
Pink Aswan granite
Nile at sunset
Karnak Temple
Alabaster Mosque
Alabaster Mosque
Alabaster Mosque
Alabaster Mosque
Nubian man