And he spake onto them: Readeth this!

In Grand Theft Auto, no misbehavior is so grievous that it can’t be washed away after a quick trip to the police station or the hospital. That conceit works well for gameplay, but it hinders the narrative by suggesting a world in which even the gravest actions have no meaning. How could we buy Lady Macbeth’s “Out, damn’d spot! Out, I say!” if she could have just headed to the nearest Pay’n’Spray?

→ Escapist magazine, Brendan Main: Fall of the house Bellic

We’re pleased to announce a new addition to our shop, in the shape of If Drawings Were photographs – the first ever zine published by It’s Nice That. The brainchild of designer Rob Matthews and Illustrator Tom Edwards, put simply – “Tom gave drawings to Rob and Rob tried to make them into photographs.”

→ It’s Nice That, Alex: If drawings were photographs Via Wakaba

Avatar Machine is a wearable system which replicates the aesthetics and visuals of third person gaming, allowing the user to view themselves as a virtual character in real space via a head mounted interface. The system potentially allows for a diminished sense of social responsibility, and could lead the user to demonstrate behaviors normally reserved for the gaming environment. Via Jonas

This product was originally designed to be: Impossible for child to suck the thumb while wearing, Unrestrictive and fun to wear, Extremely difficult for child to remove. The function of the Thumb Guard is to prevent the seal made around the thumb with the child’s lips. Without this seal, there can be no suction, which is the main source of pleasure in sucking the thumb.

→ Amazon.com: Stop Thumb Sucking with Thumb Guard Kit for One Hand

Foundlings.

I know books are supposed to be old media, but there’s something that feels futuristic about holding this one. It’s imperfect, disposable, personal. I can scribble on it and dog-ear it, and read it lying down. It cost around $10 and arrived in less than a week.

→ Emmet Connolly printed the web: Instapaper

In the process of pasteurizing, juice is heated and stripped of oxygen, a process called deaeration, so it doesn’t oxidize. Then it’s put in huge storage tanks where it can be kept for upwards of a year. It gets stripped of flavor-providing chemicals, which are volatile. When it’s ready for packaging, companies such as Tropicana hire flavor companies such as Firmenich to engineer flavor packs to make it taste fresh.

→ You can stop shelling out for that “not from concentrate” juice now. Q&A with Alissa Hamilton.

→ Good use of multiple exposures and merging of images: Peter Funch

→ Designers, photographers and a whole other bunch of neat people: Design Industry News & Discussion.

→ In Swedish: Stipendier från Publicistklubben

→ Also in Swedish: Stipendier från Svenska Fotografers Förbund.

→ Illustrator Daniel Dociu: Futuristic cityscapes.

→ BLDGBLOG interviews Daniel Dociu: Game/Space.

Warning Signs of Covert Eavesdropping or Bugging.

Many things in the world have not been named; and many things, even if they have been named, have never been described. One of these is the sensibility — unmistakably modern, a variant of sophistication but hardly identical with it — that goes by the cult name of “Camp.”

→ Susan Sontag, Notes on Camp.

A couple of hours passed. “Then, after I got a sandwich and came out of the store—da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da! ” Gravy told me later, mimicking the sound of gunfire. “The only thing I remember is falling, and knowing that I’m shot—just don’t know where. It’s not like, when you get shot, ‘Oh, I got shot here.’ Nah. You know you hit, so your mind frame is—you pumped, your adrenaline is going. I reach my hand over, and I see I’m bleeding.

→ The New Yorker: Ben McGrath, Where hip-hop lives.

For those who know, this is the open secret: War is exciting. Sometimes I was in awe of this, and sometimes I felt low and mean for loving it, but I loved it still. Even in its quiet moments, war is brighter, louder, brasher, more fun, more tragic, more wasteful. More. More of everything. And even then I knew I would someday miss it, this life so strange. Today the war has distilled to moments and feelings, and somewhere in these memories is the reason for the wistfulness.

→ Esquire: Brian Mockenhaupt, I miss Iraq. I miss my gun. I miss my war.

That was in the Year of Our Lord nineteen hundred and ninety-three. And then, the Years of Our Lord passed. I went to bed every night looking at that shot, I woke up every morning looking at that shot, every single day. For over 10 years.

→ Terry Rosso: Lens Magic.