RIP SLVR

I finally caved in and bought a Blackberry, and am excited to spend the next 3-4 days tinkering with it and to have it be a complete distraction while I'm finishing my thesis work. However, I'm a little sad that I can't use my SLVR anymore. It's just sitting here on my desk, powered-down and deactivated. When the Verizon guy "went in back" to transfer the contact list information in the store today, I felt a little guilty, like I was having a dog put down or something.

"Because I'm a Penguin!"

Dylan's Voice

Bob Dylan is releasing his 800th album this week, and the anticipation has fueled a brief round of Dylan revisiting for me over the last few days, most notably Nashville Skyline and Tell Tale Signs. One of the most remarkable aspects, at least to me, of Dylan's career arc is his voice. Not the "voice of a generation," but his voice, literally. In 1969's Skyline, Dylan's voice was of course, youthful, a bit nasally, and seemed fresh with ideas and lyrics that were well ahead of their time. In Signs--a bootleg round-up of his most recent works--his voice is gnarled, almost corpse-like, and yet, still seems ahead of the curve by leaps and bounds. His voice is, and has always been, his ultimate vehicle for delivering his unique prose, and although old age and death are slowly creeping up on him physically, they can't touch what's in his mind. "Prolific" can't begin to describe what he's done--or has yet to do--artistically.

"Changeling"

I guess my one lingering question is this: why wasn't there anyone besides a dentist and schoolteacher (as if they weren't enough) who could confirm that this wasn't really her son? If this hard-to-believe facet actually runs true with historical events, then Changeling is quite a powerful commentary on the times, especially in terms of female disempowerment and political corruption. But I suppose I'm always skeptical when it comes to Hollywood depicting "real life" events.

Twitter as ball-point pen

Even the online, architectural wunderkammer that is BLDGBLOG is jumping in in defense of Twitter these days. Here, Geoff Manaugh comments on an obvious technological transition that Twitter has wrought:

First, on the most obvious level, Twitter needs to be differentiated from what people write on Twitter. The fact that so many people now use Twitter as a public email system, or as a way to instant-message their friends in front of other people, is immaterial; Twitter is a note-taking technology, end of story. You take short-form notes with it, limited to 140 characters.

Second, the comparison I often make here is with ball-point pens. Imagine a world where everyone uses typewriters: they write novels, manifestos, historical surveys, and so on, but they do it all using typewriters. Now the ball-point pen comes along. People use it to write down grocery lists and street addresses and recipes and love notes. What is this awful new technology? the literary users of typewriters say. Ball-point pens are the death of humanism.

I like the idea of Twitter as "note-taking" technology. When I'm taking notes on a lecture, or jotting down ideas onto the Post-it notes that clutter my desk, I feel constrained. But never once have I wished for a bigger Post-it note or a lightning fast hand. I know the limits of these "technologies," and gladly work within them because they make things easier. The reasoning behind Tweets may derive from a different source--shortened links to this blog, inquiries to a vast general public, comments to other users throughout the community--but the notion of conciseness and brevity lure in the same qualities as writing down a phone number or address on the cover of a magazine that is lying on your coffee table.

Sprintcam v3

1,000 frames per second...I love the Koosh:

"Terminus"

If you have 8 minutes, and want to watch what is in my opinion a disturbing and artsy short film on anxiety and fear, then have at "Terminus" (via hope and glory):

Twitter Eavesdropping

Kottke raises some good points about the seemingly redundant and inane messages of Twitter:

So when you run across a Twitter message like "we had chicken sandwitches & pepsi for breakfast" from someone who has around 30 followers, what's really so odd about it? It's just someone telling a few friends on Twitter what she might normally tell them on the phone, via email, in person, or in a telegram. If you aren't one of the 30 followers, you never see the message...and if you do, you're like the guy standing next to a conversing couple on the subway platform.

The bottom line is that Twitter is just another vehicle for conversation. As a counter-point, I think there are a lot of people out there who do care about these types of Tweets, as long as they are bathed in interesting rhetoric or metaphor. Twitter can make the random conversations of everyday life into mini-literature that is sometimes worth eavesdropping on. That's part of the attraction of Twitter: the reaction that you can get from telling someone (or everyone) that you just went for a run in a new pair of shoes and it was like running on sea sponges.

Subprime

US housing market animation:

The Brain-Twitter Interface

We often hypothecially speak of the day when we will be able to just think something onto a computer screen. Well, it appears that day is here, and UW-Madison and Twitter are leading the way. This technology might not be new, but integrating Twitter provides a fresh angle of application. And, while this video shows that this technology is far from efficient or pragmatic (I'd rather not have to wear the cap), the potential is alarmingly exciting (via fimoculous):

Biomedical Art III

Liquids and bubbles

Medeski Martin & Wood - "Radiolarians II"

Much like it's predecessor, Radiolarians II grabs listeners' attention with Chris Wood's bass. However, instead of stringing you along with a few minutes of tinkering and noodling, you're hit with it immediately head-on. I really like how he introduced himself the last time around, the way he just dropped in and grabbed the groove on "First Light" in the midst of Medeski and Martin's improvisational mannerisms. But this time on "Flat Tires," there's no build-up and no suspense. Chris Wood is just there, playing some of the most physical and intense bass that we've ever heard in the MMW context. Though he comes in last in the namesake pecking order, he's defined their sound over the last few years, and has swollen MMW further than any 3-piece jazz outfit should be allowed to swell. It's completely evident in "Flat Tires," as well as in the brooding "Junkyard." These are the tracks that open Radiolarians II, and they solely belong to Chris Wood and his bass.

John Medeski and Billy Martin are, of course, still involved. Medeski's signature keys and piano are there at every turn--especially in "Amish Pinxtos"--and Martin's alter-ego--illlyB--lends his breakbeat drumming in more than one place ("ijiji" and "Chasen vs Suribachi"). That fiery avant garde insight and chemistry that has rocketed MMW since their early days in Brooklyn is as stellar as ever among the three. In fact, this is probably one of the most diverse and well-rounded MMW albums to date. But, I keep going back to Chris Wood and those first two tracks. For me, that's where the heart and soul of Radiolarians II lies.

Facebook as memoir

Alan Jacobs comments on Facebook as the modern day form of the memoir in the midst of the shifting, displaced lifestyles of today's youth:

But here’s what I’m wondering: does Facebook make self-narration less compelling, less necessary? In a much talked-about essay, Peggy Orenstein has speculated that Facebook denies to young people “an opportunity for insight, for growth through loneliness”; it makes it harder for them “to establish distance from their former selves, to clear space for introspection and transformation.” Maybe it also eases — or hides from us — our displacements, and creates a false sense of seamlessness in lives that have actually undergone significant ruptures.

Or perhaps it does what it promises to do: offer a real sense of seamlessness, allow us to shift our lives in innumerable ways without ever leaving anyone or anything vital behind. We’ll see.

I can see it both ways, but in a "quantity versus quality" sense. Facebook certainly allows us to leave massive trails of friends, followers, updates, and images of our lives from an infinite number of contexts. However, the further we establish those networks,--and here's where I disagree with the Orenstein citation--the further we are forced to drift from our former selves because our attention is too focused on building networks "in the now," rather than insightfully and critically thinking about personal transformations that have occurred in the past. That's where the idea of Facebook as memoir fails; it simply dilutes itself away eventually, and all you are left with is a skeletal framework of happenings and events.

Jponathan Utrecht

If you were an NPR host, do you know what your name would be? It's simple: take your middle initial and place it anywhere in your first name, followed by the name of the smallest foreign city you've visited. What's yours?

(Utrecht is a small town outside of Amsterdam, and I've decided the "J" is silent)

Dirt Dress - "Perdido en la Suciedad"

5 songs in under 18 minutes. Typical EP length, yes, but what differentiates Dirt Dress' EPs from other micro-works is that Perdido en la Suciedad fills a small niche--much like last year's Theme Songs EP--that despite being small in length and stature, equivocates a much larger concept. This concept is shrouded in two key factors: 1) linear blues, and 2) hybrid rock/honky-tonk. A strange combination, but this mix really elevates these 18 minutes of music into something that impresses, rather than something that is merely playing itself from beginning to end. Towards the end of "Untitled," you get the feeling that you've just been exposed to an audition of sorts. It's something you've never really heard before, but the short length allows you to pop in a few more listens, not because you can, but because you want to. You are intrigued.

I still can't pinpoint the exact qualities that make this little ditty addictive, but I suppose you could start with the constant toe-tapping that occurs during the rhythmic ascensions and howls of "An Introduction." Similarly, "Go to Sleep" induces something like a blues-trance by avoiding typical refrains and latching onto a linear recycling of guitar. You probably don't need to go any further than that. Perdido doesn't take you in a million directions or bog you down with a sophisticated view of the blues or honky-tonk genre; it keeps you in the unique place it presents you with and keeps you there smoothly and generously for an entire 18 minutes. This is music for a crowded bar where the lager goes down smooth. The minute this comes out of the jukebox, everyone will be having a good time.

"Shot in the Back of the Head"

Moby is apparently still making music, but I have to say, I like how this song sounds like it was recorded backwards during the intro...

Gigamesh

Who doesn't want free remix downloads of Radiohead's "Everything in its Right Place" and Animal Collective's "My Girls?" (thanks, 88nine)

Will you be here tomorrow?

Typically, I don't show/link to offensive or NSFW material on my blog, but since this video is literally about being not safe at work, is apparently a real public service announcement, and because I often use high pressure gas tanks at work and like slasher films, I had to post it (via cynical-c):

"Hoping for the Best"

Dirt Dress has a new EP out, which should be short and sweet like this:

Trending topics

I'm really enjoying the trending topics that have been added to the Twitter homepage. Twitter has certainly become a big enough online community that not only will most major outbreaks of news and themes be touched on ("Phil Spector"; "Easter"), but also acute news that may last only a moment, news that thousands of people nonetheless deem worthy to comment on (for example, "Reed Johnson" after robbing Prince Fielder of a grand slam with an incredible catch). It's interesting to digitally watch the shifts in information, as well as where human focus is currently directed in real-time.

Graffiti

I noticed some new graffiti on the I94 Interchange this morning, right off the Jackson Street exit ramp. What's amazing is not that someone was able to stand on the interstate long enough to create this work of "art" without being seen or caught, but that graffiti--specifically text graffiti--is always in the same handwriting, or "font" if you will. No matter where you are or what time period you are living in, graffiti always looks the same: slightly 3-D, bubble-style letters which are for the most part unreadable. Why can't these vandals change things up once and a while and maybe go with a Times New Roman or Comic Sans font?

"Moon"

After the Sci-Fi success of Sunshine, it only seems fitting to put out a movie about the moon:

Humcrush - "Rest at World's End"

When you press play after uploading Rest at World's End to your iPod, the first sounds you hear are a burst of snare and a snippet of teetering electronics that seem to be cut and sliced from a much larger piece of music. You get the sense of something that is being continued, something that is very fast, very busy, and uncatchable. It's like being tossed in the middle of a dark maze with the knowledge that there are cyborg-timberwolves pursuing you at every turn; it's razor-sharp free jazz nipping at your heels. This opening track--"Stream" to be exact--pushes you into this state of confusion so suddenly, that there is barely time to register the crisp (and safe) improvised free jazz that lies within it's mayhem. Only after a few listens can you find that underlying groove, but records such as these enjoying toying with those who engage.

World's End is Ståle Storløkken and Thomas Strønen's sophomore effort, and for me, the idea of robots and jazz has never been more clear. If that makes any sense. It's obviously an individual perception, but I really think that can be a clear metaphor for this music that is so wildly out-there and imaginative. To me, this album resonates around a number of different metallic and shiny-circuit themes, from the whispering frequencies of "Airport," to the magnetic gripes of "Hit." There's certain qualities there that mesh well with concept of artificial intelligence and all the other cool stuff that is shaping our world today. There's two human beings behind it, but no matter what the pace or mood, you always seem to find yourself in the machine. In this case, it's the free jazz that provides the framework for placing us there.

"Take Pills"

I've always thought of the last 3 minutes of this song as great driving music, but the visual layers presented here are making me think otherwise. Might be imprinted in my windshield from now on...

"We Own the Sky"

Millions of tiny light particles...

Lost luggage

isthisyourluggage.com is run by a guy who apparently buys lost airline luggage and posts photographs of it on the Web in an attempt to track down the owner. He claims it's a "weird, voyeuristic passion," but not as weird as "collecting stamps."

Insanity aside, I thought it might be tough to identify plain. black suitcases that millions of people might have, until I found out that you can click on each picture, and thus reveal the contents of the suitcases, all neatly laid out...

Flutter

"Watchmen"

They were right--the opening credits were worth the price of admission alone, and if you were going in expecting a superhero movie, you were sure to be disappointed. That was really the only feedback I had in mind while going to see Watchmen. I had no prior knowledge of the comic itself, and was looking forward to an unbiased viewing. Sometimes I wish we could approach more movies like that, without all the hype and anticipation. Maybe then we could really find out which movies are good, and not just a byproduct of "public" good. In any case, this is one of those movies; it succeeded without that hype.

Watchmen was stunning visual candy combined with a more humanistic rationale for the existence of the "superhero." It delved more into how these characters came into existence, rather than their fight against a villain, as well as their struggle to understand their limitations on "protecting the world." I liked that approach, because it wasn't as predictable, and gave a story-telling sense to the action embedded within. It also didn't try to floor you with the incredible action sequence--although there are a few--but rather, it constantly impressed you over the course of two and a half hours with subtle character features, and quick, slight-of-hand special effects.

Animal Hospital - "Memory"

Post-rock is one of those genre labels that gets thrown around quite a bit. It's almost like the panic label of genres that modern day music critics and enthusiasts quickly pin on what they can't understand or comprehend. Tortoise was primarily responsible for spearheading this movement--they certainly had music dorks scrambling for answers--and others have since followed. Certainly, post-rock exists as a valid entity in the musical universe, but I sometimes wonder whether it only serves to establish a hierarchy of influences under which these types of artists are categorized, rather than stand by itself in a record store. Animal Hospital's Memory is a case in point. There's not a post-rock elephant in the room when listening to this album; there's a giant Galapagos tortoise.

Now, I love Tortoise, and really like Memory. But what I'm trying to figure out is if Memory simply exists to extend the post-rock lineage of Tortoise. They sound remarkably similar at times, but due to the exotic and progressive nature of what post-rock supposedly sounds like, they are incredibly different. Memory doesn't quite have the conceptual cohesion of what Tortoise has been able to pull off, but they are all over the place in terms of what they hit the listener with: cutting guitar sequences, bass lines that sound like giant, plucked rubber bands, and hard-to-predict series of avant garde drumming (In fact, my favorite moment on the album occurs during the first 3 minutes of "...And Ever," when all these post-rock "factors" come together).

Thus, though this album is unique in its own right, it draws heavily on a blueprint that has already been mapped out. Is this a sign that post-rock belongs primarily to Tortoise? Or is the branching out just as valuable as the source? I'd like to think the later, because if Animal Hospital can at least trick me into thinking that the swells of "His Belly Burst" are theirs and theirs alone, I could live with that, because it's really quite pleasant to listen to.

3-D Snakes

Robert Hodgin discusses the physics of magnetic snakes (via kottke):

Guten Touch

Multi-touch display systems, soundtracked by Sigur Ros: