My friend Leah forwarded a link to an incredible archive of photography from the Apollo missions. They’ve even got the hi-res images there for printing purposes. Just goes to show that a good camera makes all the difference, even in space.

She found it via the Photo Shelter Blog, which has some interesting stuff.

reading this post should take you about 3 minutes. if you read this entire post you will have spent approx as much time reading as most people read in an entire day. that is, if you consider reading to be moving your eyes over every word on the screen, absorbing their meaning, finishing the post, and considering the entire piece as a complete thought.

i, it seems, have become most people.

a couple days ago, i posted an article about storytelling and the elections. about the storybook narratives constructed for obama and mccain, and the role of story in politics and our decision making. i found a link to the article on a newsfeed.  the title line sounded interesting, i clicked on it, read the first few paragraphs in full, then skimmed the rest of the piece for theme. the content seemed relevant to what we do here at underground, seemed like something that visitors to our site would find interesting, and so, i posted (see post below).

yesterday, it was brought to my attention that this post was not all-together, shall we say, undergroundish. the author was, shall we say, not a believer. and i felt, shall we say, stupid.

no big deal. this happens all the time. (misposting, buddy. not me feeling stupid.)

but i was shocked that it happened to me.

i shouldn’t be.

i read this article in the same fashion so many of us now read: lightly.  and then i did what so many of us now do when we see something that we think might be of interest to someone we know: forward it on. usually without much consideration of the content of our communication. in the verbal world, this would be the equivalent of repeating a joke you overheard on a street corner (but never thought about its meaning) because you saw some stranger laugh at it. not the best analogue, but you get my drift. it’s dangerous to say the least.

an article came out in the atlantic monthly a few weeks ago on this very topic: what effect is the internet having on the way we read? i have pasted link to it below. the implications of the internets effect on our reading and thinking go beyond mispostings like mine, and into the way we use the internet for communication at Underground, and perhaps suggests that we might want to be a bit more considered not only in the DEPTH of our reading, but also in the form and frequency.

i am pleased to say that when it came out, i read the Whole Thing from beginning to end. and in magazine form. (that paper thing with staples in the middle one can carry in a shoulder bag.) and when i passed it on to friends, i received comments that the article was great, but it was a challenge getting all the way through. not because it was not a well written piece. it is. but because it was the first time they realized they had not read an article in full in years.

give it a try:

Is Google Making Us Stupid?

What the Internet is doing to our brains

BY NICHOLAS CARR

http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200807/google

—

Robert Sibley
The Ottawa Citizen
Friday, July 04, 2008

- - -

History records that there is nothing so powerful as a fantasy whose time has come.

– Historian Tony Judt, Reappraisals

Today, on their nation’s 232nd birthday, Americans are an anxious lot. Their economy wobbles. Russia and China challenge their superpower status. Distant wars tax the nation’s treasure and citizens’ patriotism. Thus, thoughtful Americans will mark Independence Day asking serious questions about their country’s future.

Perhaps, though, if there is one question that encapsulates all others, it is this: What is the American “story” for the foreseeable future?

I’ve taken this concept of “story” from Walter Fisher, a communications theorist who argues that humans are essentially storytellers, and that all communication — history, art, language, science, etc. — is a form of storytelling. That is to say, the world is a collection of “stories” — or “narrative paradigms,” to use Fisher’s terms — that we constantly examine for coherence and check against our experience as we attempt to create meaningful lives, individually and collectively.

You can readily see how this idea functions at the political level. Obviously, various factors determine political success — everything from the state of the economy to the weather on voting day — but a deeper dynamic is also at play. When you vote, you are not only endorsing a particular politician, but also saying something about yourself, about your ideals and aspirations (or lack thereof, as the case may be). The politician who wins elections is one whose story a majority identifies with.

Paul Waldman, a political analyst for American Prospect, argues that this notion of “story” provides the subtext to the presidential race between Republican John McCain and Democrat Barack Obama. The latter is a 46-year-old multicultural Harvard-educated lawyer, the first black presidential candidate, who casts himself as the man who can inspire Americans to transcend their partisan divisions. The former is a 71-year-old Vietnam veteran imprisoned and tortured by the North Vietnamese, who has become a living symbol of duty and heroism. He calls on Americans to remember the traditions of patriotism and service that sustains the country in troubled times.

Which story will Americans make their own? Judging by the polls many Americans have yet to buy into Obama’s narrative of “change we can believe in.” True, he has wide support among blacks, the young and educated urbanites, but he is challenged by his lack of experience, particularly on international geo-politics. McCain, on the other hand, is popular among older white men and women, Latinos and blue-collar workers. Nonetheless, many question whether, despite his military credentials and long political experience, he is simply too old for the job.

These doubts about the candidates not only point up demographic divisions — youth versus age, tradition versus change, etc. — but also suggest that the American “narrative paradigm” is shifting. The issues in this presidential campaign include not only political and economic concerns like Iraq and the mortgage crisis, but cultural questions related to shifting generational values. Obama, who was born in 1961 at the tail end of the post-war baby boom, is the first post-boomer presidential candidate, and those who support him, Waldman notes, “see themselves as avatars of a new age in American life” in which issues of race, sexual identity and cultural differences are no longer relevant.

If Americans are at a generational tipping point, so to speak, the 44th president will likely be the one who best articulates the story Americans imagine for and about themselves. This is how past presidential campaigns have worked, as Waldman points out.

John Kennedy, for example, inspired Americans to think of what they could do for their country. Ronald Reagan offered a story of America riding tall in the saddle, not afraid to challenge the “evil empire.” Sometimes, though, a good story doesn’t result in a good president. In 1976, in the aftermath of Richard Nixon and the Watergate scandal, Jimmy Carter presented a story of clean and morally unambiguous politics. His naiveté proved his undoing. Carter’s indecisive responses to the Russian invasion of Afghanistan and the Iranian hostage crisis brought his presidency to its knees.

Bill Clinton, too, told a good story. During the 1992 campaign, Clinton convinced Americans that the incumbent, George H.W. Bush, was out of touch and that only he felt their pain. In the end, after various scandals, Clinton’s story proved to be mostly about his pain.

The current president, George W. Bush, was also a good storyteller. In the wake of Clinton’s impeachment, he cast himself as the man to restore dignity to the presidency, and, hence, to the country. You can argue, as many do, that Bush’s story proved disastrous, but considering the improving situation in Iraq and the latest gesture of nuclear surrender from North Korea, one of the original members of the “axis of evil,” it is premature to judge Bush’s story.

As for the current presidential storytellers, there’s no question that Obama has so far told a better tale. The essential quality of the Obama campaign has been the candidate’s ability to convince many Americans that the story he is telling is about their ideals and aspirations. “America, this is our moment,” he says.

What about McCain’s story? Waldman is dismissive: “The key moment in McCain’s personal story happened 40 years ago. It does not connect to anything the public wants out of their next president.”

I don’t agree that McCain is disconnected from the realistic aspirations of Americans. That’s like saying experience is irrelevant in politics. McCain possesses the charisma of steadfastness, the prudence of a man who knows the world too well to indulge in unrealistic hopes. I’m no doubt betraying my generational bias, but I have more confidence in a tried and tested “man of honour” than in an inexperienced product of Chicago’s notoriously corrupt political machine, no matter how charismatic. Indeed, Obama’s charisma is worrisome because it can so easily become demagoguery.

That said, there’s no denying the younger candidate has captured the zeitgeist, especially the antipathy toward the Bush administration. Obama has defined himself as the “man of destiny,” the candidate who can overcome racial divisions, bring home the troops and persuade terrorists to the ways of peace. This makes Obama’s story one of redemption and salvation. He speaks to a deep-seated desire on the part of Americans for a happier story, a safer place, than the one they have lived with since the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington in 2001.

The desire for a happy ending is understandable, but unlike Waldman, who hopes Americans are “transported” by Obama’s story, I find such longing problematic. Obama’s narrative reflects a notion that political theorist Michael Oakeshott famously warned against: the idea that politics is about finding a safe harbour.

It is not. There is no such anchorage in this world. Politics is about keeping the ship of state afloat. To regard politics as a means of redemption and politicians as saviours is dangerous. This was the horrific lesson of the 20th century, but even at a less extreme level the notion of salvation through politics is harmful. When the post-election realities of wielding power become evident, as inevitably they must, there is a bitter backlash from those disappointed that the person whose story they made their own has not produced the desired ending. The result is a sense of betrayal that fosters cynicism about politics and politicians, and, ultimately, corrodes support for liberal democracy.

The story to which Americans need to subscribe in this election year is that they cannot assuage their anxieties by indulging in political fantasy.

Robert Sibley is a senior writer for the Citizen. His blog, Ideas & Consequences, can be read at ottawacitizen.com/blogs.

© The Ottawa Citizen 2008

Copyright © 2008 CanWest Interactive, a division of CanWest MediaWorks Publications, Inc.. All rights reserved.
CanWest Interactive, a division of CanWest MediaWorks Publications, Inc.. All rights reserved.

Like many of California’s newest unions, our marriage will be viewed with mixed feelings. While we are used to and expect the religious right and conservatives to have a particular point of view about our pending nuptials, our wedding planning has revealed surprising, subtle discrimination from people who would consider themselves open-minded and supportive of gay marriage.

Let me just first say, I cringe at the term “gay marriage.” I will be happy when our marriage doesn’t need a qualifier. I may seem like an ingrate. With this civil right still so freshly available to us and the risk that it could be revoked in November, I should just be happy we can even get married. But my heart can’t help but sink a little bit when we encounter these subtle ways that people see ours marriage as different. For example, while corresponding with someone about wedding plans, the person wrote that they were so happy and excited for the “brides” to be. It was the quotation marks on brides that got us. They told us that deep down we were thought of as playing the role of brides rather than actually being brides.

And our officiant (former officiant now) was so thrilled at the thought of performing her first gay marriage. Although we described the elegant, rather traditional affair that we are planning, she thought that maybe we should make it a themed wedding or have wacky decorations because she thought we could “get as weird as you want” since she didn’t consider it a traditional wedding.

What’s interesting is I’ve felt insidious discrimination before for a different reason. Growing up as a child of mixed race I noticed the small ways race became a factor for people when they interacted with me. And this was from people who would never be considered racist. From an early age I got the feeling that I was accepted, but accepted despite being different. When I moved to Europe at age 23 it was the most liberating experience I’ve every had. There, I was just American. When my European friends lamented my food or clothing choices and admonished me by saying “you are so American”, I beamed with pride. Finally I was just American, not a slightly different American.

My dream is that one day in my own country, my girlfriend and I will just be a married couple. Not a “married” couple.

You’re looking at the new coinage of our cousins across the Atlantic, the British. The design, which cleverly has the reverse of each coin represent a part of the Royal Arms, with the £1 coin showing the full shield, is the work of a 26-year old graphic designer named Matthew Dent. His design was chosen from over 4,000 submissions through an open competition despite the fact that he had no previous experience creating money, and as a prize, he gets to see his work used every day by millions of Britons.

Now, as Jonathan Hoefler notes, compare and contrast with our new five dollar bill:

Below, the new five dollar bill, introduced last month by the United States Department of the Treasury. The new design, which features a big purple Helvetica five, is the work of a 147-year-old government agency called the United States Bureau of Engraving and Printing. It employs 2,500 people, and has an annual budget of $525,000,000.

So what do 2,500 employees and half a billion dollars get you?

A giant purple five. Set in Helvetica.

Oh well, at least it isn’t Arial. (via Kottke)

No, not the caloric guilt. The ‘how much damage am I doing by eating this?’ kind. Let’s face it - what’s for dinner is truly the eternal question. And layering in the added consideration of ocean conservation and sustainability to the equation - it’s sure to be a blue box mac n’cheese kind of night.

While it’s not going to help solve all of your agricultural woes, this incredibly handy “Guide to Ocean Friendly Seafood” from Blue Ocean Institute will surely help guide you through your oceanic menu planning. They even have Fish Phone - a text-back feature for those frenzied restaurant moments when you’re just craving those Olympia Oysters and need to know if they’re cool. Yea, they’re cool.

1.
a talk given by the well known designer Philippe Stark at TED in 2007 on the evolution, mutation and purpose(?) of design in the world today, and opening up possibilities for the future.

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/view/id/197

2.
“Dave, my mind is going,” HAL says, forlornly. “I can feel it. I can feel it.”

this article, just published in the Atlantic Weekly, discusses the way our interaction with the internet is altering not only what we think about, but HOW we think. buy it or not, matters not. social network internet hopping junkie or long-hand writing library stack lover, matters less. this has incredible implications for all of us, and esp. for those of us involved in communications. (and mcluhan smiles.)

http://www.theatlantic.com:80/doc/200807/google

such striking images documented by mapmakers Collins Bartholomew.