Some WIP for an upcoming performance: 1,047 syllables from H.G. Wells’ Time Machine input to word2vec space, then reduced from 50 dimensions to two. View a much larger version here.
A detail of one of the syllable swirls.
Software, hardware, art – a blog of process and findings
Some WIP for an upcoming performance: 1,047 syllables from H.G. Wells’ Time Machine input to word2vec space, then reduced from 50 dimensions to two. View a much larger version here.
A detail of one of the syllable swirls.
This is a wonderful poem (via English vowels and diphthongs)
A few weeks ago, I was doing some research on the Autopen, a device invented in the 1940s (though its predecessor was created in 1803 by Thomas Jefferson) to automatically duplicate signatures using a real pen. During my reading, I found mention of this insane book, which I was lucky enough to get on Inter-Library Loan.
“The Robot That Helped To Make A President,” written in 1965, is intended for autograph collectors so they could more easily identify real John F. Kenney’s signatures and ones generated by the Autopen. The title alone is worth the price of admission, but I think is more than just camp. It sits historically right between the thoroughly mechanized but still mostly analog era and one where computers are everywhere and do basically everything. The Autopen isn’t just a frustration for autograph aficionados, it’s also a metaphor for the computer replacing something that seems like it should be entirely human: writing one’s name on a piece of paper.
While the language is a mix of 60s goof and a techno-hope (a “huge, faceless robot” which “signs a photograph for his master”), I find this book such a beautiful, physical manifestation of anxiety and intrigue about technology.
Most of the book is autograph collection minutiae, but if you stick it out to the end, you’re rewarded with a beautiful light-blue-colored overlay titled “Seven Robot Signatures” used to test autographs in the wild.
Glitch trying to use Photoshop’s stack focusing algorithm on a barely-there image.
An amazing image via my colleague Alex Wellerstein: a muster roll for the USS Growler from 1963, crumpled up before being shot to microfilm. If I had to choose, I think I like glitched data the best.
Thanks Alex for the image (via US National Archives and Records Administration).