Friday, July 20, 2018

Will Detroit Rise Again

Detroit - The Renaissance of America | Explore Films

Explore Documentary Films Apr 28, 2015  20 min. 29 sec.
Welcome to 21st century Detroit. The once-thriving automobile industry has taken a major blow, poverty is rampant, and major swaths of the city are deserted. But will grassroots art and culture lead Detroit's renaissance? Join host Charles Annenberg Weingarten for a street-level look at Detroit's rebirth.
 
 

Slam City

ABANDONED city in America with NO LAWS | Yes Theory

Yes Theory Jun 8, 2017 10 min. 18 sec.

FOLLOW US ON INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/yestheory/ A few months ago we went to visit the incredible abandoned city called Slab City. It used to be a military base but hundreds of squatters came and made it their home. We went with our friend Justin Escalona and truly had a fascinating experience. We thought the place would be hostile and dangerous when in fact it was inviting and beautiful (in it's own way). Shout-outs to all the description readers out there you know we love you :)
 

Living Without Laws: Slab City, USA

VICE May 15, 2012  20 min. 44 sec.

This bizarre, lawless land in the California desert is inhabited by drug addicts, eccentrics, army vets, hippies and just plain old weirdos. Slab City is referred to by its residents as "the last free place in America." Hosted by Ernie Quintero | Originally released in 2010 at http://vice.com
 

Thursday, July 19, 2018

This Story Will Improve Your Day

Black Guy Stopped By The Cops – You Will Never Believe What Happened

The Young Turks Jul 18, 2018 10 min. 50 min.

This is just a great story all around. Cenk Uygur and Ana Kasparian, hosts of The Young Turks, break it down. Watch The Young Turks YouTube TV NOW:

Sherry Wine & Macallan Whiskey

How Sherry Became the Secret to Great Scotch

Scottish and Spanish spirits have a symbiotic relationship.
Sherry has been crucial to scotch-making for centuries.
Sherry has been crucial to scotch-making for centuries. All photos by Alec Jacobson for The Macallan
Williams & Humbert, the cathedral-esque sherry bodega located in Jerez de la Frontera, Spain, brims with sepia-toned bullfighting posters, creaky Castilian furniture, and cobwebbed oak barrels. 

Sometimes, it even hosts Andalusian horse dancing set to the strums of flamenco guitar. But venture just beyond its stately main hall, and you could be in the Scottish Highlands: There, barrels branded with “The Macallan” stretch as far as the eye can see.

To most people who visit the Sherry Triangle—the wine region of southwest Spain bounded by Jerez de la Frontera, Sanlúcar de Barrameda, and Puerto de Santamaría—such a sight can be disorienting. But for centuries, the scotch and sherry industries have enjoyed a deep-rooted symbiosis that has kept both afloat through the ages, despite consumer taste varying wildly.

This relationship has its roots in 1587, when English privateer Sir Francis Drake paraded into Britain with 2,900 casks of sherry. They* were the spoils of his assault on the city of Cádiz, known as “Singeing of the King of Spain’s Beard.” The kidnapped wine was a sensation among the elite and sparked a sherry craze in Britain—and by affiliation, Scotland—that lasted centuries. Shakespeare, an avid sherry drinker, mentioned it at least 40 times in his works, and famously writes in Henry IV that a good sherry “makes the brain sharp, quick, and inventive; full of nimble, fiery, and beautiful ideas. The voice and tongue give birth to those ideas which, when they grow up, become excellent wit.”

Over time, this unslakable thirst for sherry left a surplus of empty barrels rolling around the British Isles. So it was only a matter of time before the Scots started storing their local moonshine, a clear distillate called uisge beatha (“water of life”), inside them. “Around 1800, distillers in Scotland realized that putting this clear spirit in a barrel not only made financial sense, but also made the liquid look and taste better,” says Mark Gillespie, founder of the WhiskyCast podcast.

It’s hard to overstate the importance of this development. Stuart MacPherson, Master of Wood at The Macallan, calls wood the “singular most important factor in creating a whisky’s character, since up to 80 percent of its final flavor comes from the cask.” (As evidenced by his title, MacPherson’s work involves sourcing timber from forests on two continents, overseeing barrel production in Spain, and transporting the seasoned casks to Scotland.)

That, along with the 1831 invention of the column still (which allowed for continuous distillation), paired with a newfound demand from France in the 1880s (due to a phylloxera outbreak that had devastated French brandy production), cemented scotch whisky’s place in the European market. By 1900, the scotch industry was booming. Across Scotland, warehouses were stacked floor to ceiling, all of them with sherry barrels filled with whisky.
Sherry barrels give scotch a distinctive taste.
Sherry barrels give scotch a distinctive taste.
Apart from a hiccup in production during World War II, scotch continued to see rising popularity, especially in the United States following Prohibition. But by the 1950s and ‘60s, a period many consider to be the “Golden Age” of scotch, the industry was changing. Newly-enacted “Standards of Identity” laws in the U.S. mandated that all bourbon be aged in new oak, which created a sudden glut of American oak barrels that scotch whisky houses could buy up at a fraction of the price of sherry barrels. “Whatever was cheapest, that’s what the distilleries purchased,” says Gillespie.

The nail in the coffin for the sherry cask came in 1981, when the Spanish government began requiring that all sherry be bottled in Spain prior to export. Any sherry casks that were sold to whisky makers in Scotland had to be shipped dry, which made the wood more prone to taint and cracking. Worse, sherry was already in dire straits back in Spain: Downward-spiraling prices, a sector-wide drop in quality, and evolving consumer tastes meant people weren’t buying sherry like they used to. Hardly anybody—neither bodegas (wine cellars) nor the whisky makers—was investing in new sherry casks, and Jerez’s cooperages came to a virtual standstill.

The gradual switch from sherry to bourbon barrels would have profound, lasting effects on the profile of scotch. “The signature flavors in a sherry cask-matured scotch are golden raisins, prunes, incense, and clove, while American oak tends to impart vanilla, coconut, sweet spice, and caramel,” says Dave Broom, spirits writer and author of The World Atlas of Whisky. “They’re completely different styles.”

Many whisky makers embraced the trend. In the 1970s and ‘80s, as spirits such as vodka and white rum became more and more fashionable (especially in the U.S.), the scotch industry was keen to experiment with lighter styles. American oak-matured whisky fit that bill. “Because scotch is driven by blends, blenders were able to slowly and subtly shift the profile of their spirit to suit this new palate,” Broom says. Most scotch drinkers didn’t even notice.

Yet in the sea change away from old sherry barrels, a few manufacturers dug in their heels—in sometimes questionable ways—to preserve scotch’s time-honored sherry flavor. For instance, from the 1960s through the 1980s, there was widespread use of a syrupy, boiled-down sherry product known as paxarette. “In those days, if you had an old, tired cask, you’d slop in some pax, roll it around, and it’d taste like sherry again,” says Broom, adding that the substance was outlawed in scotch production in 1989.

Shrewd distilleries such as The Macallan foresaw sherry’s demise and started dabbling in the art of vertical integration. If the bodegas could no longer provide quality casks, then it was time to do direct business with the cooperages and bodegas in Jerez. As early as the 1950s, The Macallan began snapping up new barrels and paying wineries in the area to “season” them with sherry before shipping them (empty, of course) to Scotland.
The entrance to The Macallan.
The entrance to The Macallan.
It paid off: Today, the scale of The Macallan’s operation is almost unfathomable. “There are four cooperages in Jerez, and we work with three of them,” says MacPherson. “Eighty-five percent of their barrels go to Edrington,” Macallan’s parent company, “and most of those go to The Macallan.” Around 70,000 new sherry-filled casks bearing The Macallan’s logo are marinating in Jerez as we speak. (The coopering exhibit at The Macallan’s new $189 million visitor center sheds light on this little-known process.)

Jerez’s bodegas and cooperages are bustling again, thanks, in large part, to heavy investments by the scotch industry. Williams & Humbert, one of The Macallan’s partner bodegas, has seen an uptick in sales after years of decline, and they have the capital to experiment with new products again. Their organic fino, released in July, is a first in the industry. “Sherry is back in style,” says Rafael Medina Martínez, director of operations.

In the same vein, Lustau broadened its repertoire in 2017 to include a new sherry-based vermouth, and some Tío Pepe bottles just got a pop-art makeover inspired by Andy Warhol. These developments hint that the centuries-old sherry houses are nimble enough to capitalize on the worldwide sherry craze.

According to the Regulatory Council of Sherry Wines, offbeat sherry types such as amontillado, oloroso, and palo cortado saw a seven percent increase in sales in 2017, while premium sherries saw a two percent increase. (Considering that the sherry market was in virtual freefall until recently, these seemingly minor gains are significant).
A process involving "charring" sherry casks brings out their flavors.
A process involving “charring” sherry casks brings out their flavors.
Nearly a third of the 60,000 barrels at Williams & Humbert are dedicated solely to The Macallan. But with the price of a single seasoned sherry cask hovering around $1,300—astronomically more expensive than ex-Bourbon casks, according to MacPherson—it all begs the question: Is scotch aged in sherry-seasoned wood inherently better than the stuff matured in American whiskey barrels?

“It comes down to individual taste,” says Gillespie. “There are people who hate the heavy, tannic notes of sherry-cask whiskies and people who love them. Sometimes the best whiskies result when you blend both types.” Broom goes as far as to say that the use of sherry casks is “not a prerequisite for quality” in scotch, adding that many of the sherry-aged whiskies on the market are aged in wood so old that the influence of sherry is basically nil.

Does sherry have a place in the 21st century? That question dogged Chris Hoban, the brand ambassador of Isle of Raasay, a new whisky company that began distilling in September. “The spirit we’re aiming to produce is on the lighter side, but … I’m interested in emulating whiskies from the past in addition to creating new whiskies for the future.” To many young up-and-comers such as Hoban, scotch isn’t just about flavor profiles, it’s also about heritage. He’s taking his first recon trip to Jerez in September.

Whether you’re a world-renowned name like The Macallan or a newcomer like Isle of Raasay, in the world of scotch and sherry, you always have to have one foot in the past and the other in the future. The tables could very well turn in sherry’s favor once again (hey, things do look promising). Citing a conversation with the people at The Glenlivet when they were adding a new wing to their operation, Hoban says: “They were making decisions based on a 100-year forecast. One hundred years. There aren’t many industries that have to think that far ahead.”

Why Ospreys Take "Separate Vacations"

The Wildlifewriter   Paul Wildlifewriter  8 July 2017

Instrumental Solo

“Why don't ospreys migrate together as a family unit?” It has almost assumed the status of Frequently Asked Question, and the answer is simple... 

It's because they're ospreys...



Some other species of birds, for example geese and wild swans, do exactly this: they travel from their breeding sites in family groups, with the adults escorting their offspring to the wintering grounds, hundreds or even thousands of miles distant. Without this guidance, the fledglings would never know where to go. But in evolutionary terms, the logistics of this have a very specific result: in a given population and after only a few generations, all the birds end up wintering in the same place! For grazing birds, this is a perfect survival strategy. They assemble in a huge flock, food is not a problem, (grass doesn't run away or hide) and there is safety in numbers with many eyes watching for danger.

But for ospreys and other species that hunt a limited resource, this system won't do at all. They are apex predators, not flocking geese...

A thousand ospreys arriving on a single African lake would exploit the local fish supply at an unsustainable rate. To solve this problem, evolution has arranged matters so that young ospreys have to find their own way in Autumn. They are born with all the navigational instincts needed to do this, but built into those same instincts is sufficient positional uncertainty to ensure that the young birds are dispersed over a wide wintering area. 


This random end-point factor (referred to by scientists as a “stochastic element”) is one of the hidden secrets of osprey migration and is instrumental in forming many aspects of their post-juvenile behaviour.. It has evolved because a general dispersal in winter quarters gives the incoming youngsters a slightly better chance of survival as individuals. 


But where does this "randomness" in the selection of a final destination come from?  That's a whole other story and really needs an article all of its own.

Trump Tromps Wildlife

Endangered Species Act stripped of key provisions in Trump administration proposal

 

The Trump administration unveiled a proposal Thursday that would strip the Endangered Species Act of key provisions, a move that conservationists say will weaken a law enacted 45 years ago to keep plants and animals in decline from going extinct.

The proposal, announced jointly by the Interior and Commerce departments, which are charged with protecting endangered wildlife, would end the practice of extending similar protections to species regardless of whether they are listed as endangered or threatened. If the proposal is approved, likely by year’s end, protections for threatened plants and animals would be made on a case-by-case basis.
In another rollback of a key provision, the administration wants the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration to strike language that guides officials to ignore economic impacts when determining how wildlife should be protected.

“We propose to remove the phrase, ‘without reference to possible economic or other impacts of such determination,’… to more closely align with the statutory language,” the proposed rule said. “The act requires the secretary to make determinations based ‘solely on the basis of the best scientific and commercial data.'”

Conservationists who worried about the changes, expected for months, said their fears were realized. “These regulations are the heart of how the Endangered Species Act is implemented. Imperiled species depend on them for their very lives,” said Jamie Rappaport Clark, a former director of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service who is now president and chief executive of Defenders of Wildlife, a non-profit advocacy group.

“Unfortunately, the sweeping changes being proposed by the Trump administration include provisions that would undercut the effectiveness of the ESA and put species at risk of extinction,” Clark said. “The signal being sent by the Trump administration is clear: Protecting America’s wildlife and wild lands is simply not on their agenda.”

Darryl Fears Darryl Fears is a reporter on the national staff who covers the Interior Department, issues affecting wildlife and the Chesapeake Bay watershed.

The Slow Route Is Available Again

California Today: Highway 1 Reopens, a Year After the Mud Creek Landslide

Motorists can now access the portion of Highway 1 that was closed after a landslide in May 2017.CreditJim Wilson/The New York Times

It stretches more than 650 miles, from south of Los Angeles to north of San Francisco, through Big Sur and across the Golden Gate Bridge, and knits together all that encapsulates California in the national imagination: the Pacific Coast, the redwood forests, the automobile.

For the first time in more than a year, California’s Highway 1 — more commonly called the Pacific Coast Highway — is open without interruption, after a chunk of it was wiped away in a massive landslide last year.

In a morning fog on Wednesday — at 9:45 a.m. to be precise, according to a tweet by the California Department of Public Transportation — the piece of the road at Mud Creek, south of the Big Sur region, that had cut off so many travelers, was reopened.

The most famous California road trip was back on.

“It’s a combination of relief and celebration,” said Kirk Gafill, who owns a restaurant in Big Sur called Nepenthe.

Mr. Gafill said the reopening of the highway marked the end of a two-year struggle against Mother Nature that had disrupted tourism, beginning with the Soberanes Fire, a large wildfire near Big Sur that burned more than 130,000 acres in 2016.

Like other business owners in the region, Mr. Gafill had seen a sharp fall in visitors. Businesses in the area like his, he said, had lost anywhere between 15 percent to 40 percent of revenue because of the Mud Creek landslide. Hotels and inns lost more because fewer visitors from Southern California were coming and staying overnight. Visitors from the south could still get to Big Sur through a treacherous detour inland that involved steep cliffs and hairpin turns, but many stayed away.

Visitors from the north still came, he said, but they were more likely to visit just for the day.

The first pieces of the Pacific Coast Highway opened in the 1920s as part of what was then known as the Roosevelt Highway, according to KCET. Later, the route became entwined with the lore of California, where the western edge of the United States met the Pacific Ocean, and where the freedom of the road met dazzling natural beauty.

Over the years, and not infrequently, landslides have taken out portions of the highway. But none were as big as the one in May 2017, when some 6 million cubic yards of earth moved after torrential rainfalls, adding 15 acres of coastline, according to Susana Cruz, a spokeswoman for Caltrans. Before that, the largest landslide had been in 1983, farther north at Pfieffer Burns State Park.

There is no shortage of travel literature about a road trip up or down the Pacific Coast Highway. In the spirit of the highway’s reopening, here a few offerings from The New York Times, Vogue, National Geographic and Smithsonian.