There’s a relatively long tradition, in the field of data visualization, of tracking the way we swear. This makes sense. Not only is it fun to track, but cursing is also conveniently specific as a data set; you’ve got your f-bombs and your double hockey sticks and your bodily functions, and, factoring in their permutations, you’re good to go. Plus, you don’t need much sophisticated sentiment analysis to ensure that your data are accurate: An f-bomb is pretty much an f-bomb, regardless of the contextual subtleties. As a result of all this, we, the public, get treated to sweary heat maps. And more sweary heat maps. And sweary interactive maps. There’s just something about big data and sailor-cursing that complement each other—like peanut butter and mothereffing jelly.
Traditionally, those maps are based on text—on swears that are typed into Facebook or, even more publicly, Twitter. Making a map of the sweariest states requires simply gathering geocoded posts, isolating the swears, and going from there.
The SCAR Project is a series of large-scale portraits of young breast cancer survivors shot by fashion photographer David Jay. Primarily an awareness raising campaign, The SCAR Project puts a raw, unflinching face on early onset breast cancer while paying tribute to the courage and spirit of so many brave young women.
Dedicated to the more than 10,000 women under the age of 40 who will be diagnosed this year alone, The SCAR Project is an exercise in awareness, hope, reflection and healing.
I am going to be a playboy bunny for halloween… originally I want to be nun [with bikini under the robes?], but this is not new. Last year there was pregnant nun. There was also another bunny, but she was overweight…
@alicegregory NAILS how I feel about 95% of pop culture and the internet in the @newyorker:
We adore being targeted by art. We love getting nailed. Among those who write for a living, “Nailing it” is one of the most succinct and meaningful compliments. Implicit in the idiom is conclusiveness: nailing it shut. The phrase also usually implies a gimlet eye, the ability to articulate the ineffably obvious. As readers, we’ve grown addicted to it. There are Web sites devoted to nailing it (BuzzFeed, Thought Catalog), and there aren’t many Twitter users who don’t at least occasionally indulge the impulse to fall into this mode (“That thing where…” “Ever notice how…”). The desired reaction, as has been codified in online writing, is a blunt and satisfied “THIS.”
But accuracy isn’t always artistry, and, while pangs of recognition can be thrilling—novels set in your Brooklyn neighborhood, a reference to a bottle of Sriracha in the fridge, scenes scored with your favorite indie band—it’s intellectually disingenuous to allow that recognition to masquerade as some higher order of feeling. Owing to the rise in niche media, specificity—of language, of dress, of eating habits—is taking the place of narrative empathy. People love thinking about themselves, and getting someone to like something—or to “like” something—seldom requires much more than giving them the chance to celebrate their own personal history.
“It makes sense that all of Holofcener’s films have been made independently: it’s hard to imagine her pitching such seemingly low-stakes stories. But most people’s lives aren’t very exciting, and it’s usually only idiots and psychopaths who seek out the kinds of extreme experiences that make for cinematic biographies. What Holofcener’s films lack in tension they make up for in the specificity of their realism.”
Above: Nicole Holofcener at the 2007 première of “Friends with Money.” Photograph by Mario Anzuoni/Reuters.
Getting to the Oakland airport from San Francisco requires taking BART to a bus, which comes at its leisure. But once you’ve overcome the anxiety of getting here, it’s quiet-peaceful, even. Even the parking lot is clean. Security takes all of 5 minutes, and the security smiles and politely explains your lowest-radiation x-ray option. The art is better (unless the melting cranes are a mistake).
So, in case you’ve ever wondered whether it’s worth lugging yourself to Oakland to save $50 on a flight to Portland, the answer is yes.
I don’t have Glass, but my boyfriend does. I used to pick on him for wearing them in public (he had to get them for work purposes) because they resemble orthodontic headgear, but it’s become one of his endearing dork qualities, like building his own sous vide or believing that it is absolutely worth $95 to make a system that will make unpleasant noises when it detects my dog on his bed.
Almost everything in this video has happened to us while he’s worn his facetoy in public, and then some. A pair of policemen caught a group of us illegally roasting marshmallows at Ocean Beach. The policemen were polite (“Hey guys, you know it’s illegal to have a bonfire without a firepit”), but we braced ourselves for a ticket as we watched them stomp out the flames. Then, the inevitable happened (not verbatim):
Policeman: Hey, are those Google Glass? Boyfriend: Yes they are Policeman: Wow! That is so cool! How do they work? Boyfriend: You say, “Okay, Glass” and then it pulls up a menu… Policemen: That’s really neat. I think they would be great for law enforcement. I sent Google a note with my idea, but who knows if anyone will ever read it. Boyfriend: Well, my friend works on Glass. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll let him know I talked to you. Policeman: Wow! That would be great!
And no one got a ticket! (And yes, Boyfriend did inform his friend of the policeman’s request).
And yes, the girl in the video is Amanda Rosenberg, who is reportedly dating Sergey Brin, Google co-founder, who recently separated from his wife of 6 years and also called my dog “such a cutie.” For what it’s worth, this video is legitimately funny, and I’ve heard through the grapevine that she’s a brilliant engineer who has a knack for marketing and is completely hilarious.