The Red Stairway, 1944, Ben Shahn
St. Louis Art Museum
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The Red Stairway, 1944, Ben Shahn
St. Louis Art Museum
Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than 30 cities. It is two electric power plants, each serving a town of 60,000 population. It is two fine, fully equipped hospitals. It is some fifty miles of concrete pavement. We pay for a single fighter with a half-million bushels of wheat. We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than 8,000 people. . . . This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron.
Dwight D. Eisenhower, April 16, 1953, Washington D.C.
Despite his best efforts, egregious military spending has continued for the 65 years following this speech.
A Cry For the Past: Remembering the Fallen
In the dimly lit living room of our home, I watched my adult son experience the brutal reality of war through Edward Berger’s adaptation of “All Quiet on the Western Front.” As tears streamed down his face, I realised that nearly a century after Erich Maria Remarque penned his haunting novel, its message still pierces young hearts with devastating clarity. The film, released in 2022, doesn’t…
‘Great Hunger’ by Kathy Kelly I find myself repulsed by assertions voicing U.S. exceptionalism, yet my own study and focus often omits histories and present realities which simply must be understood if we are to recognize the traumas our world faces.
LONDON — Artillery booms. A trench comes into view. Soldiers huddle into their overcoats for warmth. The scene is the unlikely backdrop for a holiday commercial that has many Britons reaching for hankies — and others demanding it be pulled from the air. The 3-minute, 40-second mini-movie from the Sainsbury’s grocery chain depicts the 1914 Christmas Truce, when soldiers stopped killing each other for a few hours to celebrate the holiday together in no man’s land. The commercial has sparked debate on whether it is appropriate for corporations to use sensitive national history for commercial use. The issue is all the more delicate as the country marks 100 years since World War I began — a months-long national moment of soul searching highlighted by sombre ceremonies, intense media coverage and crowded exhibitions. “It is a somewhat brave decision on the part of Sainsbury’s,” said Leslie Hallam, the course director of the psychology of advertising program at Lancaster University Management School. Brave, that is, in the sense of it being risky. LONDON — Artillery booms. A trench comes into view. Soldiers huddle into their overcoats for warmth. The scene is the unlikely backdrop for a holiday commercial that has many Britons reaching for hankies — and others demanding it be pulled from the air. The 3-minute, 40-second mini-movie from the Sainsbury’s grocery chain depicts the 1914 Christmas Truce, when soldiers stopped killing each other for a few hours to celebrate the holiday together in no man’s land. The commercial has sparked debate on whether it is appropriate for corporations to use sensitive national history for commercial use. The issue is all the more delicate as the country marks 100 years since World War I began — a months-long national moment of soul searching highlighted by sombre ceremonies, intense media coverage and crowded exhibitions. “It is a somewhat brave decision on the part of Sainsbury’s,” said Leslie Hallam, the course director of the psychology of advertising program at Lancaster University Management School. Brave, that is, in the sense of it being risky. LONDON — Artillery booms. A trench comes into view. Soldiers huddle into their overcoats for warmth. The scene is the unlikely backdrop for a holiday commercial that has many Britons reaching for hankies — and others demanding it be pulled from the air. The 3-minute, 40-second mini-movie from the Sainsbury’s grocery chain depicts the 1914 Christmas Truce, when soldiers stopped killing each other for a few hours to celebrate the holiday together in no man’s land. The commercial has sparked debate on whether it is appropriate for corporations to use sensitive national history for commercial use. The issue is all the more delicate as the country marks 100 years since World War I began — a months-long national moment of soul searching highlighted by sombre ceremonies, intense media coverage and crowded exhibitions. “It is a somewhat brave decision on the part of Sainsbury’s,” said Leslie Hallam, the course director of the psychology of advertising program at Lancaster University Management School. Brave, that is, in the sense of it being risky. Big Christmas ads have become a tradition in Britain — an opportunity for companies to pull out all the stops to woo holiday shoppers and stamp their brands firmly on the consumer brain. These mini-blockbusters, similar to Super Bowl showstoppers in the United States, usually feature warm and fuzzy characters like lovestruck penguins and adorable children who reveal the true meaning of Christmas. They do not, in other words, normally take place in trenches. The commercial has sparked at least 240 complaints to the Advertising Standards Authority, which is considering an investigation after viewers objected to using the war to promote a company. While it’s not the first time war has formed the backdrop for an ad, previous efforts tended to be light-hearted. Hallam finds the ad is inappropriate, like putting a brand name on a re-enactment of Princess Diana’s funeral. But its sheer beauty is what has its critics displeased. With the gore and rats of trench warfare from 1914-1918 firmly in mind, Manchester-based writer Ally Fogg wrote in a Guardian newspaper column that the ad was disrespectful as it offers a sanitized version of World War I. “Would we welcome an advert next Christmas showing a touching little scene between a Jewish child and a disabled child in Auschwitz, swapping gifts for Christmas and Hanukah on their way to the gas chambers?” he wrote. “I would hope not, yet I fail to see any great moral difference.” Whatever its intention, Sainsbury’s is tapping into the national mood. Interest in the war was evident this month when estimated 5 million people visited an exhibition of 888,246 ceramic poppies — one for each British and Commonwealth soldier killed — planted in the Tower of London’s moat, creating a blood red tribute to the dead. Sainsbury’s worked closely with The Royal British Legion, a veterans’ organization, and historians to ensure details were authentic. But this is a bloodless moment. The commercial features a dusting of snow and choruses of “Silent Night” in English and German. The landscape of war is transformed into an oasis of calm. The hero prop is a chocolate bar in bright blue wrapping — a replica of which is being sold to benefit the legion. It depicts a young British soldier named Jim, who ventures out of his trench and steps into no-man’s land to shake hands with Otto, a German soldier of similar age. Their comrades follow, exchanging gifts, snapping pictures and playing an impromptu game of soccer. Historians have disputed some of the specifics of the events of the real life Christmas Truce. Recent scholarship suggests that rather than one event, there were a series of unofficial truces along the Western Front. Whatever the specifics, the idea of this heartwarming moment in the midst of absurdity is seared in the public mind. Sainsbury’s is unapologetic in the face of criticism. “This year, we wanted to tell this story of sharing,” the company said in a statement. “Working with The Royal British Legion, we have chosen to do this through the lens of one of the most extraordinary moments of sharing in modern history, when on Christmas Day 1914, British and German soldiers laid down their arms and came together to share a game of football.” But it remains to be seen whether a connection has been made with shoppers — whether they will buy their chocolate at their neighbourhood Sainsbury’s. Sarah Wood, the co-founder of Unruly, a marketing technology company, said her firm is tracking the number of times the Christmas advertisements have been shared on social media. So far, the more traditional commercial backdrop is beating World War I. The Sainsbury’s advertisement has been shared nearly 384,000 times, but the John Lewis department store ad, which began five days before and features Monty the Penguin, has been shared some 776,000 times. Whether it proves a commercial success or not, the Sainsbury’s strategy is getting attention. Robert Foley, a historian at King’s College London, says that is because World War I was a formative experience for Britain. It marked the first mass mobilization of civilians. With concerns about the futility of war and needless sacrifice being revisited, the Great War has been linked to contemporary conflicts, such as the war in Afghanistan, Foley said. People are remembering that these people died for a reason — that each poppy in the moat represented a person. It’s on everyone’s mind. And now it’s in a commercial. “This is all anybody’s been talking about,” Foley said. “They have really touched a nerve in the British population.”
So I watched "The Sky Crawlers" today
It's very... apathetic. Even when the protagonist decides to do what he "has to do" (quote: "This... is MY game."), it's kind of just shown with ambivalence. There's a bit of sci-fi to the story, but they don't really go into what exactly it is until the last third of the movie. The main character and his fellow pilots are what are known as "Kildren", children who are genetically enhanced to never age past their teens, and these kildren are the new armies of the world, with their functional immortality making them basically the perfect death fodder.
This is not a traditional movie by any means. It's doesn't follow any typical "act I, act II, climax, rest of act II, act III, finale" pacing. In fact, in kind of a fitting way this movie felt more like a monologue delivered by an officer at the end of an episode of a crime drama; they state what happened, wax philosophical about why it went down that way, and then a personal summary about how it effected them. At least that's how I experienced it.
I think it says something about the overall numbness and melancholy I felt from this movie when the only character I felt attached to was a dog, and kept dreading the moment where I assumed they'd find him bleeding out from a stray bullet or something. (Spoilers: Dog lives.) There may have been more attachment to someone like Fuko or Midori but they weren't given enough screen time.
In the end this movie is about whether war is a necessity or an addiction. Each time Kannami visits the diner there is a sad looking old man sitting on the stairs, and by the end of the movie (after a particularly high-cost battle) the owner of the diner joins him, despite how busy the diner is. This is done to symbolize the toll that the wars still take on the hearts of men, even in an age where the soldiers are eternally young and can only die unnaturally, but rather than do anything to stop it, they just turn a blind eye or don't speak out.
It's kind of hard to say how I would rank this movie, it feels like one I'll have to think over for a while and then watch again. I certainly recommend it if you like "futility of war" type stuff, or if you're in to hopeless romance. Or if you like animated basset hounds.
Listen up—there’s no war that will end all wars.
Haruki Murakami