Monday, 29 October 2007

A. Zamyatin - WE

This novel has served as the inspiration for what has become, if not a genre, then at the very least a dominant sub-genre of science fiction. It is the first major dystopian novel, a precursor to George Orwell’s 1984, Aldus Huxley’s Brave New World, and Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, and its history, along with that of its author, eerily mimics some of the themes of those other books.
Written and completed in 1920, We was first published in English in 1924, then in Czech in 1927. It wouldn’t be published in Russian until 1952, some fifteen years after Zamyatin’s death. Even then, it was not published in Russia, but by the Chekhov Publishing House in New York. The edition I read for this review was translated by Mirra Ginsberg for publication in 1972, and has a wonderful introduction further outlining the major events in Zamyatin’s life.
However, it is not necessary to be intimately familiar with the totalitarian political structure of Stalin’s Russia to feel the full impact of We. Instead, the clarity of this book’s language and the amazing characterization and plotting carry the reader into a world both absurd and nightmarish, transcending what must have been the oppressive atmosphere in which it was written.
The narrator of this work is both numbered and lives at D-503, for in the world of We there are no names, only designations. He is the chief Builder of the One State’s most glorious project, the construction of a spaceship, the Integral. The work itself is a journal that is to be carried as cargo on the Integral, praising the efficiency, the rationality, and the happiness that life within the confines of the One State can bring to those worlds the Integral will someday visit.
The One State is overseen by the Benefactor, a deific figure portrayed with heavy hands, and a network of Guardians, who watch for anyone that might display the slightest irregular behavior. The One State exists within a glass dome, the rest of the planet supposedly rendered inhospitable during the Two Hundred Year War. Every building is made of this same glass, enabling any behavior not proscribed by the Table of Hours, the sacred text of the One State, to be easily seen and reported. Privacy is only allowed for sexual intercourse, and then only after applying for a pink coupon to be presented and validated in the front office of each housing complex.
As the journal progresses, D’s rigidly structured life grows in complexity as he meets I-330, a fiercely dominant woman who seduces him, first from his lover O-90, then from his beloved One State. While this crisis of conscience tears D apart, it also illustrates the problem facing the One State itself, that of imposing rationality upon humanity, when emotions and imagination so often lead to irrational behavior. Tension, paranoia, and passion build within D as he realizes that his seducer is part of a revolutionary society opposed to the One State. Yet even as he struggles with the desire to report her to the Benefactor, and weighs this against his own desire to join her in her revolution, he continues to believe that somehow the One State, and rationality, will prove to be his savior.
We is an exploration of the individual vs. the social order, a celebration of the importance of imagination, and ultimately, a warning regarding the dehumanizing consequences of imagination’s destruction. Zamyatin’s profound understanding of the human soul transcends what could have been a heavy, demagogic work. He celebrates the power of laughter, injecting a lightness into the text at the most unexpected points. I, pleasantly surprised at just how funny this work was, and at how well its science fiction aspects have withstood the changing times, certainly intend to read it again. Hopefully you, dear reader, will read it as well.

Brave New World vs. 1984

Although many similarities exist between Aldous Huxley's A Brave New World and George Orwell's 1984, they are more dissimilar than alike. A Brave New World is a novel about the struggle of Bernard Marx, who rejects the tenants of his society when he discovers that he is not truly happy. 1984 is the story of Winston who finds forbidden love within the hypocrisy of his society. In both cases, the main character is in quiet rebellion against his government which is eventually found to be in vain. Huxley wrote A Brave New World in the third person so that the reader could be allotted a more comprehensive view of the activities he presents. His characters are shallow and cartoon-like in order to better reflect the society in which they are entrapped. In this society, traditional notions of love and what ideally should result have long been disregarded and despised, "Mother, monogamy, romance. High spurts the fountain; fierce and foamy the wild jet. The urge has but a single outlet". The comparison to a wild jet is intended to demonstrate the inherent dangers of these activities. Many of the Brave New World's social norms are intended to “save” its citizens from anything unpleasant by depriving them of the opportunity to miss anything overly pleasant. The society values, “A COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, STABILITY,” supersede all else in a collective effort. Soma, the magical ultimate drug is what keeps the population from revolting. "What you need is a gram of soma... All the advantages of Christianity and alcohol; none of their defects". The drug is at the forefront of their daily lives supposedly providing freedom from life's every ill. The drug is used as a form of recreation, like sex, and its use is encouraged at any opportunity, especially when great emotions begin to arise. "The word [soma] from the Sanskrit language of ancient India. It means both an intoxicating drink used in the old Vedic religious rituals there and the plant from whose juice the drink was made - a plant whose true identity we don't know." They are conditioned to accept soma to calm and pacify them should they begin to feel anything too intensely. The conditioning also provides them with their place and prevents them from participating in social activities which they needn't take part in. (Smith) Class consciousness which Americans are so reluctant to acknowledge is taught through hypnopædia (The repetition of phrases during sleep akin to post hypnotic suggestion) for all social classes: In Brave New World, each name is a class or caste. Alphas and Betas remain individuals; only Gammas, Deltas, and Epsilons are bokanovskified. These casts are letters of the Greek alphabet. They are familiar to Huxley's original English readers because in English schools they are used as grades- like our As, Bs, etc.- with Alpha plus the best and Epsilon minus the worst. The conditioning is begun at an extremely young age and is our modern real-world standards cruel. “The screaming of the babies suddenly change the tone. There was something desperate, almost insane, about the sharp spasmodic yelps to which they now gave utterance". The children's "Pavlovian" conditioning with electric shocks is later compared to the wax seals which used to grace the seams of letters, "Not so much like drops of water, though water, it is true, can wear holes in the hardest granite; rather, drops of liquid sealing-wax, drops that adhere, incrust, incorporate themselves with what they fall on, till finally the rock is all one scarlet blob." The entire society is conditioned to shrink away from intense emotion, engage in casual sex, and take their pacifying soma. In 1984, a first-person book partly narrated by the main character's internal dialogue, the great party leader is "Big Brother." Big Brother is a fictional character who is somewhat more imposing than the leader "Ford," of Huxley's book, named after the industrialist Henry Ford. The main character Winston fears Big Brother and is much more aware of his situation than any of the characters in A Brave New World who are constantly pacified by soma. In A Brave New World history is ignored completely whereas in 1984 it is literally rewritten in order to suit the present. The role of science in both books is extensive and complicated. 1984's tele-screens cannot be turned off, as A Brave New World has "feelies," an advancement on "talkies" which added sound, "feelies" add tactile senses to a movie as well. Science and human progress is not acknowledged in A Brave New World, excepting when it increases consumption, whereas it is twisted with ironic titles in 1984, They were homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided: the Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts; the Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war; the Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order; and the Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty." The God (Ford) of A Brave New World encourages production and consumption of shallow objects to complement the shallow minds of its citizens. 1984 was written as a warning against the results of having a totalitarian state. Winston bears the blunt of his mistakes, the crime of individuality and dissention. A Brave New World is as much a satire on the reality of Huxley's day as it is a novel about the future. Neil Postman ...warned when a population becomes distracted by trivia, when cultural life is defined as a perpetual round of entertainments, when serious public conversation becomes a form of baby talk, and people become an audience and their public business a vaudeville act, then a nation finds itself at risk; cultural death is a clear possibility. Huxley seems to feel that society is progressing toward a materialistic and superficial end, in which all things of real value, including the relationships which make people human, will be squashed. The two works vary greatly, A Brave New World is the Huxley's expression of a fear that mankind will create a utopia by way of foregoing all that makes life worthwhile. Orwell's work rings more sharply of secret police paranoia. Indeed, Winston is taken to room 101, while Bernard is merely transferred to an uncomfortable location. The hypocrisy is much more evident within A Brave New World as well, owing to the controller's having had a son. Both books forewarn of a day when humankind might fall slave to its own concept of how others should act. The two books don’t ask whether societies with stability, pacification, and uniformity can be created, but whether or not they are worth creating. Too often people desire things and in wanting romanticize it. Thus disappointment what is finally obtained in the end. The characters serve as a reminder that it is necessary to have pain to compare with joy, defeat to compare with victory, and problems in order to have solutions. Both books end on negative notes; Bernard is exiled to work in Iceland and Winston is subjected to psychological treatment and then killed.

Saturday, 27 October 2007

Expressionist cinema

The first Expressionist films, notably The Golem (1915), The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), Nosferatu (1922), Phantom (1922), Raskolnikow (1923) and Schatten (1923), were highly symbolic and deliberately surrealistic portrayals of filmed stories. Other early examples came from Austria, just as Der Mandarin (1918) by Fritz Freisler, Der Märtyrer seines Herzens (1918) with Fritz Kortner, Inferno (1920) by Paul Czinner and The Hands of Orlac (1925) by Robert Wiene.
One of the best expressionist actors was Fritz Kortner, who played also in
Viennese films and Berlin-films. The dada movement was sweeping across the artistic world in the early 1920s, and the various European cultures of the time had embraced an ethic of change, and a willingness to look to the future by experimenting with bold, new ideas and artistic styles. The first Expressionist films made up for a lack of lavish budgets by using set designs with wildly non-realistic, geometrically absurd sets, along with designs painted on walls and floors to represent lights, shadows, and objects. The plots and stories of the Expressionist films often dealt with madness, insanity, betrayal, and other "intellectual" topics (as opposed to standard action-adventure and romantic films); the German name for this type of storytelling was called Kammerspielfilm (chamber film in English). Later films often categorized as part of the brief history of German Expressionism include Metropolis (1927) and M (1931), both directed by Fritz Lang.
The extreme non-realism of Expressionism was short-lived, and it faded away (along with
Dadaism) after only a few years. However, the themes of Expressionism were integrated into later films of the 1920s and 1930s, resulting in an artistic control over the placement of scenery, light, and shadow to enhance the mood of a film. This dark, moody school of filmmaking was brought to America when the Nazis gained power and a number of German filmmakers emigrated to Hollywood. They found a number of American movie studios willing to embrace them, and several German directors and cameramen flourished there, producing a repertoire of Hollywood films that had a profound effect on the medium of film as a whole.[citation needed]
Two genres that were especially influenced by Expressionism were the
horror film and film noir. Carl Laemmle and Universal Studios had made a name for themselves by producing such famous horror films of the silent era as Lon Chaney's The Phantom of the Opera. German emigrees such as Karl Freund (the cinematographer for Dracula in 1931) set the style and mood of the Universal monster movies of the 1930s with their dark and artistically designed sets, providing a model for later generations of horror films. Directors such as Fritz Lang, Billy Wilder, Otto Preminger, and Michael Curtiz introduced the Expressionist style to crime dramas of the 1940s, influencing a further line of filmmakers and taking Expressionism through the years.

German Expressionist Film Today
Ambitious adaptations of the style are depicted throughout the contemporary filmography of director
Tim Burton. His 1992 film Batman Returns is often cited as a modern attempt to capture the essence of German Expressionism. The angular building designs and severe-looking city squares of Gotham City evoke the loom and menace present in Lang’s Metropolis. One may even notice the link between the evil character of Max Shreck portrayed by Christopher Walken, and Nosferatu's star, Max Schreck.
Burton's influences are most obvious through his fairy tale suburban landscape in Edward Scissorhands . The appearance of the titular Edward Scissorhands none too accidentally reflects the look of Caligari's somnambulist servant. Burton casts a kind of unease in his candy-colored suburb, where the tension is visually unmasked through Edward and his gothic castle perched above the houses. Burton subverts the Caligari nightmare with his own narrative branding, casting the garish “somnambulist” as the hero, and the villagers as the villains.
The familiar look of Caligari's main character can also be seen in the movie The Crow. With the tight, black outfit, white makeup, and darkened eyes, Brandon Lee's character is obviously a close relative to Burton's film Edward Scissorhands.

The digestive system

Almost all animals have a tube-type digestive system in which food enters the mouth, passes through a long tube, and exits as feces (poop) through the anus. The smooth muscle in the walls of the tube-shaped digestive organs rhythmically and efficiently moves the food through the system, where it is broken down into tiny absorbable atoms and molecules.
During the process of absorption, nutrients that come from the food (including carbohydrates, proteins, fats, vitamins, and minerals) pass through channels in the intestinal wall and into the bloodstream. The blood works to distribute these nutrients to the rest of the body. The waste parts of food that the body can't use are passed out of the body as feces.
Every morsel of food we eat has to be broken down into nutrients that can be absorbed by the body, which is why it takes hours to fully digest food. In humans, protein must be broken down into aminoacids, starches into simple sugars, and fats into fatty acids and glycerol. The water in our food and drink is also absorbed into the bloodstream to provide the body with the fluid it needs.

How Digestion Works
The digestive system is made up of the alimentary canal (also called the digestive tract) and the other abdominal organs that play a part in digestion, such as the liver and pancreas. The alimentary canal is the long tube of organs — including the esophagus, stomach, and intestines — that runs from the mouth to the anus. An adult's digestive tract is about 30 feet (about 9 meters) long.

Digestion begins in the mouth, well before food reaches the stomach. When we see, smell, taste, or even imagine a tasty meal, our salivary glands, which are located under the tongue and near the lower jaw, begin producing saliva. This flow of saliva is set in motion by a brain reflex that's triggered when we sense food or think about eating. In response to this sensory stimulation, the brain sends impulses through the nerves that control the salivary glands, telling them to prepare for a meal.
As the teeth tear and chop the food, saliva moistens it for easy swallowing. A digestive enzyme called amylase, which is found in saliva, starts to break down some of the carbohydrates (starches and sugars) in the food even before it leaves the mouth.
Swallowing, which is accomplished by muscle movements in the tongue and mouth, moves the food into the throat, or pharynx. The pharynx, a passageway for food and air, is about 5 inches (12.7 centimeters) long. A flexible flap of tissue called the epiglottis reflexively closes over the windpipe when we swallow to prevent choking.
From the throat, food travels down a muscular tube in the chest called the esophagus. Waves of muscle contractions called peristalsis force food down through the esophagus to the stomach. A person normally isn't aware of the movements of the esophagus, stomach, and intestine that take place as food passes through the digestive tract.
At the end of the esophagus, a muscular ring or valve called a sphincter allows food to enter the stomach and then squeezes shut to keep food or fluid from flowing back up into the esophagus. The stomach muscles churn and mix the food with acids and enzymes, breaking it into much smaller, digestible pieces. An acidic environment is needed for the digestion that takes place in the stomach. Glands in the stomach lining produce about 3 quarts (2.8 liters) of these digestive juices each day.
Most substances in the food we eat need further digestion and must travel into the intestine before being absorbed. When it's empty, an adult's stomach has a volume of one fifth of a cup (1.6 fluid ounces), but it can expand to hold more than 8 cups (64 fluid ounces) of food after a large meal.
By the time food is ready to leave the stomach, it has been processed into a thick liquid called chyme. A walnut-sized muscular valve at the outlet of the stomach called the pylorus keeps chyme in the stomach until it reaches the right consistency to pass into the small intestine. Chyme is then squirted down into the small intestine, where digestion of food continues so the body can absorb the nutrients into the bloodstream.

The small intestine is made up of three parts: the duodenum, the C-shaped first part; the jejunum, the coiled midsection, and the ileum, the final section that leads into the large intestine.
The inner wall of the small intestine is covered with millions of microscopic, finger-like projections called villi. The villi are the vehicles through which nutrients can be absorbed into the body.
The liver (located under the rib cage in the right upper part of the abdomen), the gallbladder (hidden just below the liver), and the pancreas (beneath the stomach) are not part of the alimentary canal, but these organs are essential to digestion.
The liver produces bile, which helps the body absorb fat. Bile is stored in the gallbladder until it is needed. The pancreas produces enzymes that help digest proteins, fats, and carbohydrates. It also makes a substance that neutralizes stomach acid. These enzymes and bile travel through special channels (called ducts) directly into the small intestine, where they help to break down food. The liver also plays a major role in the handling and processing of nutrients, which are carried to the liver in the blood from the small intestine.
From the small intestine, undigested food (and some water) travels to the large intestine through a muscular ring or valve that prevents food from returning to the small intestine. By the time food reaches the large intestine, the work of absorbing nutrients is nearly finished.

The large intestine's main function is to remove water from the undigested matter and form solid waste that can be excreted. The large intestine is made up of these three parts:
The cecum is a pouch at the beginning of the large intestine that joins the small intestine to the large intestine. This transition area expands in diameter, allowing food to travel from the small intestine to the large.
The appendix, a small, hollow, finger-like pouch, hangs at the end of the cecum. Doctors believe the appendix is left over from a previous time in human evolution. It no longer appears to be useful to the digestive process.
The colon extends from the cecum up the right side of the abdomen, across the upper abdomen, and then down the left side of the abdomen, finally connecting to the rectum. The colon has three parts: the ascending colon; the transverse colon, which absorb fluids and salts; and the descending colon, which holds the resulting waste. Bacteria in the colon help to digest the remaining food products.
The rectum is where feces are stored until they leave the digestive system through the anus as a bowel movement.


W. Shakespeare - The Taming of the Shrew

KATHARINA

Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:
It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks and true obedience;
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am ashamed that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace;
Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love and obey.
Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions and our hearts
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband's foot:
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready; may it do him ease.

Friday, 19 October 2007

Shakespeare - Richard III - act 1, scene 1

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,
About a prophecy, which says that 'G'
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here
Clarence comes.

J.J. Rousseau - On the origins of inequality among men


The first man who, having enclosed a piece of ground, bethought himself of saying This is mine, and found people simple enough to believe him, was the real founder of civil society. From how many crimes, wars and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows, "Beware of listening to this impostor; you are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody." But there is great probability that things had then already come to such a pitch, that they could no longer continue as they were; for the idea of property depends on many prior ideas, which could only be acquired successively, and cannot have been formed all at once in the human mind. Mankind must have made very considerable progress, and acquired considerable knowledge and industry which they must also have transmitted and increased from age to age, before they arrived at this last point of the state of nature. Let us then go farther back, and endeavour to unify under a single point of view that slow succession of events and discoveries in the most natural order.
Man's first feeling was that of his own existence, and his first care that of self-preservation. The produce of the earth furnished him with all he needed, and instinct told him how to use it. Hunger and other appetites made him at various times experience various modes of existence; and among these was one which urged him to propagate his species — a blind propensity that, having nothing to do with the heart, produced a merely animal act. The want once gratified, the two sexes knew each other no more; and even the offspring was nothing to its mother, as soon as it could do without her.

Such was the condition of infant man; the life of an animal limited at first to mere sensations, and hardly profiting by the gifts nature bestowed on him, much less capable of entertaining a thought of forcing anything from her. But difficulties soon presented themselves, and it became necessary to learn how to surmount them: the height of the trees, which prevented him from gathering their fruits, the competition of other animals desirous of the same fruits, and the ferocity of those who needed them for their own preservation, all obliged him to apply himself to bodily exercises. He had to be active, swift of foot, and vigorous in fight. Natural weapons, stones and sticks, were easily found: he learnt to surmount the obstacles of nature, to contend in case of necessity with other animals, and to dispute for the means of subsistence even with other men, or to indemnify himself for what he was forced to give up to a stronger.

In proportion as the human race grew more numerous, men's cares increased. The difference of soils, climates and seasons, must have introduced some differences into their manner of living. Barren years, long and sharp winters, scorching summers which parched the fruits of the earth, must have demanded a new industry. On the seashore and the banks of rivers, they invented the hook and line, and became fishermen and eaters of fish. In the forests they made bows and arrows, and became huntsmen and warriors. In cold countries they clothed themselves with the skins of the beasts they had slain. The lightning, a volcano, or some lucky chance acquainted them with fire, a new resource against the rigours of winter: they next learned how to preserve this element, then how to reproduce it, and finally how to prepare with it the flesh of animals which before they had eaten raw.

This repeated relevance of various beings to himself, and one to another, would naturally give rise in the human mind to the perceptions of certain relations between them. Thus the relations which we denote by the terms, great, small, strong, weak, swift, slow, fearful, bold, and the like, almost insensibly compared at need, must have at length produced in him a kind of reflection, or rather a mechanical prudence, which would indicate to him the precautions most necessary to his security.

The new intelligence which resulted from this development increased his superiority over other animals, by making him sensible of it. He would now endeavour, therefore, to ensnare them, would play them a thousand tricks, and though many of them might surpass him in swiftness or in strength, would in time become the master of some and the scourge of others. Thus, the first time he looked into himself, he felt the first emotion of pride; and, at a time when he scarce knew how to distinguish the different orders of beings, by looking upon his species as of the highest order, he prepared the way for assuming pre-eminence as an individual.

Other men, it is true, were not then to him what they now are to us, and he had no greater intercourse with them than with other animals; yet they were not neglected in his observations. The conformities, which he would in time discover between them, and between himself and his female, led him to judge of others which were not then perceptible; and finding that they all behaved as he himself would have done in like circumstances, he naturally inferred that their manner of thinking and acting was altogether in conformity with his own. This important truth, once deeply impressed on his mind, must have induced him, from an intuitive feeling more certain and much more rapid than any kind of reasoning, to pursue the rules of conduct, which he had best observe towards them, for his own security and advantage.

Taught by experience that the love of well-being is the sole motive of human actions, he found himself in a position to distinguish the few cases, in which mutual interest might justify him in relying upon the assistance of his fellows; and also the still fewer cases in which a conflict of interests might give cause to suspect them. In the former case, he joined in the same herd with them, or at most in some kind of loose association, that laid no restraint on its members, and lasted no longer than the transitory occasion that formed it. In the latter case, every one sought his own private advantage, either by open force, if he thought himself strong enough, or by address and cunning, if he felt himself the weaker.

In this manner, men may have insensibly acquired some gross ideas of mutual undertakings, and of the advantages of fulfilling them: that is, just so far as their present and apparent interest was concerned: for they were perfect strangers to foresight, and were so far from troubling themselves about the distant future, that they hardly thought of the morrow. If a deer was to be taken, every one saw that, in order to succeed, he must abide faithfully by his post: but if a hare happened to come within the reach of any one of them, it is not to be doubted that he pursued it without scruple, and, having seized his prey, cared very little, if by so doing he caused his companions to miss theirs.

It is easy to understand that such intercourse would not require a language much more refined than that of rooks or monkeys, who associate together for much the same purpose. Inarticulate cries, plenty of gestures and some imitative sounds, must have been for a long time the universal language; and by the addition, in every country, of some conventional articulate sounds (of which, as I have already intimated, the first institution is not too easy to explain) particular languages were produced; but these were rude and imperfect, and nearly such as are now to be found among some savage nations.

Hurried on by the rapidity of time, by the abundance of things I have to say, and by the almost insensible progress of things in their beginnings, I pass over in an instant a multitude of ages; for the slower the events were in their succession, the more rapidly may they be described.

These first advances enabled men to make others with greater rapidity. In proportion as they grew enlightened, they grew industrious. They ceased to fall asleep under the first tree, or in the first cave that afforded them shelter; they invented several kinds of implements of hard and sharp stones, which they used to dig up the earth, and to cut wood; they then made huts out of branches, and afterwards learnt to plaster them over with mud and clay. This was the epoch of a first revolution, which established and distinguished families, and introduced a kind of property, in itself the source of a thousand quarrels and conflicts. As, however, the strongest were probably the first to build themselves huts which they felt themselves able to defend, it may be concluded that the weak found it much easier and safer to imitate, than to attempt to dislodge them: and of those who were once provided with huts, none could have any inducement to appropriate that of his neighbour; not indeed so much because it did not belong to him, as because it could be of no use, and he could not make himself master of it without exposing himself to a desperate battle with the family which occupied it.

The first expansions of the human heart were the effects of a novel situation, which united husbands and wives, fathers and children, under one roof. The habit of living together soon gave rise to the finest feelings known to humanity, conjugal love and paternal affection. Every family became a little society, the more united because liberty and reciprocal attachment were the only bonds of its union. The sexes, whose manner of life had been hitherto the same, began now to adopt different ways of living. The women became more sedentary, and accustomed themselves to mind the hut and their children, while the men went abroad in search of their common subsistence. From living a softer life, both sexes also began to lose something of their strength and ferocity: but, if individuals became to some extent less able to encounter wild beasts separately, they found it, on the other hand, easier to assemble and resist in common.

The simplicity and solitude of man's life in this new condition, the paucity of his wants, and the implements he had invented to satisfy them, left him a great deal of leisure, which he employed to furnish himself with many conveniences unknown to his fathers: and this was the first yoke he inadvertently imposed on himself, and the first source of the evils he prepared for his descendants. For, besides continuing thus to enervate both body and mind, these conveniences lost with use almost all their power to please, and even degenerated into real needs, till the want of them became far more disagreeable than the possession of them had been pleasant. Men would have been unhappy at the loss of them, though the possession did not make them happy.

Thursday, 18 October 2007

Platoon - A review by P. Attanasio

"Platoon" is a triumph for Oliver Stone, a film in which a visceral approach to violence, which has always set him apart, is balanced by classical symmetries and a kind of elegiac distance. This is not the Vietnam of op-ed writers, rabble-rousers or esthetic visionaries, not Vietnam-as-metaphor or Vietnam-the-way-it-should-have-been. It is a movie about Vietnam as it was, alive with authenticity, seen through the eyes of a master filmmaker who lost his innocence there.
And in that way, "Platoon" is the first serious youth movie in ages, for at its heart, the war is treated as a rite of passage in its most intense form. Chris Taylor (Charlie Sheen) volunteers out of idealism; the first thing he encounters, on the airport tarmac in Saigon, is a cart of body bags. It's downhill from there. As the movie progresses, a kind of civil war develops within the platoon, between the "juicers" (who drink) and the "heads" (who smoke dope). Sgt. Barnes (Tom Berenger) leads the juicers, who will do anything they need to survive -- some of them thrive on violence. Sgt. Elias (Willem Dafoe) is chief of the heads, who are trying to survive with some shred of their humanity left intact. Put schematically, Barnes represents the death instinct, Elias the life instinct.
But "Platoon" is anything but schematic -- without the architecture, the emotion would overflow. The movie is beautifully written (by Stone), constructed with strong, clean lines, immaculately paced and regularly surprising. Stone uses dialogue to evoke social class and a bygone era, or to add humor -- the talk is street-smart and wittily profane. And when Stone writes a speech, he writes a speech -- he's a one-man antidote to the sterile, laconic naturalism that has dominated screen writing for years. A platoon is, after all, a fairly large group, and the highest achievement, perhaps, of Stone's writing is the vividness with which he has drawn the supporting players, and the clarity with which he's orchestrated our sympathies toward them. That supporting cast is uneven -- in particular, John McGinley enters the realm of cartoon as Sgt. Barnes' second banana, and Kevin Dillon's sullen affectations pull you out of the movie's powerful reality. On the other hand, though, there is a staggeringly good performance by Keith David, as a vet counting the days till his discharge who befriends Chris; fine work by Francesco Quinn, as the headiest of the heads, and Mark Moses as the hapless lieutenant. But the stars are so good, the supporting cast almost doesn't matter. Charlie Sheen, an actor with square-jawed, neighborly good looks, exerts a quiet authority at the film's center, a bright alertness -- he's not sensitive, exactly, but sensitized, drinking it all in. He anchors the more florid performances of the two sergeants warring for his soul.
And in choosing those two, Stone has brilliantly cast against type: Dafoe, who has previously played sleek villains, becomes the humanist Elias; Berenger, the amiably hunkish TV star from "The Big Chill," becomes a monster with scars crawling across his face. By turning Dafoe, a classic villain, into a saint, Stone gives you a sense of the anguish of sainthood -- you get the sense that Dafoe's Elias has battled back his own dark side.
Similarly, Berenger's Barnes seems less like a cardboard Satan than a kind of ruined man -- you see the high school football hero he once was. In "Platoon," Stone creates a sense of brooding ominousness, an atmosphere teeming with danger; he also shows a soldier's boredom, the endless hikes and ditch-digging, without ever boring the audience. And he gets in the irritations of war, too -- "Platoon" is a marvelously tactile movie, in which you feel the heat, the rain, the bugs and snakebites.
But mostly, Stone, himself a Vietnam veteran, shows you the fear and confusion of war, the sleeplessness, and the terror when you finally fall asleep and invite an ambush; the odd sort of scorekeeping after the ambush, when you count how many you "got" and discover that one of your own had his chest blown apart. "Platoon" has the most brilliantly realistic war footage of any Vietnam movie yet, startling, chaotic battles without an overlay of esthetics or ballet. Which is not to say that "Platoon" is entirely inside the action.
It may be about Chris Taylor, but the point of view belongs to someone older, who has looked back and made sense of it, sorted out the heroes and villains, learned a lesson. Scored largely (by Georges Delerue) with Samuel Barber's mournful Adagio for Strings, shot in craftsmanlike style (by Robert Richardson) on a minuscule budget, "Platoon" has the sad intimacy of an old ache. And for all its agitation, it has moments of beauty that seem to slow time. "Platoon" has obvious flaws, particularly the hero's voice-over narration, which adds little, and pieces of acting and writing that simply go over the top.
But that's the thing about Oliver Stone -- when he errs, it's always because he's gone too far, never because he hasn't gone far enough. In the past year, with "Salvador" and "Platoon," he has gone from a screen writer who seemed to bring out the worst in the directors who hired him to one of the five or six American directors who matter. He stands almost alone on the contemporary scene -- a writer-director with a strong stylistic signature, stronger political convictions and an unplumbable heart.

Full metal jacket - a review by Slyder

As I watched Full Metal Jacket, I was totally impressed by the way legendary director Stanley Kubrick, could build such a piece like this. I enjoyed it very much but was pretty astounded by the message that it gave out, and certainly makes me wonder about the coining of this movie as “The Greatest War Film Ever Made,” though Platoon and Apocalypse Now could give it a run for its money.
But certainly this was a great rebound for Kubrick after his commercial failure “The Shinning,” and pretty much this film has become another classic in the Kubrick library.
So the story follows the experience of Private Joker (Mathew Modine), who joins the marines, and he and a squad of recruits undergo a scorching, dehumanizing and downright mentally and physically exhausting combat training.
Led by brutal Sergeant Hartman (R. Lee Ermey), the recruits learn what it takes to be trained killers, and to be fearless against the enemy. The audience manages to also learn about the toll that it has on the recruits, especially Private Gomer Pyle (A then-chubby Vincent D’Onofrio), whose cracking under pressure and low self-esteem would eventually prove devastating.After his experience and graduation Private Joker is sent into Vietnam to fight the war and more so to as a Marine correspondent for Stars and Stripes magazine.
But as he covers the war, Joker must also fight to stay alive in the lethal hunting grounds of Vietnam.The first thing that comes to mind is comparison, since that’s the only way to make sense of why would Kubrick would set up the film in two parts. Anyways, both sections show how the elements of war affect an ordinary person.
The training and the fighting are always the challenges, but also take a toll on somebody since you’re always physically and mentally abusing from your own self. Both training and real war have their own points of brutality. Training has is strong point on being brutal on the human body and mind, it teaches you and beats you to pulp until you learn on how to act like an animal, how to kill on sight, and that takes a toll on a person, it changes you forever, and can no longer be the same person you were before, instead your mind is filled with hate, and filled with the urge and desire to kill somebody, you’ve just become a killing machine.
The first state of dehumanization has ended.Due to the brutality of the first part, the second part isn’t as mesmerizing as the first one, but its still captivating, and it follows our recently baptism-of-fire-ed Private Joker as a correspondent to an army gazette. But as he joins a fellow platoon to cover the latest in the Tet Offensive, we are also met with plenty of soldiers, and how they behave now. They’re more hardcore, they’re deranged gung-hoes, some more than others.
For some of these soldiers this war is a nightmare, and they want to go home, for others, it’s a heaven, and they kill people like crazy. It doesn’t show as much as in the first section but we can clearly see the second stage of dehumanization (a trademark in mostly all Kubrick films), on how the trained killers react on a real life war environment. These people at first have never killed anyone before, and now, after been brainwashed in the boot camp, they see the enemy and go kill without mercy, without remorse. This of course leads to savagery and madness.
So what are the similarities between the two? Were shown from the top, and through our guide, Private Joker, that war is hell, but we fight to preserve the peace, to preserve freedom, or simply to see how it brings out the worst in people.
Of course, that’s what most war movies are all about right? But what’s most unique about this film is that it isn’t a pro-war movie, much less an anti-war movie. Kubrick masterfully narrates the story on both sides of the genre of war, and lays all the cards on the table, with the audience free to choose the point of view that they want, in other words, the movie is whatever you want it to be (a good example is Joker’s outfit, he carries a peace sign medallion and in his helmet is written “Born To Kill”). The film never stops being a portrayal of the Marine Corps, but the involvement in the war and the aspects of war are laid around as the subplots and background of the main story, it doesn’t help a cause nor is against a cause nor it even supports a cause. It’s just a story of a soldier and his involvement in the Marines.
The performances were great from all over. Modine gives out one of the best performances of his career. But R. Lee Ermey astounds in the role of the brutal Drill Sergeant Hartman, how could he not? He was one in real life. Vincent D’Onofrio was also great in a physically and mentally demanding role as the stricken Private Gomer Pyle, while Adam Baldwin also shows us another dark side of humanity as the gung-ho Private Animal Mother. Kubrick’s direction as always is top notch, and the script, co-written by Gustav Hartford was also great.
In the end, I recommend everyone to watch this movie. It’s a war movie yes, but it’s like no other war movie, it doesn’t support no left or right, it stays in the middle and simply tells its story, and never veers off to any direction. For a film to do that requires someone with a lot of talent. But hey, only a great director like Stanley Kubrick would’ve pulled it off. He’ll be sorely missed.

Wednesday, 17 October 2007

Hobbes - The Leviathan

Types of commonwealth
There are three (monarchy, aristocracy and democracy):
The difference of Commonwealths consisted in the difference of the sovereign, or the person representative of all and every one of the multitude. And because the sovereignty is either in one man, or in an assembly of more than one; and into that assembly either every man hath right to enter, or not every one, but certain men distinguished from the rest; it is manifest there can be but three kinds of Commonwealth. For the representative must needs be one man, or more; and if more, then it is the assembly of all, or but of a part. When the representative is one man, then is the Commonwealth a monarchy; when an assembly of all that will come together, then it is a democracy, or popular Commonwealth; when an assembly of a part only, then it is called an aristocracy. Other kind of Commonwealth there can be none: for either one, or more, or all, must have the sovereign power (which I have shown to be indivisible) entire.
And only three:
There be other names of government in the histories and books of policy; as tyranny and oligarchy; but they are not the names of other forms of government, but of the same forms misliked. For they that are discontented under monarchy call it tyranny; and they that are displeased with aristocracy call it oligarchy: so also, they which find themselves grieved under a democracy call it anarchy, which signifies want of government; and yet I think no man believes that want of government is any new kind of government: nor by the same reason ought they to believe that the government is of one kind when they like it, and another when they mislike it or are oppressed by the governors.
And monarchy is the best, on practical grounds:
The difference between these three kinds of Commonwealth consisteth, not in the difference of power, but in the difference of convenience or aptitude to produce the peace and security of the people; for which end they were instituted. And to compare monarchy with the other two, we may observe: first, that whosoever beareth the person of the people, or is one of that assembly that bears it, beareth also his own natural person. And though he be careful in his politic person to procure the common interest, yet he is more, or no less, careful to procure the private good of himself, his family, kindred and friends; and for the most part, if the public interest chance to cross the private, he prefers the private: for the passions of men are commonly more potent than their reason. From whence it follows that where the public and private interest are most closely united, there is the public most advanced. Now in monarchy the private interest is the same with the public. The riches, power, and honour of a monarch arise only from the riches, strength, and reputation of his subjects. For no king can be rich, nor glorious, nor secure, whose subjects are either poor, or contemptible, or too weak through want, or dissension, to maintain a war against their enemies; whereas in a democracy, or aristocracy, the public prosperity confers not so much to the private fortune of one that is corrupt, or ambitious, as doth many times a perfidious advice, a treacherous action, or a civil war.

Hobbes - The Leviathan

Part II: Of Common-wealth

The purpose of a commonwealth is given at the start of Part II: THE final cause, end, or design of men (who naturally love liberty, and dominion over others) in the introduction of that restraint upon themselves, in which we see them live in Commonwealths, is the foresight of their own preservation, and of a more contented life thereby; that is to say, of getting themselves out from that miserable condition of war which is necessarily consequent, as hath been shown, to the natural passions of men when there is no visible power to keep them in awe, and tie them by fear of punishment to the performance of their covenants....

The commonwealth is instituted when all agree to: I authorise and give up my right of governing myself to this man, or to this assembly of men, on this condition; that thou give up, thy right to him, and authorise all his actions in like manner.

The sovereign has twelve principal rights:

because a successive covenant cannot override a prior, the subjects cannot (lawfully) change the form of government.
because the covenant forming the commonwealth is the subjects giving to the sovereign the right to act for them, the sovereign cannot possibly breach the covenant; and therefore the subjects can never argue to be freed from the covenant because of the actions of the sovereign.
the selection of sovereign is (in theory) by majority vote; the minority have agreed to abide by this.
every subject is author of the acts of the sovereign: hence the sovereign cannot injure any of his subjects, and cannot be accused of injustice.
following this, the sovereign cannot justly be put to death by the subjects.
because the purpose of the commonwealth is peace, and the sovereign has the right to do whatever he thinks necessary for the preserving of peace and security and prevention of discord, therefore the sovereign may judge what opinions and doctrines are averse; who shall be allowed to speak to multitudes; and who shall examine the doctrines of all books before they are published.
to prescribe the rules of civil law and property.
to be judge in all cases.
to make war and peace as he sees fit; and to command the army.
to choose counsellors, ministers, magistrates and officers.
to reward with riches and honour; or to punish with corporal or pecuniary punishment or ignominy.
to establish laws of honour and a scale of worth.
Hobbes explicitly rejects the idea of Separation of Powers, in particular the form that would later become the separation of powers under the United States Constitution. Part 6 is a perhaps under-emphasised feature of Hobbes's argument: his is explicitly in favour of censorship of the press and restrictions on the rights of free speech, should they be considered desirable by the sovereign in order to promote order.

Monday, 15 October 2007

Beer - ingredients and styles

The basic ingredients of beer are water; a fermentable starch source, such as malted barley; and yeast. It is common for a flavouring to be added, the most popular being hops. A mixture of starch sources may be used, with the secondary starch source, such as corn, rice and sugar, often being termed an adjunct, especially when used as a lower cost substitute for malted barley.

Water
Beer is composed mostly of water, and water used to make beer nearly always comes from a local source. The mineral components of water are important to beer because minerals in the water influence the character of beer made from it. Different regions have water with different mineral components. As a result, different regions are better suited to making certain types of beer. For example,
Dublin has hard water well-suited to making stout, such as Guinness, and Pilzen has soft water well-suited to making pale lager, such as Pilsner Urquell. As a result, it is argued that the mineral components of water have an influence on the character of regional beers.

Starch source
The starch source in a beer provides the fermentable material in a beer and is a key determinant of the character of the beer. The most common starch source used in beer is malted grain. Grain is malted by soaking it in water, allowing it to begin
germination, and then drying the partially germinated grain in a kiln. Malting grain produces enzymes that convert starches in the grain into fermentable sugars. Different roasting times and temperatures are used to produce different colours of malt from the same grain. Darker malts will produce darker beers.
Nearly all beer includes barley malt as the majority of the starch. This is because of its fibrous husk, which is important in the sparging stage of brewing, and high concentration of
amylase, a digestive enzyme which facilitates conversion of starch into sugars. Other malted and unmalted grains (including wheat, rice, oats, and rye, and less frequently, corn and sorghum) may be used.
Hops

Crushed hops
The flower of the
hop vine is used as a flavouring and preservative agent in nearly all beer made today. The flowers themselves are often called "hops." The use of hops in beer was recorded by captive Jews in Babylon around 400 BCE. Hops were used by monastery breweries, such as Corvey in Westphalia, Germany, from 822 CE,, though the date normally given for widespread cultivation of hops for use in beer is the thirteenth century.
Hops contain several characteristics that brewers desire in beer: hops contribute a bitterness that balances the sweetness of the malt; hops also contribute floral, citrus, and herbal aromas and flavours to beer; hops have an antibiotic effect that favours the activity of brewer's yeast over less desirable microorganisms; and the use of hops aids in "head retention", the length of time that a foamy head created by carbonation will last. The bitterness of beers is measured on the International Bitterness Units scale. Beer is the sole major commercial use of hops.
In the past, other plants have been used for similar purposes; for instance,
Glechoma hederacea. Combinations of various aromatic herbs, berries, and even ingredients like wormwood would be combined into a mixture known as gruit and used as hops are now used.

Yeast
Main articles:
Brewer's yeast, Saccharomyces cerevisiae, and Saccharomyces uvarum
Yeast is the microorganism that is responsible for fermentation in beer. Yeast metabolizes the sugars extracted from grains, which produces alcohol and carbon dioxide, and thereby turns wort into beer. In addition to fermenting the beer, yeast influences the character and flavour. The dominant types of yeast used to make beer are ale yeast (Saccharomyces cerevisiae) and lager yeast (Saccharomyces uvarum); their use distinguishes ale and lager. Brettanomyces ferments lambics, and Torulaspora delbrueckii ferments Bavarian weissbier. Before the role of yeast in fermentation was understood, fermentation involved wild or airborne yeasts. A few styles such as lambics rely on this method today, but most modern fermentation adds pure yeast cultures directly to wort.

Clarifying agent
Some brewers add one or more
clarifying agents to beer. Common examples of these include isinglass finings, obtained from swimbladders of fish; kappa carrageenan, derived from seaweed; Irish moss, a type of red algae; polyclar (artificial), and gelatin. Clarifying agents typically precipitate out of the beer along with protein solids, and are found only in trace amounts in the finished product.
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Types and styles of beer
A great many beers are brewed across the globe. Local traditions will give beers different names, giving the impression of a multitude of different styles. However, the basics of brewing beer are shared across national and cultural boundaries.
The British beer writer
Michael Jackson wrote about beers from around the world in his 1977 book The World Guide To Beer and organised them into local style groups based on local information. This book had an influence on homebrewers in United States who developed an intricate system of categorising beers which is exemplified by the Beer Judge Certification Program.
The traditional European brewing regions — Germany,
Belgium, the United Kingdom, Ireland, Poland, the Czech Republic, Denmark, The Netherlands and Austria — have local varieties of beer. In some countries, notably the USA, Canada and Australia, brewers have adapted European styles to such an extent that they have effectively created their own indigenous types.

Categorising by yeast
A common method of categorizing beer is by the behaviour of the yeast used in the fermentation process. In this method of categorizing, those beers which use a fast-acting yeast, which leaves behind residual sugars, are termed ales, while those beers which use a slower and longer acting yeast, which removes most of the sugars, leaving a clean and dry beer, are termed lagers.
Differences between some ales and lagers can be difficult to categorise.
Steam beer, Kölsch, Alt, and some modern British Golden Summer Beers use elements of both lager and ale production. Baltic Porter and Bière de Garde may be produced by either lager or ale methods or a combination of both. However, lager production results in a cleaner tasting, dryer and lighter beer than ale.

Cask ales
A modern
ale is commonly defined by the strain of yeast used and the fermenting temperature.
Ales are normally brewed with
top-fermenting yeasts (most commonly Saccharomyces cerevisiae) , though a number of British brewers, including Fullers and Weltons, use ale yeast strains that have less pronounced top-fermentation characteristics. The important distinction for ales is that they are fermented at higher temperatures and thus ferment more quickly than lagers.
Ale is typically fermented at temperatures between 15 and 24
°C (60 and 75 °F). At these temperatures, yeast produces significant amounts of esters and other secondary flavour and aroma products, and the result is often a beer with slightly "fruity" compounds resembling apple, pear, pineapple, banana, plum, or prune, among others. Typical ales have a sweeter, fuller body than lagers.

Lager
Lager is the English name for bottom-fermenting beers of Central European origin. They are the most commonly consumed beers in the world. The name comes from the German lagern ("to store"). Lagers originated from European brewers storing beer in cool cellars and caves and noticing that the beers continued to ferment, and also to clear of sediment. Lager yeast is a bottom-fermenting yeast (e.g., Saccharomyces pastorianus), and typically undergoes primary fermentation at 7–12 °C (45–55 °F) (the "fermentation phase"), and then is given a long secondary fermentation at 0–4 °C (32–40 °F) (the "lagering phase"). During the secondary stage, the lager clears and mellows. The cooler conditions also inhibit the natural production of esters and other byproducts, resulting in a "crisper" tasting beer.
Modern methods of producing lager were pioneered by
Gabriel Sedlmayr the Younger, who perfected dark brown lagers at the Spaten Brewery in Bavaria, and Anton Dreher, who began brewing a lager, probably of amber-red colour, in Vienna in 1840–1841. With improved modern yeast strains, most lager breweries use only short periods of cold storage, typically 1–3 weeks.

Lambic beers: spontaneous fermentation
Lambic beers, a speciality of
Belgian beers, use wild yeasts, rather than cultivated ones. Many of these are not strains of brewer's yeast (Saccharomyces cerevisiae), and may have significant differences in aroma and sourness. Yeast varieties such as Brettanomyces bruxellensis and Brettanomyces lambicus are quite common in lambics. In addition, other organisms such as Lactobacillus bacteria produce acids which contribute to the sourness.

Pale and dark beer
The most common colour is a pale amber produced from using pale malts. Pale lager is a term used for beers made from
malt dried with coke. Coke had been first used for roasting malt in 1642, but it wasn't until around 1703 that the term pale ale was first used.
In terms of sales volume, most of today's beer is based on the
pale lager brewed in 1842 in the town of Pilsen, in the Czech Republic. The modern pale lager is light in colour with a noticeable carbonation, and a typical alcohol by volume content of around 5%. The Pilsner Urquell, Bitburger, and Heineken brands of beer are typical examples of pale lager, as are the American brands Budweiser, Coors, and Miller.
Dark beers are usually brewed from a pale malt or lager malt base with a small proportion of darker malt added to achieve the desired shade. Other colourants — such as caramel — are also widely used to darken beers. Very dark beers, such as
stout use dark or patent malts that have been roasted longer. Guinness and similar beers include roasted unmalted barley.