Monday 1 August 2016

achievement unlocked or gotta catch ‘em all

As an unapologetic flaneur, although sometimes I wish I had a dog on a lead as an alibi, I’ve never needed an excuse to go for a long walk and explore. Now, however, I fear removing my phone from my bag whilst out in public for fear I might be taking as hunting virtual pocket-monsters superimposed on reality. Perhaps this is the first evidence that our Universe is the product of a vast computer simulation I’ve heard mention of.
And while it is admirable to promote physical activity after a fashion, I don’t believe that there’s educational value or enduring health in the craze—like how Candy Crush was created to teach economists the concept of “sunken-costs” or how Solitaire was bundled with operating systems to teach people dexterity with mice. Mostly this exercise is a boon for Big Data to gather more and more reconnaissance and farm out the collection of demographics and map-making to willing-players by moving pedestrians out of the mobile-phone lane on the sidewalks and scattering them all over on scavenger-hunt for cartographic corrections and inclusion of those entities and preferences not already accounted for elsewhere, globally, and without deploying fleets of camera mounted cars. I wonder how long we can restraint ourselves from employing comparable methods for policing parking-violators, people on parole, suspected terrorists and others guilty of though-crime, already identified by self-incrimination. How long before we can curate reality and superimpose or erase more pleasant things in our idiosyncratic environments?  What do you think? We already leave our footfalls in indelible wet cement, and I don’t think we want to have a whole entourage accompanying us.

turf-war or push th’ little daisies

The always brilliant Geoff Manaugh at BLDGBlog thoughtfully and considered directs our attention to yet another insult to ecology and our rampant encroachment not only on the pristine but now for what has already learnt to live with us:
the craze for zero- maintenance “permanent botanicals” are canvasing over gardens, yards and campuses, replacing what little plots there are left with artificial grass. Oh England’s green and pleasant land, where will the rain water go, and without worms to churn the soil, I imagine things might get pretty musty rather quickly, and without worms, there’d be no birds? And so on, and so on… I hope that this is a passing craze and new tenants rip all that out, like so much shag carpeting.

ticker-tape

The always interesting Public Domain Review shows us that the isolating, estranging effects of technology were Zeitgeisty (yes, I said Zeitgeisty having heard it uttered by a BBC Radio 4 correspondent—the language we pick up…) back in 1906 Britain, as Punch magazine—which I never realised that Punch was subtitled the London Charivari—lampoons. Though this forecast for the state of affairs of the upcoming year is in jest, the man and woman fixated on their telegraph-feed rather than each other or their surroundings is pretty prescient and shows that concerns about socially authentic cohesion is not the exclusive bailiwick of our age.

royal jelly

Happily those insect motels of straw and cinder-blocks are getting as popular and common as bird houses, but there’s no reason, as the fabulous Everlasting Blรถrt informs, to skimp on luxury for our apian friends. To underscore their appreciation for these pollinators for supplying their fruits and vegetables, a storied and posh Yorkshire emporium has teamed up with Kew Botanical Gardens to prove their swarms lavish lodging in the Grand Beedapest Hotel. Read all about the project and urban bee-keeping at the link.