To mark the 20th anniversary of SMS texting, Moleskine has launched an SMS notebook for analog texting. Introduced at Milan’s Design Week, Pietro Corraini’s idea is simple and appeals to the kid in all of us: choose from 56 messages (“I love you”/”Call Me”), select the desired distance from markings on the cover (up to 17 ft), pull back on the elastic, and shoot. Brilliant, and no need to wonder if your message arrived – you will know. Watch Moleskine’s SMS in action video. Produced as a limited edition and available at the MoleskineStore.
“The importance of learning to code isn’t so that everyone will write code, and bury the world under billions of lines of badly conceived Python, Java, and Ruby. The importance of code is that it’s a part of the world we live in. I’ve had enough of legislators who think the Internet is about tubes, who haven’t the slightest idea about legitimate uses for file transfer utilities, and no concept at all about what privacy (and the invasion of privacy) might mean in an online space. I’ve had enough of patent inspectors who approve patents for which prior art has existed for decades. And I’ve had enough of judges making rulings after listening to lawyers arguing about technologies they don’t understand. Learning to code won’t solve these problems, but coding does force engagement with technology on a level other than pure ignorance. Coding is a part of cultural competence, even if you never do it professionally. Alsup is a modern hero.”—
“If I discover a scientific idea, surely someone else would’ve discovered the same idea had I not done so. Whereas, look at Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” — if he didn’t paint “Starry Night,” nobody’s gonna paint “Starry Night.” So, in that regard, the arts are more individual to the creative person than a scientific idea is to the one who comes up with it — but, nonetheless, they are both human activities.”—Neil deGrasse Tyson (via explore-blog)
I instantly recognized her, your “girlfriend”. The same for her: she knew it was me. Oh man, she knew. She was French equivalent of my peculiar side. We spent exactly an hour and forty minutes together, sitting next to each other. She recognized me, of course she did, and she smiled, giving me short exploratory look starting from my hair down to the shoes I was wearing. Of course she did. I smiled back.
At first she was reading something for awhile, so I pulled out my small moleskine notebook and started to write meta-thoughts. She saw that I have a camera - staring at her. So - I interrupted her, or she did interrupted me. Your girlfriend is a typical French that reminds me on those self important minimalistic feminine characters from the 60s, you know those with expressive and subtle eyebrows, eyes with peculiar glance, and different skin tone. Your girlfriend was neat in a non conformistic way, she made face expressions if someone would say something out loud, like “çan’t believe…” or “incredible” or just articulated face expressions of approval or disapproval. When we parted, she walked like a cat, slowly but in a fast pace, without much noise. I was not being impressed.
It was so obvious to her that I know you well and everything that happened between us, and something more. She also knew I was a foreigner in Paris, by looking different, thinking different, and moving in my own ways. She thought I was Italian too. It was not the first time I was mistaken for Italian woman in the western European countries. While I was talking, she was observing me silently and with the stingy smile. I enjoyed in her observations and her listening to me.
We both share secrets. Your girlfriend and I. In a manner of speaking, we found the way to say everything to each other, by saying nothing.
(an excerpt from the chapter from the book about people I meet, places I go, world wide, both analogue and virtual)
Aleks Krotoski asks not just what technology can do for us but also what is it doing to us and the world we’re creating? Each week she takes us on a journey to where people are living their digital lives to explore how technology touches everything we do both on and offline.
Taking broad themes of modern living as a starting point she charts the experiences of homo digitas; both the remarkable and the mundane, to understand how we are changing just as quickly as the advances in our technology.
What does the deluge of images from digital photography mean for our memory when every second is being recorded, edited and posted online for posterity? Are the identities we create in social media no more than exercises in personal branding, to be managed and protected like any other product? And as traditional churches struggle to leverage technology to spread their faith do the behaviours we all display online have more in common with religion than rationality?
The time for wonder at the digital world is over, we live with it in every day. The question really is who are we now because of it?