“Knipoog in het Frietmuseum van Brussel dat dit weekend deze gesigneerde foto ontvangt. Clin d'œil au Musée de la frite à Bruxelles qui recevra cette photo dédicacée ce week-end.”
Knipoog in het Frietmuseum van Brussel dat dit weekend deze gesigneerde foto ontvangt. pic.twitter.com/oqNF9UFPbs
“The Ezadeen had been drifting without power about 40 nautical miles off the coast with as many as 450 people on board. “We know that it left from a Turkish port and was abandoned by its crew,” coastguard spokesman Filippo Marini told SkyTG24 television. “When we hailed the ship to ask about its status, a migrant woman responded, saying, ‘We are alone and we have no one to help us.’” It had been put on a collision course for the Italian coast but ran out of fuel, he said. A similar tactic was used by the crew of a ship which, on Tuesday, put out a distress call as it passed the Greek island of Corfu on its way into the Adriatic Sea. Almost 800 migrants, mostly Syrian refugees, landed in Italy the following day after the Italian rescue services took command of the vessel. The Moldovan-registered Blue Sky M was within five miles and 45 minutes’ sailing time of a disaster when it was boarded and brought under control.”
“Someone recently started an account called @AhistoricalPics, poking fun at the inaccuracies of accounts like @HistoryInPics and @HistoryInPix. The parody account tweets out obviously false facts, and silly photoshopped creations. But amazingly, the folks behind @HistoryInPix didn’t get the joke. They took that obviously mislabeled photo from the parody account and presented it as real.”
“With this book the public/private switch has been flipped, not to mention the paper/digital one. And I don’t mean just the specific material included, but the very idea of it. “Sketchbook” may well describe a new genre, one in which the emphasis is firmly on process and the profiles don’t proceed to any finalized form. And that’s fine, because it turns out that looking over the shoulder of working photographers is just as fascinating as viewing their finished projects. No two methodologies are the same, although notably almost all photographers in the book work with physical drafts rather than digital.”
“Doug Cunningham, president and CEO of Arctic Fibre, knows this misery all too well: Because upload speeds were too slow, he had to use a courier to send his 227-page environmental report on the cable to the review board in Cambridge Bay, a hamlet in Canada’s most northern province.”
“Shell was trying the logistical equivalent of a mission to the moon. During the short Arctic summer, when the sea ice made its annual retreat, Shell would have to bring not only the Kulluk but everything else: personnel, tankers, icebreakers, worker housing, supply vessels, helicopters, tugboats, spill-cleanup barges and a secondary rig to drill a relief well in case of a blowout. In the wake of Deepwater Horizon, Shell would build a $400 million Arctic-ready containment dome, an extra layer of spill protection that it would also need to drag north.”
MALIGN VELOCITIES by Benjamin Noys is a recent work on the subject of accelerationism, a notion whose general thrust is that, in order to achieve the goals of revolution, capitalism should be unchained, turbo-charged, and driven to its natural conclusion so that it explodes and dies. Noys provides an extremely thorough historical context for the idea, and it’s a fascinating deep dive. I lingered…
“Since 1977 I have been conducting research on cyranoids,” Milgram said. He quickly explained: “Cyranoids are people who do not speak thoughts originating in their own central nervous system: Rather, the words that they speak originate in the mind of another person who transmits these words to the cyranoid by means of a radio transmitter.” The term was inspired by the French play Cyrano de Bergerac, in which a brilliant but ugly man woos his beloved through love letters signed with the name of a handsome nobleman.
“In an even more bizarre exhibit, artists posted flyers around South Bank in London proclaiming that a unicorn would appear at a certain time. Nobody actually thought a unicorn was going to appear, but people gathered around anyway to see what was up, says Gillespie, who helped organize the performance. At the designated time, a group of about 10 people started speaking in unison: “We are the unicorn.” Unbeknownst to the crowd, they were cyranoids under the control of one of the artists. People in the audience initially thought it was all scripted, but the cyranoids answered in unison to spontaneous questions posed by people in the crowd.”
“Buzz is tired. Buzz is so tired of these moon-wisdom questions, nearly a half century of the same questions about feelings that leave him feeling inadequate. He is a man of science. Next time NASA should send up a poet, he wrote in one of his books, a philosopher, an artist, a journalist. He wasn’t being flip. He thought mankind clearly needed to send up people who know how to translate feelings.”
“The biggest thing with falling asleep in space,” says Mike Hopkins, who returned from a six-month tour on the Space Station last March, “is kind of a mental thing. On Earth, when I’ve had a long day, when I’m mentally and physically tired—when you first lie down on your bed, there’s a sense of relief. You get a load off your feet. There’s an immediate sense of relaxation. In space, you never feel that. You never have that feeling of taking weight off your feet—or that emotional relief.” Some astronauts miss it enough that they bungee-cord themselves to the wall, to provide a sense of lying down.
Sleep position presents its own challenges. The main question is whether you want your arms inside or outside the sleeping bag. If you leave your arms out, they float free in zero gravity, often drifting out from your body, giving a sleeping astronaut the look of a wacky ballet dancer. “I’m an inside guy,” Hopkins says. “I like to be cocooned up.”
“Rhythm is the interface between humans and machines, between distributed minds and overlapping mediascapes… Digital rhythm incites mutation across the networks.”
“Why do 18th century English paintings have so many squirrels in them, and how did they tame them so that they wouldn’t bite the painter?” It’s easy to find answers to such perplexing questions today. A quick Google search explains that squirrels were once desirable pets, and that domesticating them could be achieved in six simple steps. But in 1976, when the question was first posed to a librarian at the New York Public Library (NYPL), the internet hadn’t yet made everything ridiculously easy. Unable to answer the query, the bemused librarian who received it typed it onto a reference card and filed it away. Recently, a staff member found the recipe box (labeled “Interesting Reference Questions”) containing it and hundreds others asked between the 1940s and 1980s while cleaning out a desk. NYPL has since been posting pictures of its contents to Twitter and Instagram under the hashtag #LetMeLibrarianThatForYou.
“Metahaven is a new kind of graphic design team. This self-styled ‘design think tank’ is such a departure from conventional forms of practice that it is unlikely many designers have heard of them yet, particularly outside the Netherlands. Nor do they go out of their way to provide colleagues with entry points into their concerns and methods. A Dutch design historian who tried looking at their peculiarly awkward website (www.metahaven.net) confessed to me, with good reason, that its fragmentary structure perplexed her. It would be easy to dismiss the team – graphic designers Daniel van der Velden and Vinca Kruk, and spatial designer Gon Zifroni – as arcane experimentalists whose activities have nothing to do with the realities of practice.”
Mons, a city in Belgium that’s been designated the “European Capital of Culture” for 2015, saw its year in the spotlight get off to a rocky start after one of its marquee commissions collapsed. The large-scale public installation “The Passenger,” by Belgian artist Arne Quinze, consists of a latticework of red, orange, black, and naturally stained wooden beams floating over the city streets in a cloud-like formation. At about 6pm on the evening of December 24, however, one of its supporting columns gave way, and part of the structure collapsed into the rue de Nimy and the local courthouse, La Voix du Nord reported. No one was injured in the collapse.
“Backers of the project entertain visions of Gwadar as a new, more convenient gateway for trade from Chinese and Central Asian markets to points west. For China, closer access to the sea from its landlocked western territories, where a massive development campaign is underway, can save thousands of miles and days of travel for goods that would otherwise have to exit the country from the east on a much more circuitous route.”
“It’s not like you have to eat insects raw. You would never know the difference between say, a sausage patty, a veggie sausage patty, and an insect sausage patty. It’s all the same! It’s just the spices. Let the food scientists go crazy on it.”
“We’re getting better and better at dating mass-extinction events, but we’re not having a comparable improvement in our understanding of what caused them.”
Bot resources is a really useful list of links to code, APIs and ideas for making bots. I found this on the also very informative Bot Weekly newsletter delivered by Beaugunderson. The rapidly growing community of botmakers is so prolific that these weekly updates tend to include ten or more new bots, mostly twitter bots though. I have a feeling that in 2015 this community will experiment more beyond twitter.
“[…] in every society the production of discourse is at once controlled, selected, organised and redistributed by a certain number of procedures whose role is to ward off its powers and dangers, to gain mastery over its chance events, to evade its ponderous, formidable materiality.”
“I’m re-photographing very old photographs and repurposing them. I recently used a portrait of my siblings and myself taken in Ottawa in 1971. It appeals to my sense of frugality, making use of things that already exist, bringing them back into circulation. Photography comes with this anxiety of overproduction; you can just keep shooting and shooting and you end up with so much material (Garry Winogrand, for instance). Pulling something out of the so-called archive is a way to mitigate that anxiety.”
“The result: a subset became more compliant, but the vast majority also became more suggestible when given misinformation. “Essentially you’re making people less reliable and more stupid,” he said. “You can see the problem.””
I got dragged into one of those Wikipedia rabbit holes where you keep clicking one more link until you have 30 open tabs, all Wikipedia. This time, it was about the staggering variety of regional chess variants that all sprung from one game, Chaturanga, which developed in India in the 7th century, and spread both East- and Westward, mutating along the way into modern Chess and many other variants. That’s interesting from a historical perspective, of course, and from a Computer Science perspective, these Chess variants are interesting because while computers have eclipsed the best humans in Western Chess, some of the Asian variants of the game are much more computationally complex, despite not having more complicated rulesets. The ancient board game Go (which is unrelated to Chaturanga, and predates it) is perhaps the most complex of all popular strategy board games, and computers still play at an amateur level without handicaps. Much effort in the field of Artificial Intelligence has been spent trying to develop good algorithms to play these games at the level of strong human players.
The Japanese variant of Chess is called shogi, and is also more computationally complex than classical Chess. Shogi is unusual as Chess variants go, in that players are allowed to drop pieces they have captured from the opponent back onto the board and use them as their own pieces. The pieces are not distinguished by color, and except for the piece equivalent to the king, are the same for each side; who is controlling a piece is indicated by which way the piece is pointing. This brings us to the very possibly apocryphal story of the man who saved shogi from the oppressive American occupants. Here it is:
After the Second World War, SCAP (occupational government mainly led by US) tried to eliminate all “feudal” factors from Japanese society and shogi was included in the possible list of items to be banned along with Bushido (philosophy of samurai) and other things. The reason for banning shogi for SCAP was its exceptional character as a board game seen in the usage of captured pieces. SCAP insisted that this could lead to the idea of prisoner abuse. But Kozo Masuda, then one of the top professional shogi players, when summoned to the SCAP headquarters for an investigation, criticized such understanding of shogi and insisted that it is not shogi but western chess that potentially contains the idea of prisoner abuse because it just kills the pieces of the opponent while shogi is rather democratic for giving prisoners the chance to get back into the game. Masuda also said that chess contradicts the ideal of gender equality in western society because the king shields itself behind the queen and runs away. Masuda’s assertion is said to have eventually led to the exemption of shogi from the list of items to be banned.
Wow! Mind blown, or what? Unfortunately, when we do a little bit of academic source criticism, the only citation for this incredible story is a book by one Masuda, Kozo. Certainly this guy is an impartial source who would have no interest in embellishing his own role in history? Alas, I could find no other credible sources for this version of the story, although it’s a very good story, you have to admit. It is, however, a fact that the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers, led by the SCAP himself, General Douglas MacArthur, sought to eliminate a variety of practices that they thought were too tightly tied to feudal or imperialistic ideology, including sports like judo and games like shogi. The book Mapping an American Empire of Sport repeats the story about the SCAP wanting to ban shogi, judo and kendo. It doesn’t confirm the incredible rhetorical heroics of Masuda Kozo, however. In place of traditional Japanese sports, MacArthur promoted Western sports, and was a fan of baseball in particular.
But the book makes a great point:
Ironically, the suspicions of Americans during their occupation of post-war Japan that associated sports and physical practices (judo, kendo and shogi) with Japanese ideological and spiritual beliefs closely echoed the inter-war Japanese governmental suspicions of Western sports practices as being infused with Western or American beliefs. In many ways, any physical movement, whether it is rule-bound or spontaneous, is a practice that is essentially an empty form that can be infused and associated with any values, ideology or spirituality, whether it is of Western or Eastern origin.
The Japanese easily adopted baseball and other Western sports by simply infusing them with traditional Japanese values, such as bushido (the way of the warrior, old Samurai philosophy). And of course, a board game like shogi or Chess is really just an abstract game manifested on a physical board with physical pieces. Today, it is played online, immaterially except in the form of ones and zeroes, as well as on the physical board. As an abstract game, it carries no political allegiances. We are free to interpret the game as we like. Whether Masuda invented his radical reinterpretation of Chess after the fact or actually delivered it as an apologia before the occupational government, it demonstrates just how much room there is to reinterpret a game and infuse it with any politics or ethics one wishes, when really it’s all just a few wooden pieces moved on a board with squares on it according to a simple, abstract set of rules.
The iconography of the game may superficially have ties to culture, but it is only slapped onto an abstract game. The ancestor of the modern rook was a chariot (the word rook comes from Persian, and is rather odd for an English word; in other languages, the piece is called Tower, which the piece more physically resembles in most chess sets), the ancestor of the bishop was an elephant. Quite a transformation, from animal to high-ranking preacher. Or perhaps not.
In any case, the SCAP was probably more concerned with the cultural practices and the ideology surrounding judo or shogi than with the actual iconography or rules of the game itself. One can play shogi without having a Japanese cultural background; one can perform a judo throw in basic training in the US army while devoutly believing that Japan deserved Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
History is written by the winners. And sometimes the writers of history want to make themselves winners, which I strongly suspect is the case with Masuda. Regardless, now, seven decades after the end of WWII, the number of shogi players is declining with no oppressive influence from the Americans. Yet the number of players of Go, a Chinese game also very popular in Japan, is on the rise.
“Fine, I’ll tell you. But I have to warn you, Richard, that your question falls under the umbrella of a pseudoscience called xenology. Xenology is an unnatural mixture of science fiction and formal logic. At its core is a flawed assumption—that an alien race would be psychologically human.”
“Why flawed?” asked Noonan.
“Because biologists have already been burned attempting to apply human psychology to animals. Earth animals, I note.”
“Just a second,” said Noonan. “That’s totally different. We’re talking about the psychology of intelligent beings.”
“True. And that would be just fine, if we knew what intelligence was.”
“And we don’t?” asked Noonan in surprise.
“Believe it or not, we don’t. We usually proceed from a trivial definition: intelligence is the attribute of man that separates his activity from that of the animals. It’s a kind of attempt to distinguish the master from his dog, who seems to understand everything but can’t speak. However, this trivial definition does lead to wittier ones. They are based on depressing observations of the aforementioned human activity. For example: intelligence is the ability of a living creature to perform pointless or unnatural acts.”
“Yes, that’s us,” agreed Noonan.
“Unfortunately. Or here’s a definition-hypothesis. Intelligence is a complex instinct which hasn’t yet fully matured. The idea is that instinctive activity is always natural and useful. A million years will pass, the instinct will mature, and we will cease making the mistakes which are probably an integral part of intelligence. And then, if anything in the universe changes, we will happily become extinct—again, precisely because we’ve lost the art of making mistakes, that is, trying various things not prescribed by a rigid code.”
“Somehow this all sounds so … demeaning.”
“All right, then here’s another definition—a very lofty and noble one. Intelligence is the ability to harness the powers of the surrounding world without destroying the said world.”
”
–Roadside Picnic - Arkady and Boris Strugatsky (viam1k3y)
In 2008, the psychologists Pascal Boyer and Pierre Liénard at Washington University in St Louis went so far as to claim that ritual creates a distinct attentional state in which we consider actions on a much more basic level than usual […] Ritual shifts attention from the overall pattern of events toward their component gestures. Instead of noting only that a bowl is being cleaned, the witness to a ritual might notice the acceleration of the hand across the bowl’s edge during each wiping gesture, or the way the cloth bunches and then opens as it is dragged forward and back across the surface. What’s more, the repetition of gestures makes it harder and harder to resist imaginatively modelling them, feeling how it might be to move your own hand in the same way. This is precisely the way that repetition in music works to make the nuanced, expressive elements of the sound increasingly available, and to make a participatory tendency – a tendency to move or sing along – more irresistible.
“Got some time to kill and want to read a meandering essay by an algorithm with a short attention span? Tell us how many minutes you want to spend reading and a starting topic, and we’ll whip something up.”
“Time spent building a looter-proof bunker or learning how to grind your own flour is time not spent reading Shakespeare or playing tennis. If you enjoy grinding flour more than playing tennis, fine. If practising survival skills in the woods thrills you, go ahead. But if not, you might weigh the opportunity costs of prepping against the likelihood of apocalypse.”