sending forces

Amusing Planet features a profile of the mostly abandoned town of Wünsdorf on the periphery of Berlin that once hosted the headquarters of the Soviet military in East Germany.
With large areas of restricted access, Wünsdorf was declared another verbotene Stadt, like the Colossus of Prora after World War II, and of course this was not the only installation to be mothballed with the Reunification and we’ve encountered quite a few former army camps in our travels. The stations of the Allies are much less dense these days (click here for a map that shows the coverage and saturation on both sides) but the Americans have remained.

directors’ cut or good morning pyongyang

Via Gizmodo, we discover that in the North Korean capital, there is a daily morning broadcast on loudspeakers of a Theremin-sounding leitmotif that resounds throughout the city.
Although reporting appears rather dodgy and some handlers of visitors to the Hermit Kingdom disavow the existence of the routine—the implication being that they are so brain-washed that it no longer registers, this instrumental tune is a little reminiscent of the Blade Runner (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?) soundscape composed by Vangelis and is possibly called “Ten Million Human Bombs for Kim Il Sung” but no one knows for sure. It seems eerie and oppressive at first blush but I wonder what message that North Korea intended to send.

implicit bias

Academics looking forensically into the melt-down and subsequent transformation of the chatbot Tay to an obscenity-spewing misanthrope after being exposed to the ravages of internet for only a brief time, finding that the way artificial intelligences learn language—basically digesting the whole of on-line text exchanges—can magnify unconscious word associations and reflect them back at us in a very unflattering way. The tokens and markers of speech that the machines repeat and rely on for guidance contains a lot of latent prejudice but also shows that in context it truly is communication and language that drives consciousness and informs culture.

chocolate-covered broccoli

Though I can’t claim to have had any direct experience with Oregon Trail (“You have died of dysentery”) and was quite fond of Carmen Sandiego (albeit mostly due to the later television game show adaptation with catchy musical interludes by Rockapella but I don’t think the edutainment software was terribly sustaining), I did enjoy this reminiscence and appreciation of the fusion of entertainment and education—described as chocolate-covered broccoli as that’s the resulting palate in most cases.
In elementary school, moreover, I do remember weekly visits to the computer lab to sit before terminals connected to a mainframe that cycled through some human-interest stories of made-up newspaper that I supposed tested for reading comprehension but none of it was particularly engaging. Once we matriculated to Computer Literacy class, outfitted with Macintosh IIe models that one could program and communicate with rival middle schools with a modem, things did rather grow interesting and our attention was rapt. I think people take for granted that conversation that they have with themselves once they resolve to allow technology into their lives and homes. The novelty, entertainment value of technology was a poor decoy for the recalcitrant learner, but its capacity as a vehicle for education comes out in the tinkering—like with the ownership that comes from working on a jalopy—and to find oneself confined within a world of bounded possibilities that makes risk-taking paradoxically less risky.  Fortune still favours the bold and awards those able to step outside themselves.

l'atlas

The Local’s French edition has a rather detailed map of the adult beverages of the various regions and localities of the country, accompanied by an equally detailed key, legend that gives the story behind the various liqueurs, ciders, beers, tonics, brandies and whiskies. The wines of France, however, are deserving of their own cartographic treatment as are the cheeses.

an army marches on its stomach

A gourmet chef and a videographer have partnered to transform some of the world’s most unappetising, brutally utilitarian food—rations or the Meal, Ready-to-Eat (MRE)—from military forces all over the into works of art, suitable for presentation in the finest restaurants.
Aside from the way that the main course and dessert are arranged, the series is an interesting snap-shot about differences in palate, familiarity and notions of nutrition and sustenance. Visit the website via the link above for a full gallery of army rations, both packed and unfurled, from across the globe and video documenting the creative process.