Lectures and presentations by the Mechanics' Institute in San Francisco.
The Mechanics' Institute is a leading cultural center that includes a vibrant library, a world-renowned chess program and a full calendar of engaging cultural events. Founded in 1854 to serve the educational and social needs of mechanics - artisans, craftsmen, and inventors - and their families, the Institute today is a favorite of avid readers, writers, downtown employees, chess players, and the 21st century nomadic worker. We are located in our 9-story landmark building in the Financial District of San Francisco at 57 Post Street.
Website: www.milibrary.org/
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ΔΕΔΥΚΕ ΜΕΝ Α ΣΕΛΑΝΝΑ ΚΑΙ ΠΛΗΙΑΔΕΣ ΜΕΣΑΙ ΔΕ ΝΥΚΤΕΣ, ΠΑΡΑ Δ' ΕΡΧΕΤ 'ΩΡΑ ΕΓΩ ΔΕ ΜΟΝΑ ΚΑΥΕΥΔΩ. Α Greek friend, Nikephoros
I remember cooking with Judy and Danny Hallinan. We made tamales from scratch.
It's June 16 2024..what a wonderful way to celebrate Bloomsday! Thank you
I loved "Lily Dare," played brilliantly by J. Conrad Frank! Is there a youtube recording of it? J. Conrad Frank was amazing and hilarious and I would love to share the video with friends across the US and overseas!!!
Jim Jones was awesome! Greatest prophet in history!
Hail Jim Jones!!!
Maybe everyone can learn something from this and AS AN ADULT take responsibility for yourself.
This video is a piece of history unto itself capturing communications during the Covid lockdowns! Was a teacher during those crazy days … drummed up some ptsd watching this thinking about the struggles trying to teach online !!!
I was facebook friends with Vernon Gosney before he passed away. He never spoke about it, but I was very happy he survived.
Great, just great, and very much appreciated.
start at 8:00
Wonderful presentation. As someone who has been hiking to Drakes Estero since the 1980s, I can tell you the area undoubtedly looks very much as it did in 1579. In fact, the estero almost seems to transcend time, the place is so eerily unchanged it is not hard to imagine how it looked over 400 years ago. There is a small, isolated monument at the estero consisting of a wooden post, a ships anchor and a marble plaque commemorating Drake's 1579 landing. Over the years, I have seen British coins, flags and even a can of smashed peas left by Brits who have been intrepid enough to hike out to this remote cove.
'promosm' ✔️
A leftist mentality is easily manipulated; they lack critical thinking skills and quickly participate in groupthink.
Yet again I was told I’d be reimbursed by the end of the month. She did not perform any work and kept my money! This has been going on for years!
I love the fascinating story of the Smith family and work with one of Andrew Smith seniors inventions, that being mechanical door closers set in the floor known as floor springs here in the UK. I advocate for the repair and retention of Andrew Smiths floor springs, espectialy when they are in a historical setting.
It was truly an honor to moderate this discussion. Isidra Mencos' Promenade of Desire: A Barcelona Memoir and Leslie Kirk Campbell’s short story collection, The Man with Eight Pairs of Legs are both remarkable and meticulously crafted books that explore many themes including, What the Body Holds, It's Pain and It's Pleasure.
Thanks Mechanics Institute for the video. Dr. Williams has an outstanding presentation.
I stayed at the Strachey house at Newlands Corner in Surrey. I was so saddened to see that it is has been modernised and turned into a hotel.
GREAT PRODUCTION !!! Well done guyz... It's obvious a LOT of work and research went into this. You've just got a new subscriber. Greetings and a " Well Done that Man ! " from Fife, Scotland !
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This person charged me for work not done. She owes me thousands of dollars. She said she’d like to work with me, I paid her, and she failed to show up for any meetings, assign work, or show up for our meetings. Beware of Katharine Sands, please.
I remember when Jonestown happened. I was a year out of my senior graduation from high school. When ABC news broadcasted the first image of the scene over the Pavillion, the country was in shock. Jonestown was the talk of my school. I am sure every school. I just purchased this book. Thank you for remembering the young kids, who were under tyranny, and were powerless to do anything.
It's unfortunate that the author chose to read her presentation in the manner one would read to a three year old child. As a result it is far too distracting and un-listenable.😖
Beautiful people xx Tricked n trapped xxx uk
Don’t be a racialist racializer like racist racialist AOC, and start racializing people to other folks like racialist colonizer of the discourse of minimum.🙄 kzread.info/dash/bejne/eJ-s2LCekrCqcbw.html our name isn’t a skin color! 🙄😬 we are not a shibboleth, we are not a label that you make up, and especially not a ”race’ skin “color”🙄 of racialism, and our name certainly isn’t an antonym or gradable antonym of anybody’s racist legal construct identity of “white”🙄. please stop racializing us as racialist “color” 😬🙄stereotypes “brown” 🙄(that isn’t our name, that is a racialist stereotype) because we are not a color label that is a synecdoche of some presupposition of a single phenotypical trait and we have a name, so say our name, and don’t racialize us! We aren’t a shibboleth, we never were a shibboleth, color labels are archetype racialist behavior and racist racialist labeling and moreover, colonialist people lording their pseudoscientific racialist identity of “whiteness’ over people by labeling them antonyms or gradable antonyms of their pseudoscientific racialist identity is racist and downright ignorant, and shows how insular and racialist they are. Say our name!!! and for your information, our name isn’t a skin color! 🙄😬
A nation of… A nation of dypshyts A nation of leucistic faces endlessly spewing biglies & ignorance A nation of fascists A nation of racists A nation of colonialists A nation of menticide sufferers A nation of landlairds A nation of fee A nation of costs A nation of lies A nation of “race” A nation of corrupted A nation of settlers A nation of myths A nation of hagiography A nation of bigots A nation of exclusionary detailed discourse A nation of agitprop A nation of insufferable settlers too ignorant to endure A nation of Hollywood movies The nation of streaming validations for the social dominance group A nation of endless war A nation of structural discrimination A nation of structurally corrupt & structurally racist coercive monopoly over the “nation” A nation of fiscal military eurasian colony pretending it’s a “nation” A nation of spectators of the settler spectacle A nation of television watchers A nation of fish in a barrel A nation of gameplayers engaged in endless farcical competitions (wheee!) A nation of people who “reach levels” constantly… in video games A nation of marks A nation of settlers dying to have their false consciousness validated A nation that is Eurasian supremacist, but pretends that it isn’t A nation that traffics and even codifies pseudoscience, including “race” A nation that is not a nation but a colony fronting its euphemism “nation” A nation which is nothing but a 400+ year-old anti-indigenous anti-non-Eurasian eliminationism industrial complex with an appendage commodified victim blaming cottage industry
Thanks so much for this. There is far too little material on the 1856 vigilance committee on youtube
please shorten the intro
These poor teens. None of us can even imagine the existence they lived. You know, through the years I have brainstormed ideas of how the US or someone could have rescued these people but I think, especially toward the end it would have been impossible. That or there would have been extreme bloodshed as Jones had his armed men and so many of the people were so beaten down in everyway plus they were half starved. True respect and love for all of these souls that were lost.
What a treat for those of us who follow Amee LeDuc and Cara Black. Thank you MI.
I looked up her school from back then, and it appears to be a very low level (e.g. they didn't teach dick) JHS/HS that actually went out of business in 1980. This woman won awards in a school that had 5 full time teachers and 47 students, but with a 25% score on math and science skills? Sigh...
God. Bless. Emperor. Norton. King. Of. Amercia
Last minute of this video; RE bear attacks handler, why? The bear was satisfied that the man was locked up with it - equity. But then the man (Kenneman) was released but the bear was to remain confined - inequity. That is Hellacious! IMHO
I've been studying about nuclear history for the past few years and was stunned to learn how much we spend -- I think $73 billion is the current budget, and $700 billion over the years -- building and maintaining and upgrading weapons we hope never to use. They are supposed to assure our national security; but I think homelessness is a clear sign of our national insecurity. We can do better. We must raise our collective consciousness to develop human and humane priorities. This has been an eye-opening conversation, a clear contribution to the enlightenment we need.
The Older generation didn’t kill them,,, their own Stupidity and Joining a Cult killed them… Moral of story, Don’t join a Cult, don’t give over everything to someone else’s control.
My grandfather!
I have compassion for all the victims. Unless you've walked a mile in someone else's shoes we can't judge them
I have compassion for most of them, but after listening to every available audio recording, I can’t feel sympathy for every single one.
They were gullible fools. Woke up too late.
Are these designs copyrighted or public domain? Like, can anyone reproduce them?
So, apparently this "Cyprian wantonness" somehow was existing in substitution for there being no women? Sounds pretty interesting! I guess the very beginning of gay culture in olde S.F. ? Hmm! This must be investigated.
Nice perspective on aging. Lots of commonsense advice that's good to know even before becoming an "elder." All about being proactive and the many diverse ways the aging process presents in different people.
Oh, how very helpful, insightful and encouraging! Thank you!
So glad!
Music, street protests, books, social media all fail as channels of rebellion. Rather publish your protest on so-called sovereign, monopoly, money. Remember, a statement of sovereignty is not secular.
😆 𝐩𝓻Ỗ𝓂Ø𝓈Ｍ
AGENT WANTED
I hope to see more exciting videos like this one in the near future! You really need P r o m o s m!
This story is about the saddest I've ever heard.
Enjoyed your poems. And your unique word choices enhanced the poems emotional impact and kept me engaged throughout. I’m a poet specializing in Japanese forms: haiku, tanka, haibun, kyoka, senryu. I hope you don’t mind me sharing a tanka and my haiku, a tribute poem to Bashō’s frog with commentary by the late AHA founder and poet Jane Reichhold who considered my Basho haiku among her top 10 haiku of all time. What an honor. Here’s the Bashō poem and commentary: Bashō’s frog four hundred years of ripples At first the idea of picking only 10 of my favorite haiku seemed a rather daunting task. How could I review all the haiku I have read in my life and decide that there were only 10 that were outstanding? Then realized I was already getting a steady stream of excellent haiku day by day through the AHA forum. The puns and write-offs based on Basho's most famous haiku are so numerous I would have said that nothing new could be said with this method, but here Al Fogel proved me wrong. Perhaps part of my delight in this haiku lies in the fact that I agree with him. Here he is saying one thing about realism-ripples are on a pond after a frog jumps in, but because it refers back to Basho and his famous haiku, he is also saying something about the haiku and authors who have followed him. We, and our work, are just ripples while Basho holds the honor of inventing the idea of the sound of a frog leaping is the sound of water As haiku spreads around the world, making ripples in more and larger ponds, its ripples are wider-including us all. But his last word reminds us all that we are ripples and our lives ephemeral. It will be the frogs that will remain. ~~ And my tanka: returning home from a Jackson Pollock exhibition I smear my face with paint and morph into art ~~ -All love in isolation from Miami Beach, Florida, EnjoyedEnjoyed your poems. And your unique word choices enhanced the poems emotional impact and kept me engaged throughout. I’m a poet specializing in Japanese forms: haiku, tanka, haibun, kyoka, senryu. I hope you don’t mind me sharing a tanka and my haiku, a tribute poem to Bashō’s frog with commentary by the late AHA founder and poet Jane Reichhold who considered my Basho haiku among her top 10 haiku of all time. What an honor. Here’s the Bashō poem and commentary: Bashō’s frog four hundred years of ripples At first the idea of picking only 10 of my favorite haiku seemed a rather daunting task. How could I review all the haiku I have read in my life and decide that there were only 10 that were outstanding? Then realized I was already getting a steady stream of excellent haiku day by day through the AHA forum. The puns and write-offs based on Basho's most famous haiku are so numerous I would have said that nothing new could be said with this method, but here Al Fogel proved me wrong. Perhaps part of my delight in this haiku lies in the fact that I agree with him. Here he is saying one thing about realism-ripples are on a pond after a frog jumps in, but because it refers back to Basho and his famous haiku, he is also saying something about the haiku and authors who have followed him. We, and our work, are just ripples while Basho holds the honor of inventing the idea of the sound of a frog leaping is the sound of water As haiku spreads around the world, making ripples in more and larger ponds, its ripples are wider-including us all. But his last word reminds us all that we are ripples and our lives ephemeral. It will be the frogs that will remain. ~~ And my tanka: returning home from a Jackson Pollock exhibition I smear my face with paint and morph into art ~~ -All love in isolation from Miami Beach, Florida, Al Al
Brief Bio: I’m Al Fogel born in 1945 and at an early age began writing poems. In 1962 I was introduced to a neighbor who just returned from Avatar Meher Baba’s “ East west” gathering and handed me a book titled “The Everything and the Nothing” that included brief but powerful passages by Meher Baba that touched me deeply and i became a “ Baba Lover” In 2010 while on Jane Reichhold’s AHA website workshopping poems I befriended a Chinese man who helped me perfect my Senryu and Haibun. I am now considered one of the nations leading authorities on Tanka , Senryu, and Haibun. Here are some examples of each of my specialties. They are all from the contemporary American format. Senryu ( senryu is the humorous human side of haiku. Usually 3 lines but can be 2 or 1 line so long as it is 17 syllables or less). It is considered the humorous human side of haiku. For example, the following two of mine are horrific and heartbreaking dealing with the Holocaust): cattle cars - between the slats human eyes ~ Stutthof - the stench of burnt smoke from the chimneys (And here are some more examples): thrift store purchase inside the leather jacket a tarnished half-heart ~ dentist chair the hygienist removes my Bluetooth ~ Internet argument all his words in CAPS hers in EMOTICONS ~ after the divorce he spends more time at the dollar store ~ damsel in distress Clarke Kent still searching for a phone booth ~ cauliflower ears once a contender now boxing vegetables ~ under the influence - moonshine ~ Audubon sale all variety of seeds. . . early birds welcome ~ Buddhist fortune cookie the unfolded paper reads “ better luck next birth!” ~ sudden downpour. . . adults run for shelter ~ sidewalk cafe birds and people tweeting ~ Crowded crosswalk the “seeing eye” dog leads the way ~ deserted train depot a long line of tracks leading nowhere ~~ return to my youth lit by the tracks of Lionel trains. ~ Tanka: (Tanka is comprised of 5 lines of 31 syllables or less. Usually there are far less syllables) Here are 3 examples: returning home from a Jackson pollock exhibition I smear my face with paint and morph into art ~ crowded bus a young lady offers me her seat it seems like only yesterday I was offering mine ~ deserted train depot a conductor shouting “ All Aboard!” now a long line of tracks leading nowhere ~ Haibun: ( the haibun consists of a prose section with one or more haiku that must in some way relate to the prose. All Haibun have titles Here are some examples: The Mathematics of Retribution “Karma is unfathomable,” I inform her It’s late and our conversation turns heavy “ Seems simple to me, “my girlfriend responds. “If I murder you, then it’s reasonable that I will be murdered in this or another life to balance the ledger.” “ Not necessarily so” I’m quick to rejoin. “What if you murdered me in this life because I murdered you in a prior life karmic debts and dues are now equalized.” “But what if I get caught and I go to jail for life. Where’s the equal payback in that?” “As I said, karma is unfathomable.” We continue discussing reincarnation and then add the possibilities of “group karma” to the mix Finally, at about midnight, we fall asleep Stutthof - the stench of burnt hair from the chimneys ~~ Mama There were days when I pretended to be too sick to go to school - - just for mamas loving embrace -her arms the heat of home Even with the onset of dementia, her cheerfulness was so contagious it was a joy being around her despite the illness. She made everyone laugh with her spontaneous unpredictable behavior. nursing home bumper wheelchair her favorite pastime Once a week I would whisk her away from the assisted-living facility and we would spend several hours together -grabbing a meal or frequenting some of her favorite second-hand stores where she loved to shop and donate clothes. When we drove to her favorite thrift in November, her dementia worsened. thrift store the dress mama donated she wants to buy On a cold December morn mama passed. The funeral was simple. There was a light drizzle as the family gathered at the gravesite. One by one, with eyes full of rain, we said our last goodbyes. autumn twilight - oh mama tuck me under hug me one more time ~ ‘Round Midnight It was a huge ballroom on the top floor of a building on Broadway --an important midtown crossroads in the heart of the Great White Way. My uncle still talks with reverence about how -in his heyday -he would travel by rail to the corner of Lenox and walk inside to the beat of jungle music. Who knew what to expect? One night you might be listening with rapt attention to Theloneous Monk and Dizzy Gillespie the godfathers of bebop in their signature beret caps, or the Nicholas Brothers flashing their wild acrobatic spins and splits, or enchanted by the sweet taste of Brown Sugar -with Bojangles out front. And when the Bird was in flight, even the moon was not high enough. But in 1940 the ballroom closed its doors to make way for a commercial housing development and another kind of night. Harlem The A-train replaced by the Bullet ~ Atlantic City New Jersey I had just graduated from high school I remember stopping for saltwater taffy -as evening journeyed slowly into night. Nearing curfew, we sat on a protruded sandy enclave--holding hands, looking out at the ocean, not saying much. In the distance the lights from an ocean liner flickered as the night kept coming on in... first “french kiss” under the boardwalk “over the moon!” ~~ All love, Al
I hope you don’t mind me sharing the following poem, one of my all time favorite meta poetic poems by a poet named “Howard Dull” titled “Suibhne Gheilt” that I recently chanced upon. When I read it, I became speechless. And most of my poetry friends consider this as one of their all time favorites. It was published in a 1970s anthology titled “ Open Poetry” and proves that once Poetry hits you in your heart, you could be the worst nefarious scoundrel with kings at your bidding and Empires at your command but you will be transformed and never again return to your former Self. ~~ Suibhne Gheilt 1 He has haunted me now for over a year that madman Suibhne Gheilt who in the middle of a battle looked up and saw something that made him leap up and fly over swords and trees - a poet gifted above all others - 11 How could a proud loud mouth who yelled KILL KILL KILL as he plowed done the enemy - heads rolling off of his sword - be so lifted up ( or fly up as those below saw it - wings beating) be so suddenly gifted with poetry and nest so high in Ireland’s tall trees? Is there a point where all paths cross? And why am I so drawn to him that all my questions seem shot in his direction? “And they ran into the woods and threw their lances and shot their arrows up through the branches” What parallels could I ever hope to find - my refusal to fight ( weaseling out on psychiatric grounds)? my leaving my country behind? my poetry? “and my wife wept on the path below. . . Oh memory is sweet but sweeter is the sorrel in the pool in the path below” I fly down every night to eat 111 Sweeney like the rest of us would have been better off if he had never anything to do with women. But the point of it lies hidden in a pool of milk in a pile of shit for you to see when a milkmaid smiles Sweeney like the rest of us flies down and when she pours the milk into the hole her heel made in the cowdung Sweeney like the rest of us kneels down and drinks and dies on the horn the cowherd hid in it. So before you have anything to do with women remember Sweeney the bird of Ireland lying on his back in the middle of that path in the moonlight. 1V And on my way home this morning ( my wife waiting) my shadow racing up the path ahead of me I saw something ( a black stone?) thrown at the back of its head ducked and spun around so fast I almost fell down - it was a bird flying up into a tree V No good could come out of this war out of what burns in the heart of our highly disciplined John Q. Killer as a whole village bursts into one flame - the villagers streaming like tears towards the forest cover his helicopter’s blades blow the leaves off and and the flame towards. . . as we sit in front of our bubbles watching our president ( whose bubbletalk no one can escape and he is a little bit mad -calling the reporters in for an interview while he’s sitting on the bubble having a bubble movement) and first lady climb into their big bubble bed an Lucy, born of their own bubbles, crawls in between - “ Mah daddy has so many troubles turning the world into a bubble and sick of crossfire - the cries of the women and children flying over his head - he stumbled down to the riverbank and found, the wreckage twisted around the tree behind, his skull. . . Noises, there are noises, noises that can of themselves drive a man mad -NOISES! But last night the Stockhausen penetrated from the four sides of the auditorium, stripping each layer of feeling and thought until all that was left was something the size of a nut - so tiny, so hard, so impenetrable it was alone in the middle of an infinite space. . . -Howard Dull ~~ ps: Howard Dull was such an obscure poet that he never published a book and ( to my knowledge) never published another poem. But OMG, this was so brilliant that in my opinion it should be read and studied at the college level. All love in isolation from Miami Beach, Florida, Al
Brief