It's a good thing you never had the chance to debate James Baldwin.

He'd own you. He'd own me. Because he owned everyone when it came to debates.

As it is the 93rd anniversary of James Baldwin's birth, here is possibly his most famous debate. It occurred in 1965 at Cambridge University with noted conservative William F. Buckley as the opposition. The debate centered on one question: "Is the American Dream at the expense of the American Negro?"

Simply said, Buckley had his share of victories in life, but the day he met Baldwin was not one of them.





The debate is an hour long, so odds are you won't watch it all in this modern day age of quick cuts and short attention spans. If needed, jump ahead and listen to any portion of Baldwin's eloquence, his patience, his ability to craft empathy out of knowledge.

Then click to 45:54 of the video and witness Baldwin's eyes lit afire, the gears turning internally while listening to Buckley's sanctimonious argument in a slick, syrupy, southern drawl.

After 325-years, the site of the Salem witch trial hangings has a memorial marker.

The original memorial, with a bench for each victim.

For most of those 325-years, residents of Salem, MA, always went to a spot in town called Gallows Hill to commemorate the hangings. "Gallows" alone suggests hangings after all. In 1992, even famed Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel spoke at the original Salem witch trial memorial dedication during the 300th anniversary. Yet, in the years since, new research has found that the nearby Proctor's Ledge was the actual site of the mass hangings.

The reason? According to The Smithsonian, after hanging and death, the bodies were thrown down below the ledge into "the crevice," a spot where families of the deceased could gather the body late at night and bury it privately. Based on historical records, Proctor's Ledge would be used to coincide with "the crevice."

Proctor's Ledge is named after one of the families affected by the witch trials. John Proctor was one of the 19 hanged, as he was a vocal critic of the hysteria at a time when it was best to keep quiet and maintain a low profile. Years later, his grandson bought the property where the hangings occurred, and it was named after the family.

The Proctors were such a key component to the entire debacle, they featured mightily in Arthur Miller's version of events when he wrote his famed play The Crucible about the trials. Three-time Oscar winner Daniel Day-Lewis, known to be highly choosy on roles he'd accept, found so much value in the trials, and specifically John Proctor, that he played the man in the most recent film adaptation of Miller's work.

On July 19th, Salem's mayor, Kimberley Driscoll, will dedicate a memorial at "the crevice" to commemorate the deaths that happened at Proctor's Ledge. The date aligns with the hangings of the first five victims, Sarah Good, Elizabeth Howe, Susannah Martin, Rebecca Nurse, and Sarah Wildes, who died July 19, 1692.

Proctor himself wouldn't be killed until a month later on August 19th.

Humans have decorated eggs for thousands of years. Just...because.

It's not just your average patron at Denny's or chicken farmers who love a good egg, as humanity has always been fascinated with them. Therefore, since it's Easter, we might as well dive into why Easter eggs exist, and why there's a bunny going around with them in a basket.


Easter Eggs:

For some unfathomable reason, humans have always taken to decorating eggs. Long before Christianity, Islam, or Judaism existed, evidence shows humans decorated ostrich eggs 60,000 years ago in parts of Africa. The Sumerians and Egyptians maintained the tradition thousands of years before Moses or Jesus arrived on the scene, and those civilizations often placed decorated eggs in graves, too.

(((shrugs))) People have been buried with weirder things.

Let's assume the Sumerians' eggs looked slightly different.

It's largely a portrayal and symbolism of vitality and birth that captivated people. This fascination with eggs continued with Christianity after the death of Jesus, as followers began dyeing eggs red as a representation of Christ's blood at his crucifixion and sacrifice for all to have eternal life.

Bloody eggs commemorating murder? Gather 'round the kids! I know I'll never look at one of those PAAS Easter egg kits the same way again.

All the allure of a crucifixion!

Likewise, for centuries eggs were banned to be eaten during the forty days of Lent leading up Easter, part of a slew of foods and drink to instill a fast. Since chickens are uncooperative rebels and still have eggs nonstop, there was always a surplus of eggs to consume by the time Easter arrived, where feasts on hoarded eggs occurred so food didn't spoil.

The Western Christian denominations rescinded the ban long ago, so your Sunday morning omelette is still safe. Eastern Orthodox churches still maintain the ban, though. This might explain why you can find a Denny's in Japan, Qatar, and the United Arab Emirates, but nowhere Eastern Orthodox churches are popular.

Not popular around the Eastern Orthodox folks.

Many have tried to symbolize the egg in a Christian vein (despite egg popularity pre-dating Christianity by 58,000 years), suggesting the egg represents the tomb Christ's body was placed in, or, again, the potential for rebirth and eternal life. Alas, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John in the Bible never jotted that egg nugget down, so take it with a grain of salt.


Easter Bunny:

Short and simple, it was the Germans who popularized the Easter Bunny myth. Since none of this egg history really makes sense, let's invite the Germans to this international party to confuse it more.

Germany has always had a distinguished history with folktales, and the appearance of rabbits or hares in those tales frequently occurred. Stories about the animals were passed down through generations, often with allusions to their--(((ahem)))--procreation abilities.

As with all things related to spring, rabbits' sexual proclivities symbolized rebirth in Northern Christian churches, so much so that the "three hares" symbol became popular as a design accent on medieval churches. With Easter occurring only in the springtime, the combination of rabbits to the holiday was a simple addition for German folklorists.

None of this creepy old greeting card should make a lick of sense to you.

Tales of the Easter Bunny were passed down through the oral tradition before German physician and botanist Georg Franck von Franckenau wrote about the tale of a hare in his 1682 work De ovis paschalibus, which was the first written mention of the Easter Bunny.

German Lutherans popularized the Easter Bunny myth as a teaching tool to children, suggesting the rabbit would come on Easter to judge children on whether they deserved to be given the ever-coveted eggs. Yes, it's just like you always thought. The Easter Bunny really is just a springtime version of Santa Claus.

It's good to be number one.

The Pennsylvania Dutch Protestants and emigrating Germans to America brought this fable of the Easter Bunny with them, calling it "Osterhase" or "Easter Hare," and American commercialization and affinity for soft, fluffy looking animals took right on over from there.


Conclusion:

None of this explains or defends the cheap plastic grass in those Easter baskets or these guys:

The Weird History of College Mascots, No. 1: Tufts University, P.T. Barnum, and Jumbo the Elephant

Some colleges have perfectly boring mascots with no history outside a public relations-approved cartoon character. Other colleges have histories--often weird--behind their mascots. This is where we recount the oddities.

Today:  Tufts University and the circus

On one side we have a fledgling Tufts University prior to its 1852 opening looking to add individuals to its Board of Trustees.

On the other side we have P.T. Barnum, one half of the famed Barnum & Bailey Circus, who was looking to be philanthropic.

Here the two shall meet.

P.T. Barnum looking for another sucker.

Tufts was looking to add board members, and turned to the wealthy and famed showman to help prop up their institution. Barnum didn't want to leave a legacy of simply being an entertainer, so he happily obliged, donating $50,000 (more than $2,000,000 in today's money) to the school to have a museum and hall for the Department of Natural History.

Meanwhile, in 1860, purportedly on Christmas day in what would be modern-day Sudan, an elephant was born. After its mother was killed by hunters, the elephant was sold to an Italian animal dealer. The young elephant made its way to Trieste, Italy, then stops in Germany and a French zoo, before landing at the London Zoo in England.

It was at the London Zoo that the elephant gave visitors rides, mainly children. Seeing how smart, docile, yet large, the elephant was, the keeper, Anoshan Anathajeyasri, gave the elephant the name Jumbo. The name potentially has roots in Swahili, maybe "jumbe," which means "chief."

In 1881, Barnum & Bailey Circus purchased Jumbo from the zoo for a then-$10,000. So distraught were the children of London at the thought of losing Jumbo, Queen Victoria received over 100,000 letters asking for her to intercede.

She did not. Jumbo headed to America.

Jumbo late in life.

For the next four years, P.T. Barnum showcased Jumbo in order to make his investment money back. Jumbo (and other elephants) were paraded over the newly opened Brooklyn Bridge to show it was strong enough. Jumbo also was featured at Madison Square Garden. People flocked to see the famed "biggest elephant in the world."

In the end, Jumbo's time in America was short-lived, even if his history has been long-lasting. On tour with the circus in St. Thomas, Ontario, in 1885, while moving the elephants across a rail yard, Jumbo died. The reasons are varied and vague, filled with as many facts as there is dramatic fiction. Most sources agree Jumbo tripped crossing some tracks, and probably impaled himself on his tusk, killing himself instantly. To further compound his death, a locomotive came down the track and couldn't stop in time, hitting his seemingly lifeless body.

The scourge that is rail yards strikes again.

The romanticized version of the story is that a small elephant named Tom Thumb was lingering on the tracks. Jumbo, being the bright animal he was, hustled to push Tom Thumb out of the way as the locomotive burned down the track, and that Jumbo tripped in front of the train saving the smaller elephant. Is there any validity to the story? It was 1885 after all, and P.T. Barnum was involved. Barnum always loved a good story.

To benefit a bit more by Jumbo's death, Barnum had the elephant's corpse separated. In time, the skeleton ended up at New York City's American Museum of Natural History, while the heart went to Cornell University. The hide was stretched and stuffed to try and mimic the original Jumbo, and it was donated to Tufts University.

Stuffed Jumbo years before the fire.

A fire at Tufts in 1975 destroyed the hide, but they had already adopted Jumbo as their mascot by then. Ashes believed to be the hide of Jumbo were placed into a peanut butter jar, where they remain today in the athletic director's office. Only a piece of Jumbo's tail, which was taxidermied when Barnum separated Jumbo, remains in a display case at Tufts.

Today, Barnum Hall still exists on campus, while a monument of Jumbo was erected at the St. Thomas, Ontario, rail yard in 2006, 121-years after his death. New York City's American Museum of Natural History maintains Jumbo's skeleton to this day as well, a donation from Barnum they have never parted with.

And Tufts University has fully embraced the image of an elephant, of Jumbo, as their mascot.

Tufts University campus today.

It is not the most common of mascots to be had for a modern day university, but the common denominator is Jumbo's impact. The bright, docile, fantastically large animal that made children beg a queen, that drew crowds around the world, that made a wealthy P.T. Barnum even wealthier--the giant that spent its life in captivity--remains in the consciousness of those his path crossed 132-years later.

If anything should be a mascot, if anything should represent a school, it should have meaning. And few mascots have the meaning quite like Jumbo the elephant.