Via Kottke’s Quick Links, we really enjoyed this thoughtful farewell send-off that the intrepid explorers at Atlas Obscura created for their out-going boss in a small shed on a plot of land not far from the crossroads of the historic highway Route 66 as a ritual repository inviting individuals, as their CEO did as the collection’s first contributor, to leave parts of their former selves behind to acknowledge and honour life’s transitions and pivot points. We really liked this idea, especially after charting out so many curious places and compendia to have created a spot of their own. It reminds me of Tiresias’ instructions to Odysseus as an act of propitiation to take an oar from his ship and to walk inland until he reaches people who’ve never heard of the sea and mistake the implement he is bearing for a cradle to separate the wheat from the chaff (ἀθηρηλοιγός)—and there make sacrifice to Poseidon for making it home. Much more to discover with Atlas Obscura at the link up top.
Friday, 6 March 2020
the winnowing oar
catagories: 💭, 📚, libraries and museums
pilier des nautes
Rediscovered on this day in 1710 whilst performing excavation beneath Notre Dame for a new crypt, the Pillar of the Boatmen is a monumental Gallo-Roman column made during the first century and found re-used as building material for the fourth century defensive wall of the Île de la Cité.
Originally raised on the embankment of Lutetia (Paris) by the guild of sailors and ship wardens of the Seine as tribute to Jupiter (Iovis Optimus Maximus) the dedication and inscription mix some of the Roman pantheon but the other deities invoked and depicted, one singularly or as part of an ensemble to each side of four stacked blocks, in bas-relief are distinctly Gallic and have Gaulish vocabulary. Aside from Jupiter, and the twins Castor and Pollux, the others bear their native theonyms, as far as the incomplete and reconstructed inscription can be deciphered with certainty, and not epithets for their Roman equivalents, like Cernunnos, the Celtic horned god (second from the top, facing left) of commerce and fertility often portrayed but only named on this artefact—the city’s modern name itself coming from the tribe the Parisii which the Romans displaced with their occupation. The pillar is now displayed in the Thermes de Cluny, the ruins of an ancient spa in the heart of the city, in the bathhouse’s former cold pool—that is the frigidarium.
Thursday, 5 March 2020
el gaucho goofy

zx81
Launched in the United Kingdom on this day in 1981, Sinclair Research’s innovative, intuitive and inexpensive (kits for self-assembly consisting of a slim and compact keyboard and an external cassette recorder for memory retailed for a mere £49,95) micro-computer was one of the first to be successfully mass-marketed and introduced the public to the idea of having a home computer, outside the bailiwick of business executives and hobbyists. Aside from the tape player, there were no moving parts and plugged into a television set as a display.
Despite perceived technical shortcomings—like the impractically low amount of memory, the unit truly prized open a path to better computer literacy, coding (see previously) and importantly the measure of confidence to see broader applications. Clones and variants soon proliferated—I remember using a Radio Shack derivative in a beige casing and flipping the VHF/UHF switch and felt I was entering programming mode, and the community of enthusiasts the ZX81 fostered was self-perpetuating, the early-adopters creating, sourcing software and hardware compatible with the computer. Founder and business executive Clive Marles Sinclair (*1940) amassed a fortune with this pioneering success and was given a knighthood for it in 1983. Later projects launched by Sinclair have focused on personal transportation and solving the last-mile problem with inventions like his folding bicycle that commuters can easily take on trains, the A-Bike debuting in 2006.
7x7
goetheanum: a visit to the seat of the General Anthroposophical Society in Dornach in the canton of Solothurn
0107 – b moll: a brilliant short by filmmaker Hiroshi Kondo on cityscapes, commutes and light—via Waxy
pivot point: we are entering the era of Peak Car—see also
gratuitous diacritics: a peek inside the world of extreme heavy metal logos—via Things Magazine
autoritatto: an artist commissions a neural network to generate her a self-portrait out of thousands of selfies
it’s big, it’s heavy, it’s wood: documenting the wildlife traffic over this log bridge in Pennsylvania enters its second year
Wednesday, 4 March 2020
ishe komborera zimbabwe
In national leadership roles until 2017, Robert Gabriel Mugabe was elected Prime Minister of Rhodesia on this day in 1980, his predecessor and first head of state after independence, Canaan Banana (*1936 - †2003), mainly a caretaker figurehead.
Sworn in and taking his oath office a few weeks later in mid-April, Mugabe proclaimed that the country would be renamed Zimbabwe and across the land statues of Cecil Rhodes, the former namesake, were taken down as the nation progressed from apartheid towards racial reconciliation. After a reign of nearly four decades, Mugabe’s legacy is a fraught and mixed one, controversial and depending on who one asks, either the world’s greatest revolutionary freedom fighter or one of its most ruthless tyrants.
沢登り
Via tmn, we learn about a particular subset of mountaineering called sawanobori—literally stream-climbing that involves ascending a tributary to its source be that up and over ravines and waterfalls and always against the current. Although speciality gear is usually now employed—as the video advertises—traditionally climbers wore straw-rope shoes called waraji (草鞋), differentiated from other sandals by how the toes protruded over the edge to help one gain a purchase whilst hiking up an incline.
catagories: 🇯🇵, 💧, sport and games
Tuesday, 3 March 2020
bless this mess
Writing for Neatorama fellow internet caretaker Miss Cellania directs our attention to this malediction suitable for framing in this cross-stich embroidery and its Live, Laugh, Love antecedents while not quite mockingly do somewhat undermine the concerted efforts of many wise people devoted to the problem of long term storage of our radioactive waste and how to dissuade far future generations from exploration.
Whilst considering everything from a spiky metal forest and an atomic priesthood to endure the ages, the Human Interference Task Force—and of course the verdict is still out there and no optimal solution has presented itself—aimed to communicate the message, non-linguistically: This is not a place of honour... no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here... nothing is valued here... This place is best shunned and left uninhabited.