What’s the relationship between religion and culture? How do anthropologists understand religion? How do you understand the great diversity of different religions? Find out in less than ten minutes.
Author: michaelkilman
Anthropology in 10 or Less: Episode 8: Race Part 3: Eugenics, Social Darwinism, and Human Zoos
In our third part in our series on Race, we explore the consequences of the concept of Race, which included Eugenics, Social Darwinism, and Human Zoos.
The Mastery
The Mastery
It’s all there,
What we once were,
What we are.
It never left the heart.
I assure you.
Patient Shadows can abide in darkness.
And As we walk forward on the grated metal path,
Can you hear that echo against your feet?
It means you’re moving.
It means you’re making progress.
But what progress is needed,
When it’s all there already?
There’s no need to deny it.
I assure you.
Patient Shadows burn in the brilliant light,
They don’t mind.
There’s no pain.
I assure you.
Do you see the path yet?
It’s outlined,
it’s obvious
What’s the matter?
Don’t you trust it?
Your eyes don’t deceive you.
It’s safe,
I assure you.
The shadows is in you,
Why do you run?
Turn,
Stop.
Smell the sweet scent of the flowers.
Or the Fucking Roses.
Does your heart quicken?
It should.
There’s no puzzle,
No pieces missing.
It’s all there.
I assure you.
But don’t listen to me.
Maybe I’m a lying bastard.
Look up,
Walk the path,
See the shadows,
Smell the roses,
Find the fuck out for yourself.
That’s the only way you’ll know.
I assure you.
The Language
The Language
Like scratches of the mad prisoner,
The symbols take shape.
Emergence…
Whispering like ghosts,
My ears only hear,
Their maddening consistency.
Beginning…
Pressing forward out my eyes,
Soft black tears,
Dripping downward.
Then…
Running down my arm,
The ink creeps forward,
Towards its destiny.
Form…
It splashes onto the moth
As colorful as its wings may be,
Black ink still stains,
Keeping forever echoes.
Tattoos of transformation,
Touching timidly
Until,
At Last…
Anthropology in 10: Episode 107: The Sapir/Whorf Hypothesis
Of What Mountains Are Made
Of What Mountains are Made
Heartbeat,
Heartache,
Heartbeat,
Heartache,
Round the circle,
It forms from further away.
Shadows casting nets,
Masking my face,
They don’t let me see through their gaping holes.
All I see is the rope that binds me.
It’s is a beautiful rope and bares further inspection.
See the weave?
See the loom that made it?
See the origins of the great net in which we are bound?
Bound or unbound?
We need only stand.
We need only move.
And the weave unravels.
You have a choice,
Heartbeat
Heartache
Heartbeat
Heartache
Are they different?
Anthropology in 10 or Less: Race Part 2: The Origin of the Concept of Race
Wisdom Sits
Wisdom Sits
Some of us chase it.
Like a lioness stalking a gazelle
We hope that after many failed hunts,
We will learn that right moment to strike,
We will learn that effortlessness,
So that we may gorge ourselves,
And feast on the entrails of the great masters.
Some of us read and study
And spend endless days tallying terms and ideas
Like accountants during tax season
We hope that one day,
The great epiphany will rise,
Like a snake’s head in tall grass.
And all the words will belch,
Their great secrets,
Granting Enlightenment
But often,
When we find it,
Its simplicity confounds us.
Some have a glance or receive a cursory nod,
But those who merge with it,
Who like butter on bread merge and meld for a better taste,
They understand its simplicity.
Wisdom Sits.
Door to Nowhere
Door to Nowhere
Down the hall and to the left
Then back round again
The door stands before the dark corridor
I look
There is light there
But Vision is blurry
Legs are tied
Will is waning
No time now
How many more doors to nowhere?
Was this the last dead end?
Only one way to know
Loridian's Laboratory 