Because It's Obsolete

In December, the Magna Carta is going on the auction block.
I wish I were making this up.



This is the only copy of the Magna Carta in the United States, and it's up for sale.
The same copy that's been on display in the National Archives since 1985 (apparently on loan from Ross Perot). Signed in the year 1215, it's been the foundation of our right to a speedy trial, to know why we're imprisoned, and to confront our accusers (aka habeas corpus) since the Middle Ages. This document started the American colonial resistance against King George III, back when Declarations & Constitutions were mere whispers on the tongues of patriots. But in October 2006, the Military Commissions Act essentially erased our right to habeas corpus, making this document (and some parts of the Bill of Rights) obsolete. And exactly one year later, it's for sale.

Now, instead of a piece of our nation's freedom, I guess it's just a historical trinket. The funds are going to a good cause, so that must make it okay. Can't help but wonder, will the Bill of Rights share the same fate once it's legislated away? How about a copy of the Constitution? When it comes to our rights, is becoming a collector's item really any different from being relegated to the trash?

I wonder how one could advertise for this auction.

Death of an Author

So Robert Jordan died yesterday*, author of the fantasy book series, The Wheel of Time. An epic tale spanning over ten books, each about a thousand pages.

I started the series as a teenager, and then during my first year at UVA, Robert Jordan came to a book signing at the UVA bookstore. Buried somewhere among my old photos, there is a picture of us smiling together.

About two books ago, I stopped reading. Several years lapsed between the last books in the series, and I had forgotten many plot points during undergrad. I resolved that once the final book was released, I would take a week sometime, maybe during a vacation, and read the series from beginning to end.

Sure, the plot had gotten out of control, with nearly 40 main characters at last count. And the last book I read (over 700 pages) took place during a single day, relived from each character's perspective. (that was painful.) But it started out solid, with a great plot and an intense cultural tapestry as involved as Tolkein's. Frankly, as a writer, I've been dying to know how he'd resolve the writing mess he'd gotten into - even more than how he'd resolve the plot.

Now, I may never know the ending. But I bet now he's finally figured it out, and would love to get his hands on a pen and some paper.

*If you're a Robert Jordan fan, go here for more info.

Compassion + Art = Change

It's a sad fact that blind people don't often get to experience art. Japanese volunteers are changing this.

The Illustrated Braille Club is a volunteer group that translates picture books, stories, even manga into Braille. They turn the images into dots, then print them on special paper that punches raised dots into the paper. They specialize in children's books, translating favorites like Peter Rabbit and Disney, so that kids who can't see can still connect with culture. Perhaps one day, galleries and art museums will feature dot-image translations of paintings for the blind. Or at least allow sturdier sculptures to become hands-on exhibits.

In related news, Tokyo University researchers have developed e-paper, an electronic Braille display surface that can alter itself in just 1 second. The current prototype is a portable card for fast and easy reading.

Feminine Hygiene Ad, 1940

Take a look. Just amazing.

Several things leap out at first glance:
• Lysol, as a feminine cleanser. "In the proper dilution", of course.
• Concept: It's not his fault you're filthy. The best thing you can do for your marriage is douse your crotch with disinfectant.
• The copy tone and themes (marital happiness, ignorance, daintiness, blame) suggests that it was written by a man.

Now, I could be wrong. Maybe a woman wrote this ad. But I doubt it. It lacks sympathy. There's no suggestion that a husband and wife might (gasp) actually talk with each other to determine the cause of bedroom problems. Not one hint to see a doctor about odors. Instead, the woman feels very alone in her troubles, not only in the visual but in the way the copy brings the reader to an answer. Not only blamed, she's isolated. What a great way to discuss health problems.

"But," you might ask, "isn't that the typical attitude towards female health issues before the sexual revolution?" Not necessarily.

Remember Lydia Pinkham's Vegetable Compound? Probably not, unless you lived in the 1880's or read about it somewhere. Ads for this product were written by a woman. Compare the tone to the Lysol ad.

The message is empowering: Women are not alone. No fear, no blame, no threats of a failing marriage. Just reassurance and a solution from a sympathetic friend. Feminism came pretty far in the sixty years after Miss Pinkham, right? Fortunately, these things seem to be cyclic, and now we have sites like Feministing.

I wonder where women will end up in another sixty years.