For mother’s day, my mother received a black pearl bracelet & earring set, a green amethyst necklace, baking, and several days of cleaning. Yeah, you WISH I was your daughter. #winning
Prototype Real / Digital Info Interface System
Using projection and gestures to create interactive relationship with information - video embedded below:
Fujitsu Laboratories has developed a next generation user interface which can accurately detect the users finger and what it is touching, creating an interactive touchscreen-like system, using objects in the real word.
“We think paper and many other objects could be manipulated by touching them, as with a touchscreen. This system doesn’t use any special hardware; it consists of just a device like an ordinary webcam, plus a commercial projector. Its capabilities are achieved by image processing technology.”
Using this technology, information can be imported from a document as data, by selecting the necessary parts with your finger.
More at DigInfo here
RELATED: This is very similar to a concept developed in 1991 called ‘The Digital Desk’ [link]
So much has been written about New York City as a city of histories—rich and public, deep and private. Commerce and bodies ebb and flow. For every New Yorker, there is a ghost city under the tangible one; this second, invisible layer contains the tangled web of memory and geography. I certainly have my fair share of associative ghosts; we all do. But New York City is also a city of forgetting, for better and for worse, and often against our best wishes.
Avoid passive voice. When you write in the passive voice you sound like a landlord or a lawyer; you sound like you mean to avoid responsibility. Is that true? Do you eschew responsibility? Were you up until four a.m. writing on the walls of girls’ Facebook pages before you started this paper?
Friday Funtastic!Answer all 7 questions to find out which Shakespeare character has a lot in common with you.
The wounded child inside many females is a girl who was taught from early childhood on that she must become something other than herself, deny her true feelings, in order to attract and please others.
There’s something unexplainable that happens when you wear all of your physical being away so all that’s left is who you are. And who you are when you don’t want to move forward, when you simply cannot fathom another single step is exactly what these athletes…have come out here to discover.
“On Saturdays when I was a young girl, my mother would drive me downtown to the Santa Cruz Public Library. Often, she would drop me off; leave me there for hours. And I was completely content to wander aimlessly, pulling books from the endless shelves. I would get myself into a small spell, walking and gathering books. Then, I’d find myself a quiet corner to sit and there, I would lose myself inside the portal of a book.
“Years later, I am, again, in the library, this time, the Aptos Public Library. I am in the children’s reading room kneeling before a round wooden table upon which sits a fake board game, The Phantom Tollbooth. Here is how the game goes: I pick up a card, and whichever book is listed on its backside, that is the book I will read. I spend a week inside the kingdom of this book and then, when my mother returns me to the library, the next Saturday, I tell the librarian which books I’ve read, and she takes me by the hand and escorts me back to the magic round table, back to the board game. She disappears for a moment and then returns with a form with my name on the top. She adds the books I read that week to the long list, instructs me to spin the spinner and then I pick up a new card, and flip it over.
“The pretty librarian takes my hand and leads me across the room to a shelf where she pauses, leans into the books and pulls out a beautiful red book with a black horse’s face on it. Black Beauty.
“She hands me the book, the key, and I open it, and then I drop under as I enter the beautiful kingdom again.”
The inimitable Grant Snider strikes again, with the day jobs of famous poets – including Jack Kerouac (railroad worker), Charles Bukowski (mailman), Emily Dickinson (cat-keeper), and T. S. Eliot (bank clerk.)
This even rhymes. Well played, Grant Snider.
if you could be a sound what sound would you be
i’d be bjork’s voice
I’d be the glockenspiel solo from “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.”
I’d be Jay-Z’s laugh.
The combined sounds of a crash from the next room and a tiny little voice going “Ow.”