Saturday, August 8, 2026

Human-Origin Story Is Being Radically Revised

 

The Human-Origin Story Is Being Radically Revised

The Atlantic / by Ross Andersen / Aug 8, 2026 at 7:20 AM


Some 50,000 years ago, modern humans wandered into Ice Age Europe. The continent was new to us Homo sapiens, but not for beings of our general kind. Neanderthals and their ancestors had been living among Eurasia’s glaciers for ages, and in ways that would have struck us as familiar. Evidence suggests that they may have strung eagle talons together into necklaces and stained their bodily ornaments with pigments. They tended fires, cooked food, and maybe even made their own glue. On sandstone cave walls, they etched wavy lines, dots, and other geometric designs.

After first contact, under social circumstances that we cannot possibly imagine, modern humans and Neanderthals had children together; around the same time, in Asia, our species also procreated with another species, the Denisovans. Scientists know this because they have sequenced DNA from Neanderthal and Denisovan remains, and they can see fragments of their code in our genomes to this day. Now we are learning that still more of these fusions of blood and culture may have shaped our lineage. Last week, a team of researchers from UC Berkeley and Johns Hopkins University published new evidence in Science suggesting that two “ghost” ancestors haunt our family tree—not Neanderthals or Denisovans, but some other hominin populations.

DNA analysis is only one of the techniques that scientists have been using to cast narrow shafts of light into the dark abyss that is the human past. Researchers from several disciplines have been collecting and reinterpreting ever smaller traces of our forebears to reimagine how they lived, what they made, and what family secrets they might still be hiding.

The ghost-ancestors paper is the most recent example. The team from UC Berkeley and Hopkins analyzed some very odd sequences of DNA in the human genome, which were discovered 20 years ago. These don’t match up with those of any ancient hominin species that have already been sequenced, and their origins have been mysterious. But now we have some suspects. One of the strange sequences appears to come from a hominin who mated with us before we ventured out of Africa. The other may come from the great wanderer Homo erectus, who left Africa nearly 2 million years ago and ranged across Asia. Homo erectus may never have encountered Homo sapiens directly, but the researchers suspect that the hominin interbred with the Denisovans before the Denisovans interbred with us. Either way, all of these people—if it is right to call them people—played a role in our species’ story of becoming, yet we are only now learning the nature of that connection.

All year, scientists from different fields have been making revisions to the human-origin story. In January, one team announced that they’d found handheld wooden tools along an ancient lakeshore in present-day Greece—a refuge between glaciers where hominins of some kind butchered elephants about 430,000 years ago. These are surely not the first wooden tools ever to be made, but they are the most ancient that we’ve managed to find—and they were used during the Stone Age. That name—“Stone Age”—is misleading. It reveals more about the limits of archeology than about the material culture of the people who lived through the period, who may not have thought of themselves as being defined by stone tools at all. We perceive them that way only because their knapped axes of flint and obsidian are likelier to have survived to the present day than the digging sticks that our forebears smoothed and sharpened.

[Read: When did humans first start wearing clothes?]

Beyond stone and wood, these lakeside elephant butchers likely put all kinds of natural materials to clever use. They may have employed woven twine to sew animal hides together, but we wouldn’t know it, because twine unravels into thin, disintegrating filaments, and bacteria rapidly remove hides from the world. Wood tends to rot away too. In this location, the tools had the good geological fortune to be buried quickly under mud.

Stone tools have themselves been reinterpreted. Researchers recently detected traces of poison on an ancient set of quartz arrowheads that were dug up in 1985. The weapons were found in a South African rock shelter that was used by modern humans 60,000 years ago—tens of thousands of years earlier than what had been regarded as the oldest confirmed human use of poison. The ancient South African archers retrieved the neurotoxin from a plant bulb that grows as large as a honeydew melon and dabbed it onto the cold stone of their arrowheads, knowing that it would slow down any animal that they pierced. Some scientists are now calling for a reappraisal of other ancient arrowheads to see whether they too had been sheathed in poison by people whose ingenuity had previously been underestimated by science.

Piecing together the history of our species in this way is tedious work, because the evidence is so fragmentary. The Earth’s violent, self-renewing processes erase so much. During the planet’s cold spells, its glaciers steamroll from the poles toward the equator, grinding and scraping whole landmasses clean. In its warmer, middle zones, jungles can sprout up within decades, covering human ruins in a thick and devouring layer of green.

Scientists have recently learned that the Amazon rainforest has been concealing millennia-old earthworks on an enormous scale. A team of international researchers spent weeks flying lidar-equipped planes back and forth over a swath of Amazonia. Their laser scans revealed nearly 400 immense structures that were previously unknown to science. From the sky, they saw that these systems of raised banks and deep ditches formed geometrically precise circles, octagons, and squares, and were linked to one another by remarkably straight roads. The earthworks were built 1,200 to 2,500 years ago by the Aquiry civilization. Having surveyed only one small portion of Aquiry territory, the researchers suspect that tens of thousands more of these structures may be waiting silently under the region’s trees.

One hundred thousand years from now, the Aquiry ruins might vanish altogether, and in Earth time, 100,000 years is nothing. In 10 million years, even the skyscrapers and continent-sprawling infrastructure of our own civilization will be crushed into sedimentary layers. Nearly everything that we have created will be reduced to trace elements and isotopes, but for a few specimens lucky enough to be fossilized. For all of the other details of our world to persist in human memory, science would need to get better, or civilization itself would need to keep existing, and telling its own story, from now until then.

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Wednesday, May 27, 2026

Director Who Found Hell in Empty Hallways

 The 20-Year-Old Director Who Found Hell in Empty Hallways

Backrooms film stars Robert Bobroczkyi

•The Atlantic / by David Sims / May 27, 2026 at 3:23 PM

In 2019, a mysterious post took off on 4chan, that ever-churning morass of anonymous commentary and internet peculiarities. In response to a yellowed picture of an empty, carpeted room (actually in a vacant HobbyTown store in Oshkosh, Wisconsin), a user wrote, “If you’re not careful and you noclip out of reality in the wrong areas, you’ll end up in the Backrooms.” To “noclip” is to walk through solid surfaces in a video game, and the idea of blipping out of reality and into some odd, mundane parallel universe sparked instant intrigue—including for one 13-year-old named Kane Parsons. 

Parsons was already deeply enmeshed in imagining, and visualizing, strange new worlds online. “It’s nothing,” Parsons told me recently, speaking of what drew him to the empty place shown in that particular viral photo. “But it’s also kind of giving us everything.”

Within seven years, he would expand the simple notion of “the Backrooms” into a complex saga. He developed the concept into a string of YouTube videos, which have attracted hundreds of millions of views since he began uploading them in 2022. Now he has adapted the endeavor, which he began for fun in high school, into something much bigger: a feature film, coming to theaters before his 21st birthday.

Parsons, who grew up in the Northern California countryside of Sonoma County, was given a hand-me-down laptop before he started middle school, and the internet quickly became what he describes as a third parent. (“That sounds really bad, but, you know,” he added ruefully.) He was inspired to create not by movies or television, but by YouTube, where he was drawn to DIY visual-effects demos; he was astounded that seemingly anyone could teach themselves how to make inventive videos using easily accessible software. “When I was in school, the only thing I would think about all day was a random little explosion effect I wanted to achieve,” he said. His eventual goal was to “make iPhone videos of things that didn’t actually happen, and have a fictional story that doesn’t describe itself as fictional.”

[Read: The eerie comfort of liminal spaces]

Toying with the space between real and false memories is the artistic juice of projects such as Backrooms. Born from internet folk tales known as “creepypastas,” these stories tend to be user-generated and build upon themselves, as amateur creators contribute to a backstory for one strange image. The notorious “Slenderman” myth—about a mysterious, tall monster who lurks in the background of photos—originated on a popular message board in 2009, leading to a found-footage-style YouTube show, feature films, and a real-life moral panic. The Syfy-channel TV show Channel Zero uses some of the best known of these fables as fodder for serialized storytelling. Parsons’s Backrooms is perhaps the most high-profile entry yet in the creepypasta canon; it’s an A24 movie starring highly regarded, Oscar-nominated actors (Chiwetel Ejiofor and Renate Reinsve) and it is receiving a wide release in late May, a peak time of year for moviegoing. It’s already predicted to make back more than double its almost $10 million budget.

Backrooms follows Clark (played by Ejiofor), who owns a cavernous furniture store that has fallen on hard financial times. He stumbles across a portal to another dimension in the basement, filled with empty hallways and harsh fluorescent lighting; furniture and decorations are embedded in the walls and floors; bizarre, threatening creatures roam freely. His therapist, Mary Kline (Reinsve), is eventually drawn into the space too, as are his hapless store employees. Much of the film’s success, however, derives not from the twists and turns of plot but from simply situating the viewer in the disquieting vibe of this bizarre place.

The movie’s story requires zero initiation for new viewers, but it has deep ties to the narrative that Parsons built out with his YouTube shorts, including a subplot about research scientists; A24 seems hopeful about tapping those young online viewers to create a sleeper summer hit. Backrooms is far less visceral, however, than many of the studio’s past horror-movie success stories, such as the director Ari Aster’s haunting Hereditary and Midsommar. Parsons’s film is headier; he’s more comfortable letting the viewer tingle with fear as they watch characters get lost in the hallways of an inexplicable maze—using, at times, terrifying footage that comes from the first-person perspective of a shaky camcorder.

In conversation, Parsons comes off as serious and thoughtful; this is perhaps unsurprising, given that, as irrational as Hollywood can be, nobody’s going to hand millions of dollars to any 20-year-old just because he or she has a lot of YouTube subscribers. Parsons seems less like a plucky boy wonder than a committed technician, someone who has ground out a skill set using tools that are still relatively new: the ability to conjure realistic environments using only your home computer. As he taught himself how to use free, open-source 3-D-animation software, he tried imagining proper stories for the graphics he was creating.


Michael Tyrone Delaney for The Atlantic

Kane Parsons

His work first gained traction on YouTube in 2021, when he was posting videos inspired by the anime series Attack on Titan. Parsons also found viral fame with animations inspired by the video game Portal, which features an immersive and beautifully designed domain that is almost a sleeker version of Backrooms’ setting; it mostly unfolds in a sequence of austere laboratories from which there’s seemingly no exit. As a teen, Parsons spent much of his time on his computer, both because of the coronavirus pandemic and because he had arthritis that made walking around difficult (he said he’s now on medication for the condition, which helped make the film production doable). Working at a standing desk, he started tinkering with the look and feel of what’s known as liminal horror—the expansive genre suggested by that one 4chan post that has since filtered into the mainstream. 

Liminal horror, although hard to define, blends the surreal and the prosaic, conceiving of spaces that look familiar in their blandness but have something indefinably “off” about them. “I latched on to it in the same way that most people did,” Parsons said of the original post and the work it has inspired. (Examples include the TV show Severance, much of which is set in a purgatory-like workplace, and the video game turned film Exit 8, about a subway station whose layout subtly changes with every turn.) “That feeling of walking through a misremembered space from a dream, like your home, but it’s not your own home, because your brain is synthesizing information weirdly.” He compared the concept to wandering through “a Walmart, but your brain is saying it’s your childhood home.”

The aesthetic feels inextricably tied to the late 1990s and early 2000s—harshly lit office buildings with drop ceilings, vacant malls, the kinds of blank rooms tucked away in a complex that would host a kid’s birthday party in the suburbs. That specific time period is key for Parsons, as are its aesthetic markers: “family media from our childhoods,” such as “the color of digicam photos, the white balance being off, general graininess.” The overall effect is, he mentioned, “a feeling of found media.”

Liminal horror evokes “a past that no longer exists,” Parsons explained. “These things no one talks about anymore, abandoned in the past, decaying or rotting away back there.” The genre also, somewhat accidentally, coincided with the rise of generative-AI art. Image-creation models such as DALL-E started to gain a public foothold in 2021, summoning initially rudimentary pictures from simple text prompts; something is always “off” about them too, no matter how hard the technology works to imitate human creativity. “At the time, there was a lot of artistic intrigue for me from earlier generative-AI systems, when it was just a completely hallucinated hellscape,” Parsons said, referring to his own experience with text-to-image models.

[Read: Artists are losing the war against AI]

But the movie he’s made is not some anti-AI commentary, he stresses; it’s speaking to the same feeling of disconnection from reality that AI has prompted. Both the endless sweep of the Backrooms and the limitless field of AI can represent “this big vomit pile of all the information we spit out as a species,” as Parsons put it—composed of all the memories a person can conjure and fantasies they can express. In the film, the protagonists become wanderers in a landscape that seems to exist on its own space-time continuum, which appears to pull from the collective unconsciousness of everyone who explores it; the Backrooms somehow will their half-remembered dreams into being. The result is a grotesque, open-ended manifestation of its travelers’ imaginations. 

That sense of discomfort is the real horror of Backrooms, and why its curious atmosphere feels like a fresh take on ambient-inspired scares. It also might explain the original photo’s allure: The internet makes it possible to bring the most ludicrous thought to life, to an almost overwhelming extent. Becoming trapped in a generic, seemingly empty world offers the opposite experience—frightening and yet, at the same time, maybe strangely appealing.

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More Overlooked Films from 2000s

 The honorable mentions from Filmspotting Episode #723 further highlight "gems" from the 2000s that Adam and Josh felt were unfairly left out of their Best of the Decade bracket. [1]

Adam’s Honorable Mentions

Adam’s additional picks leaned heavily into indie dramas and challenging documentaries:

Josh’s Honorable Mentions

Josh’s secondary list included forgotten studio experiments and genre deep cuts:

📺 Where to Watch (Top 10 Picks)

Film [2] Availability
HumpdayRent/Buy on Apple TV or Amazon Video
At the Death House DoorStream on Tubi or AMC+
My WinnipegStream on The Criterion Channel or Max
Extraordinary StoriesOften available on MUBI or specialized art-house platforms
Matchstick MenRent/Buy on Google Play or Apple TV
The PromotionStream on Peacock or Pluto TV
What Lies BeneathStream on Hulu or Disney+
My Life Without MeRent/Buy on Amazon Video or Vudu
Baby BoyStream on Netflix or Hulu
Nacho LibreStream on Netflix or Hulu
If you're looking for more, I can find the top 10 winners of their 2000s bracket or details on their Golden Brick (underrated) award winners. Which would you prefer?

Saturday, May 23, 2026

Top five overlooked films of the 2000s film spotting

 In Episode #723, Adam and Josh dive into films that were notable absences from their "Best of the 2000s" bracket. The discussion focuses on high-profile directors' lesser-known works, niche documentaries, and underappreciated comedies. [1, 2, 3]

Adam’s Top 5 Discussion Points

Adam’s list focuses on indie dramas and art-house documentaries that he felt deserved more attention during the decade:

      Humpday (2009): Adam highlights this Mark Duplass-led comedy for its awkward, authentic exploration of male friendship and boundaries.

        At the Death House Door (2008): A recommendation for those interested in social issues, focusing on the story of a chaplain in the Texas prison system.

          My Winnipeg (2007): Discussed as a "docu-fantasia" by Guy Maddin, Adam appreciates its surrealist take on autobiography and hometown nostalgia.

            Extraordinary Stories (2008): An ambitious, four-hour Argentinian film that Adam champions for its intricate narrative structure.

              Matchstick Men (2003): Adam makes the case for this Ridley Scott-directed con-artist drama, specifically praising Nicolas Cage's performance as a twitchy, neurotic professional. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]

            Josh’s Top 5 Selections

            Josh leans toward comedies and character-driven studio films that were either critical or commercial misfires at the time: [6]

                The Promotion (2008): A look at the cutthroat world of supermarket management, featuring Seann William Scott and John C. Reilly.

                  What Lies Beneath (2000): Josh revisits this Robert Zemeckis supernatural thriller, arguing it’s a more effective Hitchcockian homage than its reputation suggests.

                    My Life Without Me (2003): A heavy recommendation for this Sarah Polley-led drama about a woman planning her family's future after a terminal diagnosis.

                      Baby Boy (2001): Josh discusses John Singleton’s gritty coming-of-age film as a significant, often overlooked entry in the director's filmography.

                        Nacho Libre (2006): Josh defends Jack Black’s Mexican wrestling comedy for its visual style and quirky humor, which he feels was unfairly dismissed. [1, 2, 3, 7]

                      Key Discussion Themes

                      • Madness Snubs: The list was explicitly created to highlight "gems that didn't make the 64-film bracket" in their 2019 "Best of the 2000s" tournament.
                      • Director Deep Cuts: They specifically sought out "deeper cuts from A-list directors" like Ridley Scott and Robert Zemeckis.
                      • The "Roger Dodger" Mention: During the episode, Adam recalls calling Roger Dodger (2002) the "most overlooked movie of all time" back in 2004, a sentiment he still holds. [2, 8, 9, 10]
                      Would you like the Honorable Mentions from this episode, or should I find where to watch these specific titles?

                      Friday, May 22, 2026

                      Freud's Idea of Ego vs Popular Usage

                       AI Mode

                      In Freudian psychology, the ego is the rational, decision-making part of the psyche that mediates between primal desires and moral constraints. In contrast, everyday usage treats "ego" as a negative synonym for arrogance or self-centeredness. The difference stems from a translation quirk and the merging of two distinct psychological concepts.
                      1. The Freudian Ego: The Mind's Mediator
                      In his structural model, Freud proposed that the psyche is divided into three parts:
                      • The Id: The unconscious reservoir of primal urges and basic instincts, demanding instant gratification (operating on the "pleasure principle").
                      • The Superego: The moral conscience, which internalizes societal rules and demands perfection, often causing guilt.
                      • The Ego: The realistic, conscious and preconscious component. It is the logical executive that balances the raw demands of the id with the moral restrictions of the superego, finding a practical, safe way to satisfy needs.
                      To Freud, a strong ego is positive and highly desirable. It means a person is grounded, rational, and mentally healthy. In fact, the English word "ego" is a Latin translation of Freud's original German term das Ich, which literally translates to simply "the I" or "the self".
                      2. The Common Usage: The Inflated Self
                      When someone in everyday conversation says "he has a big ego," they are expressing frustration over extreme self-importance, entitlement, or an inability to admit fault. Interestingly, in psychology, this modern colloquial definition actually blends a healthy sense of self with traits that Freud would attribute to a distorted or uninhibited Id (e.g., impulsive, selfish behavior).
                      Summary of Differences
                      • Concept: Rational problem-solver vs. self-absorbed arrogance.
                      • Role: The positive mediator that keeps us anchored in reality vs. an inflated personality trait that causes interpersonal conflict.
                      • Origin: Das Ich ("the I") in psychoanalytic theory vs. popularized pop-psychology.

                      If you want to dive deeper, I can explain:
                      • How the ego uses defense mechanisms (like denial or projection) to protect itself from anxiety.
                      • How an overpowered id or overpowered superego impacts behavior.
                      Let me know how you'd like to continue exploring this topic.
                      The confusion started because Freud never actually used the word "ego." The "psychological" ego and the "arrogant" ego come from the same Latin root, but they took two very different paths into the English language.
                      1. The Lost Translation
                      Freud wrote in German and used the simple word das Ich, which literally means "the I". He wanted his theories to feel personal and grounded in everyday experience.
                      When his work was translated into English by James Strachey in the 1920s, Strachey chose to use Latin terms (Id, Ego, Superego) instead of literal English ones (It, I, Over-I). This was done to make psychoanalysis sound like a cold, objective medical science. By turning "the I" into "the ego," the concept became a technical label rather than a description of the self.
                      2. The Path to Arrogance
                      While "ego" was becoming a technical term in doctors' offices, it already had a separate, older history in English.
                      • Latin Root: The word ego simply means "I".
                      • Early Terms: Before Freud, English already used words like egotism (the practice of talking too much about oneself) and egoism (the philosophy of self-interest).
                      • The Merge: As Freudian ideas became "pop psychology" in the mid-20th century, the public blended the technical term with the older, negative words. People began using "ego" as a shorthand for having an "inflated I."

                      The Two Meanings Side-by-Side
                      FeatureFreudian "Ego" (Das Ich)Colloquial "Ego"
                      TranslationThe "I"Self-importance
                      ToneFunctional (like a computer OS)Moralistic (a character flaw)
                      GoalTo stay sane and realisticTo feel superior to others
                      VisualA rider guiding a horseAn inflated balloon
                      💡 Key Takeaway: If you have "ego strength" in psychology, you're mentally healthy; if you have a "big ego" in a bar, you're probably being a jerk.

                      Would you like to know more about the other mistranslations (like Id or Superego) or how a "strong ego" actually helps you handle stress?
                      Show all
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