hieroglyph or non verbis, sed rebus

There is a long and well-established history of substituting symbols for words and alphabets are classed as such by linguists. In the fourteenth century, the rebus sentence was introduced first by French word-smiths as a playful and endearing way of sustaining a dialogue, adopted by many following epistolaters.  The related article above from Kottke has many keen images documenting the evolution of the form. How do you think symbols are altering communication? Compare this antique example of dialogue to an exchange using smileys, short-hand and the like.

ne pas être un vide-poche à l'origine

Via the intrepid and inquiring Nag on the Lake, a single one of Intel's latest batch of innovations introduced at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas has captivated the public above others. This so called smart-bowl is basically a vide-poche, a place to deposit the contents of one's pockets at the end of the day, which generates an electric field to transfer energy from the bowl to a cellular phone or some other battery-operated gadget within via induction and without wires. Though inductive charging is not the most efficient method and only works at a very close range, the idea is pretty clever and maybe will led to improvements in the technology, particularly for something like electric cars that could charge passively without plugs and cables.

currents and gyres

Despite the headlines, Germany, like America has far from a monolithic climate, but nonetheless the weather reports on opposite sides of the Atlantic could not be further apart. While in Germany, we have been spoilt by a series of glorious, balmy days that seems more like an extremely early Spring than a lingering Autumn, in contrast parts of the US have been dealing with unprecedented lows. Birds are confused and flowers are blooming.

The Germans, I think, do not speak much of it, partially to avoid the appearance of Schadenfreude, partially as the weather—especially the traditional and accustomed conditions, is an essential topic of conversation and no one really knows what to do with this spate of bright days at this time of year, and partially out of a jinxing superstition that this too will pass and Winter will arrive with prejudice. Meteorologically speaking, I've heard no discussion whether these opposing phenomena are related—save for a chat between the weather man and the anchor, where the host asked if these two events have anything to do with one another. Yes, indeed, the weather man replied, not with exactly qualifications or explanations, going on to say that the cold front in America was fuelling conditions over Europe. Of course, weather one place always has influence further afield but I didn't exactly follow, and wonder—for something as big as the weather, not just some little black rain cloud, if such an exchange really means that the warming of the oceans or changes in the salinity by degrees is occurring, resulting in the recalibration of the motor of the Gulf Stream and North Atlantic Drift, whose circulation is a key component to the climate we recognise.

mercator projection

Biologist and television host, Joe Hanson, also hosts a truly splendid blog, featuring discussions—which for instance discuss the practice of flattening out the globe (more ovoid than a sphere) in two dimensions and depending on ones centre of focus makes Greenland seemingly as big as the continent of Africa with a study in phrenology. This vignette also explores other representations that try to depict a more accurate picture. I just wonder what sort of inculcations that these examples instilled in the classroom—either an ever-present awareness of the exaggeration or a smug pride.

simulacra

A skeuomorph (from the Greek for vessel or tool and shape) is a derivative embellishment that cues an operator to a function by invoking some older physical, mechanical element. The icons of graphic interfaces are vast arrays of skeuomorphs—like the symbol of a paper envelope for e-mail, a pad-lock, a waste-bin. None of these representations exist within the computer—like the orientation of PLAY pointing to the right and REWIND to the left, there being no direction but rather an allusion to mechanism of older video and cassette players, but skeoumorphism is not limited to the quiver of familiar icons.
There's quite a range of abstractions that fall into this category—I think, to include gestures and gesticulations like widely recognized pantomime for call me or for what time is it, though the instruments likely to be used are quite other in form, not to mention things like vestigial cross-beams or pockets or Ersatz books in the office or buttons and the rendering of busyness over the hull of a star-ship that's more decorative than functional—like the Borg Cube or the trench of the Death Star (greebling is the word). There's also the subtler touches, like having a digital camera click its shutter for a satisfying and familiar sound. There has even been proposed legislation that a such devices retain this feature so people know if they are being photographed at close range—and I suppose, so the photographer is making a more conscience decision to take a picture too. Slight and flimsy gadgets are also routinely weighted down with some added metal purely to give the object a feeling of heft and thus better quality.

priam's daughter or hegemony

The UK Guardian features a rather sobering assessment for what this new year might hold, a refrain of hostilities a hundred years ago hence, which would mean that the season of commemorations assay something surpassingly ironic in their keeping, rather than the chance for honest reflection on the frailty of the human condition and wisdom, as it should be—if the warnings of this Cambridge history professor prove prescient by any degree.

Perhaps not all events, convictions and factors have one-to-one counterparts (the article is introduced with the snowclone that history does not repeat itself but often rhymes), but this Cassandra figure draws some pretty scary and apt parallels. One of the more striking passages vignettes concerns how the shift in world-dominance is ever a time of peril, citing how American quietly drew up contingency plans for an invasion of Canada in the decade after the Great War, assuming that a threatened super-power, the British Empire, would precipitate fighting close to home. There is always the potential for such dire predictions and such things as self-fulfilling prophesies, so what do you think? In any case, I hope that such admonitions are heeded.

sunday drive: idstein

On the way to Köln for New Year's celebrations, we noticed a Turistic-Tafel, one of those brown and white illustrated signs that offer what historic or cultural attractions one can find at the next exit, and since it was just at the start of our journey and it was another fair and sunny afternoon, I decided to investigate.
The town hosted a palatial Renaissance residence for the counts of Nassau, which is now used as a boarding school—including for one in the line, Adolf, King of Germany, who was once on the short-list to become the Holy and Roman Emperor of the Germans but was unceremoniously displaced by the Hapsburg family. Looking at this finely preserved city-centre, one wonders how history would be changed by the detail of that time-line.
This view is from the steps of Hexenturm, whose turret appears behind the ensemble of the old Rathaus below, which means witches' tower, though no witches ever endured an unfortunate incarceration there, the town did have quite a few victims of a series of witch-hunts in the seventeenth century and a plaque at the base of the tower is dedicated to their memories.
Behind the collection of signature Fachwerk (half-timbered) buildings, one can make out the steeple of the now consecrated Unionskirche, originally a Gothic edifice built on the ruins of an earlier Romanesque—the town lying directly on the Limes with quite a bit of revival and other remnants of the far-reaches of the Roman Empire in Germany. The building does seem a bit plain from the outside, but the interior is very ornate, replete with a ceiling of panels from the Gospels. It was a very nice place for a windshield-tour but certainly worthy of more and I am excited to go back someday soon.

what's the word? thunderbird! what's the price? a dollar twice!

I have recently discovered a new fascinating fount of nostalgic marketing in the web presence of The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit. Here is one exemplary curation of the evolution of US airline advertising logos that's really well composed—and is just one out of a sizable archive of posts on various ephemera. The site is also a great resource for vintage advertising artwork, particularly Americana, and features time-capsules that capture pop-culture superlatives from decades ago. Triangulated with the preservation of disposables and style-movements reflected in packaging and touts that were not meant to be saved and living memories, one gets a really comprehensive glimpse into the past.