Honda has rebranded what was previously called the Honda Humanoid Robot as “Asimo”. He is available for “rental business” now. What the hell? What can he do, give speeches? Bookkeeping? Can he mop? I don’t understand.
Oh wait: “…customized according to a wide range of user requirements…”
He’s an escort. Asimo, the back-door robot. Although it must take a crane and a team of experts to restore him to vertical position after the post-coital smoke.
Transparent concrete. (via travelers’ diagram)
The personal site of a man killed killed in the WTC attack. Last blog entry on the 23rd of August. Recent posts in the guestbook, including one from his parents on Christmas Day. (via pop culture junk mail)
…and best wishes to you, of the non-denominational variety. Take ‘er easy with the ones you love. Eat mightily. Rest up, as before you know it you’ll be back at your soul-draining job, if you’re lucky enough to have one.
Of course, you all come here for the latest news from the world of dance, so here it is. Via soapboxgirls: Yatta!, the best in naked Japanese dancing (Windows Media Player required). And via littleyellowdifferent, hiphop dance instruction from a lanky, suit-wearing German (QuickTime required).
Vanilla Sky is yet another recent mindfuck film, like The Game, The Matrix, Waking
Life, Eyes Wide Shut, Fight Club, Totall Recall, ExistenZ, 12 Monkeys, Memento, Lost Highway, and Mullholland Drive. So what makes a mindfuck film?
Well, I’m not exactly sure (I’m making this up as I go along – this ain’t no
film-texbook genre). One thing to look for is a hefty plot twist, one
that forces the protagonist to question reality itself. Said reality tends
to be nothing more than a simulation, and a conspiratorial simulation at
that. Common themes are waking/dreaming, truth/fiction, self-deception as
vacation, etc. In many ways these films can be traced to Hitchcock
(especially the plot twists of Vertigo and Psycho). In almost all ways
they can be linked with Philip Dick.
It’s also notable that many concern
themselves, directly or tangentially, with videogames. The Game – well, look
at the title; ExistenZ is explicitly about videogames; The Matrix big-freeze
effect is inspired by videogames’ 3D replays. My pet theory at the moment is
a McLuhanist one. He argued strongly for art’s prognosticative role, in
particular its ability to warn of cultural changes brought about by
the onset of a new medium. In this case the fearsome new medium is
videogames, with their simulative ability growing every day.
Inspired by mageebags’ post yesterday, I think we should all lobby for .pants as a new top-level domain. I have deliberated carefully, and am convinced that every single domain name sounds better with pants at the end. Sankey.pants, yahoo.pants, audiogalaxy.pants, yourdomain.pants. Fuck .biz. This is something we should all get behind.
I’ve messed around with the entire site. I talked, and talked, and talked, and now I finally did it. The backend is now MT, and the frontend is all crazy-redesigned. Now I need your help. As always, different browsers display things differently, so I don’t know how my pages look on your browser, and I need you to tell me. So hit ‘comments’ below and tell me. Thanks.
And all the usual apologies if you get 404 errors all over the place. What can I say, I’m a complete hack.
I’m all aped-up. For work, I have watched all five original apes movies, and last night viewed the Burton remake. (It seems like he’s saving up Hollywood cred for something weird, as his last two films have had fairly low ambitions.) What interests me, besides ape design work you can find the Apes font here, which conveniently doubles as a Star Wars font is the issue of race. My parents tell me that at the time of the original, this theme was not recognized publicly. Yet clearly today it is, by some at least. I would dismiss that sort of article as projection, but race comes up explicitly in the third and especially in the fourth film, where enslaved apes stage a rebellion. Not that this makes the metaphilm article any better although I suspect the intention is not so much to be good but shocking (and traffic-generating). Yet we could easily say that the secondary theme to the whole narrative, behind nuclear apocalypse, is race. I heard criticism of documentarian Ken Burns for being too race-obsessed. Maybe he’s right, though. I can think of a few other American classics that concerned themselves with race.
This will be everywhere, but hell, it’s funny: the Megway is here.
Kris in his banter pointed out that he was like a martial arts master and that he is always prepared. He noted that when he released the ‘Return Of The Boom Bap’ album in ’94 that he put all rappers on notice. He said that anyone who came out after ’94 were subject to having their careers end at any given moment. KRS claimed that when he hears a new artists come on the scene.. that he immediately writes a rhyme that will totally dismantle him and his career. He keeps those rhymes in the back of his head just in case he has to take some kid out..
Forget martial arts master, he sounds like J. Edgar Hiphop. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to battle with him. Anyway, it’s from a great thing on MC battling and KRS-One’s domination thereof.
TV show idea: Celebrity Polygraph.
Work, life, and various secretive projects have conspired to rob me of blogging time. There should be free time next week, at which point I foresee drastic changes to this site. I’ve just bumped Caesar up to moveable type, and the same may happen here. But no new posts for a few days. Go here, here, or if you’d rather be watching Japanese TV, here or here.
Oh dear… I forgot about World AIDS Day and link and think and everything else, and instead posted some garbage about baseheads. That’s pretty impressive. Note to self: try to post about something even remotely significant now and then.
TV ad voiceover: what could a family of sportscars teach an SUV?
TV ad child (whispered): Zoom zoom.
Josh (upset): This ad disturbs me. I feel physically sick whenever I see it.
Me: Hmm, that’s probably not the intended effect…
Baseheads! A friend has been burning discs of the BBC’s breezeblock radio show; the one I’ve been loving is a set by Cut La Roc. One of the songs samples someone saying “Baseheads!” Mr. La Roc (or possibly the origial sampler) has ramped up the speed, and at one point the sample is looped: “Baseheads! Baseheads! Baseheads! Baseheads!” The effect is of great basehead-related excitement. Now I’m thinking Baseheads! The Musical might not be a bad idea. “A thrilling ride … a celebration of baseheads’ indefatigable joie de vivre … an uplifting must-see!” is what the critics would inevitably say.
The Traffic Gods are smiling and blowing kisses. More thanks are due on my part: thanks to blogger for linking to Caesar, to textism for linking to Wolf Hardeyk, and to shift for picking this site as their top weblog. Shucks. You freaks are crazy.
Holy living fuck, does anyone have any vacation property on Mars they’re not using?
I was listening to some B-grade trance music that I was hoping to use for a …. all right, long story, so although I hate to, let me say simply I was listening to some B-grade trance music while reading about all the human cloning brouhaha, when gradually my brain laid a new track over the lackluster beats, in droning robo-dance voice: “clo-ning vats… clo-ning vats… clo-ning vats…”
Sid Meier predicted this some time ago. I say bring on the brood pits, drones, and punishment spheres. Hell, if God and the Republicans are against this thing, I know where I stand.
Gotta love the term jestergate, in reference to this. (via Metatalk)
I believe in Wolf Hardeyk’s unique rage management system.
A new collage is up: sweetie. This one scares me somewhat.
(via mighty girl) excellent comic.
Oh, and while I’m here, let me give thanks for bad dubbing, mayonnaise, God’s Hockey Team; thanks for Maestro Fresh-Wes, Slick Rick and Woody Allen; thanks for my polarized old-man shades with reinforced side-shading; thanks for the semi-colon; thanks for Baudrillard, for Howard Hughes, and for Marshall McLuhan. Thanks for robot dogs, aging rockers, jumpsuits, and photography. Thanks for wearing your underwear outside your pants, superheroes; thanks for thanking me for the thank-you note, Willard. Thank you, brain, for the memories; thank you, hamburger, for the calories. Thanks for reading.
That’s got to rank right up there on the Carried Away Scale, if anyone’s keeping track.
Hunting for answers to an important question: who did all the dubbing for kung fu films of the sixties and seventies? I know it’s the same bunch of people, and some unfathomable reason I need to know their life stories, every last one. As usual, I don’t turn up what I’m looking for, but find some interesting stuff nonetheless. Here’s a great memoir of work as a dubber. Did you know that in Greystoke, the eighties Tarzan movie, Glen Close dubbed Andie McDowell’s lines in their entirety? Apparently McDowell royally messed up the accent not surprising, really. And finally, did you know the voice of Optimus Prime and Eeyore is the voice for most of Hollywood’s trailers?