Sunday, June 16, 2002

Today's NY Times has an article about the 22nd Annual National Barbie Doll Collectors Convention in Denver.



Some of the observations will resonate for Philip K. Dick fans; he was definitely on to something in "The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch."


"It's all about projecting themselves onto the Barbie. The most refreshing aspect of this event was hearing the participants acknowledge - even volunteer - that self-analysis. "I can't afford a Mackie," Ms. Ballard said.



"I can't afford a Versace. But my Barbie can. And I can imagine myself wearing it." No denial at this show. Terms like "vicarious," "role-playing" and "projection" were tossed about like vinyl replacement parts."


On the other hand, there were attendees that could afford Mackies and Versaces, but can only enjoy them in a Barbie state of mind.


"If this were a Hollywood movie, Ms. Baumer might be cast as an unfulfilled suburban housewife, fleeing to Denver, where Barbie could block out the emptiness of her existence. But she's actually a physician and chairman of the family medicine department at the largest public hospital in Fort Worth.



Ms. Alegre is a registered nurse heading up two units at Ventura County Medical Center in California. She flew herself to Denver in her own Beechcraft T-34. And each woman raised children while pursuing her career.


But sometimes, they just want to have fun.


"We were really active in the feminist movement," Dr. Baumer explained. "But it tended to ignore sexuality, which was kind of silly." There were very few housewives at this convention. Most were successful professionals - ambitious overachievers eager to slip into four-inch pumps and marabou swing coats, toss back a couple of bonbons and savor the brief heady taste of a blissfully unambitious, Barbie lifestyle."


Across the country there are housewives that are "closet collectors," keeping their Barbies hidden in the upper shelves among the sweaters and spare blankets.


"They sneak off from families and husbands to nestle in among the shoe trees, pull down the treasured boxes and compose elaborate dioramas: Barbie facilitating a brainstorming session, Barbie treating trauma victims in the emergency room, Barbie embarking on a mission to outer space."



There is a large peripheral industry supplementing the Barbie universe. Top designers are commissioned to produce signature gowns to Barbie dimensions, and every year there is a new wedding dress. Mattel is not the only manufacturer anymore. Although they are not licensed for the most part, there are companies that design clothing and accessories to Barbie dimensions for the enthusiast.



Whenever dolls crop up in horror or fantasy, the focus is on the eeriness of the doll itself. However, I find it is the relationship to the doll that is fascinating.

oooh... good day, Sunday.



There's an opening right next door to my brother's apartment... I'd be two doors over from him, if I get it!



How cool would that be? very!



I hope it works out... it's right near los olas, and downtown ft. lauderdale, but far enough away to be away from the crime and noise. Nearby bus routes and better amenities. *crossing fingers*



I'll know more Monday night.



No dice on getting together with the hippies today, but I had a wonderful lunch and video-game session with the bro... not to mention just hanging out and talking.

all are located here, incase of broken links. - http://www.picturetrail.com/scottobear/839678



Spidah-main!

spidey



A fellow lurker, waiting for the bus

bus stop man



Also Hanging out at 10th and Federal

waitin' for the bus



A birdie

boid




question and answer

questionanswer!

Navajo Talkers - the truth is more interesting to me than the movie, I think. :)


When Navajos Fought Japanese for Ne-He-Mah


By DAVID KAHN



t is the most romantic story in American cryptology. To keep the Japanese from getting American secrets in World War II, Navajos — among the original Americans — spoke over the radio in their native tongue.



The new film "Windtalkers," which opened nationally yesterday, celebrates these Marine Corps codetalkers with typical Hollywood overstatement. The idea that each codetalker had a bodyguard who was to kill him if he was in danger of being captured never happened. (Marines don't kill other marines.) And the claim that the Navajo code "was ultimately the only one never broken" isn't true either. Actually most American cryptograms were not solved by the Japanese, who read at best a couple of antiquated diplomatic codes and some low-level military cryptosystems.



But the history of the real codetalkers is no less remarkable. The idea of using Navajos to conceal the content of Marine messages came from Philip Johnston, a missionary's son who grew up on their reservation speaking the language. Of course, people have long spoken in foreign languages when they didn't want eavesdroppers to understand them. In World War I, eight Choctaws manned trench telephones for the Army's 36th Division. According to an article in the scholarly quarterly Cryptologia by Stephen Huffman, trials were made during World War II with Comanches, Ojibwas, Oneidas, Sac-Foxes and Muskogees.



But Mr. Johnston saw that the 50,000-member Navajo tribe offered a sufficiently large pool of English- and Navajo-speaking young men. And he knew that no Germans, Japanese or Italians had studied the language, whose complexities defy both interception and interpretation. It includes sounds that don't exist in German, Italian, Japanese or English. For example, the word doc pronounced with a low tone means "not"; with a high tone, it means "and." And while English and Navajo distinguish between unvoiced and voiced consonants (f is unvoiced, v is voiced), Navajo also has ejective consonants, expressed with a burst of breath. An enemy wanting to decode messages in Navajo would first have to transcribe those unfamiliar sounds. But would the decoder know what to listen for and how to notate them?



Moreover, Navajo verbs have different grammatical modes to denote different points in time, among other things. A speaker must use one form if he himself was aware of the start of rain, another if he believes rain was falling for some time in his locality before he noticed it, and so on. The Navajo verb, one anthropologist has said, is "like a tiny imagist poem." Thus na'il-dil means "You are accustomed to eat plural separable objects one at a time." This linguistic and phonetic complexity makes the language not only difficult for non-Navajos to understand but almost impossible to counterfeit.



Mr. Johnston persuaded the Marines to let him demonstrate his idea. On Feb. 28, 1942, four Navajos living in the Los Angeles area were given five messages to send in Navajo. Although there were inaccuracies when a Navajo misheard the message, Maj. Gen. Clayton B. Vogel, commander of the Amphibious Force of the Pacific Fleet, realized the potential of the Navajos. He recommended to the commandant of the Marine Corps that they be recruited and trained for secret spoken communications.



By the beginning of May, the first 29 had been inducted, and they received basic training and were sent to Camp Elliott, Calif., to prepare as codetalkers. Their language did not have words for "bomber," "tank," "colonel" and other military terms, and sometimes words had to be spelled out in English so that the English-speaking commanders could transmit and receive orders unambiguously. To overcome these difficulties, the Navajos devised a code. This had to be memorized, as no paper copies were to be carried into the combat zones where the codetalkers worked. For military items, they chose words that evoked the objects themselves. Thus, tank was chay-da-ga-hi, or "tortoise." Observation plane was ne-ahs-jah, "owl." Brigadier general was so-a-la-ih, "one star." Soldiers were lei-cha-ih-yil-knee-hi, "dog faces."



Some terms had to be arbitrary: din-neh-ih which means "clan," was used for corps; has-clish-nih or "mud," for platoon.



The codetalkers spelled English words by using the Navajo word whose English translation had the initial letter needed. For a, for example, the codetalkers said wol-la-chee, "ant," or be-la-sa-na, "apple," or tse-null, "axe." If a Navajo term would serve, they used that: tse-ye-chee for "cliff." They used Navajo numbers. By the end of the war, the code dictionary ran eight typed pages and was used by about 420 Marine codetalkers in the Pacific.



A chief advantage of the code talker system was its speed. Encrypting a written message, radioing it in Morse code, transcribing the incoming text and decrypting it often took an hour or more. The Navajos handled a message in minutes.



Electrical scramblers that turned talk into incomprehensible, Donald Duck-like sounds for transmission existed during World War II. But they were bulky and delicate, not suitable for front-line work and not as secure as the Navajo system. The Germans cracked the A-3 trans-Atlantic scrambler and eavesdropped on some Roosevelt-Churchill conversations. The electronic Sigsaly system, which was absolutely secure, took up as much space as a freight car. Today, secure cellular telephones encrypt using tiny chips.



But during the Pacific war, with such technology not available, the Navajo codetalkers provided secure, authenticated oral communications during battle. Indeed, the usefulness of their information often expired within hours. They were first deployed on Sept. 18, 1942, on Guadalcanal. In that island-hopping war they served as well on Bougainville, New Britain, Saipan, Tinian, Guam, Peleliu, Iwo Jima and Okinawa.



During the first 48 hours of the Iwo Jima landing, the signal officer of the Fifth Marine Division operated six Navajo radio nets, whose codetalkers sent more than 800 messages without error. It was a codetalker message that reported that the Marines had reached the summit of Mount Suribachi, where the famous flag-raising took place. The Japanese never interpreted a single message.