How to Build a 20-Foot Functional Geodesic Dome Out of PVC

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How to Build a 20-Foot 

Functional Geodesic Dome 

Out of PVC

Build an inexpensive and sturdy-as-heck structure with 150 pieces of PVC pipe and a weekend.

The idea of building our own shelter fascinates us, but for the average handyman, where do you start?

40 Foot Geodesic Dome Looks Amazing Lit Up

SketchUp 101

PVC Pipe Instrument

A geodesic dome made of PVC may be the most cost-effective method of building a structurally solid yet transportable shelter, and it’s possible to build one in a single day.

At Maker Faire 2014 in New York City, the Sketchup team did just that. Why? We wanted something that was easy and fun to assemble, but it also needed to be impressive, yet duplicable by anyone with just basic tools. While this structure may look daunting to build, you could actually do it in your garage on a Saturday afternoon.

We’ll show you how we built ours, and how you can use Sketchup to easily design and build your own, of any size.

To begin, you can see our Maker Faire domes in action here and in the video below

The History of the Geodesic Dome

Let’s get something out of the way: our team didn’t invent geodomes; Buckminster “Bucky” Fuller did. Let’s learn a little about him, courtesy of the Bucky Fuller Institute.

R. Buckminster Fuller was a renowned 20th century inventor and visionary born in Milton, Massachusetts on July 12, 1895. Dedicating his life to making the world work for all of humanity, Fuller operated as a practical philosopher who demonstrated his ideas as inventions that he called “artifacts.”

Fuller did not limit himself to one field but worked as a ‘comprehensive anticipatory design scientist’ to solve global problems surrounding housing, shelter, transportation, education, energy, ecological destruction, and poverty. Throughout the course of his life, Fuller held 28 patents, authored 28 books, and received 47 honorary degrees. And while his most well known artifact, the geodesic dome, has been produced over 300,000 times worldwide, Fuller’s true impact on the world today can be found in his continued influence upon generations of designers, architects, scientists and artists working to create a more sustainable planet.

The Different Types of Geodesic Domes

Geodesic domes can be exceedingly detailed or incredibly simple. The varying levels of detail are called “tessellations” The more tessellations you have, the smoother your dome is.

Some of the more commonly built domes are 3V to 6V domes. A 3V dome has three different strut lengths—as you go up in detail, you decrease the strut length, and increase the number of struts. The smoother your dome is, the more hubs and struts you need. These images below (from SonostarHub.com) show a map of what half of a dome looks like in each tessellation.

3V Dome

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Your first decision to make is the size of your dome. At Maker Faire, we were limited to a confined space that we were allowed to use.

SketchUp can help you visualize things like this very easily. For that, you’d want to draw out your dome to see how it would fit. To quickly resize the dome, we built a Dynamic Component. These types of components can be programmed to redraw themselves. We set ours up so that we could type in different diameters of domes. Our component automatically calculates how much pipe you will need for whatever size and detail of dome you choose.

You can download a model of our dome to use within the free Sketchup software.

Once you have the model downloaded, right click on it (or secondary click if you’re on a Mac) and select “Dynamic Components” and then “Options.”

You will be presented with a menu that looks like the image below. There, you can change the diameter of the dome. Press “Apply” at the bottom and your dome will automatically rebuild itself to the size you want. You’ll get a parts list, as well (more on the parts list later).

We used this model to place our domes on the site. After much discussion, we decided on the dual 20′ dome setup you see below:

You can download our as-built model if you want to check it out in SketchUp.

Putting Together Your Materials List

Geodesic domes can be made out of all sorts of materials, from a stack of toothpicks on your desk to a big metal building. No matter what you make your dome out of, you need to calculate the amount of hubs you need, and the length of all of your struts.

You want to make sure that you get this right, because the cost of a mistake would mean a very expensive pile of PVC that would quickly become useless.

Indulge me while I quickly explain the theory behind the different ways you can calculate struts, and then I’ll point you to some good calculators.

This article from Berkley explains, in great detail, the math behind these domes. The formulae show you how to calculate a wire mesh dome. In other words, these math formulas will tell you the total distance of each strut.

This is a good starting point, but if you’re making or buying your own hubs, you’ll need to subtract for their length where they connect.

If you know the amount you need to subtract for each hub, you can put that into our Dynamic Component above. In the case of the hubs we used from SonoStarHub.com, they have their own calculator on their site that works fantastic.

Getting the Right Hubs

Hubs connect all of the struts together to form the structure. These aren’t something you can get off the shelf at your local hardware store. We explored ways to fabricate our own (there are many) but we ultimately went with a company called SonoStarHub.com for our hubs. It saved time, and guaranteed safety in our exhibit. Sonostar makes and sells the hubs, bolts, and complete kits if you want them.

The hubs we chose are designed to work with 1.5″ Schedule 40 PVC pipe. This is off the shelf stuff that can be sourced from any Home Depot. The size refers to the inside diameter. Our pipe was actually 1.9″ in its outer diameter. Take a look at Home Depot’s selection of PVC pipes to start your supply list.

For our dome, we used 15 base hubs (these have 4 ‘arms’ on them), 6 5-star hubs, and 55 6-star hubs.

Fabrication

Now that we’ve planned our dome size and we know how many pipes and the lengths we need to cut, it’s time to start fabricating. After heading to Home Depot and watching the jaws drop at the pro desk after I asked for over 150 10′ PVC pipes, I had to come up with a way to cut tons of pipe at exactly the same length.

Normally, I use my chop saw and I mark off lengths of things to cut, but that would be inefficient for this amount of pipes. For this task, I used a chop saw stand with stops on it. This way, I could set the length and repeat cuts over and over again. Make sure that when you get one that it has very sturdy stops on it.

The first stand I bought did not, and I had to return it in favor of one that wasn’t moving when I bumped it a little. Once you have this setup, measure from the saw blade to the stop and start cutting.

Now that you have a massive pile of pipes cut up (the image above is only for one dome), you’ll need to drill holes in each end so that you can bolt them to the hubs when you’re on site. The holes need to be lined up on each end.

To do that, I put the pipe against the stop, drilled the first hole, and then flipped the pipe over. Using the screw on the left, I was able to line up the first hole vertically so I could drill the second one.

Building Your Domes

Now you’ve got a huge pile of pipes, cut and labeled. This is where the fun begins! Let’s put this thing together.

Before we built both domes at Maker Faire, I built one with a helper on her front lawn just to make sure it worked. The two of us were able to build a 20′ dome in just a few hours, using a step ladder.

Below I’ll give you a solid overview of how we assembled it. For super detailed instructions, there is a download link at the end of this post that includes all the detailed build instructions, and all the models you’ll need in order to assemble what we built.

The first step is to lay out the base ring of pipes and bolt each connection together, using the 4-armed hubs. Don’t worry if the ground isn’t perfectly level. If there is a big drop off, just slide a chunk of wood or spare pipe underneath to jack the dome up (for now).

After laying out the base ring, start making pentagons. There will be 6 total. Fully assemble and bolt them together, and then set them aside.

Next, put the first round of base poles up, adding a 6-star hub every third set.

Now it’s time to start adding pentagons. Connect them with the remainder of the red pipes, and use the blue cross pipes to connect them together. Don’t forget to bolt as you go!

Keep filling in pipes around the pentagons.

Add the last pentagon at the very top, and savor the moment!

Now that you have the dome fully built, you can remove a section of 6-spoked (red) poles to create a door. If you need to move or turn the dome, it’s light enough that about six people can lift and easily move it.

That’s how you build and fabricate a PVC Geodesic Dome!

These are incredibly strong structures that are fun and rewarding to build. Here are the full instructions, including a printable assembly document, 3D models, pictures and video.

If you think you can do a better job than me, you’re welcome to contribute any work on GitHub.

School of Darkness by Bella V. Dodd on COMMUNISM IN AMERICA

School of Darkness by Bella V. Dodd

School of Darkness
by Bella V. Dodd, Ex-Communist

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

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CHAPTER ONE


I WAS BORN in southern Italy on a farm that had been in my mother’s family for generations.  But I was really an American born on Italian soil as the result of a series of accidents, and it was also an accident which kept me in Italy until I was almost six years old.  Not until years afterward did I learn that one reason my mother had left me there was in the hope that someday she could persuade her husband, in New York with her other children, to return with them to Italy.  To her that farm near Potenza was home.  But she was never able to persuade them of that, for America was the place of their choice.

My mother had been left a widow when the youngest of her nine children was still a baby.  With the help of the older children she ran the farm.  If Rocco Visono had not come to Potenza from his home in Lugano no doubt she would have remained there the rest of her life.

But Rocco fell in love with Teresa Marsica who, despite her nine children and a life of work, was still attractive, with bright, dark eyes and lively ways.  Rocco had come to visit a sister married to a petty government official and met Teresa in the nearby village of Picerno.  A stonemason by trade, he found work in Potenza while Teresa was making up her mind.  She was almost persuaded but hesitated when she learned that he planned to go to New York.  It took a long time to get her to agree to that.  She would look at her rich soil that grew good lettuce and beans.  This had been her father’s farm and her grandfather’s and his father’s.  How could she give it up and cross the Atlantic to uncertainty, and perhaps have no land there to cherish and work?

But the quiet, blue-eyed suitor was persistent.  The children were on his side, too, eager to go to America, for Rocco had told them glowing stories of the life there, of the freedom and the chance to get rich.  They argued and pleaded with their mother until she gave in.

The three oldest boys were to go with their father-elect, and my mother and the others were to join them later.  I say “elect” purposely, for Teresa, for reasons of her own, had insisted that she would not marry him until she arrived in America.  Having lost all the rest of the issues, he had to yield on this also, and the four left for the United States.

From East Harlem they sent enthusiastic reports.  There were many Italians living there;  it was like a colony of home people;  she must come quickly.  So Teresa accepted the inevitable.  She said good-by to her neighbors and her beloved fields, to the house that had sheltered her all her life and in which all her children had been born.  She put the farm in the charge of a relative for she could not bear to sell it.  She might come back someday.  With six children she sailed for the new home.

The three older boys and Rocco took her in triumph to their five-room flat on 108th Street.  Teresa was happy to see them again, but she looked with dismay at the honeycomb of rooms.  She was only partly comforted when her sister, Maria Antonia, who had been in America for some time, came to welcome her.

In January 1904 Rocco Visono and Teresa Marsica were married in the Church of St. Lucy in East Harlem.  It was perhaps on that day she felt most homesick of all, for a memory came to her when she heard the words of the priest — a recollection of the past, of Fidelia, her mother, and Severio, her father, and the farm workers and herself and her brothers and sisters, all kneeling together at family prayer in the big living room of the Picerno farmhouse.

Several months later a letter came from Italy telling Teresa that there was trouble with the management of her property.  At this news she persuaded Rocco that she must go back to adjust matters, perhaps rent the farm to responsible people, or even — this was his suggestion — sell it outright.

It was not until she was on the high seas that Teresa realized she was pregnant.  She was dismayed.  The business in Italy might take months and the baby might be born there.

The affairs of the farm took longer than she expected.  In October of 1904 I was born in Picerno and baptized Maria Assunta Isabella.  With my father’s approval Teresa decided to return to the United States and leave me in charge of a foster mother.  She hoped to return within a year, but it was five years before she saw me again.  I was almost six years old when I saw my father and brothers and sister for the first time.

The woman who became my foster mother and wet nurse was the wife of a shepherd in Avialano.  Her own baby had died and she was happy to have me.  For five years I lived with these simple people.  Though there was little luxury in the small stone house, I received loving care from both my foster parents.  I remember them and my memories go back to my third year.  Mamarella was a good woman and I was greatly devoted to her.  But it was to her husband, Taddeo, that my deepest love went.  There was no other child in the family and to me he gave all his parental affection.

I remember their home with the fireplace, the table drawn up before it for supper, I in Taddeo’s arms, his big shepherd’s coat around me.  In later days, when life was difficult, I often wished I were again the little child who sat there snug in the protecting love about her.

My mother sent money regularly, and gave my foster parents more comforts than the small wages of Taddeo would provide.  Time and again Mamarella tried to make of Taddeo something more than a hill shepherd.  She disliked his being away from home in the winter, but in that mountainous part of Italy it was cold in the winter;  so the sheep were driven to the warmer Apulia where the grazing was better.

Even in the summer Taddeo often stayed all night in the hills.  Then Mamarella and I went to him carrying food and blankets so that we, too, might sleep in the open.  While husband and wife talked, I would wander off for flowers and butterflies.  I remember running from one hilltop to another.  My eager fingers stretched upward, for the sky seemed so close I thought I could touch it.  I would come back tired to find Mamarella knitting and Taddeo whittling a new pair of wooden shoes for me.  Not until just before I left for America did I wear a pair of leather shoes.

Taddeo would give me warm milk from his sheep and try to explain to me about the sky.  Once he said: “Never mind, little one.  Perhaps someday you will touch the sky.  Perhaps!”

Then he would tell me stories about the stars, and I almost believed that they belonged to him and that he could move them in the heavens.  I would fall asleep wrapped in a blanket.  When I awoke I would find myself in my own bed back at our house on the edge of the village.

I have vague memories of the things of religion.  I remember being carried on Taddeo’s shoulders on a pilgrimage with many people walking through a deep forest several days and nights to some shrine.  It must have been spring for the woods were carpeted with violets.  I have never since seen blue wood violets without hearing in my mind the hum of prayers said together by many people.

One of the children told me about a place called purgatory.  She said that if you let the bishop put salt on your tongue and water on your forehead you got into heaven, and that if it were not done you stayed in purgatory for years and years.  I took this matter to Taddeo and for once he was not reassuring.  Purgatory was a gray place, he said, with no trees and no hills, but he said he would be there with me.

He talked to Mamarella, and she said though I was young she was going to have me confirmed because the bishop was coming to our town to perform the ceremony.  This called for great preparations.  I had a new red dress with a high neck made “princess style.” I was to have my first pair of leather shoes.

When the great day came I was at church early.  It was still almost empty save for the restless group of children awaiting confirmation.  The few seats in the big church were placed toward the altar.  You did not sit in these for they were for the gentry of the town.  Everyone else knelt on the stone floor.

I knelt, too, and looked around me at the statues.  I had a favorite among them: St. Anthony, with the tender smile and the Christ Child on his arm.  Taddeo told me that St. Anthony would watch over me and keep me from evil;  and that if I lost something St. Anthony would help find it.

One evening at supper we heard hurried footfalls and an excited voice calling:

“Una lettera d’America!”

“Maybe it’s from my mother,” I said, “and there will be money in it for Mamarella.”

When she opened it I saw only a very little letter and no money at all.  No one told me what the letter was about.  Weeks later I was alone in the house, close by the fire.  February was cold that year.  Taddeo was in Apulia and would not be back for some time.  Mamarella had gone to the village fountain for drinking water.

I heard strange steps on the cobblestones.  The door opened and there stood a tall, dark woman in a heavy coat who looked at me and without a word put her arms around me and hugged me.  Then she took off her veil and I saw she had thick black hair, a little gray, but soft and wavy.

I looked at her with amazement.  “Who are you?” I asked.  She answered me in Italian, but it sounded different from that of our village.  “I’m a friend of the people who live here.  Where is the shepherd?”

“He isn’t here.  He’s in Apulia.” “Do you like him?”

“I love him better than anyone in the world.  I love him all the time.” I stared at her and wondered why she should ask such questions.

“Of course you do,” she said soothingly.  “Come over here and sit on my lap while I tell you a story.  But first, do you love him better than your own mother?”

“Of course I do.  I don’t even know my own mother.” The strange lady smiled at me.  “Listen, dear, I had a little girl myself once.” As I listened I began to feel uneasy.  “I had to go away to a strange land where I couldn’t take care of her and so I found a good kind man who said he would.  His name was Taddeo.”

“Taddeo?” Suddenly I understood and slipped from the woman’s lap.  “You’re my real mother.”

She stroked my hair and said, “I have come all the way from America for my baby girl and I hoped she would love me.”

Something in her voice won me over.  I went to her and put my arms around her neck and so we sat until Mamarella came in.  I was half asleep and remembered only saying, “This is my mother, my real mother.  You have to love your mother.”

She went away again that evening, but she said she would be back in a week or else send for me.  She promised to take me with her to America.

Now all was feverish preparation.  Word was sent to Taddeo and he sent back word that he would be home before I left.  For me that last week was one of triumph among my playmates.

“Did she bring you presents?” the children asked.  “Will you go in the coach to Potenza?”

“The houses in America are made of glass,” said another child.  “No one is poor there.  Everyone is happy.”

“And they eat macaroni every day,” piped another.  This even I knew would be a wonderful thing, for to eat macaroni every day was the essence of plutocracy to children whose chief diet was beans and polenta.

“And will you come back?” someone asked.

Somehow this was the first time I had actually thought of going away and I felt a little shaken, but I answered boldly, “Of course I will, and someday I’ll take you all with me to America.”

No further word had come from Taddeo on the eve of my departure to join my mother.  Mamarella had prepared a wonderful supper of pasta arricata, and nuts and squids stuffed with raisins.  There was sweet white wine.  It was like carnevale.  We waited for Taddeo but when he did not come, we sat down and ate in silence.  Then we cleared the table.  I sat with my head against Mamarella’s chair.  She was crying, but she stopped when she saw that I was crying, too.  She took me in her arms and sang to me — a song about the saints.

Still Taddeo did not come.  I feared I would never see him again.  I tried to picture exactly how he had looked so I would always remember him.

When the fire was embers, Mamarella put ashes over it and we went to bed;  but I could not sleep.  Suddenly I heard what I had been listening for — heavy steps on the cobblestones.  When the door opened I was in his arms.  My feet were cold and he took off his muffler and wound it round them and rubbed them.

Mamarella came in and poked up the fire and said to me sharply, “Non far mosso,” and began warming polenta.  I sat still in his arms while Taddeo talked to us about his trip home.

“I traveled half the night and had no idea it would be so cold in Avialano,” he said.  He must get to the sheepfold in the valley right away, he said, for he had left the sheep in charge of Filippi.  He could stay only an hour with us.

“St. Anthony brought me,” he told me.  “He helped get me here in time.  Don’t ever forget he will help you get where you ought to go and find what you lose.”

I paid little attention to his words.  I was happy to sit by the fire and watch him eat polenta and dip bread into the red wine.

Then he rose, put on his long cloak, and tied the muffler around his neck.  “This muffler is too thin to be of much use any more.  Listen, child, will you send me a new one from America?”

My eyes filled with tears.  He kissed me.  “There, carina, someday you will come back,” he said reassuringly.  “And you are going now to a fine home where you will be una signorina and have silk dresses and maybe two pairs of leather shoes.”

“I don’t want to go,” I cried in panic.  “I won’t go! I wont!”

He held me until I stopped sobbing and then he said, “Now I must really go.Addio, carina,” and he handed me over to Mamarella and hurried from the house.  I struggled free and ran after him.  I had no shawl and my dress flew in the wind.  I kept calling, “Taddeo! Taddeo!” I ran down the street till I came to the piazza and I could see Taddeo and Filippi driving the sheep ahead of them.  It was bitter cold and the ground was icy.

I called Taddeo again and again.  I had put on my first pair of leather shoes to show to him and the untied laces made me stumble; the hard leather hurt my feet.  I lay in the snow and sobbed.  There Mamarella found me and took me home and put me between hot blankets.  She stayed with me until I fell asleep.

Next day I was dressed in my red confirmation dress which was to have been saved to wear on the feast of the Virgin and carnevale.  My hair was carefully combed.  The leather shoes were laced around my ankles.  Mamarella brought out her wedding box and drew from it a white silk kerchief.  “I wore it when I was a girl,” she said, as she folded it in a triangle and tied it under my chin.  Then we went to the coach which was waiting to take me away.  “Madonna, questa creatura e tutti occhi,” said the coachman when he saw his smaller passenger.  Mamarella and I sat in the coach in silence and watched the desolate mountain scenery and the snowdrifts banked along the road.  Finally, numb with cold, we reached the railroad station in Potenza.  Mamarella put me on the train and kissed me.  I could not cry for all the feeling was drained from me.  Then I was alone on a train with strangers and on my way to Naples where my mother was to meet me.

It was the first time I had ever been on a train but I did not find it strange.  I looked out of the window at the changing landscape.  After awhile there were no snow and no mountains, only grass and plains, with olive trees here and there.  Once I saw a flock of white sheep with a shepherd, and I thought of Taddeo.  But Taddeo was now far behind, and I was alone.  I had left everything I knew and was going into the unknown.

The compartment in which I rode was almost empty.  The conductor had promised Mamarella that he would take care of me.  Finally, as I sat on the wooden bench, I fell asleep, leaning against my bundle of clothes, exhausted by the strange movement of the train.

It was night when the train pulled into Naples.  The conductor came in and picked up my bundle.  “Viene subito,” he said, and I followed him to the platform.  And there was my mother looking anxiously for me.  She was tall and straight and reassuring.  I waved excitedly to her and it made me happy to see her warm smile as she ran toward me.

I was frightened by what I saw of Naples.  There were beggars whining and wheedling in the name of St. Rocco.  There were dirty children in the streets.  There was noise and confusion.  I wanted to fly back to our quiet little village, where the people were poor, but clean and proud.

I was glad when the next day we sailed for America.

NEXT

© 1954 by P.J. Kenedy & Sons, New York. Copyright transferred 1963 to Bella V. Dodd

What is Transhumanism?

What is Transhumanism?

Ebook can also be downloaded from this website

Mainstream Media as a Weapon of Social Engineering and War

 

Intercept Media

Published on May 14, 2015

Waldemar Perez spoke at Portland Community College, Sylvania Campus on May 10th, 2015.
Here is a link to the pdf of presentation with credited sources (and their links as well):
http://www.sweetremedy.tv/media/Main%...

Social Engineering 101

 

Corbett Report Extras

Published on Jan 24, 2016

SHOW NOTES and MP3: https://www.corbettreport.com/?p=4868

Your habits, your opinions, your thoughts and routines: what could be more personal than these? But what if your thoughts are not your own? Join us this week on The Corbett Report as we expose the social engineering agenda, from the bigger bigger picture to the nitty gritty detail.

HUMAN RESOURCES Social Engineering In The 20th Century HQ FULL

 

consciousnessofone

Uploaded on Apr 28, 2011

They allowed me to fill out the dispute form and get the audio restored finally on this NOW? hmmmm, could this have anything to do with the suicidal MAR 7th changes coming?
Watch this presentation while you can in case YT loses it's mind again and decides to unfairly censor this upload again.



I HAD PERMISSION TO UPLOAD THIS AND YOUTUBE KNOWS IT! PLEASE GO TO http://metanoia-films.org/ AND WATCH THIS IMPORTANT FILM THAT YOUTUBE DOES NOT WANT YOU TO SEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PLEASE RE-UPLOAD IT TO YOUR CHANNEL

Special thanks to Scott Noble of Metanoia Films for granting us permission to post his Amazing documentary on our YouTube Channel. We are looking forward to viewing your future projects Scott,God Bless.

http://metanoia-films.org/

Metanoia-

F r o m t h e G r e e k - to p e r c e i v e , t o t h i n k , t h e r e s u l t of p e r c e i v i n g o r o b s e r v i n g - m e t a n o i a m e a n s " a c h a n g e o f m i n d " .

In Theology, metanoia is used to refer to the change of
mind which is brought about in repentance.

The prefix "meta-" carries with it other variants that are
consistent with the Eastern Greek philosophical mindset,
"Meta-" is additionally used to imply "beyond" and "outside of."
E.g., metamorphosis as a beyond-change; and, metaphysics as
outside the limits of physics.

The Greek term for repentance, metanoia, denotes a change of mind, a
reorientation, a fundamental transformation of outlook, of an individual's vision of the world and of her/himself, and a new way of loving others and the Universe. In the words of a second-century text, The Shepherd of Hermas, it implies "great understanding," discernment.

In Carl Jung's psychology, metanoia indicates a spontaneous attempt of the psyche to heal itself of unbearable conflict by melting down and then being reborn in a more adaptive form.


SOURCES: Anarcho -- Anti-Capitalism or State Capitalism? Beissinger, Mark R. -- Scientific Management, socialist discipline and Soviet power Chang, Iris -- the Rape of Nanking Cockburn, Alex and St. Claire, Jeffrey -- Whiteout: The CIA, drugs and the press Gatto, John Taylor -- The Underground History of American Education; Dumbing Us Down Goliszek, Andrew -- In the name of science Klein, Naomi -- The Shock Doctrine Kohn, Alfie -- What does it mean to be well-educated?; No contest: the case against competition Lemov, Rebecca -- World as Laboratory: Experiments with mice, mazes and men Noble, David -- Forces of Production: a social history of industrial automation Ritzer, George -- The McDonaldization of Society Shepherd, Harold & Herrick, Neil -- Where Have All the Robots Gone? Smith, Sharon -- Subterranean Fire: A History of working class radicalism Szulc, Tad -- The CIA's Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test



ACCLAIMED:

"A viscerally overpowering film and at the same time a thoughtful meditation on the human condition."

- Walter A. Davis, Professor Emeritus, Ohio State University


"Brilliant...Riveting...The amount of material the filmmaker covers and unifies is astounding...
Human Resources diagnoses the 20th century."

- Stephen Soldz, Professor, Boston Graduate School of Psychoanalysis;
President, Psychologists for Social Responsibility

"Powerful...Must See...It will leave you Spellbound."

- Andrew Goliszek, Author, In the Name of Science:
A History of Secret Programs, Medical Research, and Human Experimentation

"An important work...terrifying in its implications....
Human Resources is a must see for those of us who still take democracy seriously."

- Bruce E. Levine, Author Commonsense Rebellion:
Taking Back Your Life from Drugs, Shrinks, Corporations, and a World Gone Crazy

"It scared the shit out of me...A powerful and methodical
dissection of the dominant culture."

- Derrick Jensen, Author, Endgame

"A masterful examination of the mechanization of human existence...
It is a rare occasion when watching a film can help open not only our eyes, but our minds."

- Andrew Marshall, Centre for Research on Globalization

"A Masterpiece. Unless you weep, you may be damaged by this film.
Viewer discretion, and love, advised.
- David Ker Thomson, Professor,
Language and Thinking Program at Bard College

"Scott Noble's work is a pioneering development in documentary filmmaking in its content,
documentary technique, and even distribution method. Watch his stuff, use it, and build on it."

- Chris Simpson, Professor, School of Communication, American University

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• License

  • Standard YouTube License

• Music

  • "Viola Elegy (feat. Baird Dodge)" by Charles Dodge Listen ad-free with YouTube Red