jack and jenny

Camping at the end of the travel season in Normandy, H and I had a little fright late one night at a campgrounds that we had nearly to ourselves. There was an awful clanging of a metal trash bin from over by the restroom building.

H peered out the window to investigate and saw these long and lumbering shadows. In this empty place, it would have been too much to bear had I not mentioned that there was a pair of donkeys corralled at the far end of the camp, which was set back from the coast by just a few grassy dunes and shared the land with a golf range—which looked tended but was also sleepy and deserted. The donkeys had escaped and were conducting the nightly rounds. Reading this article from Modern Farmer about the virtues of these sentinels and their advantages over traditional guard animals made me remember how gingerly we tried to shoo them away from the Bulli—in case they did get spooked and decide to kick a big dent in the side of the bus. Apparently, we needn’t have worried about that.

impulse engines

Wired! Magazine’s science desk has an interesting profile on the research of two astrophysicists from Harvard aimed to identify theoretical hypervelocity stars.

Our Sun and Solar System churns through the Milky Way at seven hundred thousand kilometres per hour, but this is a relative snail’s pace compared to rogue stars that have been clocked with speeds millions of kilometres per hour hurling away from galaxies. Scientists believe that such ejections happen when a pair of stars waltzes too close to a black hole and one gets flung away. The astrophysicists believe that there’s no reason to believe that stars could not be travelling much faster even, and that there could be a trillion stars in the universe shuttling from galaxy to galaxy at just under the speed of light. Of course, there might also be a planetary system in tow on this grand tour—implying mechanical space-travel might not be the only means of reaching other worlds. Capturing a lone star streaking across the void of the intergalactic medium is outside the competency of today’s telescopes, however.

santa’s little helpers

Writing for The Daily Beast, columnist Sally Kahn reminds us how big warehouse distributors exploit workers, especially those brought on to take up the holiday slack, with a telling decision upheld in the courts.
Though happily in Germany, these elves can go on strike—and over lesser injunctions—for America’s sweat-shops there seems to be little hope, and no great change of heart for these grinches seems forthcoming. This stint is not an insignificant one, not paying workers for the time at the end of each shift they spend being subjected to mandatory screenings and searches to make sure that they are pilfering any merchandise, especially considering that this same company will be awarded (for its tracking and logistics expertise) government security contracts and help maintain that list of who’s been naughty and who’s been nice.

load of guac

The avocado is not only, like the tomato, a fruit and not a vegetable also known—apparently—as the crocodile pear, it is also the cultivar of an evolutionary anachronism. The avocado, like cherries or berries to lesser creatures, developed as a to spread its over-sized seed by way of mega-fauna, such as giant sloths loping about on the pampas of South America, which are long-since extinct. Fortunately, the humans that displaced the intended distribution system are still around for tending.

wmf or brøderbund

Via Pre-Surfer comes a fine and heart-felt tribute from The Atlantic for the quirky galleries of clipart that came bundled in software suites, which are effectively being euthanised as one of main libraries of illustrative materials is being discontinued. Though better alternatives can be summoned-up with increasingly less effort, there is something a touch nostalgic to making do with a limited number of choices and the stock images that graced business presentations and school projects until just recently. I suspect that the genre might be perpetuated elsewhere, however, as linotype, stencil and other techniques are still used and appreciated. Fittingly, the eulogy is delivered in the media itself.

back-lot or quadratura

Berlin’s film museum, the Deutsche Kinemathek, is celebrating the work of set-builder and stage-crafter Sir Ken Adam, who conceived some of the most memorable, iconic and colossal cinematic backdrops of the past fifty years.  Adam’s vision of the White House War Room for the Stanley Kubrick classic Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb even had the newly-elected real-life, Hollywood president convinced that was the command-and-control centre he’d inherit when he took office. Adam created the atmosphere of epics like Ben-Hur, several James Bond films and other cult movies.  Quadratura is an Italian term used to describe the technique that applied perspective and foreshadowing to flat surfaces to create the illusion of depth and space. 

domesticated ungulate or nectar of the gods

Though already rejected and ridiculed as coming straight from the teat of Frankenstein’s monster, a major soda conglomeration has decided to venture unabashed into one relatively untapped niche of the dairy market with a new and improved milk-like tonic. As if the non-browning apple was not bad enough, this new beverage is supposedly more healthy and nutritious than plain, old no-name milk. Despite initial public revulsion, I am certain that this concoction will be snuck into the food-supply surreptitious through the soda’s flagship distributors, fast-food franchises that pump out brand identification and loyalty. What an unholy alliance to scratch out a bit of profit from an industry that while not unsullied universally with growth-hormones and battery-farming remains wholesome in some places.
Interestingly, and mostly without notice, one of America’s (as the chief producer of these enhanced foodstuffs) geographically closest trading partners, which produces its own classic version of the above-mentioned soda incidentally, Mexico, has quietly repelled any overtures from US agri-business to sell crops or plant seeds on its soil. Though certainly not alone in worrying about the future impact of such experiments, this uncertainty is not the primary reason for Mexico’s distaste and it is rather out of a sense of reverence that such imports are blockaded. Like India’s sacred cow—who’s resisting advances but sadly under great pressure to assimilate, Mexico has an ingrained tradition of worshipful respect for their sustaining staple, maize, and consider it sacrilege to presume to improve upon Mother Nature.

small arms

A tragic break with tradition happened last year when for the first and only time in living-memory, possibly for the first time ever, police in Reykjavik were forced to shoot and kill a criminal after being fired upon themselves. Though the act of self-defense on the part of the officers was justifiable, an apology was subsequently issued to the family of the fugitive shooter. In a nation where weapons-ownership is relatively high so is mutual respect for human life, and I pray that is not just an aberration and that the same sense of peace can be fostered elsewhere. I think in general, though, that their guns ought to be taken away since we’re mostly capable of only treating them as play-things.