6,369 research outputs found

    Music & Archaeology

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    Music inspired by the prehistory of specific place

    Do dolphins benefit from nonlinear mathematics when processing their sonar returns?

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    An interview with author Tim Leighton about the paper

    Tim Di Muzio on 'Sabotage'

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    In a series of essays published in 2013 and 2014 on capitaspower.com, political economist Tim Di Muzio explored the concept of ‘sabotage’ as it applies to capitalist power. I recently rediscovered these essays and was so impressed by them that I have reposted them here as a single piece. About the author: Tim Di Muzio is a researcher at the University of Wollongong. He is the author of numerous books, including Debt as power, Carbon capitalism, and The 1% and the Rest of us

    1996-1997 Tim Gautreaux

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    Tim Gautreaux is the author of three novels and two earlier short story collections. His work has appeared in The New Yorker, The Best American Short Stories, The Atlantic, Harper’s, and GQ. After teaching for thirty years at Southeastern Louisiana University, he now lives, with his wife, in Chattanooga, Tennessee. (Photo credit: Randy Bergeron)https://egrove.olemiss.edu/grisham_res/1023/thumbnail.jp

    Champion Magazine

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    This 38-page publication titled Champion Magazine was created in 1981 and is issue number 9. The magazine examines the impact that the Carolina Division of Champion Paper and Fibre Company had on the region, its economy, its folkways and its people since its founding in 1906 and includes a variety of articles and photographs.-:==:o::-::--- NUMBER 9 -----------j( , The Champion Magazine ,) f------------------,,..A--=c=-=E--1:- r Seventy-five years in Carolina. It w-as in 1906 that Peter G. Tho111son arrived in North Carolina's Haywood County to survey the virgin forests of the Great Smoky Mountains. Champion's eventual decision to build a mill there, near the tiny mountain cove of Pigeon Ford, marked the begin­ning of the forest products industry in western North Carolina, and to some degree, of the New South. This story examines the impact of the company on the region, its economy, its folkways and its peo­ple- people like James A. Trantham, a man in comfortable equilibrium between two seem­ingly contradictory worlds. Trantham is a supervisor of ship­ment control at Champion's pulp and paper mill at Canton, North Carolina, and he lives in a 200-year­old house that served as a patriot's command post in a pivotal battle of the Revolutionary War. When he is not working at the mill, Jim Trantham builds exquisite musical instruments-fiddles, banjos, gui­tars, and dulcimers-from the wal­nut and native red spruce of the surrounding Great Smoky Moun­tains. He is also an introspective man who thinks a great deal about the meaning of his home commu­nity and its place ln modern times. "There are trade-offs in every­thing;' he says. "That is one of the lessons of our world. It was a mixed blessing, the coming of industry to western North Carolina, one of the last strongholds against modernity. If your main interest is nostalgia, you might lament the loss of some of our old ways. "But practically, when Peter G. Thomson of Cincinnati brought his new Champion Fibre Company Canton's No.12 paper madJine in 1932 (facing), the most efficient unit of its lime. to Canton in 1906, it meant that the people of the Pigeon River watershed could, at last, rise above the subsistence level and gain a measure of assurance and self­esteem. The people here had been cut off and ostracized for too long by both the state and federal gov­ernments ever since the end of the Civil War:· Haywood County was ignored because it was poor and isolated: geographical ly, it is like an immense, leaf-shaped bowl poised at the western extremity of North by H.R. Meier H.R. "Bud" Meier is Champion's manager of public relations, midwest area Photography by Tom Hollyman Carolina. The bowl tilts toward the nonh, and Tennessee. Through a gap in the mountains, the Pigeon River discharges the waters of its hundreds of tributaries toward the lVA lakes. The rim of the bowl is comprised of the most scenic mountain ranges in all of the east­ern United States: the Great Smok­ies to the north, the Newfound range to the east, the Pisgah Ridge to the west and the Balsam Moun­tains to the south. Between, like the veins of a leaf, are narrow stretches of comparatively smooth land: "balds" on top of the ridges and miniature valleys or "coves" lying near the base of the mountains. Old Haywood County place­names tell of the rugged topogra­phy. Rabbit Skin is a section of poor, thin soil. Tite-Run, on a stream near Clyde, is a section of road so narrow that it was difficult to drive the cattle through. Sher-in (Shut-In) is a point on the Pigeon River choked by rugged hills, which had stoppe9 the logical route of the highway for years. Those highways were nonexis­tent when Thomson, seeking a dependable supply of high-grade spruce pulp for his paper and coat­ing machines in Hamilton, Ohio, stepped from a dusty day coach on his first visit to Canton. The tiny community of 400 was then the next to last stop on the Murphy Branch of the Southern Railroad- -:-c-::-:-::-:=-=--------------~C The Champion Mag~r--------------- :-~uMnER . ~) PAGE\ Tbe porrraiiS of mountain people (left) were made ~v the great American realist, Doris Ulmann 0894·1934). Ulmarm tram/led tbrottgh North Carolim1 in the late 1920s and early 30s, seardJing out people wbose cbarac· ters and faces expressed a sbared qualily-which Ulmtlllll called "genuine· ness. " Sbe hoped her pbotOgraphs would sbow tbe t'ariety and beauty of tbe mountaineers' bandic:rafiS and suggest that if tbey were prouided uWIJ a market, the people mfgbt sun•it•e. Ulmann:~ primary goal was the recording and preserva· tfon of tbe images of a people sbe feared were a dying breed. But despite precartOtiS economic CO/UliliOIIS, lbe people pra. t•alfed Mrs. Carrie jolly (rigbl) is tbe wife of retired Cbampion Roy jolly Pbotographed at ber Mountabl Rest, Soutb Car­olfna bome in 1977 at tbe age of 80, Mrs. jolly's presence reflects tbe same "genuineness" of tbe Ulmann porrraus, one generation later It bas been more tban 100 years since tbe passenger pigeon (abol'e) u·ould darken tbe skies of the sowheastern United Slates The species, e.winct since 1914, gave its name to tbe Pigeon Rwer; tbe main watercourse of Haywood County and a major arteryfor Cbampion 's mill at Camon Alrbougb the bird is gone, tbe area Still abounds with wildlife: [zsb of man)' kinds inhabit the regions lakes and strear1ts, deer and bear compnse a significant big game population, and numerous small creatures prowl tbe upland forest two brave streaks of steel through perhaps the richest forestland in America. And how the forest dominated! Farmland around Canton at the wrn of the centurv sold for as little as 75 cents an acre. Although the counl)r paid a bounty of two dollars for each "wolf's sculp" (scalp), insolvents seemed almost as numerous as taxpaying citizens. Farm wages for a ten-hour day were a dollar for skilled men; 35 cents and dinner for women; 10 to 25 cents for children, accordjng to age and size. Wheat sold for a dollar a bushel, smoked side meat brought 12V2 cems a pound, eggs were 10 cents a dozen and a black­smith would charge only a nickel, or nothing, to sharpen the plow­share of some poor farmer. The ear ly settlers of Haywood County were short of coin, but they pos!)essed energy and determina­tion in abundance. Many were Scot· tish Highlanders, Germans and Irish who rumbled down into the region via the "Great Philadelphia Wagon Road" or Oed up from the malarial tidewater flats of the coastal plain, across the central Piedmom Plmeau to the enfolding coolness of the Blue Ridge. The most numerous of these immigrants were the "Scotch-Irish:· a term which refers to those Low­land Scots who were forciblv relo· cared to the North of Ireland by England's King james 1. Larer, they moved to America in droves, driven by famine, economic hard times, and "rack-reming" landlords. Often clannish and firmly set in his ways, the Scotch-Irishman had this prayer attributed to him: "Lord, grant that I may always be right, for Thou knowest I am hard to turn:· Of his proverbial thrift it was said, "He keeps the commandments of God and every other good thing he can get his hands on:· Presbyt:eri· anism, of course, was his religion. Horace Kephart, in his book, Our Soutbern lfigblanders, tells of an elderly CO\'C lady who, when asked if there were any Episcopali­ans around, replied, "J don't know. but Him's got the skins of a lot of varmints up in Lhe loft. 1\lebbe you can find one up thar" With their flint)· character, these Scmch-lrishmcn had, by necessil)•, become dediC'.ued, hardworking citizens of their new country and region by the time Peter G. Thorn- Many early settlers of Haywood County rumbled down into the region via the "Great Philadelphia Wagon Road." -=rA---:G:-:::E--:- 4---------------j( The Champion Magazine )r----------------- - _ NUMBER 9 son arrived on the North Carolina scene. They made great contribu­tions ro the body politic as well as churches and schools. Fierce war­riors and dedicated agriculturalists, they also possessed a wealth of mechanical skills. Capable coopers, joiners, wagon makers, smiths, and wheelwrightS awaited Thomson 75 years ago at the ford of the Pigeon, where large scale pulp and paper­making would gain their first major foothold in the South. Born of this stock, Jim Trantham's kin have resided in North Carolina for 150 years. He recalls from the conversation of his father and grandfather how naturally Champion fit into the community. All of the old-timers recognized Peter G. for the tough, canny Scot that he was-a survivor who had overcome plenty of adversity, a man who wasn't about to abandon the people who had helped him pros­per. "My dad, Artis;· reminisces Jim Trantham, "was a foreman in the chestnut extract plant at Canton when the blight shut it down in 1951. The company found a spot for him as supervisor in the tree nursery at Willits, North Carolina. Benevolence like this was not lost on the employees:' By this time, Reuben B. Robert­son, Sr., Thomson's Yale-trained son-in-law- both an attorney and an engineer-was firmly in com­mand of Champion's Carolina oper­ations. He had come to Canton, promising to spend 60 days. At the end of 60 years, he had become the driving force in what today is Champion International Corpora­tion: a man completely trusted, as few outsiders were, by his employ­ees from the coves, runs, hollows and towns of Haywood County. Pressed ro reflect further on the unique quality of life around Can­ton, Jim Trantham says, "As an instru­ment maker and folklorist, I would have to say that industry here has actually helped in the survival of tradition by nor intruding too much, politically or socially, on the life of its employees and the sur­rounding community. Folk art forms-which include dance, the old ans and crafts, and music-are as alive and well in Haywood County as any place in the u.s:· In nearby Waynesville, location of a Champion plant for the extrusion of plastic onto Canton paperboard for Champion's DairyPak division, and a large "cut-size" paper opera­tion, Clarence Donaldson gives e loquent expression to the folk art tradition . Donaldson, a tender on the No. 20 paper machine at Can­ton, is one of the region's most honored wood-carvers. His work, "cut our;· as he calls it, from black walnut and yellow poplar of the region, speaks to the people and occupations of the Blue Ridge: blacksmiths, woodchoppers, moon­shiners and just plain Old Codgers. Quick to point out that these pieces are not caricatures, Donald­son says proudly, "They're not dumb people, not ignorant. People from outside the Appalachian region still think of hillbillies, like the Hatfields and the McCoys, the old feuds and all. They think that's all there is down here. But time is gonna prove 'em wrong!" Donaldson is a second genera­tion, 30-year employee of the com­pany who allows that he was "raised and bred on Champion:· He sheds some light on the folk tradition when he uses the word "communi­cation" to describe the energy that flows between his knife and the wood he carves: "It's ajeeling between you and the piece you're working on. To me there's nothing more beautiful than wood. The fact is that man just can't duplicate it. Seems like a piece of wood appre­ciates you and you appreciate it' Folk art still flourishes in Haywood County. jim Trantham (right) and son Chris make dulcimers at home. Coopers, smiths, wagon makers, and wheel­wrights joined Champion to become pioneers in the South's first pulp and papermaking operation. -:P:-AG:.:-:E::-:6:,---------------- --l( The Champion Magazine )r------------------,,.,----=-=- . . NUMBER 9 Appreciation for Donaldson's work is now widespread. It has been circulated in the Smithsonian Institution's collection of Deep South folk art and is on display at the Appalachian Folk An Museum in Asheville, North Carolina. If wood carving is silence made tangible, then clog dancing is the oral tradition brought to stereo­phonic fever pitch. Picking them up and laying them down at 140 beats per minute in perfect time with the fiddle and banjo, their heels and toes augmented by metal shoe taps, Canton's Rough Creek Cloggers speak thunderously with their feet. Director Bob Phillips, supervisor of communications and community relations at the Canton mill, gets no argument when he says, "There are no fat clog dancers!" He explains that clog is an Appalachian variant of the square dance, with traditional figures and accompany· ing calls, bur in ultrafast time as opposed to the daintier, mincing "cowboy" or "country-western" square. Clog also reflects the ethnic heritage of the region-deriving from Scottish Highland dancing by way of the Virginia reel, also the Irish "Caley" jig and the incorpora­tion of some Black tap dancing steps. Typically, a Canton dogger keeps his or her back stiff while "walking the king's highway;' prom­enading, doing the do-si-do or performing some other figure tO the calls of Carroll Nelson and the rocketing fiddle and banjo of "Chinese Breakdown" or an equally frenetic tune. In their five years as a group, these two dozen dancers (of whom 16 compete as a team) have cap­tured most of the prestigious square dancing championships in the Southeast. In addition ro Direc­tor Bob Phillips, four ocher Champion employees are Rough Creekers: Harold Black, Frank Ford, Tim Smathers and Gene Belt. Phil­lips is right: there is not one fat clog dancer among them. Under the old ways in Haywood Coumy, square dancing was the only social event that both sexes could regularly join in. Other activi­ties were segregated by gender and were often more work than play. The men had their logrollings and barn raisings; the women their bean stringings and quilting bees. The quilting art has survived to a remarkable degree in the Canton-Waynesville area, and still follows many time-honored pat­terns brought ro the highlands by the Anglo-Saxon forebears of today's quilters. At a recent quilting bee in the Newfound Community home of Mrs. Elza Whitted (she is the mother of two Champion employ­ees), five ladies proudly displayed some of those patterns: the dahlia, basket, Dresden plate. fence row, and pansy. Then the ladies took their places about a huge frame dominating the living room and resumed stitching on a king-size quilt showing all of the 50 United States together with the state flow­ers. (North Carolina's bloom, the dogwood.) QuiltS as time-consum­ing to make as this one command up to 300 in today's marketplace. Mrs. Whitted's circle dedicates the proceeds from its sales to New­found's Zion Hill Baptist Church. The talk at Mrs. Whitted 's circle­of family, friends, schools, and community-must have been an echo of those other quilting bees so many years before. Long the only all-female form of amusement and recreation, the bee could also serve a utilitarian function. When a young lady decided to make her first quilt and the women of the community gave her a quilting bee, the event served as an informal engagement announcement. Conversation at the bee, which could also be likened tO the mod­ern bridal shower, was predomi­nantly "girl" talk: advice (sought or otherwise) to the prospective bride on the mysteries of matrimony. The young lady's finished quilt repre­sented her membership in a loose but very real society of hard work and high standards of achievement. More than one observer has said that Lhere was no time for nervous breakdowns in that society. A keeper of the work ethic, Elza Whitted says, "If I didn't have a hobby, l'd get in a car and loafer Champion .wmpler of early scene5 (left) Peelin8 bark by band for old sulfite mill at canton Homes for employees of lumbet· camp at SLmburw, now Lake logan. F1brel'ille, early company hous· ing, 11ear tbe Canton mill Early loggc.n lil•ed in moun­tain cabms, tbey cut and flumed logs to Canton null Retired OJam­PIOn crane operator Claude Warren (rigbt) W1tb au· -cured burley m tobacco bam at Cecil Commu­nity Many 0JampiOilS in tbearea are e.y-pert farmers and gardeners. Timber and tobacco are among tbe area's leading casb crops. - -------------------( The Champion Magazine )}----------------N-u~-,s-=E-=-9R P,\GF. 8 · Tbe wood carvings of Clarence Donaldson, a Canton paper madJine render, baue been circulated by tbe Smithsonian. He glues new life to a venerable folk tradition. somewhere:· Her adroit switch on the verb "loaf" is a pure example of how the spoken language of the Blue Ridge retains its authentic regional character without depart­ing too far from standard English. (Indeed, it could be argued that the language is less debased here, because of its affinity to the original tongue, than it is in the bureauc­racy of government and corpora­tions, and in much of the media.) This is not to say that Elizabethan English is still spoken locally. But the apt and colorful speech of the Southern highlands can still be heard in Haywood County. Cham­pion's Bob Phillips, referring to a small, independent sawmilling operation that would be termed a "peckerwood" in most lumbering areas, calls it a "fist and skull" oper­ation- most appropriate for a marginal installation of its kind. A locution still occasionally heard around Canton is to "brogue it"-a verb meaning walk, coined from the word brogan, for the shoes once worn here. Bodaciously, meaning bodily or entirely, is still encountered too, but the user now­adays is probably being self-con­sciously rural, or just plain cute. In an easy North Carolina drawl that underscores his concern for the future of Canton, urbane Hazel w. Ramsey speaks of Champion and its relation LO the community. His conversation reflects the close ties between the ci ty and the com- --------------------(( The Champion Magazine )>-- ---------------:-c-::-::--::- N"UM BER 9 . . PAGI! 9 An ultra fast AppaladJian variant of the square dance, clog demands superb physi· cal condition. Canton's Rougb Creek clog· gers speak thunderously witb their caps. pany. Ramsey, who is serving his third term as mayor of Canton ( population 4700), retired from Champion in 1976 after 39 years of service with the company-the last 15 as director of safety. Sitting in his office in Canton's ultramod­ern city hall, his wall adorned with a coveted 1980 "Community of Excellence" award from the gover­nor of North Carolina, Ramsey has an ideal vantage point from which to view Champion's historic impact on the area. He recalls Champion's primacy in its concern for the health, safety and economic welfare of its employees: longevity bonuses for all workers, pioneering wage incen­tives to stimulate productivity, com­pany- paid medical bills and hospitalization for accident victims. And he details the Champion Relief Association: "It administered the company store, delivering coal or firewood to the homes of com­pany employees at a fraction of the price charged by other vendors. A percentage of store profits was paid back to worker-members in cash or negotiable scrip at the end of the year. Champion would donate idle land so the association could till it at a profit. And if a wage earner was really up against it, the association would tide him over uoril better times:· Such paternalism has gone the way of the passenger pigeon, after which the area's dominant river was -:P:-AG~E::-:1-:0:------------------1( The Champion Magazine )r-------------------,N"""u"M"_u..E,.R:-:- 9 The ladies of Mrs. Elza Whilled's circle (above) work on an "All-American· quilt at a bee in ber New­found Community bome. Patcbwork quilts are tbe nations oldest artform; tbe bees provided rw·al women their only opporttt· nity to socialize. In the early days of Haywood County they also afforded a young girl an important rite of passage: her deci­sion to make her first quilt often served as an infor­mal announcement of ber engagement to he man·ied. Mrs. Coy Pressley (facing pctge) sells finished quilts, rugs, and otber handiwork at her gift shop in tbe Cecil Community. ~=-:-=--------------------1( The Champion Magazine )~-----------------:-::-::-:c::-::-::--::- PAGE 12 . . NUMBER 9 Champion and the city of Camon have long shared water from the company's reservoir aJ Lake Logan, typical of the cooperation between tbem. named. But Mayor Ramsey sees a modern parallel in the traditional cooperation between the company and his city. Canton has first call on the water it and Champion share from the company's reservoir at Lake Logan. The community and corporation have long swapped, in emergencies, such vital equipment as valves, hoses, connectors, etc. Taxpayers (of which Champion is the largest, contributing some 500,000 per year to city coffers) also enjoy significant savings by the city's buying at discount certain bulky commodities-salt for snow removal is one-through the Can­ton mill's purchasing department. Canton and Champion entered the age of environmentalism Mayor Hazel Ramsey's three terms have seen sisnificant growtb for Canton and receipt of a coveted community excellence award. together when, in 1965, the com­pany began treating effluent from the municipal sewage plant in the mill 's wastewater treatment facilities-saving the citizens mil­lions of dollars in sewage costs over the years. In the meantime, the historic mill at Canton-the first in the world to produce fine white paper from Southern pine-has kept pace with the nation 's stringent environmen­tal requirements, spending or com­mitting more than $50 million in recent years to upgrade its pollu­tion abatement equipment and to remain in compliance with all applicable regulatory standards. Today, mill production averages more than 1600 tons per day, .. -:-:NU:-:M: ::-:B"'E""""R= - 9 ----------------1( l11e Champion Magazine )r----------------::P::-:AG;:-;E:-:1-3;- Canton and Waynesville products meet a multitude of today's paper needs; the mill payroll

    First person - Tim Petzold

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    First Person is a series of interviews with the first authors of a selection of papers published in Biology Open, helping researchers promote themselves alongside their papers. Tim Petzold is first author on ‘ Connexin 41.8 governs timely haematopoietic stem and progenitor cell specification’, published in BiO. Tim conducted the research described in this article while a PhD student in Julien Bertrand's lab at the Department of Pathology and Immunology, Faculty of Medicine, University of Geneva, Switzerland. He is now a postdoc in the lab of Holger Gerhardt at the Max Delbrück Center for Molecular Medicine in the Helmholtz Association, Berlin, Germany, investigating developmental biology – previously his focus was on how blood stem cells develop and now it has shifted to how the vascular system develops

    Tim Seibles, 40th Annual ODU Literary Festival

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    Tim Seibles is the author of several poetry collections including Hurdy-Gurdy, Hammerlock, Buffalo Head Solos, and Fast Animal, which was a finalist for the 2012 National Book Award. In 2013 he received both the Pen Oakland Josephine Miles Award for poetry and an honorary Doctorate of Humane Letters from Misericordia University for his literary accomplishments. His latest collection, One Turn Around the Sun, has just been released. Tim is the current Poet Laureate of Virginia and is a Professor of English at Old Dominion University where he teaches literature as well as classes in the MFA in writing program

    Tim Seibles, 39th Annual ODU Literary Festival

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    Tim Seibles is the author of several poetry collections including Hurdy-Gurdy, Hammerlock, Buffalo Head Solos, and Fast Animal, which was a finalist for the 2012 National Book Award. In 2013 he received both the Pen Oakland Josephine Miles Award for poetry and an honorary Doctorate of Humane Letters from Misericordia University for his literary accomplishments. His latest collection, One Turn Around the Sun, has just been released. Tim is the current Poet Laureate of Virginia and is a Professor of English at Old Dominion University where he teaches literature as well as classes in the MFA in writing program

    Global Media Ideas - Infinite Pathways to Creative Succes - Tim Chang - Part One.mp4

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    During the X Media Lab: Global Media Ideas summit in June 2011 media and technology writer Brad Howarth conducted interviews with industry experts for Creativeinnovation. This video is part one of Brad Howarth's interview with Tim Chang about his role as Partner at Norwest Venture Partners (Palo Alto). Tim focuses on investments in mobile, gaming, digital media, and also leads Norwest Venture Partners's investment practice in China and Asia-Pacific. Tim shares tips on how to get an introduction to a Venture Capital; the elements of a good pitch and follow-up. And what he looks at when considering a deal - The 3Ts: Team, Traction, Tier 1 co-investors
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