My partner Jim saw 3-D printing technology in action 10 years ago at a company on the Rt. 128 tech corridor outside Boston, MA. At that stage it was still just small machine parts and demos. Now it’s custom-order guitars, with increasingly gee-whiz possibilities on the horizon.
From the article.
He is working with printer maker 3D Systems in the US to make Gibson Les Paul-style bodies from poly ether ether ketone (PEEK), which has similar rigidity to wood. Combined with 3D printing’s ability to produce objects with complex internal shapes, this offers a range of accoustic possibilities.
“That’s where you can have enormous fun with having each string resonate to a different acoustic chamber.”
Diegel expects to have a guitar on the 3D Systems stand at the 3D Printshow in London in October, which has the tagline “The world is about to change again”.
An open secret among people who work closely with foundation support, as I used to. Philanthropy has taken on the trappings of venture capital, and not often for the better.
I’m particularly unsettled by the outsized influence Gates Foundation has had on school reform, which should–messy though it is–be a democratic political process, not a question of oligarchs saying “this is what school is for.”
A strong article from The Awl.
Meanwhile, without any significant public claims on foundation largess, the general run of charitable spending in the United States has taken on the protective coloration of American business culture. At every level, charitable grants have come more and more to resemble investment projects, with a specific, measurable return on equity in mind. Among the dozens of sources I’ve interviewed on the state of the foundation world, every one has singled out this trend as a major shift.
Good read on the reliable topic of the horrors of English spelling, courtesy of a review by Tom Shippey on two new language books:
English spelling is notoriously inconsistent, and some have gone further, calling it “the world’s most awesome mess” or “an insult to human intelligence” (both these from linguists, one American, one Austrian). Maybe this is just because our alphabet only has twenty-six letters to represent more than forty phonemes, or distinctive speech-sounds, and some of those – notably q and x – are not pulling their weight, while j is not allowed to (see “John” but also “George”). If we gave s and z a consistent value (“seazon”) and extended this to k and c (“klok” and “sertain”), we could free c up for other duties, such as maybe representing ch, as once it did. But then there are all the vowels . . . .
How did this unsystematic system come about? And is it really that bad? Some say that there are only a few hundred deeply irregular words, but the trouble is that most of them are common. Noam Chomsky and Morris Halle even went so far as to claim that we have “close to an optimal system”, though that takes a deal of argument to convince.
A visit to the Freer (a DC treasure in my book) occupied my afternoon. This quote was on one of the walls:
“In the beginning, man went forth each day – some to do battle – some to the chase – others again to dig and to delve in the field – all that they might gain, and live – or lose and die. Until there was found among them, one, differing from the rest – whose pursuits attracted him not – and so he stayed by the tents, with the women, and traced strange devices, with a burnt stick, upon a gourd.
This man, who took no joy in the ways of his brethren, who cared not for conquest, and fretted in the field – this designer of quaint patterns – this deviser of the beautiful, who perceived in nature about him, curious curvings, – as faces are seen in the fire – This dreamer apart – was the first artist.” James McNeil Whistler
Sounds like me at 12, hanging around the art room instead of playing kick ball. I guess the idea of a female artist didn’t really occur to Whistler. Hard to live without him, though, and revisiting the Peacock Room, is one of the major pleasures of being back in DC.
Nocturne in Blue and Silver, James McNeil Whistler
The “Peacock Room” designed by James McNeil Whistler, and now on display at the Freer Gallery in Washington, DC.
A Navy Drone crashes in Dorchester County on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. Residents look up briefly.
I spent my long, long middle, high school, and college years on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. I only know it now, but god how I was hoping for a drone crash! Although a meteor would have done nicely too.
A poem I found via http://wonderingminstrels.blogspot.com/, apparently no longer updated, but full of good poems.
Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,
between "green thread"
and "broccoli" you find
that you have penciled "sunlight."
Resting on the page, the word
is as beautiful, it touches you
as if you had a friend
and sunlight were a present
he had sent you from some place distant
as this morning -- to cheer you up,
and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing,
that also needs accomplishing
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds
of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder
or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue
but today you get a telegram,
from the heart in exile
proclaiming that the kingdom
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,
- to any one among them
who can find the time,
to sit out in the sun and listen.
Fascinating discussion from WGBH’s Basic Black with clergy, commentators, and the head of the Boston NAACP on the issue. I’m not religious, but impressed by how those who are, and grapple firsthand with this to find a new understanding.