Ever since Adam Smith, those trying to prove that contemporary forms of competitive market exchange are rooted in human nature have pointed to the existence of what they call ‘primitive trade.’ Already tens of thousands of years ago, one can find evidence of objects — very often precious stones, shells or other items of adornment — being moved around over enormous distances. Often these were just the sort of objects that anthropologists would later find being used as ‘primitive currencies’ all over the world. Surely this must prove capitalism in some form or another has always existed?
The logic is perfectly circular. If precious objects were moving long distances, this is evidence of ‘trade’ and, if trade occurred, it must have taken some sort of commercial form; therefore, the fact that, say, 3,000 years ago Baltic amber found its way to the Mediterranean, or shells from Mexico were transported to Ohio, is proof that we are in the presence of some embryonic form of market economy. Markets are universal. Therefore, there must have been a market. Therefore, markets are universal. And so on.
All such authors are really saying is that they themselves cannot personally imagine any other way that precious objects might move about. But lack of imagination is not itself an argument. It’s almost as if these writers are afraid to suggest anything that seems original, or, if they do, feel obliged to use vaguely scientific-sounding language ( ‘trans-regional interaction spheres’, ‘multi-scalar networks of exchange’) to avoid having to speculate about what precisely those things might be. In fact, anthropology provides endless illustrations of how valuable objects might travel long distances in the absence of anything that remotely resembles a market economy.
The founding text of twentieth-century ethnography, Bronislaw Malinowski’s 1922 Argonauts of the Western Pacific, describes how in the ‘kula chain’ of the Massim Island off Papua New Guinea, men would undertake daring expeditions across dangerous seas in outrigger canoes, just in order to exchange precious heirloom arm-shells and necklaces for each other (each of the most important ones has its own name, and history of former owners) — only to hold it briefly, then pass it on again to a different expedition from another island. Heirloom treasures circle the island chain eternally, crossing hundreds of miles of ocean, arm-shells and necklaces in opposite directions. To an outsider it seems senseless. To the men of the Massim it was the ultimate adventure, and nothing could be more important than to spread one’s name, in this fashion, to places one had never seen.
Is this ‘trade’? Perhaps, but it would bend to breaking point our ordinary understanding of what that word means. There is, in fact, a substantial ethnographic literature on how such long-distance exchange operates in societies without markets. Barter does occur: different groups may take on specialties — one is famous for its feather-work, another provides salt, in a third all women are potters — to acquire things they cannot produce themselves; sometimes one group will specialize in the very business of moving people and things around. But we often find such regional networks developing largely for the sake of creating friendly mutual relations, or having an excuse to visit one another from time to time; and there are plenty of other possibilities that in no way resemble ‘trade.’
Let’s list just a few, all drawn from North American material, to give the reader a taste of what might really be going on when people speak of ‘long-distance interaction spheres’ in the human past:
Dreams or vision quests: among Iroquoian-speaking peoples in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries it was considered extremely important literally to realize one’s dreams. Many European observers marveled at how Indians would be willing to travel for days to bring back some object, trophy, crystal or even an animal like a dog they had dreamed of acquiring. Anyone who dreamed about a neighbor or relative’s possession (a kettle, ornament, mask and so on) could normally demand it; as a result, such objects would often gradually travel some way from town to town. On the Great Plains, decisions to travel long distances in search of rare or exotic items could form part of vision quests.
Traveling healers and entertainers: in 1528, when a shipwrecked Spaniard named Alvar Nuriez Cabeza de Vaca made his way from Florida across what is now Texas to Mexico, he found he could pass easily between villages (even villages at war with one another) by offering his services as a magician and curer. Curers in much of North America were also entertainers, and would often develop significant entourages; those who felt their lives had been saved by the performance would, typically, offer up all their material processions to be divided among the troupe. By such means, precious objects could easily travel long distances.
Women’s gambling: women in many indigenous North American societies were inveterate gamblers; the women of adjacent villages would often meet to play dice or a game played with a bowl and plum stone, and would typically bet their shells beads or other objects of personal adornment as the stakes. One archeologist versed in the ethnographic literature, Warren DeBoer, estimates that many of the shells and other exotic discovered in sites halfway across the continent had got there by being endlessly wagered, and lost, in inter-village games of this sort, over very long periods of time.
We could multiply examples, but assume that by now the reader gets the broader point we are making. When we simply guess as to what humans in other times and places might be up to, we almost invariably make guesses that are far less interesting, far less quirky — in a word, far less human than what was likely going on.
Notice what’s missing from most of these: A profit motive.
There are, technically, “markets” in every human culture we can identify. There are exchanges of goods & services, even in the most socialistic of societies.
There is not always any attempt to get “profit,” to wind up with more value than you had before.
(Gambling may have a profit motive. Gambling may also have competitive motive: the goal can be winning, with the prize being wanted as a trophy more than for its technical value.)
The initial post here is taken from The Dawn of Everything, an anthropological/historical survey written by David Wengrow and the recently and lamentably passed scholar, David Graeber.
I worked a cash register in a crappy grocery store on Friday the 13th, the day the schools got word that they were going remote because of the virus.
There were horrible people. I don’t need to go into details because we’ve all heard them or read about them or experienced them firsthand.
But most people were just scared and anxious and trying to take care of their families in spite of bad local and state and national leadership and terrible messaging and limited personal resources. They were intense, but understandably so.
My bosses weren’t great, not on any level, from CEO to shift managers, but that’s not news, most of us have been exploited and abused in our jobs before and during Covid.
We weren’t allowed to wear masks because the store thought it would freak out the customers. Some people quit on the spot, but precious few because it’s not the kind of job you work if you have a ton of options. A woman came through my line and she was wearing a cloth mask with a pretty botanical print. I complimented the design and we bonded over love of fabrics and crafts. She asked about the store mask situation, I explained store policy, she shook her head, left with her groceries, and I kept working the endless line. She was back four hours later with a mask for me. She’d gone home, put away her perishables, sat down at her sewing machine, made a mask for a stranger, and then gone back out into crazy traffic and crowds, just to find me and give it to me. She gave it to me in front of the floor manager, and explained to the manager that she was worried about the employees, and my boss had to let me wear it (out of a weird mental loophole of ‘customer is always right’ even though no other employees were allowed to wear one that day and for a few weeks afterward, which sounds insane, but it’s true).
Another woman had come through with a ton of cheese, really cool fancy stuff. I’m in the cheese fandom so we had a good time chatting. She left with her groceries and I kept working the line. About an hour later, she was back in my line again with more fancy cheeses. I rang her up, bagged her food, handed it to her, and she handed the bag to me and said “This is yours, I’m grateful for all the essential workers but I don’t know how to tell you guys or keep you safe, so I’m just doing this.” She’d put her groceries in her car, gone back into a madhouse, picked out cheese for an anonymous cashier, and WAITED IN LINE FOR AN HOUR so she could give it to me personally.
Toward the end of day, after credit card machines had gone down five times in as many hours (do you know what it’s like a for an entire grocery store to go cash-only for overlong periods of time on March 13 with a building full of scared customers? Do you know how funny or charming or lighthearted you have to be with that many intense people on the verge of freaking out? Sometimes being a cashier is like being a goddamm standup comedienne or therapist or surrogate mom I swear). Anyway, a guy came in toward the very end of my overtime and the card reader went down again and this customer didn’t freak out. He started SINGING. He stood there and sang to me until the computers came back online. I’ll never forget him or his sweet voice or that moment in time, ever.
I know things are bleak right now. I know they’re going to get worse. But I see acts of bravery and kindness all day, every day. Every. Day. People are channeling their despair into personal outreach that doesn’t get witnessed by many people because it’s usually one-on-one type stuff. I do a ton of climate & political stuff, as well as all my odd jobs, so I see a lot of different demographics in a lot of different situations, all of them stressful, and yes, there are sociopathic assholes in all of those settings, but there are ALWAYS always people being good and brave and looking for ways to connect or care for or support other people in a myriad of ways.
I don’t believe in very many things at this age but I will go to my grave defending the goodness of humanity. We may be isolated, we may be headfucked and heartbroken, but we are still fighting the good fight. That’s as real as all the bad stuff.
Examples of the Emetsound/“My friends 接招吧 (Come join us)” trend on douyin, which began with the Emetsound dance crew (first/last group seen in the compilation).
voiceover, quietly, in a New Zealand accent: When I was taking this little guy’s photos, I noticed that he was having difficulties getting into the poses and wasn’t feeling a hundred percent comfortable. So I scooped him up, un-swaddled him, and gave him a little back massage. Because I knew that he had had a little bit of a hard birth, little bit of a hard entry into the world, and quite often things like a C-section, forceps, or a tight birth canal can often result in a pulled muscle or a knot in their back, shoulders, or neck. And look at that, when I hit the spot, he lets me know, with [voice goes up an octave] a beautiful big SMI-YILE!!! Isn’t it gorgeous!! [normal voice] And he was totally comfortable after that.
cute couple things i’ve seen on campus this semester that make me want a stupid boyfriend
girl and guy were sitting on the same chair with the guy behind her only he was hugging her waist and fast asleep on her shoulder while she was working on her computer
saw this couple across the street from me waiting for the bus. the guy did the thing where he pretends to look for something in his bag and pulls out a finger heart instead
in the hallway i watched this girl run up to her bf and he gives her the biggest hug and goes “see told you you’d kill your presentation” then kisses her forehead
girl sitting next to me in the library has been grinding on an assignment all day (like i’d have been in the library from 10-3 with breaks in between for classes but she’d been sitting there the whole time) and her boyfriend would come in every few hours, put down food or coffee on her table, kiss the top of her head, and walk away without a word
in one of my smaller classes (probably around 30 people) this guy’s phone rang and he sprung up and left the class to answer it. usually profs don’t care if you leave class but this one is really small and he knows all of our names/faces, so when the guy comes back in the prof asks if everything was ok. he has the biggest grin on his face and says “yeah, sorry that was my girlfriend. her flight took off right before it started snowing so i was worried. she’s okay tho.”
was sitting outside and reading when it was warmer and i could see this couple sitting under a tree a little ways away from me. the girl was laying in his lap while he was on his phone. suddenly i heard an alarm go off so i look up and they start switching places so now he’s laying his head on her lap and she’s reading sitting up. it happened twice more after that
So peaceful Souvenir. A brother singing ancient Andalusian song in Al-hambra palace.
Unmute
The right amount of melancholy
This is one of my most favorite Andalusian muwashshahat (an Arabic poem that’s specifically written to be sung). It was written in the 3rd century by an Arab poet from Granada, so it’s not very far fetched that the song has been sung at some point in that very palace centuries ago.
These are the lyrics in Arabic and English, in case anyone’s interested.
When he appeared with a sway in his walk My darling infatuated me with his beauty Oh, my fate and my confusion Who will have mercy when I complain Of anguish in love Except for the holder of beauty?
لما بدا يتثنى حبي جماله فتننا وعدي و يا حيرتي من لي رحيم شكوتي فى الحب من لوعتي إلا مليك الجمال
This man taught himself how to ad lib piano music and called it fake. I will not be swallowing a fork, that is more complicated and useful than actually learning how to sight read
>walking home from a party late one evening >several guys were following me, as my drunk ass managed to piss them off by existing >try to walk faster, to no avail, as I’m drunk as shit >catch me in some random student neighbourhood >oh shit, my ass is about to be beaten >still in talking phase >lights flick on in a house >three guys in full musketeer garb walk out >leader is some blond guy with a beard, eyepatch, and some weird-ass accent >“What sort of ruffians would be accosting someone outside our residence? Stand and deliver!” >guys start yelling at them to fuck off, that I deserved to get my ass beaten >“Very well, then. Draw steel, you blackguard!” >all three of them draw rapiers on their belts >guys run >“I know not why those foul men sought your harm, but come and tell us the tale, stranger!” >spend remainder of evening drinking mulled wine with lunatics >bunch of Swedish re-enactors live there >blond guy is actually missing an eye; lost it in an machine shop accident >stagger home completely drunk with a hat
I had no idea people like that existed. Or had the money to rent a house.
in addition to two comments reading “FUCKING EPIC” and “THIS A THOUSAND TIMES THIS” op elaborated further in another post:
Holy shit, is this still being posted?
I figure I owe /tg/ a bit of an update on these guys.
Their leader, O he of one eye and little common sense, nearly had his visa revoked for these kinds of shenanigans. One too many arrests meant that his right to stay in the country was contested, and he had to go to court to defend himself and prevent his visa from being revoked.
I was his ride to court, and had to testify to the board that he shouldn’t be deported for lack of common sense or social normality.
His defense? A written speech, about three pages long, about the rights of man, the education he has received here, and the opportunities for a one-eyed machinist. The spirit of his crimes were all in defense of people who would otherwise suffer. For other witnesses, he had some of the random people he’d helped out, including one memorable point where a woman, nearly on the verge of tears, pointed out how he’d taken on a guy threatening to rape her and carrying a knife by whipping out a fencing saber, disarming him, and mocking him in his thick Swedish accent so that the girl could call the cops. Something like a dozen people all showed up, explaining how this dude, despite his eccentricities, made the country better.
He was not deported, and lives here to this very day, stalking the streets in musketeer garb, rescuing drunks, and dispensing his own brand of justice.
he just…. crammed from textbooks to learn how to do the things he was supposed to know
During Demara’s impersonation as Brother John Payne of the Christian Brothers of Instruction (also known as Brothers of Christian Instruction), Demara decided to make the religious teaching order more prominent by founding a college in Alfred, Maine. Demara proceeded on his own, and actually got the college chartered by the state. He then promptly left the religious order in 1951, when the Christian Brothers of Instruction offended him by not naming him as rector or chancellor of the new college and chose what Demara considered to be a terrible name for the college.[5]:115–119 The college Demara founded, LaMennais College in Alfred, Maine, began in 1951 (when Demara left); in 1959 it moved to Canton,Ohio, and in 1960, became Walsh College (now Walsh University).
whfsdf
do students at that university, like, know? they must, right?
He described his own motivation as “Rascality, pure rascality”.
