Sexpo 67: Paradise Islands? Sexualized space at the International and Universal Exposition in Montreal.
Bibliographic record
Abstract
Offensive as it may seem: sex sells. It is no surprise then that Expo 67 attracted over fifty million visitors in the span of six months during the summer of 1967. From the edgy graphic design, to the gracious hostesses and the avant-garde pavilions placed strategically on two fantasy islands in the middle of the Fleuve Saint-Laurent, every aspect of Expo was sexy. Commissioner general Pierre Dupuy and Les Durs, the team in charge of designing, building and managing Expo, had created a bombshell for the entire world to observe and covet. In a short period of time, they built a symbol that would forever embody the zeitgeist of the mid- to late-1960s. The optimism and romantic ideals of ‘Man and his World’ were infectious among the slew of young and old who made the pilgrimage to Montreal that summer. The metropolis of the future, as it was coined, was the place to be in order to catch a glimpse of what the planet was to become in the following decades. The world’s fair in 1967 was unlike anything anyone had seen before. It featured a spectacular collection of exciting new technologies, fine art, sculpture, food, avant-garde architecture, fashion trends, and fascinating people from around the world, which resulted in a transnational mosaic composed of sixty-two nations and a sensorial surge experienced by each visitor and employee. Furthermore, the event and its world-class city flourished in the spotlight. The power of visual culture was felt immediately as images and footage of Expo propagated rapidly around the globe, allowing the fair to be shared by each nation. That year, the international community was looking-in on Montréal’s libido (or ‘joie-devivre’), and taking notes. An enthusiastic international press expressed their amazement and admiration: ‘Expo 67 isn’t just a World Fair: it has glitter, sex appeal, and it’s given impact and meaning to a word that had none: Canada’.1
Fetched live from OpenAlex and de-inverted. Abstracts are not stored in this database: the inverted indexes are 8.6 GB of the frame’s 9.3 GB of text, and the host has 13 GB free.
How this classification was reachedexpand
Full frame machine prediction
Teacher imitationNot calibrated prevalence, not ground truth. Human validation pending. The Gemma side is a direct model label for every work in the frame, read from the title-only record. The Codex side is a classifier learned from the 10,348 direct Codex labels and calibrated to design-weighted sample rates; fields without enough sample support carry no Codex call. Candidate is the union of the two sides; consensus is their intersection. These outputs are machine_predicted_unvalidated and are not human labels.
Distilled classifier scores by category (both heads)
| Category | Codex | Gemma |
|---|---|---|
| Metaresearch | 0.000 | 0.001 |
| Meta-epidemiology (narrow) | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Meta-epidemiology (broad) | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Bibliometrics | 0.001 | 0.001 |
| Science and technology studies | 0.016 | 0.006 |
| Scholarly communication | 0.004 | 0.001 |
| Open science | 0.001 | 0.003 |
| Research integrity | 0.001 | 0.002 |
| Insufficient payload (model declined to judge) | 0.051 | 0.001 |
Machine scores (provisional)
The two teacher heads of the student model, read on this work. A score orders the frame for review; it never asserts a category, and the validation status ships verbatim with every row.
Baseline scores from an immature model (maturity gate not passed, 7 training rounds). Scores rank; they never assert a category.
score_only:v0-immature-baseline · verbatim from the scoring run: score_only means the number may rank works, and no category label ships from itClassification
machine, unvalidatedMachine predicted; a candidate call from one source (direct Gemma or distilled Codex), not a consensus.
How this classification was reached, model by model and score by score, is at the end of the page under "How this classification was reached".