• Race and America: why data matters | Financial Times

    https://www.ft.com/content/156f770a-1d77-4f6b-8616-192fb58e3735

    When Yeshimabeit Milner was in sixth grade in Miami, Florida she was suspended for three days after talking back to the teacher in a technology class. Milner was devastated — but the episode also led to an epiphany. A few years later, she began to collect data on suspensions in a neighbouring school and found that black children like her were four times more likely to be suspended than white children. This was the beginning of her life as a data activist.

    –—

    Black students in US nearly four times as likely to be suspended as white students | US education | The Guardian

    http://www.theguardian.com/education/2016/jun/08/us-education-survey-race-student-suspensions-absenteeism

    lack students are nearly four times as likely to be suspended as white students, according to new federal data.The sweeping bi-annual survey of more than 50 million students by the US Department of Education found that suspensions overall have dramatically decreased by nearly 20% between the 2011-12 and 2013-14 school years.

    –---

    W.E.B. Du Bois’ Visionary Infographics Come Together for the First Time in Full Color | History | Smithsonian Magazine
    https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/first-time-together-and-color-book-displays-web-du-bois-visionary-in

    fter three decades of emancipation, the gains made by African-Americans, those that existed at all, presented a decidedly mixed picture about the state of racial progress in the country. The political obstacles were voluminous, with the failure of Reconstruction still lingering, and Jim Crow institutional racism ascendant. In 1897, the United States Supreme Court would rule in Plessy v. Ferguson that separate was indeed equal. All the while, new generations of African-Americans found ways to uplift themselves, despite discrimination, through grassroots efforts in education, work and community building.

    #WEB_du_Bois #cartoexperiment #précurseurs

  • The Pioneering Maps of #Alexander_von_Humboldt | History | Smithsonian

    https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/pioneering-maps-alexander-von-humboldt-180973342

    The German naturalist and explorer Alexander von Humboldt was one of the most celebrated scientists of the 19th century. In 1869, on the 100th anniversary of his birth, 25,000 people gathered in New York’s Central Park to listen to speeches extolling his accomplishments and witness the unveiling of a large bronze bust of Humboldt, who had died ten years earlier. Flags and enormous posters showing Humboldt’s face lined the streets of Manhattan. Similar celebrations took place around the world—in Berlin, Humboldt’s birthplace, 80,000 admirers gathered in the chilly rain to listen to eulogies and songs sung in his honor.

    It’s hard to imagine any modern scientist achieving such celebrity, and now, 250 years after his birth, Humboldt himself has largely been forgotten by the general public. But as historian Andrea Wulf wrote in her 2015 biography of Humboldt, The Invention of Nature, his scientific legacy lives on in scores of geographic features and place names, from a glacier in Greenland to a mountain range in Antarctica. (The state of Nevada was almost named Humboldt, Wulf writes.) The Latin names of nearly 300 plants and more than 100 animals pay homage to him, including the aggressive, predatory Humboldt squid, which can grow up to eight feet long and weigh 100 pounds.

    #cartoexperiment #cartographie #précurseurs

  • The Thibodaux Massacre Left 60 African-Americans Dead and Spelled the End of Unionized Farm Labor in the South for Decades | History | Smithsonian

    https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/thibodaux-massacre-left-60-african-americans-dead-and-spelled-end-un

    On November 23, 1887, a mass shooting of African-American farm workers in Louisiana left some 60 dead. Bodies were dumped in unmarked graves while the white press cheered a victory against a fledgling black union. It was one of the bloodiest days in United States labor history, and while statues went up and public places were named for some of those involved, there is no marker of the Thibodaux Massacre.

    #états-unis #racisme #massacre #violences

  • Des plébéiens aux « gilets jaunes »
    https://www.lemonde.fr/idees/article/2019/01/18/des-plebeiens-aux-gilets-jaunes_5410980_3232.html

    Dans sa tribune au « Monde », Claudia Moatti, professeure d’histoire antique, compare le comportement des sénateurs ­romains du dernier siècle de la République avec les politiciens d’aujourd’hui, qui, tout en reconnaissant l’utilité des révoltes passées, condamnent celles de leur époque.

    Tribune. Le paradoxe est éclatant : nous transformons en patrimoine la Révolution française mais nous tremblons devant les rébellions actuelles. Nous nous comportons ainsi comme les sénateurs ­romains du dernier siècle de la République, qui, tout en reconnaissant l’utilité des révoltes passées (les ­fameuses sécessions de la plèbe du Ve siècle avant notre ère), condamnaient celles de leur époque. Les historiens qui écrivirent sous l’Empire voyaient pourtant plus qu’une analogie entre les deux. Au moment où la situation politique nous met en demeure, à notre tour, de réfléchir et de comprendre l’état de notre société, leur récit a quelque chose à nous apprendre.

    Nous sommes en 494 avant notre ère, au début de ce que nous appelons la République romaine, quelques années après l’expulsion du dernier roi de Rome, Tarquin le Superbe ; les plébéiens, cette part de la population romaine qui n’avait aucun accès aux charges politiques et religieuses de la cité mais qui n’en était pas moins constamment appelée à défendre la patrie par les armes, réclama l’abolition des dettes. Ce que saisissaient les historiens, c’était à la fois l’état de pauvreté et de nécessité où la plèbe se trouvait, la cruauté des créanciers, et la surdité des sénateurs : une surdité de gens arrogants, hautains, et sans pitié.

    Ce qu’ils tâchaient de faire entendre aussi, c’est qu’un problème qui n’est pas résolu immédiatement est destiné à empirer ; et de fait les plébéiens, excédés, finirent par réclamer non seulement l’abolition des dettes mais aussi des droits politiques, par exemple la création de magistrats pour les défendre. Voici donc que de sociale la requête se fit politique.

    #paywall

    • Ça devient de plus en plus difficile de créditer les images : celles-ci ne figurant pas sur la page web… mais apparait dans l’extrait pris par le bookmarklet ST

      Et donc, ici


      Gaius Gracchus attempted to enact social reform in Ancient Rome but died at the hands of the Roman Senate in 121 B.C.
      sur le site du Smithsonian Institute, dans un article de novembre 2017 au contenu très proche de l’article ci-dessus (même s’il s’agit des Gracques et non de l’apologue des membres et de l’estomac de Ménénius Agrippa à l’époque des Sécessions de la plèbe (494 avant notre ère) où celle-ci décida de se retirer sur les ronds-points euh, non ! sur l’Aventin (je confonds toujours…)

      et donc, peut-être ! :
      Paul Fearn/Alamy

      et l’article illustré par C. Gracchus

      Before the Fall of the Roman Republic, Income Inequality and Xenophobia Threatened Its Foundations | History | Smithsonian
      https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/fall-roman-republic-income-inequality-and-xenophobia-threatened-its-

      What inspired you to look into this story?
      When I was doing the History of Rome [podcast], so many people asked me, ‘Is the United States Rome? Are we following a similar trajectory?’ If you start to do some comparisons between the rise and development of the U.S. and rise and development of Rome, you do wind up in this same place. The United States emerging from the Cold War has some analogous parts to where Rome was after they defeated Carthage [in 146 B.C.]. This period was a wide-open field to fill a gap in our knowledge.

      One topic you describe at length is economic inequality between citizens of Rome. How did that come about?
      After Rome conquers Carthage, and after they decide to annex Greece, and after they conquer Spain and acquire all the silver mines, you have wealth on an unprecedented scale coming into Rome. The flood of wealth was making the richest of the rich Romans wealthier than would’ve been imaginable even a couple generations earlier. You’re talking literally 300,000 gold pieces coming back with the Legions. All of this is being concentrated in the hands of the senatorial elite, they’re the consuls and the generals, so they think it’s natural that it all accumulates in their hands.

      At the same time, these wars of conquest were making the poor quite a bit poorer. Roman citizens were being hauled off to Spain or Greece, leaving for tours that would go on for three to five years a stretch. While they were gone, their farms in Italy would fall into disrepair. The rich started buying up big plots of land. In the 130s and 140s you have this process of dispossession, where the poorer Romans are being bought out and are no longer small citizen owners. They’re going to be tenant owners or sharecroppers and it has a really corrosive effect on the traditional ways of economic life and political life. As a result, you see this skyrocketing economic inequality.

      par Mike Duncan, à propos de son livre
      The Storm before the Storm, The Beginning of the End of the Roman Republic, New York Times Bestseller, octobre 2017

      http://thestormbeforethestorm.com

  • “The Hatpin Peril” Terrorized Men Who Couldn’t Handle the 20th-Century Woman | History | Smithsonian
    https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/hatpin-peril-terrorized-men-who-couldnt-handle-20th-century-woman-18

    “The Hatpin Peril” Terrorized Men Who Couldn’t Handle the 20th-Century Woman
    To protect themselves from unwanted advances, city women protected themselves with some sharp accessories

    On the afternoon of May 28, 1903, Leoti Blaker, a young Kansan touring New York City, boarded a Fifth Avenue stagecoach at 23rd Street and settled in for the ride. The coach was crowded, and when it jostled she noticed that the man next to her settled himself an inch closer to her. She made a silent assessment: elderly, elegantly dressed, “benevolent-looking.” The horse picked up speed and the stage jumped, tossing the passengers at one another again, and now the man was touching her, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. When he lifted his arm and draped it low across her back, Leoti had enough. In a move that would thrill victim of modern-day subway harassment, she reached for her hatpin—nearly a foot long—and plunged it into the meat of the man’s arm. He let out a terrible scream and left the coach at the next stop.

    “He was such a nice-looking old gentleman I was sorry to hurt him,” she told the New York World. “I’ve heard about Broadway mashers and ‘L’ mashers, but I didn’t know Fifth Avenue had a particular brand of its own…. If New York women will tolerate mashing, Kansas girls will not.”

    Newspapers across the country began reporting similar encounters with “mashers,” period slang for lecherous or predatory men (defined more delicately in Theodore Dreiser’s Sister Carrie as “one whose dress or manners are calculated to elicit the admiration of susceptible young women”). A New York City housewife fended off a man who brushed up against her on a crowded Columbus Avenue streetcar and asked if he might “see her home.” A Chicago showgirl, bothered by a masher’s “insulting questions,” beat him in the face with her umbrella until he staggered away. A St. Louis schoolteacher drove her would-be attacker away by slashing his face with her hatpin. Such stories were notable not only for their frequency but also for their laudatory tone; for the first time, women who fought back against harassers were regarded as heroes rather than comic characters, as subjects rather than objects. Society was transitioning, slowly but surely, from expecting and advocating female dependence on men to recognizing their desire and ability to defend themselves.
    Hatpin-defence.jpeg
    (San Francisco Sunday Call, 1904)

    Working women and suffragists seized control of the conversation, speaking out against mashers and extolling women’s right to move freely—and alone—in public. It was true, as social worker Jane Addams lamented, that “never before in civilization have such numbers of young girls been suddenly released from the protection of the home and permitted to walk unattended upon city streets and to work under alien roofs.” Dating rituals and sexual mores were shifting. A man no longer called at a woman’s parlor and courted her under the close eye of her parents, but took her to a show or a dance hall, where all manner of evil lurked. The suffragists rejected the notion, advanced by the Chicago Vice Commission, that unchaperoned women should dress as modestly as possible—no painted cheeks or glimpse of ankle—in order to avoid unwanted attention. The issue lay not with women’s fashion or increasing freedoms, one suffragist countered, but with “the vileness of the ‘masher’ mind.”

    Instead of arguing with the suffragists, some detractors took a more subtle approach, objecting not to women’s changing roles but to their preferred mode of self-defense: the hatpin. Tales abounded of innocent men—no mashers, they—who fell victim to the “hatpin peril.” A 19-year-old girl in Scranton playfully thrust her hatpin at her boyfriend and fatally pierced his heart. A young New York streetcar passenger felt a sharp pain behind his ear—an accidental prick from a stranger’s hatpin—and within a week fell into a coma and died. Also in New York, a hundred female factory workers, all wielding hatpins, attacked police officers who arrested two of their comrades for making allegedly anarchistic speeches. Even other women weren’t safe. In a suburb of Chicago, a woman and her husband’s mistress drew hatpins and circled each other, duel-style, until policemen broke it up. “We look for the new and imported Colt’s hatpin,” one newspaper sarcastically opined, “or the Smith and Wesson Quick-action Pin.” By 1909, the hatpin was considered an international threat, with the police chiefs in Hamburg and Paris considering measures to regulate their length.

    In March 1910, Chicago’s city council ran with that idea, debating an ordinance that would ban hatpins longer than nine inches; any woman caught in violation would be arrested and fined $50. The proceedings were packed with curious spectators, men and women, and acrimonious from the start. “If women care to wear carrots and roosters on their heads, that is a matter for their own concern, but when it comes to wearing swords they must be stopped,” a supporter said. Cries of “Bravo!” from the men; hisses from the women. Nan Davis, there to represent several women’s clubs, asked for permission to address the committee. “If the men of Chicago want to take the hatpins away from us, let them make the streets safe,” she said. “No man has a right to tell me how I shall dress and what I shall wear.”

    Despite Davis’ impassioned speech, the ordinance passed by a vote of 68 to 2. Similar laws subsequently passed in several other cities, including Milwaukee, Pittsburgh, Baltimore and New Orleans. Ten thousand miles away, in Sydney, Australia, sixty women went to jail rather than pay fines for wearing “murderous weapons” in their hats. Even conservative London ladies steadfastly refused to buy hatpin point protectors.

    “This is but another argument for votes for women and another painful illustration of the fact that men cannot discipline women,” argued the suffragist Harriot Stanton Blatch, a daughter of Elizabeth Cady Stanton. “Women need discipline; they need to be forced, if not led, out of their barbarisms, but women never have and never will submit to the discipline of men. Give women political power and the best among them will gradually train the uncivilized, just as the best among men have trained their sex.”

    The furor over hatpins subsided at the onset of World War I, and died entirely when bobbed hair and cloche hats came into fashion—at which point emerged a new “social menace”: the flapper. It wouldn’t be long, of course, before politicians grew less concerned with what women wore than with how to win their votes.

    pas encor lu

  • How the “Heart Balm Racket” Convinced America That Women Were Up to No Good | History | Smithsonian
    https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/how-heart-balm-racket-convinced-america-women-were-no-good-180968144

    By Tori Telfer
    smithsonian.com
    February 13, 2018

    She was 27, with a “winning smile” and a penchant for hanging around ocean liners. He was 45, a widower with an 18-year-old daughter, and they were sailing to Europe for the summer. The two girls became fast friends and spent a delightful trip together, innocent as could be.

    But all along, this “Siren on Ocean Liner”—as the Washington Post called her—was plotting. After traveling through Europe with the family, the woman, also referred to as Myrtle MaGee by the papers, visited them back in the States (where she secretly destroyed all the letters she’d written to the widower’s daughter, effectively erasing the platonic nature of her relationship to the family). She then blithely launched a lawsuit against the widower, claiming that he had promised to marry her and was now trying to back out of it.

    This case, reported breathlessly by the Washington Post in 1915, was not an isolated incident. In fact, it was only one in a long line of scandalous, seedy, and over-reported cases in which unscrupulous women tried to blackmail wealthy men out of large sums of money, helped along by a weird little piece of legislation that allowed people to sue their exes after a broken engagement. These ladies were “gold-diggers,” “schemers” and “adventuresses,” and what they were doing, the papers crowed, was nothing short of a racket.

    The legislation in question was something called the “breach of promise” or “heart balm” suit, and it was based on the premise that an engagement was a binding contract between two people. If one person were to break off the contract without consulting the other, the law could step in and award damages to the brokenhearted party.

    Granted, no one was terribly happy about these laws in the first place—feminists thought they made women look dependent, while misogynists thought they allowed women to tap into their naturally devious natures—but as controversial, high-profile breach of promise suits kept making the papers, the public grew increasingly paranoid about the implications of such legislation. By 1935, the paranoia had grown so extreme that lawmakers were calling for a wholesale elimination of heart balm laws, and soon enough states were abolishing them right and left—abolishing them so quickly, in fact, that the constitutionality of some of the reform statues was later called into question. Still, the message had been made clear: it was no longer possible to sue over a shattered heart, real or false.

    The idea that people should be punished for trying to back out of an engagement was nothing new in 1935. For centuries, it was possible to take action—first through the church, and then in the courtroom—against the one who loved and left you. (The earliest successful breach of promise suit took place in 1638; men could—and occasionally did—sue their ex-fiancées, but the legislation was mostly used by women.) Opponents of these suits mocked them as either “blackmail or vulgarity unspeakable,” but there was nothing silly or saccharine about the underlying premise, at least not at first. For most of human history, marriage was an extraordinarily practical arrangement, one with significant financial and social benefits, especially for women. Getting engaged meant you could start anticipating those benefits—and you might change your actions accordingly. You might, for example, begin spending money on an expensive trousseau. You might enjoy a change in social status. You would almost certainly break it off with all other marriage prospects. And you might finally decide to sleep with your fiancéé.

    A bride’s virginity was still a pretty big deal in the 1920s and 1930s (and remained that way until at least the 1950s), but engagement provided something of a loophole. Women who were intent on remaining virgins until marriage might consider engagement close enough—and so, if their fiancé suddenly broke things off, they found themselves dealing with a literal drop in value. A broken engagement didn’t just mean a loss of future income, but it could damage a woman’s reputation and make it harder for her to get engaged again. Even if she’d never actually had sex, there was a chance she’d be tainted by association.

    Into this land of hearts and hymens, the law strode bravely. These heart balm laws were unusual, to say the least: no matter how many times you argued financial loss, or tried to put virginity into a legal box, the core of these suits was something uncomfortably personal. “Clearly the principal ground of the action is disappointed hope, and the injury complained of is a violation of faith,” wrote one lawyer in 1906.

    The question was how to turn “disappointed hope” and “violation of faith” into cold hard cash. Juries found themselves compensating plaintiffs for things like, “loss of social and worldly advancement,” “disappointment and incidental suffering,” injury to future marriage prospects, and even emotions like experiencing humiliation “in the social circles in which she moves.” The fact that these compensations all seemed to rely on “emotional sympathy and moral indignation,” as another lawyer wrote in 1935, made some people uncomfortable—especially as all-male juries seemed to be passing down awfully lucrative settlements when the plaintiff was a very pretty woman and the defendant was a very rich man.

    Naturally, these lucrative settlements—with their whiff of sex and drama—were big news, especially when women were walking out of the courtroom with $100,000, $200,000, or even $450,000 from their former suitors. This wasn’t justice, the papers said. This wasn’t restitution. This was a racket—a heart balm racket. And they weren’t entirely wrong.

    ********

    “Fair Sirens Who Seek to Blackmail Rich Men Weave Cunning Webs Which Enmesh Innocent in Hopeless Tangle,” crowed that Washington Post report on that “Siren on Ocean Liner” and all sorts of other nefarious females who used the slipperiness of heart balm laws to con upstanding men out of hundreds of thousands of dollars. The article claimed that female blackmailers were lurking around restaurants, cafes, hotels and other affluent watering holes, where they would pick up wealthy, unsuspecting men, go on a few dates with them (ensuring that they’d be spotted by witnesses or even secretly photographed), and then slap them with a breach of promise suit. As far as the innocent widower from the ocean liner? Upon receiving notice of the lawsuit against him, the article reported that he was “stunned almost out of his senses.”

    Polite society, too, was stunned out of their senses by the idea that women with winning smiles were wreaking havoc on men with the aid—nay, with the blessing of the legal system. These dodgy lawsuits played perfectly on people’s fears, tapping into the worst possible clichés of the battle of the sexes: dumb men seduced into trouble, wicked women using their looks for evil. It wasn’t that people thought all jilted women were evil; they just thought that innocent women didn’t sue.

    “A woman whose heart is really broken doesn’t take it into court,” wrote the popular advice columnist Dorothy Dix in 1915, and this sentiment was shared by many. A woman shrewd enough to save love letters as future evidence surely wasn’t the bruised, delicate flower she claimed to be.

    To be fair, the public’s hysteria had some basis in reality. A particularly bold lady blackmailer who went by the name Chicago May ran so many heart balm rackets that she boasted about them in her 1928 memoir. One involved a wealthy suitor who started sending her dirty drawings out of nowhere—the perfect evidence for a fake heart balm suit. (“The drawing was fairly good, but the subject matter was revolting,” she noted.) At one point, she was even conducting her blackmail business intercontinentally: living in London but occasionally popping back over to New York to check up on a heart balm racket or two. She referred to these as her “American investments.”

    Still, the angry editorials and cries for abolishment were mostly fueled by paranoia, not practicality. “Reading the editorials…one would conclude that there had seldom been an actual contract of engagement to marry that was unjustifiably broken,” one lawyer wrote in the Fordham Law Review. “The experience of practicing lawyers is decidedly otherwise.” It was “undue newspaper publicity,” another lawyer argued in the Michigan Law Review, that led to this impassioned public outcry against breach of promise suits. While there were plenty of ordinary suits led by ordinary jilted women (and occasionally a jilted man), it was the sleazy, salacious, high-profile cases that convinced people that these breach of promise laws had to go, and go fast.

    It wasn’t just the sleaziness that bothered people, though. Women’s roles were changing, and the core premise behind the breach of promise laws—that a broken engagement could wreck a woman’s future—was weakening. A woman dumped by her fiancé in 1930 wasn’t ruined the way she might have been a mere generation earlier. “There are many, many ways in which a girl can now earn her own living,” one journalist noted in The Hartford Courant. By the mid-1930s, public sympathy for the brokenhearted had mostly drained away, and the breach of promise suit was on its deathbed.

    ********

    In 1935, a young state legislator named Roberta West Nicholson introduced an anti-heart balm bill in Indiana. Other states quickly followed her lead, and by 1945, 16 states had abolished the breach of promise laws. Today, only a few jurisdictions still cling to them. (You’ll have to move to, say, North Carolina if you want to sue an ex-fiancé.)

    Some violently opposed Nicholson’s bill—one senator noted that it removed women’s civil rights “against philanderers and men who prey upon them.” Others praised her, while misunderstanding her reasons for writing the bill. To this day, certain men’s rights activists love Nicholson for leading the charge against what they see as a war on men; an “Anti-Misandry Legislator,” they call her. The irony is that Nicholson wrote the bill not to protect men, but because she thought women were better than heart balm. “I was pretty young and didn’t realize at first I was challenging a basic common law, that the woman was a chattel and that the man, in marrying her, was saying, ‘I buy you and agree to feed and clothe you,’” she told a journalist decades later. “I was an early woman’s libber and didn’t know it.”

    Yes, the outcry against the so-called heart balm racket wasn’t just from people convinced that unscrupulous women were abusing the system. There was an odd feminism to it. “It is gallantry gone to seed,” wrote Dix. “Moreover, it is not justice, for a woman capable of bringing suit is perfectly able to take care of herself in a love affair or any other business deal.”

    Where once marriage was something that gave women some semblance of power, now—the critics said—women had power of their own, married or not. They could make their own money. They could work on their own American investments. They were no longer defenseless, and so they did not need the law to defend them. In the midst of all the paranoia about blackmail and “vulgarity unspeakable,” a surprisingly modern portrait of marriage was emerging: a union of two people who could make up their own minds about each other and didn’t need the law to save them from themselves.

  • Whatever Happened to Eddie the Eagle, Britain’s Most Lovable Ski Jumper? | History | Smithsonian
    https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/whatever-happened-to-eddie-eagle-britains-most-lovable-ski-jumper-18

    A quarter century ago British plasterer-turned-ski jumper Michael Edwards made a name for himself—Eddie the Eagle—by not skiing or jumping very well at the Winter Olympics in Calgary. Short on talent but long on panache and derring-do, he had no illusions about his ability, no dreams of gold or silver or even bronze. Blinking myopically behind the bottle glass of his pink-and-white-rimmed glasses, he told the press: “In my case, there are only two kinds of hope—Bob Hope and no hope.”

    Undeterred, Edwards sluiced on. Wearing six pairs of socks inside hand-me-down ski boots, he stepped onto the slopes, pushed off down the steep ramp and rag-dolled through the air. When he touched down, broadcasters chorused: “The Eagle has landed!” By taking a huge leap of faith, Edwards captured the world’s imagination and achieved the sort of renown that can only come overnight.

    On this particular afternoon, a crowd of roughly three has massed in the driveway of Edwards’ duplex, where the Eagle has donned old ski togs. He shields his eyes from the low, fierce English sun and holds forth on his brilliant career.

    “When I started competing, I was so broke that I had to tie my helmet with a piece of string,” he says. “On one jump the string snapped, and my helmet carried on farther than I did. I may have been the first ski jumper ever beaten by his gear.”

    68 Eddie The Eagle Edwards - Ski Jump 1
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2LVihKXFwM

    #sport #UK #wtf

  • La fameuse « bulle des tulipes » aux Pays-Bas au 17e siècle a été très souvent utilisé de manière moralisatrice, pour mettre en garde contre les spéculations imprudentes. Par exemple, au moins deux articles anti-#Bitcoin sur trois citent cette bulle. C’est devenu le genre de mème que tout le monde cite en boucle… sans avoir vérifié les sources.

    Une historienne l’a fait et le résultat est que la bulle des tulipes était bien plus limitée que tout ce qu’on a raconté.

    https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/there-never-was-real-tulip-fever-180964915

    #spéculation #tulipes

  • Les 7 choses à savoir sur (la vraie) #Pocahontas
    http://contre-attaques.org/magazine/article/les-7-choses-a

    « Ils l’appellent Pocahontas. » Il y a quelques jours, Donald Trump provoquait un vif tollé aux #États-Unis en évoquant le surnom donné par les Républicains à Elizabeth Warren, une sénatrice démocrate qui revendique une filiation Cherokee. Et d’ajouter : « C’est l’une des personnes les moins productives du Sénat, on ne l’appelle pas Pocahontas sans raison. » Ces remarques, Trump a cru bon de les faire devant d’anciens « code talkers » Navajos, des soldats indigènes qui ont utilisé leur langue pour déjouer la (...)

    #Magazine

    / #carousel, Actualités, États-Unis, Pocahontas

    « http://www.naja.com/news/m.blog/509/naja-denounces-white-house-s-use-of-pocahontas-as-slur »
    « https://twitter.com/RuthHHopkins/status/935351475273859072 »
    « https://indiancountrymedianetwork.com/history/genealogy/true-story-pocahontas-historical-myths-versus-sad-reality »
    « https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/true-story-pocahontas-180962649 »