According to this week’s Financial Sense Newshour, Alex Jones has refused to appear on the program to debate Accuracy in Media on the subject of conspiracy (See our previous post here). One can’t help but feel that Jones walks away weaker for having refused the invitation, as the FSN podcast is one of the most respected alternative media programs on the internet and is uniquely positioned to address the topic in a way that is credible, informed and fair, not to mention the fact that it shares many of the same listeners as the Alex Jones radio show. I like Alex Jones as a media figure, and I think we’re all richer for what he’s brought to the debate, but it seems his rejection of the invitation betrays a lack of conviction in defending previous statements that he’s made on his program -- a warning, I think, to those that subscribe to his world view and believe his statemen
ts to b
e facts free from distortion and manipulation.
Codenamed "The Revenge Mix", or as my roommate put it, the "remember the music you all thought was so crappy?" mix. As much as this is a compilation of the music I was listening to in high school (almost exclusively thanks to my brother to whom this is dedicated), this is also for those who are still in high school today, looking for a dose of reality in an artificial world.
Devo had a lasting impact on my sense of aesthetics when I was first exposed to their music in high school. Like Kraftwerk and Joy Division, Devo tapped into the cool aesthetic, writing subversive songs about modern life and our relationship to technology in a way that was psychological and dark but still humorous and energizing. In this respect, their songs were a musical compliment to the novels of J.G. Ballard and William Burroughs, as well as the books released by RE/Search Publications out of San Francisco, the preeminent pre-Internet counterculture publisher that identified the aesthetic of cool that linked Ballard, Burroughs, the punk movement and the visual arts. Devo, like Ballard and Burroughs, used the contemporary language and icons of their time as the subject matter to satirize society and reformulate a new agenda for the human race, epitomized by William Burroughs’ signature line, “This is the space age and we are here to go”, of which Devo wrote their hit song “Here to Go”.
Unlike other bands such as The Smiths and New Order, I’ve continued listening to Devo, having fostered an ongoing appreciation for their songs about life in the world as I knew it, and, impressively, the songs have maintained their relevancy three decades after their original release. When news broke last year that the band had signed a landmark contract to record a new album with Warner Bros., I was fairly excited by the prospect, having never really lost interest in the band. Nevertheless, I had my doubts. They looked older, and I had a vague concern that they might be risking a unique and important legacy for a last self-indulgence in the glory days of their youth. My inherent pessimism, Devo-esque in nature, was based on the unlikelihood of their being able to match the quality and pioneering nature of their earlier work. So when I got around to listening to the band's latest creation on the Colbert Nation website where it had been streaming, I expected the worst. Much to my astonishment, however, and unbelievably, the music actually held up to my skeptical ears, and more, the album improved with each listen, until, surprisingly, I felt compelled to cherrypick individual tracks for repeated listens as I might have on one of their earlier albums. Counter to all my previous preconceptions, it slowly started to dawn on me that the band had sensationally created one of their best albums -- and – yes – believe it or not, there are actually some great songs on it. To call me shocked would have been an understatement.
Many people scoff at Devo, brushing them off as nothing more than a novelty act, but few are aware of the herculean task that they had accomplished when they first came on the scene in the late 1970s. Their charged up, dance songs about life and technology were the musical analog to J.G. Ballard’s science fiction stories that focused on the present, both of which seemed to have been deeply influenced by the Pop Art movement. Like Ballard an the Pop artists, Devo had managesd to create groundbreaking avant-garde art that was commercially accessible, an extremely rare mix. In a recent interview with NPR, Devo frontman Mark Mothersbaugh explained how they “always enjoyed the subversion of mixing fine art with commercial art” and how the Kent State massacre, at which him and bandmate Gerald Casale witnessed as art students, helped lay the groundwork for the band’s approach: "We had seen people get shot when we were in school, and we came to the opinion that rebellion and anarchy were obsolete, and the only way to change things in our culture was through subversion.” Far from selling out, commercial accessibility is an ideal for any art that is intended to be a vehicle for social change. As William Burroughs opined, “art creates new values,” and society’s establishment is never more at risk than when genuine art movements gain steam. In this respect, Devo can be viewed as a living, breathing pop art display delivering the wake up call to humanity, in style.
Devo navigated the landscape of modern consciousness and satirized it in the process, using the manipulative techniques of advertising to spread a message of subversion and dissent. Significantly, in their most recent incarnation, Devo have stuck to these very same principles, though this time, they’ve turbocharged their approach with contemporary tactics, using focus groups, hiring a CEO, and creating a reality show, among other novelties. These Trojan horse marketing campaigns are intended as strategic attempts to breakthrough to unsuspecting youths, cloaking an album of profound substance in the duplicitous gloss of the mass marketing machine. The cover to the album, as well as to the single “Fresh”, are further demonstrations of Devo’s attention to the details outside of the music itself, the images a clever mix of humour and subtle eroticism, resulting in some of the more artful album covers in recent memory.
“Sumthin’”:
As an album, Something for Everybody is a tightly produced, solid release from start to finish, both musically and lyrically, although there are at least three really great songs worth highlighting that rank alongside the best work in their entire catalogue. “Sumthin’”, after which the album is named, is the most exciting, with its upbeat rhythms, cool melodic synth stabs, and charged lyrical references to cable news media memes. Lines such as “I’m the leader of the Western world / The big decider in the neighborhood” and “I have to fix it like it’s just like new, / but the bankers tell me no can do” speak to current events in the news in ways that you simply don’t hear from other bands. The final verse is an even more direct example of the band’s concern with contemporary themes, reminiscent to Gerald Casale’s politically charged and almost completely ignored project from the peak of the Bush era, Jihad Jerry (of which we wrote about when no one else cared): “Psycho pundits keep on fanning the fire / Spin the story than they call ME a liar / Telling me how I should do my job / Dropping crumbs for the angry mob / Al-Queda and the Taliban / Fundamentally way out of hand / I keep trying to turn it all around / But the New World Order wants to take me down”.
“Later Is Now”:
The visionary “Later is Now” is probably the most unexpected accomplishment of the album, an activist anthem that has all of the energy and edge of their earlier work, but which has an unusual optimism that reveals a more mature and wiser Devo. Not only have the band equalled their earlier work in this song, but, in some respects, they’ve actually surpassed it. Twenty years later, it seems as if the band has come to terms with their own mortality in a way that isn’t present in their earlier work. “Later is now / Sooner or later / Everyone gets it right / Later is now / Sooner or later / Everything comes to light / Later is now.” This isn’t the sarcasm and irony of “It’s a Beautiful World” and, frankly, much as I love the bitterness of that song, it’s a welcome change. If there were ever a song to play at a protest this year, this would be it.
“No Place Like Home”:
Unbelievably, the band are able to follow up the epic “Later is Now” with the most sublime track on the album, “No Place Like Home”, a sobering requiem to the idea of the home, both in the sense of the planet as a whole, as well as the people with whom you share a roof. The gorgeous, haunting melody lives up to the humorous vocoded introduction, “A song of truth and beauty, for you...” and builds into a massive crescendo of melody and philosophic introspection. The poetic lyrics climax with the heartbreaking, beautifully crafted lines: “Can’t have a rainbow, without the rain; / Can’t have a painting without the pain, / Can’t have a lover, without the love leaving with them; / There’s no place like home, no place like home, to return to.” Powerful stuff.
In this release, Devo have shown themselves to be profound moralists, as they have in all of their previous albums. At the beginning of the BBC documentary “Another Green World”, Brian Eno explained how today’s music is different from the past, because there’s no sense of ideology attached to it. With their return, Devo have reintroduced political ideology back into pop music, and, in the process, given the counterculture (much as that might seem an outdated term in the age of the Internet) a much needed shot in the arm, reviving it from a decade long slumber with the fading of the rave scene at the end of the 1990s. The band’s creation of an album of comparable quality with their earlier incarnation -- something which almost never happens -- is a testament to their authenticity and conviction as true artists. They’re the real deal. Maybe focus groups under the right direction really are the way to go.
The Financial Sense Newshour podcast is probably the best kept secret in the alternative news media, covering financial topics and investment strategies in a solid and forthright manner that has built a cult following among its listeners. Host Jim Puplava has earned an unusual credibility with his audience for his cool demeanor, independent thought and fair inquiry into ideas that range from the mainstream to the fringe. On the July 17, 2010, edition of the program, Puplava announced that world renown conspiracy theorist Alex Jones had been invited on the show to debate a member of Accuracy in Media, a conservative think tank that exposes bias in the media, for a special show on hidden agendas and conspiracy, a topic that callers have been debating increasingly in recent months. In this audio excerpt, Puplava stated how he had yet to hear from Jones after extending the invitation, and that he couldn't guarantee Jones' appearance on the show. One hopes Jones accepts the request, as it would perhaps result in one of the most sensational events in the alternative media this summer, a real hard nosed looked into the reality and fiction of the hidden agendas claimed to be underpinning our societies.
In recent years, the term ‘new world order’ has become a pseudonym for conspiracy in mainstream parlance, alluding to an elite class of powerful individuals who supposedly pull the strings of Western governments from behind the scenes. Using propaganda as their main tool, this group is thought to actively pursue the erosion of national borders while methodically dismantling Western economies in an attempt to bring about a world government to subjugate the peoples of the world. Surprisingly, despite its conspiratorial connotations, the term ‘new world order’ is still used by Western politicians and the mainstream media, although, in a seemingly different context, describing the restructuring of geopolitical power and economic trade in the post-communist era following the fall of the Soviet Union and the Berlin Wall. Although the two definitions share similarities, the difference between the two general usages of the term are quite stark; nevertheless, they are often used interchangeably as if their meanings were one and the same, and, for better or for worse, the term is almost universally understood by the general public according to its conspiratorial definition. As a result, I was more than a little intrigued by the title of Jason Bermas’ recent documentary, “Invisible Empire: A New World Order Defined”, as the subtitle seemed to directly address this inherent ambiguity, of which the clarification could only benefit what has become a troubling and powerful meme in the mass psyche.
The documentary begins with a wide array of obscure video clips showing politicians and policy makers discussing the 'new world order' in various public forums, which, to Bermas’ credit, is probably the most comprehensive compilation of the phrase's usage on video. The overview effectively demonstrates that the term has, in fact, been the subject of much discussion among top policy makers since George H. Bush’s heavy promotion of a ‘new world order’ near the end of his term in office, which is particularly evident in rare footage of a commencement address he gave at Maxwell Air Force Base where it figures as one of the main themes. Despite this groundbreaking research, the interpretation of the material disappoints, as it seems as though Bermas is using the footage as evidence for the existence of a conspiracy, rather than making a genuine attempt to understand how the term is being used in its various contexts. For example, at times the term is used literally as a compound common noun without capitals, describing a world in which there will be a realignment of power e.g., "A new world order is taking shape", while at other times it is used as a proper noun with capitals, as if it was a formalized group of people that represented a specific ideology e.g., "The New World Order is taking over". For Bermas, there are no shades of grey; the use of the term 'new world order' is evidence in itself for the existence of a conspiracy, regardless of its context. This is tantamount to confusing a small ‘r’ republican with a big ‘R’ Republican, which, though loosely related, mean completely different things. Ironically, by blending all the different usages of the term 'new world order' into one narrow conspiratorial definiton, Bermas manages to further obfuscate the already ambiguous term, rather than clarifying it.
Another example of loose analysis is the often misinterpreted TIME “Person of the Year” designation, a title assigned to the world’s most influential individual in a given year, regardless of moral considerations of whether their influence was considered good or evil. Nevertheless, the conspiracy crowd often misinterprets the title as a
"Best Person in the World" award, which supports the narrative in which they've been intellectually invested, pointing to the apotheosizing of Hitler and Bernanke as evidence of TIME's involvement in the global conspiracy. And for all I know, TIME is in on a global conspiracy, as William Burroughs believed, and perhaps they are even trying to use the "Person of the Year" award in a subliminal manner; but the apparent ignorance of the nature of the title unnecessarily discredits the conspiratorial viewpoint. If this conspiracy is as serious as the conspiratorialists are leading us on to believe, it's time to get a little more scrupulous about the accuracy of what is being discussed.
Midway through the documentary, the narrative begins to lose its focus, straying into themes such as global warming and overpopulation, branding all public figures with any concern for either issues as evil in intent. Never do the conspiratorialists address the problem of whether there actually are too many people to sustain the current
levels of resource use on the planet. Nobody wants a china-like one child system, and most of us want a world with as much freedom as possible, but rational individuals should be allowed to ask these kinds of questions without being branded eugenicists, elitists, or even sexual deviants as is inferred in this film. What if there are too many people to sustain and feed on this planet? Are we supposed to ignore this question? The very mention of the issue is enough to be branded, tarred and feathered with the conspiracy crowd. This gross oversimplification and dogmatic approach to serious concerns, again, unnecessarily discredits many of the legitimate questions -- such as the role of the Federal Reserve and government overreach -- that the movement has. Unfortunately, there seems to be a widespread near-religious submissiom to dogma in the movement, which, frankly, seems all too similar to the strong adherence to Christian dogma to which many conspiracy theorists ascribe. It's no accident that both conspiracy theory and Christian fundamentalism share a strong susceptibility to apocalyptic fantasies of the coming end of the world in one's own lifetime.
Upon review, most fair minded people would admit that there is, in fact, a 'new world order' crowd, which is, in large part, comprised of member of the Council on Foreign Relations, the Trilateral Commission and even the Bilderberg group. The question remains, however, as to how unified their agenda is, as well as the nature of their intentions. Are they diabolical perverts maniacally driven to dominate and enslave the world, as Bermas suggests, or are they simply a group of forward looking internationalists, attempting to usher the world into a more enlightened era, free from war, by means of world government. The truth, I suspect, is somewhere in-between. Reality is much more complex than the black and white world of the conspiratorialists; on the other hand, the intentions of politicians and those that fund them are not as benevolent as the mainstream media would have
us believe. As is often the case, the reality is mixed. Thomas Jefferson, one of the great leaders of liberty and freedom on this planet, also had slaves. Painting world government and all the competing interests of the global elite with one broad brush will lead to over-simplified answers and inadequate analysis. If the current globalist agenda presents a threat to our individual freedom, as I suspect it does, it's time we adopted a more rigorous interpretative approach, one which admits it doesn't have all the answers, which is more skeptical of its own assumptions, and which is open to -- and even encourages -- self-critique.
Since I hadn’t seen anyone else mention it, I thought it was worth noting before the World Cup ended how similar the new Adidas football logo is to the Ableton Live logo from a few years back. Accidental? I doubt it.
Perhaps I should have anticipated the upcoming drama when I saw the Velvet Underground t-shirts while waiting in line to enter Lou Reed, Laurie Anderson and John Zorn’s all-star show at the Montreal International Jazz Festival. The concert took place at the Wilfrid-Pelletier theatre at Place des Arts in downtown Montreal, a gorgeous space that exuded civility and possibility, but shortly after the second piece, it became clear that civilized values would not rule the day.
Beginning a respectable 10 minutes after the 7:30pm show time, the three musicians took the stage to grand applause from an adulating crowd. From the very outset, though, things looked strange. Laurie Anderson and John Zorn seemed fairly together when they walked to their designated performance areas, but Lou Reed looked like he had something wrong with him, walking in a slow, gingerly manner across the stage, as if he was either suffering from a sinus infection or succumbing underneath the weight of an enormous ego -- it was difficult to tell. When he finally got to his chair, he hunched over his guitar in what looked like a hideously uncomfortable posture. As Reed took his time setting up, Zorn and Anderson were looking over at him quizzically, as if they were waiting for some form of communication from the elderly rocker, who was looking all of his 68 years on the planet. Finally, without looking up, he unleashed a drone from his guitar, which, again, seemed to confuse them, though within a minute or so, they had joined in alongside the noisy, feedback driven guitar squelch.
Within perhaps a minute or two, it became clear that the first performance was going to be more in the style of Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music than in the songs that made him and his wife famous. The folks who had come to see “Walk on the Wild Side” were going to get a little more than they had bargained for, though it shouldn’t have been all that surprising considering Reed and Anderson were sharing the bill with John Zorn, a musician who has built his career on experimental, avantgarde jazz improvisation. After the first song, which lasted about 10 minutes, the crowd applauded, though without the enthusiasm one might expect at such an all-star show, yet not all that unexpected either, considering the challenging nature of the music.
When the second piece began, it became increasingly clear that the drone improvisation shtick was what was on offer for the evening’s entertainment. I suspect that the trio’s working concept was to choose a note for each track around which each of the three experienced musicians would riff off of until the piece resolved itself on its own accord. Though it’s just speculation, I imagine there would have been some progression along a musical scale over the course of the night, which may have had a fairly interesting affect. Things never reached that point, however, as a man booed at the top of his lungs when the second song ended, beginning a sequence of events that led to the night’s unravelling. As the audience finished clapping, he yelled out once more, “BOOOooooo!”, at which point John Zorn yelled back, “If you don’t like it, you can F--- off!” which generated some applause and whistling in support. In the sound clip below, you'll here audience members jeer the performers in-between tracks and a barely audible John Zorn telling the man off followed by a second burst of applause:
Unfortunately for Zorn, the unintended consequence was that he had told about half the crowd to F-off, as many were ill-prepared for the experimental noise show. Personally, I found Zorn’s outburst a little unclassy, much as I might sympathize with what he was saying. I also found it a little surprising. From my own perspective, I found it invigorating to hear a crowd get upset about an art piece and I began telling my companion how glad I was that we had decided to attend what was becoming a sensational show. Boccioni’s Riot in the Galleria passed through my head, and I had mixed feelings of excitement and surprise that people still had the gumption to tell artists to shove it. The night had transformed from a well performed, hipster improv show to a serious happening.
When the third track continued in the same style, it had become too much for many in the audience, which -- amazingly -- proceeded to purposefully cut the song off early by applauding before it had even finished. At that point, there was a clearing of about 100 people from the theatre, while more audience members joined in on the jeering. Visibly frazzled, except for Lou Reed who was either too cool to care or suffering from some sort of ailment -- again, it was unclear which -- the trio huddled together for a small discussion, and -- shockingly -- bowed to the audience and exited stage left. Of course the people in the audience, having spent anywhere from $60 - $100 for tickets, gave them a standing ovation, cheering as loudly as they could, hoping they might return after playing for a mere 30 minutes. And, after 5 minutes or so, the musicians had returned to the stage and began a new drone, but this time over a more melodic chime hook that Anderson had stored in one of her keyboards. Unfortunately, the audience had become unruly at this point, one girl yelling “O Superman!” after they had already begun playing, a reference to Anderson’s 1980 hit and a microcosm of the entire misunderstanding that had occurred between the audience and the performers. As they played, it became painfully more obvious that the mood had been destroyed, and that they had been caught unprepared by what had transpired, their improvisations becoming less open and risky, Zorn’s screeching saxaphone sounding more and more like the vicious screams of a dying animal (which actually sounded pretty cool).
As the fourth song finished, Laurie Anderson began drifting off-stage, half bowing as if to let her fellow musicians know that the night was over and, after a few awkward seconds, they managed to get together for a final group bow before fleeing from the stage, Lou Reed trailing at half speed. Though I disagreed with the rude reaction of the crowd, I nevertheless felt that their premature ending of the concert betrayed a lack of conviction in their art. If you’re going to make difficult avant-garde art, you should be ready for an adverse reaction. If they really thought their show was going to knock our socks off, why wouldn’t they take the opportunity to prove the other audience members -- about 75% of the crowd -- right. I couldn't help feeling that their early departure was somehow an indightment of the avant-garde, an exposing of its own spiritual -- and perhaps even intellectual -- weakness. Their overly defensive reaction seemed to betray the conformist yuppee comfort of living in their own little New York bubble, rarely facing criticism of any kind, much less about their music. One wonders where the trio goes from here.
In this exclusive audio interview, legendary dub artist Lee 'Scratch' Perry warns us to save ourselves: "stop eating meat, quit drinking alcohol, stop taking drugs...you're body is the church." Highlights of the 25 minute phone conversation include Scratch discussing his "guardian angel", his upcoming album with Born Free and the Next Room, the nature of dub and reggae, and how "The government should be arrested -- the government is guilty" (if that's not a Tea Party protest slogan, I don't know what is). Special thanks to Born Free for making this happen. One love!
The release of Propellerheads pioneering Rebirth RB-338 software in 1996 heralded a new era in desktop music production, fulfilling dance music aficionados' long-held desire to have virtual versions of Roland's most sought after gear from the 1980s. With a PC and a little over $200, musicians were able to compose on convincing emulations of the TB-303 bassline synthesizer, as well as the TR-808 and TR-909 Rhythm Composer drum machines, pioneering instruments that played crucial roles in many landmark dance music tracks in the 1980s and 1990s. Having capitalized on this pent up demand, Propellerheads continued their foray into music production, creating the well known and equally influential Reason software, a complete virtual studio that sells for a fraction of the price of its hardware equivalent. Meanwhile the Rebirth RB-338 software was discontinued in 2005, having lost its relevance in the overcrowded music software market, and made available as a free download from the ReBirth Museum.
Having a solid track record for quality and innovation, Propellerheads release of the ReBirth iPhone app is cause for excitement in an industry that loves its toys, particularly considering the number of increasingly professional music making apps that have been released since the introduction of the iPad, a device likely to revolutionize music production in the coming years. Sadly, it seems that the attention to detail and user experience that characterized their desktop software was uncharacteristically overlooked in their first iPhone app, almost as if they had contracted out a third party to do the job for them. The sound itself is as good as the original software and no cause for complaint, but the interface borders on unusable.
The first thing one notices upon launching the app is how similar it is to the original software, as if the developers had literally cut the application out of a PC and pasted it into an iPhone. The proportions of the iPhone being different from a computer monitor results in a cropped view of the interface, with an awkward looking wooden frame pushing the TR-909 right off the screen. Aesthetics aside, the lack of adaption to the iPhone makes for a laborious user experience, as the control knobs are extremely small, requiring one to zoom in on a given device to make an adjustment, and sometimes requiring two to three attempts to select the right parameter, creating an experience that is choppy, difficult and seemingly unresponsive. This might have been the end of the world had the navigation been smoother, but, surprisingly, there is no touch scrolling, so moving around the interface is cumbersome. Instead, one is forced to double click to zoom in on each device, with no easy means of zooming out, prohibiting a quick workflow for laying out ideas. So it was a little mystifying to read an interview with Propellerheads CEO Ernst Nathorst-Böös in Create Digital Music, stating how much effort they had expended to create a fluid user experience:
We worked hard on the navigation, the zooming and panning, to make it feel natural. It was hard since there are so many controls on the screen (look at the 808!) and you need to move around quickly and fluently while never risking changes to the document. I really like how it turned out.
Admittedly, there are lots of controls, but it’s hard to imagine a more obtuse user experience than they currently have. The whole thing seems rushed, as if Propellerheads had submitted the app to Apple as soon as they had the first working prototype. Adding to these drawbacks, the image quality deteriorates upon zooming in, revealing lo-fidelity graphics, which makes it difficult to read the labels. This might not have been such a big deal had the app not cost $6.99, but for that price, cutting corners like this will simply lead to a bad reputation, particularly considering the gorgeous apps being released by Korg and Akai.
Many of the app’s shortfalls could have been avoided had the developers harnessed the unique touch capacities of the iPhone OS rather than sticking with the older, computer monitor and mouse, Windows based paradigm. Having a multi-screen interface that dedicates a single window to each device, as well as enlarging the buttons to increase ease of use would have gone a long way towards creating a more user friendly interface. Re-imagining the placement of the pattern sequencer and effects sections would have also helped to reduce clutter, perhaps giving each their own separate windows. Admittedly, this would have disrupted the visual emulation that the software has succeeded in reproducing and required a slight re-proportioning of the devices, but the benefits would have far outweighed the cost, turning an unpractical, but visually accurate app into what could have been one of the hippest, must have apps in the App Store. Propellerheads needs to fix this ongoing PR disaster and do it fast, as their credibility in what’s going to be a huge market is taking a massive hit.
The demand for a device like ReBirth on the iPhone is evident by the amount of music making applications available in the App Store, and it seems Propellerheads are squandering a royal opportunity to make a good first impression. At its current price (Korg’s i-Electribe is $7.99), this seems more like a cash grab than about building a credible foothold in the booming music production app market. Bringing ReBirth to the iPhone was a great idea, but because its user interface was not at all adapted to the iPhone, its execution failed miserably. Hopefully in future versions, Propellerheads will update the product in a manner that does justice to the original software.
Alex Grey unveiled his latest painting at the MAPS 2010 "Psychedelic Science in the 21st Century" conference on Saturday night. Painted in acrylic on canvas, "The Shulgins and their Alchemical Angels" features the portaits of Ann and Sasha Shulgin, a husband and wife team who were pioneer psychedelic researchers, most famous for their books PiHKAL and TiHKAL, which Grey inscribes at the top of the image. The molecule formation in Sasha Shulgin's hand is most likely a reference to the significant chemical discoveries he had made during his career.
