Tweenbots by Kacie Kinzer:
Given their extreme vulnerability, the vastness of city space, the dangers posed by traffic, suspicion of terrorism, and the possibility that no one would be interested in helping a lost little robot, I initially conceived the Tweenbots as disposable creatures which were more likely to struggle and die in the city than to reach their destination. Because I built them with minimal technology, I had no way of tracking the Tweenbot’s progress, and so I set out on the first test with a video camera hidden in my purse. I placed the Tweenbot down on the sidewalk, and walked far enough away that I would not be observed as the Tweenbot––a smiling 10-inch tall cardboard missionary––bumped along towards his inevitable fate.
The results were unexpected. Over the course of the following months, throughout numerous missions, the Tweenbots were successful in rolling from their start point to their far-away destination assisted only by strangers. Every time the robot got caught under a park bench, ground futilely against a curb, or became trapped in a pothole, some passerby would always rescue it and send it toward its goal. Never once was a Tweenbot lost or damaged. Often, people would ignore the instructions to aim the Tweenbot in the “right” direction, if that direction meant sending the robot into a perilous situation. One man turned the robot back in the direction from which it had just come, saying out loud to the Tweenbot, “You can’t go that way, it’s toward the road.”
The Tweenbot’s unexpected presence in the city created an unfolding narrative that spoke not simply to the vastness of city space and to the journey of a human-assisted robot, but also to the power of a simple technological object to create a complex network powered by human intelligence and asynchronous interactions. But of more interest to me, was the fact that this ad-hoc crowdsourcing was driven primarily by human empathy for an anthropomorphized object. The journey the Tweenbots take each time they are released in the city becomes a story of people’s willingness to engage with a creature that mirrors human characteristics of vulnerability, of being lost, and of having intention without the means of achieving its goal alone. As each encounter with a helpful pedestrian takes the robot one step closer to attaining it’s destination, the significance of our random discoveries and individual actions accumulates into a story about a vast space made small by an even smaller robot.
AwwWWWWWWAHHHHHHHHHHHH.
*weeps all over the place* I have robot feelings, okay?
Always reblog bot feels.
tearing up because cute robots and cute humans helping then
(via maneatingbadger)
(Source: debramorgan, via fauxkaren)
(Source: marchingjaybird, via oodlyenough)
Frozen Glass
I was pretty shocked to find out just how little liquid fresh water Earth contains, like we saw in this post. But I was equally shocked to find out that as much as one-fifth of Earth’s fresh water is locked up in the beauty above: Lake Baikal.
Siberia’s Lake Baikal, not only the world’s oldest lake at ~25 million years of age, is the largest single fresh water source on the planet. The water is so deep and so pure that when it freezes it becomes a sort of cold, turquoise glass, giving an observer a lens that can see over 100 feet straight down.
(via maneatingbadger)
"Redefining a word isn’t always the same as giving it a new meaning. Sometimes you’re just trying to pare it down to the core concept that people missed the first time around. Dictionary definitions of “camera” used to mention film and plates; now they just refer to a photosensitive surface. But the meaning of “camera” isn’t different; it’s just that now technology lets us see what its essence has been all along."
— Geoff Nunberg on how dictionaries are even grappling with getting ‘marriage’ right (via nprfreshair)
(via maneatingbadger)
This Is Getting Out Of Hand.png
I’ve never laughed so hard at YouTube comments
(via blahstuff)
Brent Christensen constructs massive towers that he has coined Ice Castles. The monuments are made entirely out of ice with no supporting substructure. “Christensen’s series of Ice Castlesare unpredictably constructed towers of ice fortified by more ice. The enchantingly frosty structures start off with a pool of water, naturally frozen atop grass, as their foundation. From there, the artist attaches countless icicles, using water to cement them in place, with the help of about 20 crew members who work tirelessly to deliver Christensen’s self-made icicles from his personal rack, where water drips and forms 3,000 to 5,000 icicles per day. Millions of gallons of water are used for each castle’s assembly, allowing it to reach heights of 20 to 25 feet. Additionally, the interior design of the chilly architectural constructions include tunnels, archways, walls, and stairs. At night, they’re even illuminated from within by multi-colored LED lights, heightening the magical air of the setting.”
I am sick to death of everything frozen, snowy or wintry, but even I can admit this is pretty damn cool.
(via maneatingbadger)
