BY ANDREW LIN On artistic subcultures versus a catchy T-Swift single. First come the bass tones, heavy and minimalistic, the not-quite-identifiable apex of a musical progression stretching back through to Bach and Gibbons and a whole host of other dead names. Then come the opening lyrics, a barrage of monotone words that rapidly morph into a steady portrait of crazy infatuation slipping deeper and deeper. The chorus then progresses forth, calling forth a mock-grandeur grounded by resounding bass chords and the rolling elegy of the vocals and lyrics. And then more lyrics, sung in the same tune but this time …

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BY ANDREW LIN An exploration of the architecture of Nazi Germany. Through moldering archways and crumbling columns wind grim and mossy paths, streaking their way past ancient Corinthian capitals and decayed statues and all the detritus of the ancient world. This is the ruin archetypical, the classic picture of the remnants of the classical world, assembled for future generations to stare at and journey through, overawed at the grandeur of the empires that once were. Aesthetic comment aside, however, the architects and engineers of both past and present do not design their buildings with this ideal directly in mind: indeed, …

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BY ANDREW LIN A look into the world of mental wellness and science fiction. Into the padded cell the patient goes, probably wrapped in a straitjacket and gagged for good measure before being carted around to psychologists, wardens, and therapists inside a huge prison of an asylum, itself most likely done up in miserable and dour colonial red brick or grey concrete. The action soon moves from the stereotypical asylum to another prison — the victim’s hapless and malfunctioning mind, a jail cell in miniature populated by anthropomorphic representations of split personalities and devilish antagonists, cartoon representations of the havoc …

Continue reading The Sci-fi Mind Undone

BY ANDREW LIN An exploration of sci-fi planet-spanning behemoth cities and their artistic relation to us. The city of Cambridge, Massachusetts, home to a thriving population of 106,000[2] or so Cantabrigians and our own fair Harvard College, currently stands as a teeming suburb more or less integrated into the fabric of Boston proper. Cambridge, however, was not always a paradise resplendent in its indoor plumbing and Pinocchio’s and the bright neon signage of the Cambridge Savings Bank. Indeed, there once were men and women who, after months of sailing, arrived on the virgin shores of the Charles to build houses …

Continue reading Ecumenopoli 101