I want one of those
(videos of self-reconfiguring robots, again from jwz)
Neil Hopcroft
A digital misfit
“Welcome to Darwin!”
Squish a fish between my toes, try not to step on any bones
Theres something so right about driving through the sleepy villages of Suffolk with the acapella version of “Forward to death” on full volume (“I can’t stand this way of life, I can’t stand your attitude”). Streets which, incidentally, seemed to be teeming with ambulances. Either everyones waited until spring before getting injured or they’re emptying out another of the local hospitals.
Sudbury is a small unremarkable Suffolk town. Just another slice of rural life, redeemed somewhat by a good (relatively) record and music shop. Theres a market square, which has now been taken over by an incredible ‘mine is bigger than yours’ one-way system (a system which seems to have permeated the entire town) and the inevitable car parking. And a few odds and ends of interesting buildings from the times when the market was important to the town.
I found what I’d expected to be a greasy spoon, down by the bus station, opposite the job centre – its got all the right proximities – only to find it run by a couple of turks who’d dropped out of the late night kebab market to sell surprisingly ungreasy chips and coffee that actually tasted a little of coffee. But the minor improvements in food hadn’t done much for the clientelle, who were, it seems, all rather concerned about whether they could afford a plate of chips…
Leonard Nimoys full body project – Not Worksafe, infact, not at all safe.
Its so small
The mini arrived today, I’d expected it to be small, but this is /SMALL/….now all I need is a USB keyboard and then I can work it.
Book review: Tunnel Visions, Christopher Ross
“Journeys of an Underground Philosopher”
Though short this is an interesting book. It describes the life and thoughts of a traveller turned station announcer. He mixes mundane snippets of life on the tube with deep thoughts about the structure of society he sees through its expression in those muddling their way through the underground system.
It is structured as a series of paragraphs, each encapsulating a thought, event or idea, each standing alone without need for support from those around it, however when read in sequence (how else was I going to read it?) they come together to form a coherent stream, a story.
The most interesting parts of the book, from my point of view, are those where he exposes his thoughts on the time he spent in Japan. While these experiences rarely intersect with my own, they all seem poignant, like he understands the people far better than I ever could. This kind of understanding, surely, must work just as well when turned against our own people, only I’m too close to be able to see it.
A philosophy book written by a real person. Worth the time.
“Enterprising hackers have discovered that because the new motion sensor returns reasonably accurate measurements to Mac OS X, it can be used to do some cool tricks, from realigning an image in a window so it always points up, no matter what angle you hold the laptop at, to controlling what’s playing in iTunes — rock the machine backward to go to the next track, forward to play the previous one….”a cooler thing than any game or technology itself.””
Apple reinvent the dynamic browser as an accidental spin off of a hard disk protection technology.
Realtime earthquake information – that seems (to my untrained eye) quite a lot of quakes for a 24 hour period – any Tokyo based people care to comment whether its been especially wobbly over there lately?
Value lager and names on the bridgepost
Theres something fascinating about infrastructure, concrete bridges spanning the canalled river. The drivers on the A14 above know nothing of what is down here, its just more road, with railings instead of embankments.
Its full of history, if you’re looking for it. An urban history, made by guys who didn’t even notice they were doing it, angry people wanting to make a mark, to feel important. “Great Girton 2004”. Its a constant battle, highways agencies blotting out those words that might be offensive to the passing motorist, ignoring anything that can’t be seen from the respectability of the road – river users don’t matter, or maybe we’re less easily offended?
I wonder who Nancy, Shelly, Rachel were. What kind of act did they have to perform to get their name added to the list? The list is rotting now, covered by later generations, but you can still make out their names, red against the concrete.
And its not just me. As I was leaving there was a guy taking photos of the tags, recording, before they too disappear.