This is a screen cap of
a mapped diagram of real Web attacks mounted against "honeypot" trap sites set by Norse to masquerade as various types of typical targets. Norse captures information from the attacks to build a database on attackers and their methods.
Every few minutes a huge attack mounted from thousands of Chinese addresses will completely obscure the outlines of the United States on the map. Oddly enough, the second greatest number of attacks against US honeypots seem to come from US addresses.
Most of the attacks are aimed towards the US because that is where Norse has the greatest wherewithal to establish fake server "honeypots."
You can follow on G+...their posts seem to refer to a completely different world than most of us perceive.
I'm not sure that I "buy" (in the sense that I trust the whole truth of) this, but Mister Finch is a soi-disant "self-taught fabric artist" in Leeds in Yorkshire who lives with insane cats, drinks a great deal of tea, and makes sculptures of giant bugs, dead birds, anthropomorphic small animals, and fungi from "up-cycled" cloth, rugs, and other found textiles.
He sells these creations through an Etsy page and some shop in York. He writes that he imagines "them to come alive at night, getting dressed and helping an elderly shoemaker or a tired housewife." Mister Finch aims to inject "a bit of old-fashioned magic back into the world," or so he claims.
I happen to know this because I was gifted with his self-titled, cutesy but disturbing book for my Halloweenish birthday. (Seems appropriate, don't you think?) These elaborated stuffed figures are often arranged therein in set pieces reminiscent of a Brian Froud concept design for some forgotten Henson movie.
The pseudo-fairytale conceit charms, while the dripping nostalgia makes me want to run away screaming. And who has a name like that? Still, I would "buy" (in the sense that I would exchange money for) one of his creations, maybe the giant spider serving tea in a doll's cup...
These images come from his website and a recent Remodelista article.
Do you ever need anti-seizure medication? You might want to have some on hand before you visit Moon Hoon's website.
He sets off the demolition behind him in the screen-cap below by hitting himself in the head with the detonation control. Honestly, is there a designer in the world having more fun than Moon Hoon?
He's got a book out, too. I've got to go through my contacts and find someone in South Korea who can get me a copy.
Circle of Abstract Ritual by Jeff Frost is a stop-motion film that "took 300,000 photos, riots, wildfires, paintings in abandoned houses, two years and zero graphics to make." To watch it, you will need to go to the full Vimeo webpage (it will not embed properly on G+).
Frost explains his motivations for this piece in his notes below the video on the that Vimeo page.
Stills, downloads, and other projects are available through his website:
I find his explanation for this huge effort to be slightly unsatisfactory, though. It's all very beguiling, visually. But can one really hint at the ineffable, though, in any medium? Is there really more than a narrative structure here, an ordering of images without anything behind it but a process of mechanical transitions? If there was more, wouldn't it be knowable ?
Yes, that seems just right.
If by some chance you don't know about the one-and-only absolutely historical Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico:
I have no idea why this image looks so odd...is it just an example of "shaky HDR camera phone through a windshield" syndrome?
...just a thought, of course, and this is a long and difficult novel to read, so since tomorrow is Halloween perhaps you might put it off until next year.
I happen to be reading it coincidentally now with the soi-disant "holiday." Oddly enough, I found the novel on a list, published long ago, of David Bowie's "Top 100 Books."
...that I hadn't heard of it and hadn't read it is proof (as if any was needed) of the quintessentially provincial nature of my education. But I do know something about the historical ( real? ) Nicholas Hawksmoor, no thanks to my quintessentially provincial education at Yale School of Architecture years ago. No one there ever mentioned that Hawksmoor or his spatially-complex and syncretic churches, but some reference somewhere had caught my interest and I had ordered for myself a book on that man, a one-time apprentice for Christopher Wren.
The 1985 novel by Peter Ackroyd is not about that Hawksmoor, but "the action" is set around (in two different periods, the late Seventeenth-early Eighteenth century and the mid-1980's) those remarkable six churches in London that the "real" Hawksmoor designed.
In the novel, an architect named Nicholas Dyer is the author of those churches (the six "real" ones and one fictive additional edifice) and assistant to the great Sir Christopher Wren in the rebuilding of London following the Fire. And better than half of the narrative is first-person on the part of Dyer, who is both a pitiable figure and a very, very bad man under almost any terms except his own.
In the novel, Nicholas Hawksmoor is the name of the police detective in the mid-1980's investigating a series of unusual murders in the vicinities of these same churches.
I wrote above that it was entirely coincidental that I found myself reading this novel before Halloween.
The novel strongly asserts that there are no coincidences. And time may not behave the way we typically imagine it should.
Leger Wanaselja Architecture in Berkeley, California is best known for "green" residential projects prominently incorporating metal and glass salvaged from defunct automobiles.
While web-surfing through their portfolio, I happened to notice that they applied the same idea to the creation of a sort of temporary shed. Note the elaborate interior "texture", where the ribbed "structural" side of the incorporated car hoods is clearly visible.
I'm just fascinated: it's like an obscure form of ornament. I feel that this aspect of the salvaged material deserves more prominence, either on the outside of a building or exposed inside a more-permanent, inhabited structure.
So with the Snicker's Bars and Hershey's Kisses, I will be handing out stories as well.
"My, what a great fairy princess costume! Here's your candy, and here's a copy of 'Seaton's Aunt' to recall to you the vulnerabilities of childhood and the betrayals of adulthood. And to make you mistrust old women with big hair."
- LW4Principal, or possibly Chief Cultist, 2008 - present
- Boston Architectural CollegeInstructor, 2007 - 2013
Lewis Wadsworth is a designer, artist, and teacher in Boston, Massachusetts.
Lewis' architectural projects have appeared in AIArchitect, the journal of the American Institute of Architects, and have been honored by the Boston Society of Architects. He has also illustrated projects for architecture firms in the United States, Australia, and Japan. He teaches 3D design and software courses at the Boston Architectural College. He has served as a technical adviser on software manuals, and oddly enough sometimes is paid to tell publishers what he thinks about proposed books on software commonly used by architects.
Lewis also fences with an épée. A lot. And yes, that is a type of sword.
- Yale School of ArchitectureMaster of Architecture, 2001 - 2005(where, notably, he was told by the same fool who gave Maya Lin a "B" for her Vietnam Veterans Memorial project that he was too "unconventional" to be an architect)
- Dartmouth CollegeA.B. Visual Studies, 1986 - 1990(where he learned a few things, mostly concerning the habits of obscure Roman emperors. You have to be pretty decadent to invent veal.)