More information from Robert may be found at his website.
Author - Chris Weagel
Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.
Who or what invented the Modern Pop-Up Book?
In the mid-1960s American Waldo Hunt, President of Graphics International, a Los Angeles-based print brokerage company, was creating dimensional pop-up magazine inserts and premiums. Inspired by the Czechoslovakian works, and deterred in an attempt to market them in the U.S., he began to produce his own pop-up books. This decision led to the renaissance of pop-up books as we now know them.
SOURCE: A Concise History of Pop-Up & Movable Books
Images like this restore my faith in this troubled land. Can you comprehend the brilliance of this image? Can you pinpoint what makes this display capital A Art? Don't just skip to the end, really think this through. It's a tough call. The obvious answer is the banana slices in the jell-o block. That is wrong. Others may point to the violently generic Milk Carton with minimal side decoration. Some may favor the compartment plate that not only prevents flavor contamination but also keeps the pea pile primed and pert. Rarer is the eagle eye that points out the double napkin provision, ensuring ample wiping surface (an often overlooked but crucial element for achieving total relief during eating). All of those are valid, but what really makes this photograph of a bland, institutional...
Science has yet to eliminate those little hairs on the underside of your tongue.
Remember that when the geniuses say you're behind the times for not living in an upside down split-level in southern Ohio with only fish for neighbors made by Apple.
You will encounter certain people in life who refuse to put any kind of reasonable effort into whatever job you may be working on together. They will also resent your extra effort and commitment. They will undercut and undermine your efforts and ridicule the very notion of dedication and hard work at every opportunity. What these walking shits fail to recognize is that quality, engaging, and robust miniature golf courses do not build themselves. They do not maintain themselves. The cement elephant will not paint itself pink each spring. The candles in the giant skull don’t relight on their own after each thunderstorm. These details take discipline to achieve and maintain. These are the details and polish that set your miniature golf course apart from Uncle Walley’s backyard...
Working backwards, my present situation can ultimately be traced back to the decision almost eight years ago to eat a whole, raw onion in front of the Governor during her Easter morning address. If only I’d chosen a less abrasive vegetable or turned my head when biting down, perhaps things would’ve turned out differently. Perhaps if I had decided to go around in public offering the whole onion (and others like it) to strangers instead of eating it myself, perhaps I’d be on the right end of a MacArthur fellowship and not trudging through this enormous parking lot with two, overstuffed filing cabinets attached to my legs.
Perhaps.
For a fun team building project during lunch today, I'd like each person to contribute some part of their meal to a big slag heap in the center of the table. I'd like the pile to be at least 7 or 8 inches high, so don't be stingy. Those lunching exclusively on the denser plants, like broccoli or turnip mash, are invited to lay their food down first to form a solid base.
We'll then take turns pressing our faces into the pile and competing to see who can last the longest before coming up for a breath. I'll hold the stopwatch and would appreciate it if you didn't look at me while I'm holding it.
Whoever wins will be in charge of our department for the next 6 years, ruling unopposed and unquestioned absolutely, so really put some effort into it.
You don’t see much innovation in the world of olives these days. It’s more or less steady as she goes. Pitted, with pits. Black or green. Stuffed with pimento or cheese. Free range or farm. Year after year. Same old, same old. First improvement I’d make: Get them rotating. All of them spinning, either on your plate or in mid-air. Simple vibrating olives aren’t enough and the industry knows it. Next: I’d cube them. And not soft cubes with rounded corners. My cubed olives will be machined to precise tolerances, with sharp edges that hold up under heavy stacking sessions. Then I’d get scientists to mess with the olive genome so that they don’t scream when you slice them. Finally I’d broker a lasting peace between olives and those miniature...