Just some gears
2^9 = 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 = 512 dots, arranged in cubes. 2x2 dots arranged in cubes, arranged in 2x2 meta-cubes, arranged in 2x2 meta-cubes.
With this, Geometry Daily goes on a hiatus. Yes, I will pause posting. Instead of doing even more graphics, I would like to go deeper. 512 graphics is a lot of material and some ideas demand more attention and want to go elsewhere, on paper, shirts and how-knows. The about page, the shops, my website, they are in dire need for some cleaning up. With the normal schedule, this will never happen.
So far, I will not make any commitment of when I will start posting again, but I’m pretty sure I will. The current idea is to produce more Geometry Dailies behind the scenes and then publish them again in a daily fashion in “seasons”, like in tv series. Let’s see what the future brings!
Any news related to Geometry Daily will of course be posted on this tumblr and the facebook page. For everything else please follow @Tilman on Twitter and have a look at my old creaky blog tilman.me.
You are a great audience, thank you all very much for following.!
Love & Geometry! Tilman.
Parting is sweet sorrow.
"Once, when contemplating the apparently endless growth of administrative responsibilities in British academic departments, I came up with one possible vision of hell. Hell is a collection of individuals who are spending the bulk of their time working on a task they don’t like and are not especially good at. Say they were hired because they were excellent cabinet-makers, and then discover they are expected to spend a great deal of their time frying fish. Neither does the task really need to be done – at least, there’s only a very limited number of fish that need to be fried. Yet somehow, they all become so obsessed with resentment at the thought that some of their co-workers might be spending more time making cabinets, and not doing their fair share of the fish-frying responsibilities, that before long there’s endless piles of useless badly cooked fish piling up all over the workshop and it’s all that anyone really does."
-On The Phenomenon Of Bullshit Jobs, by David Graeber
"Regarding your suggestions, the IOC has a clear rule laid out in the Olympic Charter (Rule 50) which states that the venues of the Olympic Games are not a place for proactive political or religious demonstration."
Welcome to the new reality. Everything blocked and refracted through your own layer of glass.
Vintage graphic design by Erik Nitsche (1908-1998)
A man or woman, some broker, banker or bum, dashed themselves against a speeding train on the Victoria Line this morning. Inside the train behind, we tsked and tutted at the “passenger incident.” When the driver walked through to change direction, we asked him what had happened. He gave the euphemistic: “there’s been a lot of people under trains recently…”
He spoke of the general trend, as if naming the incident that had just happened would be too terrible – a man has just died right here, and you were part of the thing that killed him. No, it’s the general trend they refer to. It’s what the drivers must tell each other in the break room. This sort of thing happens all the time. I am now on Wikipedia, trying to get some perspective. It says there were eighty such “one-unders” in 2011. Look around you. That’s a rush-hour carriage.
To passengers, it happens once in a lifetime. The driver pronounced the cause of death and we all drew breath, inhaling another lungful of the rank carriage air as if to confirm that were still alive, on rather than under. Opposite me stood a builder. We’d jostled at the door for position an hour ago, each trying to shave precious seconds from his commute. Now, he shook his head, said: “fuck.”
Not in anger. Everyone’s anger had dissolved; a kind of disbelief remained. Suicide sits on the cusp of two great unknowns for most people: death, and mental illness. We can’t fathom what death is, and many of us refuse to comprehend an illness with no physical manifestation; what looks like a refusal to dialogue with the world as it must be. It all comes out as: “why would you do this?” The only person who could give us an answer was lying under the rails at King’s Cross. But people talk about pain, don’t they? And endings to it. Standing in the carriage, I wondered about the bumps and jumps you sometimes feel between the stations. I wondered if the train in front of us felt anything.
I was one of ‘lucky’ few to watch Stephen Fry in conversation with Richard Herring a couple of months ago, as he described his attempt to take his own life through overdose. Media reporting of suicide can sometimes take the form of a casualty report. The facts: Famous Fry in the Hotel Room with the Pills. What Stephen did that night, and in his subsequent blog post, was to force through suicide’s context: both highs and lows. Perhaps we want to be spared the context, but we shouldn’t be, for suicide is the final chapter in an important and valid story. I suspect we’ve all experienced, in some dilute form, our own chapters of this story; our own crisis moments. There are charities to help with such moments; they deserve more attention.
As the train retreated to Highbury and Islington, passengers shared a joke: “not going in to work now, might as well go home.” We all chuckled a little, but I suspect we were sharing a second meaning there. That death has a way of widening your context, of viewing more chapters than the immediate, of making you wonder whether you might be able to glean a better way to understand, work with and accept the Passenger Incident dwelling within us all.
What happens when we release the Grey Goo?
Joker - (STAGE 6)Desert labyrinth
Joker - (STAGE 9)SPECIAL STAGE
Joker - (STAGE 5)ISLAND YM2612
Four Tet - Kool FM (Champion Remix)
- I got offered a job in a wine merchants...
I need to mull it over…
- Wenlock the warrior
At the mascot games
fun and sweat win every time.
Dignity is last.
- Berlin Hack'n'tell 13: Quil: A Processing wrapper in Clojure
Sorry for the slightly gestört presentation.
Here are some links to the projects...