Accidental team effort: A while ago, we ordered a set of super-magnetic BuckyBalls from ThinkGeek. Miles soon discovered he could stick them to the nails in our wooden floor, and stack them up in delicate little towers. Amy, with her amazing eye for detail, saw something beautiful in the scene and started taking pictures – close up, and with a very short depth of field. She accidentally left the camera’s light temperature sensor set to Tungsten, which caused this gorgeous bluish cast.
Remembering that ThinkGeek has a section attached to each product in their catalog for “Customer Action Shots,” I submitted the image alongside their BuckyBalls product entry. Next day, amazed to discover we had won this month’s user submission prize!
I’m totally in love with Amy’s shot — and with Amy. And with Miles.
A week ago, I spied this sign, attached to a chain link fence on a construction site near my work. Thought it was strange, maybe a relic from a bygone era, but mostly just loved it as a metaphor for a seven-year-old codebase we’re about to ditch. Still, the words NONCHALANCE VIABILITY SURVEY rang in the back of my brain. This was too odd to be accidental.
Last night, I pulled up the picture again and noticed that it included a toll-free number. Decided to give it a call – why not? What I heard next was… well, you’ll just have to call it yourself and see.
So apparently the whole thing is an art project of some kind – subtle and “official-looking” enough to pass for just more bureaucratic signage, so easy to walk past, not notice, be ignored. But just below the surface is something that rings a bit like a Church of the Subgenius 20 years later. Digging deeper, found this SFMOMA article about the project (and related ones), which in turn linked to Elsewhere Public Works, who apparently run the Nonchalance Viability Survey. Dig the arcane command line interface at the Elsewhere site.
I keep thinking about how this sign could have been just a raised eyebrow to me, barely noticed. How much do we miss on a daily basis? In the swirling miasma of culture, there are unnoticed touchstones that lead to paths that goes as deep and as far as we care to follow.
There were stickers scattered randomly around this year’s Maker Faire: “Last year was better.” The weird thing was that whoever made them would had to have printed them up before the fair began. How could they know in advance? What would have happened if this year had been better than ever? Unfortunately, the stickers were right.
We’ve attended all four years of Maker Faire now, so Miles has been there at ages 3, 4, 5 and 6 (does that qualify as a tradition?) I still think it’s one of the Bay Area’s most amazing explosions of talent and creativity — there’s nothing else like it. But this year there were noticeably fewer amazing giant steel sculptures, a much smaller presence from the incredible Cyclecide, more guard rails and safety precautions, more people (again), and more attendance from professional organizations. Year by year, the fair is starting to feel a bit less like a family-friendly version of Burning Man, a bit more like an opportunity for professional Lego collectors to network.
I don’t want to make too much of that though – Maker Faire most definitely has NOT started to suck. It’s still dazzling, inspiring, amazing. Just that it’s started to feel a bit… safer than it once did.
That said, Miles and I had an amazing day watching the Giant Mouse Trap, building inventions with computer scrap parts, learning about the SCA, “driving” the amazing snail car, watching the human llama wobble around, riding the wooden bikes (my fave part of every MF), digging on a thousand kinds of robots, taking on challenges at the Instructables booth, spending way too much time at the various Legos exhibits, eating great good food on a perfect spring day. And the R2D2 Miles wanted so badly to see last year finally showed up – the little Padouin was beaming with happiness.
This year’s photo gallery (63 images and 10 videos):
Click icon at lower right after starting to view full-screen. View the whole set at Flickr (includes captions you don’t get with the slideshow).
See also: my photos from Maker Faires 2008, 2007 and 2006.
Had some freaky food fun today… cut hot dogs into segments, pushed pieces of dry spaghetti through, boiled. Despite the faces in these shots, Miles loved them, said they looked like Cerise Tinh from Star Wars… without a face.
After clicking Play button, click icon at lower right of slideshow to view full-screen.
Since 1994, A Word A Day (AWAD) has done one thing and done it well – bring a new word into your active vocabulary (complete with audible pronunciations). Truthfully, I often skim or gloss entries arriving in the daily inbox, but every now and then one really catches my attention. Today’s word: Skeuomorph:
noun: A design feature copied from a similar artifact in another material, even when not functionally necessary. For example, the click sound of a shutter in an analog camera that is now reproduced in a digital camera by playing a sound clip.
The word captures the fake authenticity meme so well. Think wood-grained vinyl on the side of a 70s station wagon. Think “distressed” jeans. Think hockey mom.
Stranger than fiction: Tiny, virtually indestructible animals called tardigrades, aka “water bears.” They don’t do much, but they don’t seem to know how to die, either. From The Very Short List – What can’t water bears bear?
Tardigrades — barely visible invertebrates that cling to mosses and lichens — are an exception to this rule. They are virtually indestructible. In recent years, scientists have subjected tardigrades (which are also known as water bears) to extreme temperatures, ranging from 155ºC to –200ºC. They’ve deprived the creatures of food and water for years at a time and zapped them with incredibly toxic levels of radiation. But, just like a Timex watch, water bears keep on ticking. Earlier this month, scientists reported that a colony of tardigrades had even managed to withstand the vacuum of outer space.
There is no outer boundary to the mind-blowing properties of raw nature.