Thursday, August 30, 2012

Sontg thoughts

The Magnetic Fields- The Sun Go Down and the World Goes Dancing
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_P06ywo6aVw)
Stereolab- Cybele’s Reverie
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkaJ5z9QBZQ)
Talking Heads- This Must Be the Place
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cqg_ZGcuybs)
The Velvet Underground- I’ll Be Your Mirror
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-sKzMEQ6MUo&feature=related)
Beach Boys- Why Do Fools Fall in Love
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zxd0gqP5Phg)
Sea of Love, (maybe Tom Waits)
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVJAW-ag7fs)
Otis Redding- That’s How Strong My Love Is
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7T9HKmERv0)
Yo La Tango- Our Way to Fall
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAVqDFFA4oE)
Edith Piaf- Hymn to Love
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WBjctartwBQ&feature=related)
The Dixie Cups- Going to the Chapel of Love
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WCcguiMik5M&feature=related)
Mel Carter- Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwGZHfMMXSQ&feature=fvwrel)
 Alanis Morissette- Head Over Feet
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBgP44KEf3Q)
The Beatles- All You Need is Love
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4p8qxGbpOk)

(maybe) Baby It’s Cold Outside
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-70qMhLfjLI)
 (maybe) The Platters- Only You
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QT-JUj-0bg8)
(maybe) Ben E. King- Stand By Me
(maybe) Lois Armstrong- What a Wonderful World
 (maybe) Tracey Chapman- For You
Patsy Cline- I Go Out Walking (too sad)
(maybe) Frank Sinatra- The Way You Look Tonight
(maybe) The Roommates- The Glory of Love
(maybe) Whitney Houston- I Want to Dance With Somebody
(maybe) Stevie Wonder- I Just Called to Say I Love You
(maybe) The Cure- Lovesong
(maybe) Nina Simone- To love somebody
(maybe) Josephine Baker

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Karl Rove Rapping It Up

morality, progress

All change made in the name of power is called progress.  Evolution and morality are seperate.  We live according to the laws of economy.  Morality and economy are intrensicly linked.  Progress is a way to make it all look 'right'.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Kendi by Daniel Eskils (Music: Otis by Durutti Column)

DNA Info


Harvard cracks DNA storage, crams 700 terabytes of data into a single gram

DNA strand, over a page of TGAC base pairs

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A bioengineer and geneticist at Harvard’s Wyss Institute have successfully stored 5.5 petabits of data — around 700 terabytes — in a single gram of DNA, smashing the previous DNA data density record by a thousand times.
The work, carried out by George Church and Sri Kosuri, basically treats DNA as just another digital storage device. Instead of binary data being encoded as magnetic regions on a hard drive platter, strands of DNA that store 96 bits are synthesized, with each of the bases (TGAC) representing a binary value (T and G = 1, A and C = 0).
To read the data stored in DNA, you simply sequence it — just as if you were sequencing the human genome — and convert each of the TGAC bases back into binary. To aid with sequencing, each strand of DNA has a 19-bit address block at the start (the red bits in the image below) — so a whole vat of DNA can be sequenced out of order, and then sorted into usable data using the addresses.
Encoding and decoding DNA data storage
Scientists have been eyeing up DNA as a potential storage medium for a long time, for three very good reasons: It’s incredibly dense (you can store one bit per base, and a base is only a few atoms large); it’s volumetric (beaker) rather than planar (hard disk); and it’s incredibly stable — where other bleeding-edge storage mediums need to be kept in sub-zero vacuums, DNA can survive for hundreds of thousands of years in a box in your garage.
It is only with recent advances in microfluidics and labs-on-a-chip that synthesizing and sequencing DNA has become an everyday task, though. While it took years for the original Human Genome Project to analyze a single human genome (some 3 billion DNA base pairs), modern lab equipment with microfluidic chips can do it in hours. Now this isn’t to say that Church and Kosuri’s DNA storage is fast — but it’s fast enough for very-long-term archival.
Just think about it for a moment: One gram of DNA can store 700 terabytes of data. That’s 14,000 50-gigabyte Blu-ray discs… in a droplet of DNA that would fit on the tip of your pinky. To store the same kind of data on hard drives — the densest storage medium in use today — you’d need 233 3TB drives, weighing a total of 151 kilos. In Church and Kosuri’s case, they have successfully stored around 700 kilobytes of data in DNA — Church’s latest book, in fact — and proceeded to make 70 billion copies (which they claim, jokingly, makes it the best-selling book of all time!) totaling 44 petabytes of data stored.
Looking forward, they foresee a world where biological storage would allow us to record anything and everything without reservation. Today, we wouldn’t dream of blanketing every square meter of Earth with cameras, and recording every moment for all eternity/human posterity — we simply don’t have the storage capacity. There is a reason that backed up data is usually only kept for a few weeks or months — it just isn’t feasible to have warehouses full of hard drives, which could fail at any time. If the entirety of human knowledge — every book, uttered word, and funny cat video — can be stored in a few hundred kilos of DNA, though… well, it might just be possible to record everything (hello, police state!)
It’s also worth noting that it’s possible to store data in the DNA of living cells — though only for a short time. Storing data in your skin would be a fantastic way of transferring data securely…

Terry Riley rare footage, live in the 70s

Brian Eno "Everything Merges With The Night"

Weaving software into core memory by hand





The Computer for the Apollo Program Used Rope Memory Woven by Little Old Ladies

If you thought the fact that an iPhone was four times as powerful as the on-board computer of the Curiosity Rover was unbelievable, take a look at the meager tech the Apollo Program used to get into space. The computer was so pitiful that the software of the Apollo guidance computer was literally hand woven into its memory.
The overall memory of the Apollo Guidance Computer was equivalent to 72kb (in modern terms) and the software had to be woven into the core rope memory, women in factories put the software together by looping wires through a core and around a core to represent the 1's and 0's of computer programs. As you could imagine, the process was extremely slow, tedious and a nightmare to put together but still... space! These things were used to go to space! Unbelievable. 

Heil Honey I'm Home Home (higher quality) 1of3



Whoa

Kosovo Picnic

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Jackson C. Frank - Tumble In the Wind (version 1)

Paul and Irma Milstein

http://www.paulandirmamilsteinfoundation.org/

Tisch Family

The Tisch Family

Bob and Larry Tisch were born in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, in the 1920’s. After graduating from New York University and Wharton, Larry purchased a winter resort in New Jersey with $125,000 in seed money from his parents. Bob joined him two years later and they started buying up hotels, then gained control of the Loews movie chain and diversified into tobacco, insurance and offshore drilling. Massive philanthropists, they joined the upper ranks of society, including membership in the Century, the classic “Our Crowd” country club.
Hardly a New York institution escaped the brothers’ largess. They donated enough to N.Y.U. to warrant the Tisch School of the Arts and the Tisch Hospital at the N.Y.U. Medical Center; there are also the Tisch Galleries at the Metropolitan Museum. Larry gave heavily to the Central Park Zoo, while Bob was patron to a variety of institutions, including the 92nd Street Y and Take the Field, a charity he founded to revitalize the city’s sports fields.
“They’re much more oriented toward institutions that are most important in the lives of average New Yorkers than on fine arts,” said Kathy Wylde, the C.E.O. of the New York City Partnership. “This is a born-in-Brooklyn dynasty that was characterized by no airs, no pretensions, no excessive display of their significant wealth—really no display of their significant wealth.”
When Larry Tisch took the reins at CBS, the network had been mismanaged for a decade. He protected it from an alliance of corporate raiders and conservative politicians, cleaned up the balance sheet and engineered a sale to Westinghouse—a deal that brought NBC’s shareholders significant profits. Meanwhile, Bob was busy as part owner of the New York Giants.
Larry died in 2003, and Bob followed him two years later to the day. Surviving them are their widows, Billie and Joan, seven Tisch children and 23 grandchildren.
Last month, the clan gathered for the wedding of 25-year-old Jessica Tisch, the daughter of Jim Tisch (Larry’s son) and his wife, Merryl. It was a several-hundred-person affair with a mirrored dance floor, held in a tent behind the Seagram Building. Merryl’s father, Rabbi Philip Hiat, married the couple at Central Synagogue.
It was in 1999 that Bob and Larry announced the company’s succession plan: Jim would be the C.E.O. of Loews Corp., while Bob’s son Jonathan inherited his father’s role as C.E.O. of the hotels. Larry’s son Andrew is chairman of the executive committee of the Loews board. Additionally, the brothers made all three sons equal members of the office of the president—a unique power-sharing arrangement that seems designed to head off family strife.
Not surprisingly, Jim, 53 (who reportedly earned the nickname “Little Larry” for his ability to spot undervalued businesses), and his wife Merryl are the power couple of the clan. Both are closely involved with Jewish causes: Jim is the former president of the U.J.A. Federation of New York, and Merryl chairs the board of the Metropolitan Council on Jewish Poverty. She is also a member of the Board of Regents, the state committee that oversees New York State’s educational system.
The outspoken conservative of the family is Larry’s son Tommy, 52, who runs one of the brothers’ investment funds, Four Partners, which sometimes goes by the name FLF (short for “Four Lucky Fellows”). He sits on the board of the Manhattan Institute for Policy Research, supported John Faso for Governor and is an investor in The New York Sun. In true Tisch fashion, he is on the board of the N.Y.U. Medical Center as well as Brown University. His wife, Alice, has been active on the board of the Brearley School.
Andrew, 57, is on the board of PENCIL, the nonprofit known for its “Principal for a Day” program, and the City Parks Foundation. His wife Ann, a former reporter for NBC, co-founded an all-girls public school in Harlem.
Unlike his brothers, who all live on the Upper East Side, Daniel, 55, lives in Scarsdale with his wife, Bonnie, and runs another family fund, Mentor Partners. They are both active in Jewish causes, and Mr. Tisch sits on the N.Y.U. board.
“Each of the brothers is different—I think their parents encouraged that,” said Malcolm Hoenlein, a family friend and the executive vice chairman of the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations.
Like his father Bob, Jonathan, 53, is the public face of the hotels. Now a bachelor, his wedding to Laura Steinberg, the daughter of Saul Steinberg, was held at the Metropolitan Museum’s Temple of Dendur and cost a reported $3 million. He’s an active Democratic fund-raiser. His sister Laurie, 55, who is divorced from Connecticut hedge-fund manager Donald Sussman, sits on the board of the Whitney and the Children’s Museum of Manhattan. She is also the chairwoman of the Center for Arts Education, a nonprofit group that works to improve arts education in the public schools. Their brother Steven, 57, is a producer who lives in Beverly Hills—the only Tisch child to leave the New York area. He’s the family’s point man in their shared ownership of the New York Giants.
As children, the Tisches would gather at one of the family houses in Rye on the weekends and also vacationed together at Loews family properties. Now the children are branching out. At least one now summers on the East End: Jonathan has a place in Bridgehampton.
The family has a decentralized, personal approach to philanthropy. Jonathan just gave $40 million to his alma mater, Tufts, while Andrew and James have given jointly to their alma mater, Cornell. And James and Merryl gave money in 2004 to create the Laurence A. Tisch Professorship in Social Sciences at Harvard.
None of the 23 grandchildren work at the company. So far.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

How to connect the Laptop to the TV

1. S-Video – This is probably the most common method out there currently because an S-Video cable is cheap as heck and just about every TV under the sun has a S-Video port. You’ll have to make sure you laptop is equipped with this port. Remember, there are two types of S-Video cables: 4-pin and 7-pin. Most laptops and PC’s are equipped with a 7-pin port, so if your TV only has a 4-pin S-Video port, then this method will not work.
2. VGA – If you have a HDTV, then you will be better off connecting using a VGA cable. It gives much better quality than S-Video and as with S-Video, the cable is very cheap. You usually won’t find a VGA port on regular TV’s though, so this option is if you have an HDTV.
3. DVI - DVI stands for Digital Visual Interface with “digital” being the key word there. The digital signal will give a higher quality picture than either S-Video or VGA. Of course, your computer will need to have a DVI connection and your TV will need to be an HDTV. This cord is definitely not cheap, it ranges anywhere from $40 to $80.
4. HDMI – Using HDMI will give you the best quality by far. No computers that I know of yet have HDMI ports, but you can get a DVI to HDMI cable to connect it to your HDTV. HDMI is compatible with DVI.
5. Scan Converter Box – This is the last method that I could think of and it involves using a scan converter box, which takes a VGA signal and converts it into S-Video or component video.
Here’s a graphic I created with some pictures of the various cables:
Video

24hpp

24hpp.com
Shinnosuke katsube
shin@24hpp.com
Took photos of 'Underpinnings', at House of Yes

Monday, August 13, 2012

Nauman Medicine Wheel

Medicine Wheel
The Lakota people consider the medicine wheel a sacred symbol, representing all the knowledge of the universe.
The outer circle represent the sacred outer boundary of the earth, often referred to as the sacred hoop. The center horizontal and vertical lines represent the sun and man’s sacred paths, respectively.  The crossing of the two lines indicates the center of the Earth where one stands when praying.
Each direction is associated with a sacred color.  The East represents the sun and its color is yellow.  The South is connected with life after dearth and is represented by the color red.  Black represents the west where the sun sets, and the color white represents winter’s home, which is in the north.

'Oh So Quiet', Blinky, Imi, Tacita, Merce, Cage from the Times

Art Review

Oh So Quiet

Tony Cenicola/The New York Times
Dia:Beacon Two installations commemorating artists now gone: Tacita Dean’s is six films with Merce Cunningham, honoring John Cage’s “4’33””.
Published: August 21, 2008
BEACON, N.Y. — Favorite sounds: Mafalda Favero singing “The Last Rose of Summer,” New York City at night, geese overhead, Joe’s voice, the cat’s purr, silence. Silence is the tough one, all but impossible to find. John Cage said it didn’t exist, not in this world, and illustrated the point in his famous composition “4’33,” ” first performed in 1952.
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Related

Times Topics: Merce Cunningham | John Cage

Tony Cenicola/The New York Times
Imi Knoebel’s paintings in homage to Blinky Palermo.
A musician with a stopwatch comes on stage, sits at a piano, more or less motionless, for 4 minutes 33 seconds, raising and lowering the keyboard cover to signal the beginning and end of movements.
Instead of music, or not-of-this-world silence, the audience hears itself: coughing, jangling, whispering, tittering and eventually, depending on the general mood, erupting into boos or applause. As scored by Cage, silence is the sound of life as we live it in real time. We just never stopped to listen before.
A filmed variation on Cage’s score is playing this summer at Dia:Beacon; it’s well worth spending time with. It’s one of two Dia installations that, in very different ways, quietly commemorate artists now gone whose names have a magic ring to contemporary ears.
The Cage piece is by the British artist Tacita Dean, and is loquaciously titled “Merce Cunningham performs Stillness (in three movements) to John Cage’s composition 4’33” with Trevor Carlson, New York City, 28 April 2007 (six Performances; six films).”
The six projected films run simultaneously in Dia’s wide, cryptlike basement gallery, and Mr. Cunningham, now almost 90, appears in all of them. A radical sovereign of American dance, he was Cage’s lover and creative collaborator for nearly half a century, until the composer’s death in 1992. Their collaboration continues here.
In all six films Mr. Cunningham, wearing sneakers and a lavender shirt, sits in a chair in a rehearsal studio against a smudgy wall-length mirror. He is shot from a different angle and distance in each: face front and close up, full length from the left side, and so on.
He is partnered by another performer, Trevor Carlson, who stands, sometimes in camera range, sometimes not, with a stopwatch. Periodically, he holds up a hand to mark the movements in the score. At each signal Mr. Cunningham changes position. He turns slightly, adjusts his weight, rests his head on a hand, resettles himself. The films are silent except for the recorded ambient noise picked up during the filming — Manhattan traffic, the squeak of the chair, maybe a sigh — and the whirr of projectors and whatever contributions viewers at Dia may add. But in this performance of “4’33” ” the emphasis is as much on the movement packed into stasis as on the sound in silence.
Along with Mr. Cunningham’s timed shifts of position there are countless chance actions: the twitch of his eyelid, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, now a little faster, now more slowly, the flickering shadow cast by the ghostly Mr. Carlson. We are pulled into the performance because our perceptions stay unstable. Are we looking at one performance filmed from six angles, or six separate performances, adding up to one long one? (It’s six adding up to one.) Which movement of Mr. Cunningham’s version of Cage are we seeing at any given time? Where and when does Ms. Dean’s piece, with its staggered comings and goings of images, begin or end?
It ends, of course, when you shut off the projectors and turn on the lights. But even then at least one part of it, sound — random and ambient — continues, after we leave the gallery and after Dia locks up for the night. (The work previously installed in the same basement gallery was Bruce Nauman’s surveillance video of “after hours” activity of cats and mice in his studio.)
Mr. Cunningham’s choreography has always had an existential dimension. “Stillness” is about duration and change, which are the same thing and are also the substance of life and history. Ms. Dean’s film of Mr. Cunningham’s performance is about the sound and motion of history in action: the personal history of one man’s fidelity to the memory of another; the cultural history of a living artist transmitting and rejuvenating the creative essence of one who has died; the contemporary history of a younger artist preserving and honoring all this, and the two men (the piece is above all a portrait of Mr. Cunningham) in her art.
The second homage on view at Dia:Beacon takes the form of an installation of two dozen large abstract paintings titled “24 Farben — für Blinky” (“24 Colors — for Blinky”), 1977, by the German artist Imi Knoebel.
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Tony Cenicola/The New York Times
Blinky Palermo’s “To the People of the City of New York,” top, painted after a stint living in the United States.

Related

Times Topics: Merce Cunningham | John Cage

Mr. Knoebel and the artist known as Blinky Palermo studied with Joseph Beuys in the late 1960s in Düsseldorf. Both were interested in abstract art, and they became close friends. Palermo — his original name was Peter Schwarze — lived in the United States from 1973 to 1976, and once back in Europe he produced a group of 40 paintings that he titled “To the People of New York City.”
Roughly the size of album covers, done in bands of red, yellow and black, the colors of the German flag, they suggest a cut-up version of Mondrian’s “Broadway Boogie Woogie.” The series is Palermo’s best-known work and his last. (Dia owns it, and it is on permanent view here.) Palermo died at 33, in 1977, and almost immediately Mr. Knoebel began work on his tribute.
Like Mr. Cunningham and Ms. Dean’s adaptation of Cage, it constituted a transfer of energy and influence. Before 1977 Mr. Knoebel had worked primarily in painted sculpture using a palette of white and black. In his Palermo piece he turned to painting and to color.
Not that their work is at all alike. In contrast to Palermo’s small foursquare panels of bars and stripes, Mr. Knoebel made large monochrome cutouts in bizarre shapes, some hinting at recognizable forms, like curled-up animals or distraught figures, but no two the same. Although he conceived “24 Colors” as a single work, its parts are not in sync. It’s like a giant jigsaw puzzle with pieces that can’t interlock.
In place of Palermo’s bright colors Mr. Knoebel chose bland, indeterminate hues: milky pinks, detergent blues, dull greens, very dusty roses. His goal, he said, was to create shapes and colors so vague in their oddness that they would neither hold the eye nor lodge in the memory. The Beacon installation reinforces the air of irresolution.
Paintings tumbling across a wall are interrupted by blank-looking stretches of empty space. Paintings that might have filled the spaces lean, unhung, against a gallery wall, in a stacked format Mr. Knoebel has used in sculptural pieces. The result is a sense of work in progress, or of a show being disassembled and destined for the warehouse.
In fact “24 Colors” was in storage for some 30 years, and when it was finally retrieved, Mr. Knoebel decided that it was in such bad shape that it was beyond salvaging. So he made a new version from scratch, which is what we see at Dia. This means, of course, that the thin line between restoration and re-creation has been breached, and you can almost hear the sound of voices raised in protest. Shouldn’t the original piece have been shown, whatever its condition? Isn’t a re-creation, even by the artist, historically inauthentic, an expensive fake?
I have no problem with the remake. The original was always meant as a conceptual gesture, a complicated act of self-assertion and self-abnegation, an exercise in loudness and dumbness, volubility and silence-seeking. The new version seems faithful to that. It will look old and “authentic” soon enough, and may then acquire a kind of authoritative voice it was never really meant to have.
Meanwhile it serves, as it was meant to, as an amplifying backdrop for Palermo’s voice, which is intense and distinctive. What is it like? Somewhat manic, tender and brash, evident in paintings that look as though they were alternately scuffed up as castoffs and coddled like pets. “To the People of New York City” is the visual equivalent of a heartfelt cheer, but also a passive-aggressive chuckle, with all those German flags.
In any case the sound of that voice is muted now. The paintings have become relics, and New York is no longer the city Palermo knew, though it still is a little. Friends still gather, lovers murmur together, cats purr in their sleep, birds fly over calling on their way to somewhere. All that’s there in Palermo’s kitchen table-size pictures, with their stripes like streets and their colors like the song of sirens on late summer nights.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

lady woman vision spider

George Perec

Larry Sultan

Marilyn

Elmer Batters

Redon
Fernand Khnopff

Odilon Redon, Crying Spider

Redon, Saint Sebastian

Fernand Khnopff


Marilyn

Elmer Batters

Monday, August 6, 2012

elvis presley - the wonder of you

Fools Rush In (Alternate Take 9) - Elvis Presley

Elvis Presley - Love Me Tender

Letter to R. Kelly

How are you?  Where are you?  S. has moved down to the city, so many people are sweltering in the city heat these days.  Not me.  I have long hours at work in an ice box, it is hard to know the season when it is so controlled.  But that is okay.  I have a window that I look out of.  It feels good to be here, laying low.  Very low.  J. has been at the beach.  Lucky guy.  For two weeks now.  One beach with wild horses that face the wind to get the flies off, staring out to sea.  The other one with his family in M. CT. 
Shoes off, sand on you butt, salt making patterns on your calf.  
I was in M. with him last weekend.  The kids were there too, niece and two nephews, little tots, the oldest is seven.  We made a club house in the corner of our room, the dead bug club, and drew posters for advertisements that we are going to hang up around the property.  D., J.’s brother, is getting married on Sunday.  It will be good for J. and I to witness how the whole thing happens.  Fabricating an event out of air, while not new to me, is always such a mystery, and having a machete will be fab. 
I miss you.  I think about you a lot.  I was meditating last night, first time in a while, it was great.  Thought of you then too and wanted to see you, or at least say hi. 
I say ‘that’s totally cool’ at work.  J. warned me about using youthful language at the job, things that would make me sound too loose.  Everyone gets a character at work, and mine is like some spaced-out hippie ding-dong that doesn’t give a shit about anything.  Hard to give a shit about some of this shit.  Maybe I earned my cartoon character.  Gross.
I have been plowing through Jacques Rancier on the train rides.  Tough to read something like that on the subway.  Very interesting though and it has created some great conversations and perspectives, so it is doing its job.  S. wrote his senior project on him apparently, I am sure it was really good.