Identify the rhytmic sounds, win candy.

Up on a hill near Röda Sten in Gothenburg someone had pitched a tent and played music. A couple DJ’s were taking turns at the turntables, playing one tune each. It was some sort of dubsteppish stuff that I really liked and recorded for later indentification. ID the tracks and I’ll send you a piece of Swedish candy. When was the last time you got such an offer? Never, that’s when! Make me proud, Internet!

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If you’d like to send me the tracks I’ll squeel in delight like a boyscout with a bloodied pocketknife who’s just gutted a baby deer. As an added bonus, why not recommend other good dubstep stuff to make everyone happy.

I know for a fact that baby Jesus is watching and will reward you with golden showers and myrr.

techno_roda_sten_kille_i_hatt

The Pirate eBay and other scenarios.

I’ve been trying to get my head around 3D printing. In the futuristic sense of the word it’s the manufacture of a hot dog complete with relish and mustard. It’s such a transformative technology that I’d like to get in on the game somehow, not only read about it. This is an attempt to put stuff onto paper. Pardon the rambling.

Let’s divide the making of things into five mechanical categories, and see if something useful comes of it: Additive, subtractive, shaping, combining. (Molding might be the fifth, or perhaps it’s of the combination order where the object that is being created is the mold, which combined with steel or what–have–you causes the negative object. Ignore for now.)

The combination of things requires things to combine, the shaping of things requires a material that is malleable besides whatever other qualities you need, the subtractive production (milling, cutting, etc.) need a hunk of material that is bigger than your end result. The additive model allows you to work in multiple materials, at once combining things for whatever function you need them to fill. Today this mostly means a working ball bearing or a surgical knee replacement. This is the technical side of things.

FJARR_AB_conteiner

Some are predicting wholesale piracy, and once the technology becomes cheap enough eBay will surely be flooded by original copies just as The Pirate Bay will be flooded by CAD/CNC program instructions. The joke isn’t lost on anyone that the name of The Pirate Bay will rub off on the auction site once everyone with a RepRap or MakerBot gets up to speed with replicating materials. And why not?

If the remix and DIY approach will hold true for personal fabrication (fabbing) then you’ll be forced to shift gears from “is it what it says it is?” when you relate to objects, to “is it what I want?” Trending and social constructions will still exist because we’re social critters, but they will have to take something else into account (another quality or justification, however arbitrary) and branding of objects might become less relevant.

Michelangelo’s David has been 3D scanned by Stanford and they’re limiting access to the the model, but how long before it’ll be pirated? Once you have an accurate replica next to your garden gnome, does the original matter at all? (If being original is the bees knees, why so afraid of copies? If it’s only a matter of making money by selling the reproduction rights, the losing battle that the music, film and game industries has fought the past ten years is on the doorstep of museums and industrial designers.) Home fabbing is killing IKEA!

We’ll manufacture and use stuff as if it was real but with no sense of “real” left. It’s the post-scarcity of technocrats combined with a corruption of the traditional understanding of materials. It’s a change in volume and sheer numbers, if not in the way we approach things. Material nihilism maybe?

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Above is the latter part of the end keynote that Bruce Sterling gave at the ReBoot conference. [via Warren Ellis] It’s his take on where we’re heading ideologically and how we can find value in life. He does sound like a whiny old fart part of the time, and there’s little love for his audience, but it’s an articulate rant and I’m not one to scoff at someone who thinks about these things for a living.

Sterlings notion that we ought to get a proper bed and a proper chair make sense if what is left of the objects are our use of them and if the value they provide are somehow measurable by us in a non-arbitrary way. (“Being well rested” is a concept we understand. Extend this to more arbitrary objects and you’ll notice that we have few things that actually carry meanining in the sense that an object in and of itself carries meaning.)

Jamais Cascio referenced the speech with specific regard to how Sterlings ideas relate to 3D printing. Cascio draws parallells to what Postscript and LaserWriter did for desktop publishing in the mid 80’s. (Hollow, bold, underline, cursive Chicago, anyone?) The article is The Desktop Manufacturing Revolution and it’s a good overview of the technology and some of it’s implications.

tvattmedel

We should stop saying ‘Is this a good thing or a bad thing?’ and start saying, ‘What’s going on?’. It’s a quote attributed to Marshall McLuhan by Liss Jeffrey and it’s a sensible suggestion.

While teaching future architects at Chalmers I was impressed by their approach to materials and created objects. It is as much a part of their problem as it’s a boon, but they all treated their models as incidental to the process of architecture. The objects didn’t hold any value except what they said of the overall project.

This is in line with how rapid prototyping has been used up to now, and also diametrically opposed to how many artists approach objects. Technically speaking, an artist can’t take a shit without creating an objet d’art, so we tend to guard whatever physical objects we produce. (Piece of art and piece of shit is interchangable in some peoples minds, but even for them it’s the piece that is important.)

But where an architect might view the printed 3D object as a stepping stone to a real object, fabbing offers a rejection of specificity of objects all together – i.e. a knife at your throat bears meaning on your life and well being, but it’s not really important what kind of knife it is. In this hyperbolic example you would do well to ask the McLuhan question: Is the thing at my throat sharp enough to harm me?

I’m being silly and perhaps these ideas don’t apply to all situations, so let’s focus on art and 3D printing. First of all, we’ll have the meta art: “Ooh, you’ve carved a small replica in wood of something that you randomly generated in your 3D printer to make a point about originality. Good for you!” It’s unavoidable and to a certain degree interesting for the debate and theory (I made my Virtual Photography series because I wanted to make a point about virtual worlds and photography) but it’s the next step that will be interesting: The abandon of material sacrament.

audi_hos_jonas

Artist scientists, spefically mathematicians, have experimented with rapid prototyping and sculpture. They are in the odd position of celebrating the pure æsthetics of mathematical shapes and concepts. Carlo H. Séquin is a physicist who has collaborated with artists and sculptors who work with pure form. His article – Rapid prototyping: a 3d visualization tool takes on sculpture and mathematical forms – is the only artistic reference Wikipedia has on 3D printers, and it has very little to do with modern art. The area seems ripe for experimentation.

What I recently wrote about ARGs (Alternative Reality Games) seems applicable to 3D printers. You get an excuse and a means to remake the world in your own imagination or buy into someone elses, literally. Interpretation and allegory – traditionally the priviledge of priests and artists – is now a technological issue, not a metaphysical one: If you can print anything that money can buy you might as well print money. Fake money buying fake things in a fake world; Truly a map on a 1:1 scale if there ever was one.

cyclist_road_tunisia

If it wasn’t for the inertia of societies the end of this process would find us in a copy of Second Life where we’re all pointing at colourful things and going “meh”. As it stands, this process of virtualising maybe isn’t about shifting the way we manufacture and appreciate things, but will help us remove the clutter – take away everything that isn’t interesting and special and super and reveal the social superstructure onto which the objects were fixed; That designer lamp you liked is only a Google Warehouse click away. (Much in line with what Sterling is suggesting, but not because of an appreciation of craftsmanship or purposeful living but because it’s meaningless in a literal sense.)

Besides the artisan or mundane stuff that we for one reason or another love, objects are deconstructed in a way we should recognise, that of Platonic idea and instance. (But here the idea of an idea isn’t a reductionist problem but the foundation for discussion, the new modernity as Nicolas Bourriaud put it in a recent lecture at Valand.) It’s as if the object becomes stretched out in two directions until you have the plastic, wood and metal in one hand, and an idea or social category in the other. Ceci n’est pas une pip and so on.

I might be lacking whatever gene it is that makes some of the bicycle people not as enthusiastic about my boom-bike as I am. I see it as an instance of a bike, an embodiment of features and designs and materials that under other cicumstanced would be a fancy Bianchi. So when I see the titanium rapid prototyping that Arcam offers I imagine that I could recreate my beater as it was built. The object is incidental, what we imbue it with is not.

You could argue that I am a vulgar person with no appreciation for workmanship. And you would be right.

You are a screw; A spirally inclined plane.

The Manual tells us that in the beginning the Builder decreed six fundamental Machines. These are his six aspects, and all we do we must do with the Six. We need no other machines. I believe this with all my heart. I do. And yet sometimes I seem to intuit the existence of a seventh Machine, hovering like a blasphemous ghost just beyond apprehension. There is something wrong with me, and I don’t know what it is.

→ William Shunn: Inclination.

Although we refer to the six simple machines there is really only three – the lever, the wheel & axle, and the inclined plane. The wedge, the pulley, and the screw are modifications of the first three.

→ Balmoral Science Department: Simple Machines.

A simple machine is a mechanical device that changes the direction or magnitude of a force. In general, they can be defined as the simplest mechanisms that use mechanical advantage (also called leverage) to multiply force. A simple machine uses a single applied force to do work against a single load force

→ Wikipedia: Simple machine.

18arsfesten_sthlm

She knows what she likes.

My mom isn’t as sentimental as I thought she’s be. She recently moved away from the place where she’d lived the past 24 years, and took the opportunity to trash paintings and sculptures that previously were cherished as valuable objects of beauty and tokens of love. “Aaw, did I hurt your feelings? You’re a grown man and I can’t be expected to keep all this crap!” It took some work to convince her that the heavy raku chalice/ashtray that I’d gifted her ten years ago was worth keeping; I had dug the clay out from planet earth myself and built the oven over days and weeks before that piece was made! I think she tossed it while I wasn’t watching.

Her inner critic manifested in tossing the potatoe-print oil painting of a tree I made a couple of years ago, something I was utterly ok with. I mean, there’s a limit to the motherly indulgence.

Also, she’s always hated the comissioned painting of her home town that’s been hanging in the living room, and took the opportunity of cutting it in half, keeping the part she liked. That antenna annoyed her to no end.

There’s an anecdote about a painter who sold a painting and later showed up at the buyers house and start touching up his work. The buyer goes “WTF!” to which the artist replies “I’m not done yet.” My mom has wished that the artists would show up on her front step with a saw for the past fifteen years. I was glad to help.

Update, tofu, Michael Jackson

This summer has been odd. I’m enjoying sunshine for a change! Just over the weekend, an underwater photo session was followed by a Michael Jackson tribute evening, and I got up in the morning to make my own tofu (piece of cake!) and then went to a barbeque to meet nice peoples. I have what can be described as “a tan,” ruining my usual summer pasttime as a white-balance card for RAW photography. I don’t know what is happening, but I like it.

Having spent the whole day looking for parts to my beater bike – “throwing good money after bad” comes to mind – I’m caffeinating myself before a much needed WordPress update. If anything disappears or looks like poop on your system, please let me know; It’s very possible that the theme I designed for the blog will break into thousand little pieces, but Marlene Dietrich is holding me company, so all should be well.

Licenses: Responsibility and prerogatives.

Earlier today I got a PADI open water diver licence and hugs from my instructors. I can now rent scuba equipment and make an ass out of myself as far down as 18 meters. The diving course has been a blast so far, and with only one dive left I’m thinking about how I could apply myself to use these new skills I’ve aquired. If life was an RPG this would be the point where I tame a seahorse and find treasures, but I guess I’ll have to settle with something more pedestrian.

I usually don’t do things because they’re “fun,” so it’s an odd feeling spending a whole day wrestling wetsuits for no better reason than that you’ll get fifty minutes playtime with a school of jellyfish. But jellyfish are awesome and even the bewildered fish were adorable. How often are you hovering above your lawn thinking about the texture of grass? Without drugs? Having fun is proving to be entertaining; I’ll try harder to find some more.

The fact that I haven’t become fanatic about this might be a something good; Perhaps one can enjoy diving recreationally instead of smothering a baby hobby with nerd obsession?

Even though I’ve had my drivers licence for eight months, I still tell people that I’ve just gotten it. It’s true enough relative to my age, and it certainly feels like just the other day that I fooled the instructor long enough for him to approve me as a driver. By now I have more hours behind me and feel more confident on the road, but there’s still a sensation of newness that makes me volounteer to drive drunk friends around town.

The first time anything drive related is something to remember; First tank filling, changing a broken bulb, switching tires, running a red light, overtaking another car. I cherish these experiences because they are attributes of modern man that I’ve had no part of except as a spectator; It’s what YLNT are discussing in their Man School episode (well, they’re “poking fun at” more than “discussing”) and each such thing that I do is yet another childish testicle dropping.

The reason I bring this up is because I got a parking ticket earlier today. I had borrowed Petters car to drive myself to the diving school, and misread the roadsigns. A parking attendent was up at 3 am just to ticket me. Yesterday I would never have thought that I’d actually get a parking ticket, and thought that parking attendents were doing a good job in providing incentive for alternative means of transportation. At seven in the morning I was less appreciative and swore over the peglegged fucktard who was robbing me.

Barely audible over my swearing was the squishy sound of another testicle settling into its’ adult position.

Closure. Sea-fairing life. Birthday. Bike!

The other day, while helping a friend move out from the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, I was wondering how I would have reasoned about dividing up stuff. It’s never occured to me that stuff like this would come up (which is telling of how experienced I am with relationships) outside of movies where a couple that are breaking up bicker over record collections. Your material possessions don’t so much possess you as they socially glue you to your surroundings; Stuff as interaction manifested relationships in itself, or somesuch.

–I bought this jar of pesto and by God I’m taking it! Oh, and this water heater that you bought only after breaking mine? I’m trashing it by accident, fuck you!

The only thing we trashed was an oven form that I dropped a bed frame on. Ah yes, the spoils of war and love.

Midsummer was spent in the lovely company of friends, and my birthday was spent on a boat with Anna & Jan and an engine that only fired on one cylinder and gave up the ghost next to the industrial dry docks on the shitty side of the river. Improvised team building, as it were. After poking and swearing at the engine for half an hour, we called Janne who was all manly and stuff, actually managing to fix the engine well enough to get us to an emergency port. My contribution to our efforts was limited to sunbathing and being a human fender.

(Before you ask: Yes, I do keep tabs on who forgot my birthday. You are on a passive agressive shit list.)

I’ve spent the past weeks learning how to scuba, working on my Polish tan, doing some freelance web stuff and buying a bike. And even though diving is great fun, I love my bike silly. There are many like it, but this one is mine! I’ve never had a bike this fast and I love me the commuting and silent cruising down dark streets.

True, the first thing that happened was that the front brake gave up on me – unsettling since it’s the only brake – but it’s given me reason to learn about fixing stuff, something I’m usually only good at in theory, or rather “theoretical theory,” meaning I know how to use Google. (which I call “knowledge aquisition” in my CV)

The bike is a frankenstein of different parts put together by Martin, and I posted a description + pictures on Happymtb in order try to identify it. I haven’t received much help in regard to identification, but plenty suggestions on which wheels I could get and how much a paintjob would cost. People I’ve asked seem to lean towards that it’s a French 70’s cheapo bike; Looking at old Peugeot models they have some similar details. If you have any hints, I’d appreciate your input.

Bloggers that read together, stay together.

What makes you feel less bored soon makes you into an addict. What makes you feel less vulnerable can easily turn you into a dick. And the things that are meant to make you feel more connected today often turn out to be insubstantial time sinks — empty, programmatic encouragements to groom and refine your personality while sitting alone at a screen.

→ KungFuGrippe.com, Merlin Mann: Better.

There are a shit-ton of grenades still rolling around on the floor right now, and I’m one of those crazy fringe types who publicly, ardently hopes that at least one of them blows out a few load-bearing walls inside industries that are in overdue need of a bottom-up redesign. No matter what.

→ 43folders.com, Merlin Mann: Free Me.

Somebody somewhere got the raw end of the deal: they gave their work for my “work”. They supported me by toiling for hours in the creation of resources, and I copied their actions faithfully in pretense of doing the sense. It has an almost cargo-cult quality to it, with thousands of people everyday going through the motions of “work” in the belief that resources will rain from the sky. And they do, which is perhaps the most interesting thing about how western society ir organized.

→ Metafilter: Why work?

Surround yourself with people who are jealous of your time, disrespect your writing and undermine you at every turn. If possible, marry one and have kids.

→ Zed Lopez: How to Fail at Writing.

I’ll bet you’re the kind of guy that would fuck a person in the ass and not even have the goddam common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I’ll be watching you.

→ IMDB, memorable quotes: Full Metal Jacket.

Another word for euphemism.

Spritz cologne immediately above where the grilled cheese is made. This gives the cook a more aromatic and pleasant cooking experience.

→ From the Love Letters section of the Boston Globe: Allergic to “grilled cheese”

If you’re dead-set on deep-throating this guy, and he’s dead-set on being deep-throated, then the first step is for him to be a gentleman and cut it out with the facefucking.

→ Ask.Metafilter is as usual less prudish: His cock barely fits in my mouth; how can I give better head?

The tangy metallic is iron from the blood. Then there is the almond nutty context probably based on mucus. And the lightly salted melon. And the durian flavor from dead cells. Any of which can come to the fore based on diet and hormone progression.

→ Ask.Metafilter: Connoisseurs of Cunnilingus: What does it taste like to you?

Charlie crept into Terry and Penny’s first-floor bedroom and fired at them until his gun jammed. He handed the gun to Waid, who fixed the .22 and fired two more shots. They left the room, and then Charlie came back and cut Penny’s throat to make sure she was dead.

→ Pamela Colloff, Texas Monthly: Why did a small-town girl have her family brutally murdered?

Sengamalam, one of the boys, told me that more than 2,000 soldiers had been involved in the round-up of our 22-strong unit, and had dumped the bodies of those who died in the open air. My mind swum with images of Ajanthi and Muralie, their bodies being scavenged by dogs.

→ The Telegraph: Life as a female Tamil Tiger guerilla relived by one of first female soldiers.

Today, my mom’s will was read to the rest of the family. I helped my mom write it a couple years ago, and I was to get funds to pay off school loans. She revised it and put in a note saying I was to get nothing because I was gay. The executor read it out loud. My mom was the only one who knew.

→ Fuck my life: user 2796619