Skip to main content

Type Research Diary — part 6

As this is a diary, I will allow myself a small rant.

This concerns me, who have gotten too used to working in a certain way, and computers, which have accustomed me to working that way.

If the term prosthetic memory means nothing to you, here is a short explanation: it is a device you use to extend the recollective function of your brain. In the past, this would have been a dictaphone, a piece of paper, an elephant you keep under your desk to remember things for you. I also have a grey beast lurking under mine. Not only is it a prosthetic to my memory, it also extends my abilities in other areas.

About a month ago, this useful monster took ill, as some of those who read me on Facebook may have come to realise. After a few shops, we finally found a group of benevolent witch- doctkrs willing and able to heal the ailing animal. Their price is of course exhorbitant, but their services, once rendered will prove invaluable.

Will prove, as the winter snow has done more than disrupt the Christmas flight pattern of Homo Sapiens Sapiens, it also seems to have forced vital electronic organs into hibernation. As I sit and hammer this out on a virtual keyboard, a graphics card is not being delivered on time. So I wait.

Why do I wait? Notes can be taken on paper, data can be collected, compiled and compared by hand. Surely, ten years of digital work have not robbed you of the ability to write, mein herr?

I do not think that I have lost the ability to write a few lines and then transcribe these into a digital format. What has happened, however, is that I havr grown very used to having not only the facts at my disposal, but also the ability to collar them efficiently into easy- to- copy spreadsheets, allowing for a quick transition from data to design. I don't see why I should have to do thus more than once.

As much as I enjoy working in the analogue and trying to decipher quick, hand- writ notes, given the growing amount of data I am faced with, everything in me is screaming to go digital and analyse in that mode. To turn all the human interaction I have had in the course of this project into a string of ones and ohs, which can then be manipulated at whim and will, with the luxury of undo.

I sat down and tried doing this the old- fashioned way a couple of nights ago. I sat down on my sofa- cum- study, lit a ceremonial candle and began to listen and write. Two pages of notes, time- stamps and remarks later, it strikes me that this is a waste of paper.

This rant ends now. For those of you who made it this far, you will find posters trouveés in relation to this research here: carambolage.tumblr.com/

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

IGAF: Utopia- Les Jours Meilleurs

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote this post, titled Dystopia , containing a dark version of the future, a look at the negative outcomes that might crawl out of the COVID-19 crisis. It has, by now been described as "9/11 in slow motion". Someone else broke a golden editorial rule to describe it as "2008  on crack". Media outlets, including Youtube, have warned of the long-term effects of this, on civil rights, labour and employment, surveillance and press freedom. And some, most notably Mr Orban of Hungary, have used this excellent opportunity to pass new, restrictive legislation that concentrates power in their hands. There have been calls for the elusive COVID cure not to be patented. And yet… And yet… It's easy to lose yourself in a media bubble, following the news and media 24/7, following, queuing in line to get into expensive shops, just walking into discount stores and the constant desire for many drinks (preferably with 10 friends or more, in a park

In Taheyya we Trust - How an Egyptian bellydancer found her posthumous stage in Berlin

“You should have winked at her,” Aida said dismissively, as if such a possibility had been imaginable for someone as timid as I was. Tahia Carioca was the most stunning and long-lived of the Arab world’s Eastern dancers (belly-dancers, as they are called today). Edward Said, Farewell to Taheyya My story with Taheyya begins in the summer of 2016, at Bulbuls Café in Görlitzer Str. in Berlin.  It ends two blocks down on Wiener Str 17.  Bulbuls is a café and art space around my corner that I have grown to like to sit in and drink smoothies (1). He had commissiond us- a crew of Syrian and Egyptian artists, as well as myself, to paint the walls inside the café. El Tenneen (the Dragon) is the one who ended up drawing Sheikh Imam, with the help of Salam Alhassan (known as Salahef/ Turtles) and Sulafa Hijazis (whom we call El Hayya/The Snake’s) beamers’ illumination. The Sheikh sits happily in the place to this day and Crew El-Zoo was born. Tenneen had the adv

Random Browsing gets me a new face.

Two o'clock in the morning is generally a good time to randomly surf the web and the blogs. This lovely lady, known to me only as Wow Legs, points the blogophere in general to this brilliant Manga face creator . Akin to the Simpsonize me Viral effort, this allows you to create a mangaesque face for yourself, using prefab elements that actually work. Hours of fun to be had here. I think this might be how some tv cartoons are made, right down to the script, except that they don't possess the power of a handsome jawline. Just to clarify: This is Wow Legs manga avatar. Generally, I try not to mangafy people I haven't seen in real life. The picture above is something I threw together as a test. UPDATE: I don't know what happened here, but my clarification seems to have caused more damage than good. As my editorial standards prevent me from knowingly misinforming you, I posted the clarification (above) to do exactly that and not mislead the reader. I also wanted to preserve