5/5

The ever-intriguing Kottke shares an interesting look on how emoji data labels can be effective, subjective tools for prompting the formation of better sleep-hygiene. Immediate instructions such as the routine presented in the interview at the link can be habit-forming, it seems, and is reflective of the presence this iconography has as a complement to language.
Ages ago, I developed my own system of short-hand and employed this vocabulary (which struck me as a quite memorable hieroglyphics) for note-taking and felt my retention was better for it and still think in those symbols from time to time. Beyond personal rankings and pet-use, there’s also apparently a trend in critics’ circles that gravitating away from “stars” towards more expressive pictorial scale. We’ll see how long this approaches lasts and hopefully it will have run its course before a Rosetta Stone is needed to decipher what two moai and one Great Wave off Kanagawa means for a restaurant. What do you think? Do you defer to the experts in the first place? Maybe simpler is better.

fingerhut

It never occurred to me to me that that vestigial “pepper” dangling off a tomato pincushion had a special purpose—I thought maybe it was just to segregate the pins from the needles, but it’s really pretty keen I think that it’s resonant and gets people talking and maybe appreciating the neglected knitting-basket in the corner.
The Victorian Era design (introduced as seamstresses and tailors became more common and pins less dear—being kept under lock and key in prior ages) invokes a belief that a tomato on the mantle (as was the fashion at the time) of a new home would ward off bad luck. If no tomato was available, the new occupants would improvise with something of that general shape and colour and the sampler work of making a tomato pincushion served a dual purpose—as did the composition of the hassock itself—the tomato being stuffed wool wadding to prevent rust and the little strawberry was filled with sand to sharpen the pins, though superfluous now due to the way pins are manufactured and treated so as not to dull and are considered disposable now. I wonder what other sorts of surprises are lurking in the design everyday, maybe antiquated things.

tonic and toil

Archaeologists and ethnographers trying to reconstruct the inaccessible past (though there are plenty of cultural references to curse and toil—like in the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden) have questioned why humanity moved from a hunter-gatherer society to agriculture and division of labour and have puzzled over this apparently rash decision, as a sustenance way of life is far less taxing and obligates far less of an individual’s free-time to earn one’s daily bread, as it were.
Giving into such incursions—alienation from labour that’s unfolded down intractable paths as civilisation, does seem to be quite a harsh punishment and we’re given to wonder for what award. Such advance is certainly not something to be taken for granted in the march of progress—other models are possible and farming and herding can be as capricious as scrounging for nuts and berries and game. One does not see other primates rushing towards cultivation—and not just despoiled wheat and grapes, and deferring one’s harvest to some unknown date. Some think, however, that the compulsion and motivation, perhaps the toxic knowledge, lie in fermentation. Humans would have never entered into such a social-contract without the accidental discovery of beer and wine (succour, according to other traditions)—or however one might name the libation. This does seem like a rather thunderous, not to invoke later protestations after that support structure was already well-established, revelation that can’t be unseen like the knowledge of Good and Evil, Drunk and Sober, and demarcating that free time sacrificed. That’s a little bit of magic, with primacy over bread, manna and other crops, that could elevate one from dull cares for a little while at least, even if that comes at a very high cost with equally high returns.

6x6

tactile: using ultra-sonic puffs of air, researchers in Japan have created holograms that one can feel 

odeon: a tour of the documentation and preservation project sponsored by the Goethe Institute to catalogue the classic movie houses of Africa

nasa-eames: 1970s conceptions of the future of space colonies, via Puppies and Flowers 

mâché: beautiful and inspired paper reliquaries  

potnonomicaphobic: though holiday left-overs are nearly spent by this point, here’s a nice celebration of words for acute food phobias

procrastination: tsundoku is Japanese for letting books pile up on one’s shelves without being read

winterval oder raunächte

The Twelve Days of Christmas (or Raunächte as its called in Germanic-speaking lands) which presently coincides with the period from Christmas Day until the Feast of the Epiphany when the Magi arrive from the East (Drei Königs Tag) has very ancient roots and is steeped in traditions and customs, yet in practise if not rather commandeered.
The term has a two-fold meaning suggesting the fireworks, smokers and clamour (Räucherwerk) used to ward off evil spirits and the old German word “rûch” for hoary or hairy for the mantles of demons that populate the clouds and shadows, should one indulge a bit and delineates the time when Odin (Wotan) embarks on his astral wild hunt (Wilde Jagd).  The New Year greeting Guten Rutsch! has a different etymology and it’s ill-advised to look up and stare off at the sky, lest one’s imagination should get the better of him. This period was recognised as especially conducive to other-worldly encounters as hardest days of Winter, being put into abeyance once again with the Solstice (the Feast of Saint Thomas as well), and the customs associated with this time of reflection and cleansing as it also marked the eleven days (twelve nights) that the lunar year lagged behind the solar year, depending on one’s reckoning. The clutch of good luck charms for the new year includes the psychotropic speckled agaric mushroom, which grow where Odin’s steeds’ hooves fall. Whether the god was riding some anatomically normal horse or the eight-legged Sleipnir (eight tiny reindeer), I suppose, indicated for foragers whether or not it would be bountiful year.