All posts from May 27, 2009

science: This is what 13,500 pages micro-etched into nickel looks like. The Rosetta Disk is “intended to be a durable archive of human languages, as well as an aesthetic object that suggests a journey of the imagination across culture and history.” The Disk surface shown here, meant to be a guide to the contents, is etched with a central image of the earth and a message written in eight major world languages: “Languages of the World: This is an archive of over 1,500 human languages assembled in the year 02008 C.E. Magnify 1,000 times to find over 13,000 pages of language documentation.” The text begins at eye-readable scale and spirals down to nano-scale. This tapered ring of languages is intended to maximize the number of people that will be able to read something immediately upon picking up the Disk, as well as implying the directions for using it—‘get a magnifier and there is more.’ On the reverse side of the disk from the globe graphic are over 13,000 microetched pages of language documentation. Since each page is a physical rather than digital image, there is no platform or format dependency. Reading the Disk requires only optical magnification. Each page is .019 inches, or half a millimeter, across. This is about equal in width to 5 human hairs, and can be read with a 650X microscope (individual pages are clearly visible with 100X magnification).

science:

This is what 13,500 pages micro-etched into nickel looks like. The Rosetta Disk is “intended to be a durable archive of human languages, as well as an aesthetic object that suggests a journey of the imagination across culture and history.”

The Disk surface shown here, meant to be a guide to the contents, is etched with a central image of the earth and a message written in eight major world languages: “Languages of the World: This is an archive of over 1,500 human languages assembled in the year 02008 C.E. Magnify 1,000 times to find over 13,000 pages of language documentation.” The text begins at eye-readable scale and spirals down to nano-scale. This tapered ring of languages is intended to maximize the number of people that will be able to read something immediately upon picking up the Disk, as well as implying the directions for using it—‘get a magnifier and there is more.’

On the reverse side of the disk from the globe graphic are over 13,000 microetched pages of language documentation. Since each page is a physical rather than digital image, there is no platform or format dependency. Reading the Disk requires only optical magnification. Each page is .019 inches, or half a millimeter, across. This is about equal in width to 5 human hairs, and can be read with a 650X microscope (individual pages are clearly visible with 100X magnification).

La afición a la coca crece a medida que te acercas a Nueva York. Una vez allí, el consumo se homogeneiza (está claro que tienen de todo). En ausencia de farla, la gente se tira a las anfetas: California es prácticamente una fase del Pacman. Y los civilizados habitantes de Nueva Inglaterra compran más fármacos de los que deben en una tierra que ya desde Lovecraft se adivinaba sombría. Me falta el alcohol para hacerme un mapa psicoactivo completo, pero el gráfico es absolutamente cojonudo.

La afición a la coca crece a medida que te acercas a Nueva York. Una vez allí, el consumo se homogeneiza (está claro que tienen de todo). En ausencia de farla, la gente se tira a las anfetas: California es prácticamente una fase del Pacman. Y los civilizados habitantes de Nueva Inglaterra compran más fármacos de los que deben en una tierra que ya desde Lovecraft se adivinaba sombría.

Me falta el alcohol para hacerme un mapa psicoactivo completo, pero el gráfico es absolutamente cojonudo.

Skinographie.

Skinographie.

Estoy seguro de que existe una palabra que signifique “nostalgia de un momento no vivido”. Pues eso es lo que me provoca esta fotografía. Me parece el equivalente congelado (y jebi, claro) de 1979. Me lo ha pasado Jenny, cuyos puños de metal aterrorizan Madrid.

Estoy seguro de que existe una palabra que signifique “nostalgia de un momento no vivido”. Pues eso es lo que me provoca esta fotografía. Me parece el equivalente congelado (y jebi, claro) de 1979.

Me lo ha pasado Jenny, cuyos puños de metal aterrorizan Madrid.