I guess I’m a little late to this, but Graph Racers is a pretty nifty concept. Take some graph paper, make a course, get at least 2 players, each with their own colored marker and have them race around the graph paper track.
I guess I’m a little late to this, but Graph Racers is a pretty nifty concept. Take some graph paper, make a course, get at least 2 players, each with their own colored marker and have them race around the graph paper track.
I nodded my head all the way through Austin Kleon’s “How to steal like an artist.”
Every new idea is just a mashup or a remix of previous ideas.
If there’s one takeaway for self-described non-creative people, it is that. Synthesize, combine, mash up what you already know, and then you’ll come away with something unique.
If you like The Fray, Five For Fighting, Yellow Card or any other pop-punkish band, you’ll enjoy The Script and their Science & Faith album. Simple hooks, beats and melodies work with O’Donoghue’s earnest lyrics. At times, there’s a sense of urgency (closer, Exit Wounds) or bombast (Walk Away, which features B.o.B) or contemplation (Nothing).
Wright Thompson, for ESPN, tells of India, Cricket, the Cricket World Cup and how life and culture intersect.
I turn to Rahul. “Do Indians still love the actual game of cricket?”
There’s a pause.
“It’s a delicate sort of question,” he says.
Another pause.
“The thing about Indians’ love for cricket is a lot of it is having something to support India at,” he says. “A lot of it is celebrity. People in love with [team captain M.S.] Dhoni instead of the actual sport. It happens all the time. In the past five years, you find that matches not featuring India don’t draw crowds. It does seem on some level the love is not for the sport itself but for some of the things it stands for.”
Cricket is everywhere. It’s on 24/7. It’s on red carpets with Bollywood bombshells and in corporate boardrooms. But the more it is, the less it is.
“We’ve been so neutered by cricket now,” Rahul says. “There’s so much of it. It’s reached a point where you can be oblivious to it. Indian fans now just watch India.”
Karen Russell’s
Swamplandia! feels like a collection of short writing exercises that were combined to form some sense of a novel. The prose is colorful, descriptive and imaginative, so much it reaches eccentric, teetering on contrived to tell a story of innocence lost.
The Bigtree clan lives on an island within the Ten Thousand Islands, running a theme park, Swamplandia!, showcasing live alligator performances. Twelve year old Ava Bigtree narrates portions of the book with a voice reminiscent of Scout, from To Kill A Mockingbird. Ava tells of the death of her mother, Hilola, to cancer that causes the eventual breakdown of the family. Ava’s sixteen year old sister, Osceola, deals with the death inward, finding a book of spells and begins to date a ghost and takes off to marry the ghost in the Underworld. Her father, whom she calls Chief, operates in grand fashion and hyperbole as if everything is fine, disappearing to the mainland to seek investors. Ava’s older brother, Kiwi, aware of the family’s financial circumstances, leaves to get a job on the mainland at a rival theme park.
About a third of the way through the book, Russell switches perspective from Ava’s innocent first person voice, to a third person observer of Kiwi’s work at the World of Darkness. The novel then jumps back and forth between Ava and Kiwi, where Ava’s story descends into uncomfortable horror with a figure named Bird Man and Kiwi’s ascends unbelievably to becoming a pilot for a theme park attraction. Both lose their innocence of the world both emotionally, intellectually and physically.
Russell employs symbolism to some effect. Ava hatches a lone alligator, born scarlet red, that plays a crucial role with Bird Man and her own innocence. Osceola’s descent into depression is the Underworld, and The World of Darkness is Kiwi’s lack of knowledge.
All this builds to an unbelievable convergence of plot lines that ties up too well. Throughout, as a reader, you can’t help but know things that the characters don’t. At times this is clever, at times it feels cruel. Swamplandia! is an enjoyable read if you’re comfortable with a high wire act of colorful prose and gothic eccentricity.
A member of Chase Jarvis’ team writes up how they mounted iPads for an art installation:
The challenges: iPads are designed to be interactive, to move between apps. How do you keep people from messing with them, checking their email, pointing them at un-savory sites, or worse yet walking away with them entirely?
Taking a sliver of World War II history, cutting edge science in nanotechnology and biology, and a conspiracy of geopolitical consequences,
Spiral delivers a smart and tense techno-thriller.
Liam Connor, an Irish soldier who was a scientist during World War II, witnessed a horrific event in the Pacific Ocean, where the military took extreme measures to end a biological outbreak caused by the discovery of a lone Japanese sub whose crew died of mysterious reasons.
Sixty four years later, Connor, an accomplished professor at Cornell University, is found dead of an apparent suicide. Survived by his granddaughter Maggie, grandson Dylan and close colleague Jake Sterling, Liam leaves a series of clues, knowing something might happen to him. A brutal killer follows them, in search of what Liam knew of the incident in the Pacific. Meanwhile, Robert Dunne, a national security advisor hears of Connor’s death and immediately knows what his death is related to.
Spiral’s plot is well paced with a rising sense of tension. Seemingly random details tie in well throughout the book, and the interactions between characters and the characterization of the main characters is well done. Perhaps there isn’t nuance, but there is depth to Jake, Maggie and Robert and even a villain. McCuen isn’t afraid to kill off secondary characters in gory deaths, either, and surprisingly, the dialogue, for a debut novel in the thriller genre, flows well.
Underlying the plot, themes of political paranoia, xenophobia and the responsibility that comes with modern science come out.
Everything about Jawbone’s portable wireless speaker, the Jambox, is well done. The speaker itself, the included cables and charger, the ease of use, the carrying case and even the packaging all show serious thought in the design, presentation and experience of the product.
The Jambox comes in four different colors: black, red, grey and blue. Shaped like a rectangular brick, it measures approximately 2.25″ tall, 6″ long and 1.5″ deep and is a solid 12 ounces. The build feels solid, with quality materials–a rubberized top and bottom allow for a solid grip when holding and maintaining position on an uneven surface. The speaker’s grill is styled aluminum, where each color has a different design.
As for buttons, there are only four: the on off switch, increase volume, decrease volume and a function button. Pushing the function button once will cause a voice to speak the approximate battery life remaining. Very smart. Also, the function button can be used to send or receive calls if paired with a bluetooth phone.
To connect the Jambox, there are several options. The primary means is via bluetooth. Pairing is as simple as turning on the Jambox, and then going into the device’s bluetooth connection screen. I’ve used an iPhone and an iPad to connect to the device with no issues at all. Also, there is a stereo line in jack for devices that lack bluetooth.
Speaking of stereo line in, a 3 foot stereo to stereo cable comes with the Jambox, along with:
The case is especially clever. It’s made of a synthetic neoprene-like material that fits over the Jambox like a sleeve. The ends consist of foldable tabs with a thin magnet within the sleeve. As the tab encloses the end, it gently snaps to the case. One drawback, the case fits almost too snugly, and may take practice to push/pull the Jambox out of it.
But how does it sound? How does a $200 portable, wireless speaker sound? Impressive. Don’t expect something compared to a $2000 hi-fi, but you’ll hear a full range of sound with good bass response. I played numerous albums on it from a variety of artists: The National, Mumford & Sons, Iron & Wine, Rilo Kiley, Feist, Ella Fitzgerald, Broken Social Scene, The Beatles, Vampire Weekend, classical guitar. It tends to lose the high end, but it keeps the feel of the music clear and crisp. It can get loud enough to drive a small party in an apartment or living room or patio.
Lastly, the device is intelligent. Pushing the function button will state the battery life, but it can be upgraded with apps and firmware modifications to do more. Not a fan of the pre-installed voice–you can change it from 4 different voices, and that doesn’t even include the other languages it supports. If you create an account with other services, you can add apps to assist with caller id or voice dialing.
Of note, Jawbone took consideration to the packaging, too. The hard plastic case covers the Jambox, and a tab on each side of the case clip into a heavy paper box. Inside the box, the cables are neatly placed and labeled along with the carrying case and charger.
The utility of the Jambox offers a lot of value from dialing and syncing to phones, and also pairing with devices to provide richer sound beyond the devices tinny, mono speakers (e.g. the iPad). Instant parties can be had, watch movies or play games away from a TV, create a conference room speaker. This is definitely one, cool little, electronic brick.
Michael Eastman’s book,
Vanishing America, is a warm, visual elegy to small town America and vintage pop culture. Theaters, signs, stores and other everyday interactions are shown in rich detail with saturated colors. The collection is curated across 10 sections: theaters, churches, hangouts, doors, signs, stores, services, automobiles, hotels and restaurants.
Each section is reverent to its subject matter. Where some photographers would show decay and the end of life, Eastman focuses on bringing the subjects to life, preserving them as a visual time capsule. Even those subjects that appear derelict, such as the doors and signs, they don’t feel cynical. Theaters, hangouts, signs and automobiles receive the most in depth portraits. From section to section, the subject matter transitions well. From the secular to the things that lead us there and back to the places where we converge, Eastman sees where socialization and relating to others occurred.
Brinkely’s introduction is poetic, describing how Eastman found beauty in decay.
Of note, as reverent as Eastman is towards his subject matter, his book was printed in China. Perhaps this bit of irony escaped the process or the publisher had no choice, or market forces determined the outcome much like the small towns have fallen to.
Carolina Chocolate Drops’ album Genuine Negro Jig is a throwback, reviving traditional country, bluegrass string and jug music. It begins with an instrumental led by a fiddle that sets the tone for the remaining tracks–music from an era that mp3s forgot. Simple, direct and earnest, the album includes a mix of originals and traditionals. The originals, such as Hit ’em Up Style, Kissin’ and Cussin’ and Trampled Rose feel almost contemporary. Hit ’em Up Style has a hip hop beat and emphatic delivery as the fiddle carries the song. Kissin’ and Cussin’ has a sultry vibe with Rhiannon Giddens delivery. The traditional tracks, Cornbread and Butterbeans, Trouble In Your Mind and Snowden’s Jig are playful, energetic and spirted.
Stand out tracks: