This is a bit contrarian, but still a healthy argument against TED, the Technology, Entertainment, and Design conference.
We live in a world of increasingly networked knowledge. And it’s a world that allows us to appreciate what has always been true: that new ideas are never sprung, fully formed, from the heads of the inventors who articulate them, but are always — always — the result of discourse and interaction and, in the broadest sense, conversation. The author-ized idea, claimed and owned and bought and sold, has been, it’s worth remembering, an accident of technology. Before print came along, ideas were conversational and free-wheeling and collective and, in a very real sense, “spreadable.” It wasn’t until Gutenberg that ideas could be both contained and mass-produced — and then converted, through that paradox, into commodities. TED’s notion of “ideas worth spreading” — the implication being that spreading is itself a work of hierarchy and curation — has its origins in a print-based world of bylines and copyrights. It insists that ideas are, in the digital world, what they have been in the analog: packagable and ownable and claimable.
When the game designer of Duke Nukem was adapting the Overlook Hotel to make it one of the levels in the first person shooter, he noticed many spatial impossibilities. Doors that weren’t supposed to be there, windows that aren’t supposed to be there, and rooms that shouldn’t be there. That’s how Rob Ager gets interested in the spatial impossibilities of The Shining. I think it’s time I give this film another view.
For all you font nerds.
Design reigned supreme in the 20th century, when it was an integral part of the way artists, publishers, governments and political parties communicated to the first mass audiences.
Message and presentation were inextricably intertwined, with the latter lending power, impact and even meaning to the former. Not for nothing was Marshall McLuhan able to say, with gnomic brevity but not a little insight, “the medium is the message.”
This is hell sexy. By Oscar Diaz.
The ink is absorbed slowly, and the numbers in the calendar are “printed” daily. One a day, they are filled with ink until the end of the month. A calendar self-updated, which enhances the perception of time passing and not only signaling it.
The ink colors are based on a spectrum, which relate to a “color temperature scale”, each month having a color related to our perception of the whether on that month. The colors range from dark blue in December to, three shades of green in spring or oranges, red in the summer.