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Empire in Decline – Propaganda and the American Myth By Cognitive Dissonance     “Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive…ourselves.” – With apologies to Sir Walter Scott.   If only life was as neat and orderly as my ancient history text book showed it to be. There it … Continue reading Empire in Decline – Propaganda and the American Myth →

If you want to test your luck against those extremely-punchable security robots roaming the streets and parking lots of San Francisco, you should feel empowered to step up and give it a try. Even if security bots don’t take the form of gun-toting Terminators, they’re still a hostile presence in that they monitor […]

The post Wired: It’s Time for War Between Humanity and Machines appeared first on Futurism.

I see you staring at me from across the nail salon. While I couldn’t help but observe your salsa-stained sweatshirt, you surely noticed I am wearing a crisp, white bohemian-style ruffled peplum top.

White shirts are like my second skin. What can I say? I’m a little bit fairy angel, a little bit Stevie Nicks.

I know how it must make you feel to see me or any human for that matter, in white, considering you can’t wear it for more than 11 seconds without getting a glob of ketchup, a smear of chocolate ice cream, or a splash of red wine directly over your left boob. I feel you, sister. But barely.

I once spilled soda on my black trousers in a totally dark movie theater during an indie film I was the only person watching, so I’ve almost been there.

For me, wearing a white shirt is like my “art.” Oh, I wear white jeans too — even during my period. Especially during my period. I call them my “period jeans.” Wait, your period jeans aren’t white? Then what color are they?

I learned to wear white as a child, and have spent my lifetime mastering it.

My mother was obsessed with white. She used to dress us in white for church, Sunday dinner, Monday breakfast, Wednesday lunch, school photos, all of winter, special car rides, most car rides, visits to see Grandma at the Chinese buffet, and of course, parties. Our house was white, most of our furniture was white, my bedspread and walls? White as a game show host’s teeth. My bras and panties — yep, all white. Even our bathroom towels and washcloths were white. My mom was a wild card!

My mother trained me as a toddler to wear white. My diapers were white — she didn’t care. You know those adorable white dresses and white bibs and tiny white shoes that you see in catalogs and wonder, “Who the hell buys this stuff for their kids?” They filled my faux rustic Victorian dresser. My mom lived on the edge, and she raised me to do the same.

I took karate as a kid, just for the karategi. On Halloween, my costumes alternated between marshmallow, ghost, cloud, dead sheep and refrigerator.

My mom rallied to make our school’s team colors white and white. She came close — they went with white and cream. She was devastated.

In high school, I wore white tees to fitness class, my gymnastics leotard was white, and for prom, I donned my mom’s wedding dress. She was over the full, white moon.

In college, I would sometimes challenge myself by wearing white and drinking sangria on whatever yacht I happened to find myself on. Though I avoid pasta, because a moment on the lips and nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, yada yada — on the rare occasion I eat bowls of warm tomato sauce, yes, I did say to-mahhh-to sauce, and I am pleased as a brimming glass of punch to report that I haven’t ever had even one splatter or dot on my white J. Crew cardigan.

Wearing white all the time is as amazing as you have often imagined. Though it took some practice, I can wear flowing, angelic white pantsuits, spotless sugary cheerleader skirts, avalanche-colored blouses, and white shoes any time of the year. Oh, the white-shoe rule? It was made up by a jealous frenemy of mine.

Because I can wear white with such ease, I’ve looked stunning for every job interview and date I ever had. Life has been fun and effortless. I’ve never had the flu or broken a bone. I graduated summa cum laude from a good school. But funny, here I am, getting my nails done in the same place as you.

Take away my ability to flawlessly wear white, and we are pretty much the same.

But yeah, I’m so confident in my abilities to avoid any food conflict on my outfits that — hey! It’s not very nice to splash iced coffee on a stranger. But never mind you. I brought my own bleach spray, as I always do. I’m going to pop into the wash closet real quick, and when I emerge, as if by magic, my shirt will be as white as a Four Seasons toilet.

Check out Amir Zaki’s captivating work, recently featured on Dezeen.Jagged tunnels edged with red trim, scooped walls and wave-like canopies are among the defining features of these vacant concrete skateparks in California, photographed by artist Amir Zaki. The images feature in the California Concrete, a Landscape of Skateparks publication, and document 12 unusual and elaborate […]

Several methodologies have been tested to try and thwart growing facial recognition technologies, however perhaps none are as elegant as Polish designer Ewa Nowak’s metal jewelry. Her project, Incognito, was born out of her own uneasiness about the global state of privacy, and was tested using Facebook’s DeepFace algorithm to ensure its success.
The implement is worn like glasses, with arms reaching around the wearer’s ears. Two round pieces of metal cover each cheek, and an elongated piece extends upward between the eyes, creating a trifecta of polished objects that help deflect software used IRL in security systems and public cameras, and online through social media. More

Although the Earth rotates below the sky, aerial time-lapse videos often have the perspective of a celestial scene rushing above the ground. In this brief video by Aryeh Nirenberg, the Milky Way becomes completely stationary, highlighting specifically the Earth’s rotation. Nirenberg recorded the time-lapse with a Sony a7SII with the Canon 24-70mm f2.8 lens while using an equatorial tracking mount over a period of three hours. You can see more of his starscapes on Instagram and Youtube. More

Photos of storms can be about the most atmospheric and gripping of any landscape photography. In fact some people make storm photography and chasing storms their photographic specialty, following…

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Brooklyn-based artist Kip Omolade (previously) uses molding, casting, and painting techniques to create detailed masks and large-scale hyperrealistic portraits. Contrasted against vibrant backgrounds, each chrome face appears to rise from the canvas to meet the viewer. Continuing his Diovadiova Chrome series, Omolade’s recent work explores form, connections, and the basics of what makes us human.
Since we last featured his work in 2017, Kip Omolade’s portraits have evolved to include more than one subject. More

Photographer Rob Woodcox (previously) travels the world to bring athletes and dancers together in visually captivating locations and poses. The 29-year-old artist first picked up a camera about ten years ago and hasn’t looked back. Woodcox works with a diverse array of models both in studio environments and in deserts and metropolises. A combination of on-site practical effects and post-production editing create the fantastical final images.
Woodcox grew up in Michigan, and shares with Colossal that the lack of a robust local creative industry spurred his imaginative, DIY approach. More

This folklore museum is small and unassuming from the outside. But don’t be fooled by its modest exterior. Its flag proudly indicates that you’ve arrived at the “temple of fortune-tellers.”

When you enter, you’re greeted by two crows and a humble broomstick on display. There is a small seating area with reading material and a room devoted to teas, coffees, and various witchy (or otherwise) Icelandic trinkets. There is also a small café. 

The museum is staffed by any number of its five founding ladies, only two of which are admitted spákona—fortune tellers. They are quick to correct you on the difference between "psychic medium" and "fortune-telling." While psychic mediums glean their powers from mystic hidden realms, a fortune teller is merely a "vessel" by which the wisdom of the objects like runes, tarot, cups, and intestines is interpreted. 

You are free to roam the museum at no charge. Around the museum are many exquisitely painted murals detailing the life and mythology of Þórdís, the local 10th-century prophetess. For a modest fee, a guide will interpret the murals for you and tell you about the prophetess, who every day climbed the mountain Spákonufell to brush her hair with a golden comb. 

There are separate rooms devoted to different divination practices: tarot, palmistry, and coffee or tea leaves. Paying visitors may have their past, present, and future laid out for them. There are also small placards in both English and Icelandic that teach various divination techniques both across the world and unique to Iceland.

Santa Fe-based sculptor and jewelry designer Debra Baxter combines glass, bronze, crystal, wood, and found objects to create ghostly sculptures of human forms. In one piece titled “Cross My Heart” (2019), a purple heart sits on top of a rough cluster of geodes, while in ‘First Taste” (2017), a glass tongue protrudes from a slab of quartz crystal.
For many of her recent works Baxter, shares with Roq Larue Gallery that she drew inspiration from the phenomenon of the “Ghost Heart.” In this medical procedure, a heart is cleansed of all of its blood cells and then injected with hundreds of millions of new blood steam cells which cause the heart to begin beating again. More