Monday 3 October 2016

force-sensitive

Whilst trying to understand the behaviour of light as it passes through a series of quantum logic gates that forces the ray to choose one state or another without the de-coherence of observation (oy! whenever I look at you, you either go all wavy or are so particular), physicists in Australia may have inadvertently invented the light-sabre. Though beams of light had been considerably slowed down beforehand, scientists had never been able to sustain a completely stationary collection of photons—apparently, until now. In trying to make quantum chips more practical and predictable, the researchers produced a bolt that’s effectively frozen in place, the Jedi weapon of choice.

Sunday 2 October 2016

boxy, boxy lady

Though more or less just reflecting the marketing environment of the times, one forgets what sort of ethnographical insights can be gleaned from ephemera, as in this interesting portrait of the mascot Miss Cora Gated that Box Vox furnishes. The niche blog that is focused on vintage and innovative packaging tells the story of this vixen (foxy lady) dressed in a box that was created in 1953 by advertising executives for the concern Hinde & Dauch, the authoritative manufacturer of corrugated (pleated) boxes.
Miss Gated capitalised on all the popular conceits of the day, including sports stars, Hollywood and Broadway productions, promotional items and toys but also—perhaps uncomfortably, inserted herself into literature and touched on social issues of the past that were apparently acceptable topics of polite conversation (or at least the milieu of publicity) of the 1950s, like the Underground Railroad and slaves escaping to freedom. It’s a really fascinating glimpse into what was considered in good taste for that era and where ads might gain a purchase (I think the bounds of advertising-space and sponsorship change too and not necessarily in proportion). Snap, Crackle and Pop probably never broached controversial or serious societal issues and Green Giant never admitted to his association with the Symbionese Liberation Army or whatever happened to Sprout after that incident with the Monsanto laboratory. A colourful candy, while not a metaphor for potential terroristic elements having infiltrated the general refugee population, did go monochrome so not to take away from the pride movement. Who’ll remember that gesture or that stunt and its place in the future? Now I am wondering about the secret or simply forgotten careers of mascots. The world may never know.

6x6

you down with opm: contractor that may have been responsible for that enormous Office of Personnel Management data breach is awarded handling a new secret security clearance initiative

we can be friends forever: Teddy Ruxpin is getting a reboot—raising not only the question of how technology cheats the imagination but also what’s our ethical responsibilities to creating toys with feelings and souls

sub rosa: some of the disclosed locations of the world’s most secret societies

time’s arrow: a Cosmos compelled to go from past to present to future may just be the limitations of the doting observer

durable solutions:  the architecture and design of refugee shelters is exhibited at the MoMA

drill bit: there’s a newly discovered species of bee in deserts of New Mexico that can gnaw through solid rock like a termite through wood and even can mix its own concrete 

mea culpa or presumption of guilt

Though in the Middle Ages one could defend their good character by assembling a jury of twelve of one’s peers that would attest unanimously under oath that the accused could not have possibly committed the act that he or she (or it with animals often subpoenaed), there was no concept of presumed innocent and the burden of proof was squarely on the charged.
The word culprit is a quirky portmanteaux word dating from times when the courts were becoming more formalised affairs, complete with a proper court recorder. Each docket in England and France began with the same plea of the accused—not guilty, or rather [not] culpable, to which the clerk would reply: [as charged] Prest, d’averrer nostre bille. A call and response that was a mixture of Latin and Old French that signified that the court was ready to present its case. It was abbreviated in the proceedings as cul: prit and became synonymous with the person of the defendant.