…Give 10 shares each to everyone of Facebook’s current users. After all…if there were no users there would be no facebook. Mr. what’s-his-name’s genius, notwithstanding.
OK- Please forgive my rant…but this triggered something in me. Creation vs. Consumption
3 million + views.
- The aspirational equivalent of putting a man on the moon: most of the people in the world may never have or experience exactly what we see in this video. Just as most of us may never step foot on the moon. BUT all of us experience ALL of the technology that got us to the moon everyday, most of it invisible, unnoticed, taken for granted. We consume it without knowing it’s origins.
- Creating experiences that allow people to integrate technology like this in a way that unites us – finding a way to unite humans across the strata of mankind.
I see these aspirations and feel there is something missing in the portrayal of the perfect home, the 1 kid family with the Dad in the kitchen of the perfect white Architectural Digest decor, bellhops who anticipate every move and wait to serve perfectly, et cetera ad nauseum. I will never know this reality in part because I don’t desire it. It’s the matrix and repulses me with it’s portrayal of perfection.
When I see things like this…it inspires me to continue on this path to being an artist. This is a wonderful website: http://www.thisiscolossal.com/
A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life wrote a blank check
Made payable to ‘The United States of America’ for an amount of ‘up to
and including my life’.
Space Exploration is 50 years old today:
by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds…and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of…wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up, the long, delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, nor even eagle flew.
And while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space…
…put out my hand, and touched the face of God.