Artnemiz1

enelojodelculo:

pdfsistas de los últimos días

Peel that thing off and use it!

¿Te gusta el rol? ¿Te gustan los mapas? Pues con este generador de mapas de lugares fantásticos sólo tienes que darle a 3 ó 4 botones para tener preparado el terreno en el que Frodo y sus amigos se pierdan y las pasen canutas (gracias excesivo)

El dato: Entre los siglos XVI y XIX existía una raza de perros específica para mantener la carne dando vueltas sobre el fuego. Era alargado y de patas cortas, de forma que pudiese mantenerse dentro de una rueda como las de los hámsters [fuente]

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Hey geeks-- we've been doing some testing and software stuff this week and it's created a lot of issues with bad ads and RSS feed bugs. We are working to get everything ironed out, but if you see something buggy, please let me know. If something has changed for the worse on your end, it is not intentional!

Back to posting comics!

Thank you so much for being patient with the update schedule (or lack thereof) over the past 2-3 weeks.

I’m pretty comfortable talking about my own personal life, but the stuff that has been going on impacts me as well as the people I love and care about in my life. So, as a result, I don’t feel it’s right to share the details of what was going on here on this site. I hope you all understand.

However, I will tell you the following, since the following things only involve me

• I’m good, don’t worry!
• Twitch streams will start again soon
• I got a haircut
• I went to Warped Tour on Friday and drank seven Monsters.

It’s fun to, what’s that word, oh yes, remember. It’s fun to remember things.

I have a new word for you. Cluey. Let me explain.

My father once told me a mundane little anecdote from his youth. It involved his father—my late grandfather—and one of the happiest and most loving people I’ve ever known.

One weekend day, my grandfather went to the store and brought a new board game home for the family: Clue.

He excitedly asked my father and his sister (who were 7 and 9 at the time) if they wanted to play. They did. They joined him at the kitchen table as he opened up the game, read the instructions and explained to them how to play, divided up the cards and put all the pieces where they go.

Just as they were about to start, the doorbell rang. It was the neighbor kids, who said they were on their way outside to play some outdoor game they all used to play. Without a second thought, my dad and aunt jumped up from their seats and left with their friends.

A few hours later, they came back to the house. The game had been put back in the closet.

At the time, my dad didn’t think much of it—pretty normal day in their lives. But later on, he found himself remembering that day, and he always felt bad about it. He pictured his father sitting there at the table, now alone, with all the cards and pieces laid out. He pictured him waiting for a little while before accepting that it wasn’t gonna happen today, then collecting all the pieces and cards he had laid out, putting them back in the box, and putting the box back in the closet.

Pretty random story for my dad to tell me, right? The reason he did was because it was part of a conversation where I was trying to articulate a certain thing I suffer from, which is feeling incredibly bad for certain people in certain situations—situations in which the person I feel bad for was probably barely affected by what happened. It’s an odd feeling of intense heartbreaking compassion for people who didn’t actually go through anything especially bad.

When I explained this, my dad said, “I know what you’re talking about,” and offered up the Clue story. Devastating. My grandfather had been excited about playing, and he was being such a good, loving dad, and he ended up let down and disappointed. He sat there all by himself with the game board, and finally he put all the cards and pieces back in the box because no, the game wasn’t happening anymore because his kids would rather play with their friends than him.

My grandfather fought in World War II. He probably lost friends. He probably shot people. He might have been shot himself, who knows. But the image of him quietly putting all the Clue pieces back in the box? That’s not fucking okay. And now, thanks to my dad sharing this memory, I live every day haunted by this image:

It’s not just my dad doing this to me. Tell me how I’m supposed to handle this fucking story, where the grandfather made 12 burgers for six grandkids and only one showed up.

Full Clue situation. And the story includes literally the clueiest picture I’ve ever seen.

As I read the story, I started picturing this NICE FUCKING MAN buying all the ingredients in the grocery store, in a good mood with anticipation for the night, then coming home and making each of the 12 patties by hand—maybe even adding carefully-thought-out spices into them—toasting the buns, and timing everything to be done at just the right time. He even made homemade ice cream. Clue up the dick. It continues, if you imagine what happened at the end of the night. Either he wrapped up eight uneaten burgers, one by one, and put them in the fridge, ensuring that he’s later reminded of the rejection each time he heats one up to eat it, or, even worse, he just threw them in the trash.

The only thing that prevented me from taking my own life while reading the story is that the one granddaughter—bless her soul—showed up. Because just imagine.

And then there’s this 89-year-old grandmother, who got dressed nicely and put her paintings up for display at an art showing, and guess what? No one fucking came. Then she packed up her paintings and drove home, feeling “foolish.” You know what that is? It’s cluey as shit. Especially her choice of the word foolish in particular. I really don’t need this in my life.

Movies know all about clueyness and use it to their advantage. Remember that super cluey old man neighbor in Home Alone? Who was so nice and lonely and misunderstood? The writers literally invented him to inflict clueyness on the audience so they could then release the burden of that clueyness at the end by showing him in happy reunion with his family. Cheapest trick in the book.

Clueyness doesn’t only apply to old people. One time about five years ago, I was in a shitty mood and in a rush when I hastily walked out of my apartment building. A FedEx man was standing outside the building with his cart of packages, and he wanted to get in so he could leave the packages on top of the communal mailbox (I assume the package recipient wasn’t home, so he had had no luck being buzzed in). As I walked out, he reached for the door as it closed behind me but it shut before he could grab it. After the door re-locked, he let out a frustrated exhale, and then he turned to me and asked, “Can you please open the door so I can drop these off?” I was already 10 steps away though, and late, so I said, “Sorry I can’t right now” and turned back towards where I was going. Before I did, I briefly saw his reaction to my refusal to help. He had the face on of a nice person who the world had been mean to all day. The snapshot of that dejected face he made bothered me more and more throughout the day, and now it’s five years later and I still think about it.

If someone asks me what my biggest regret is, I have to lie, because how weird would it be if I answered, “The FedEx man incident. I’m a monster.”

Clueyness is a strange phenomenon. My grandfather probably forgot about the Clue incident an hour after it happened. The FedEx man probably forgot about what I did to him five minutes later. I literally got cluey about a dog the other day, when he was super excited to play and I was busy and nudged him away with my foot and he looked at me confused and taken aback and then went to the side of the room and laid down—and dogs aren’t even real. The weight of my heartache in these cases outweighs the actual tragedy like 10,000:1.

But knowing that it’s totally irrational doesn’t make clueyness any less excruciating—something I’m reminded of every time my night is ruined by post-Uber-ride-when-the-friendly-driver-tried-to-start-a-conversation-and-I-wasn’t-in-the-mood-so-I-gave-curt-answers-until-he-finally-got-the-hint-and-then-felt-embarrassed-and-stopped guilt.

I’m just destined for a life of feeling cluey about things. But at least I can take solace in a little headline I came across recently:

Sad Papaw No Longer Sad: Thousands Wait in Line for Burgers at His Cookout

___________

If you’re feeling cluey right now, three other Wait But Why posts to make it worse:

The Tail End – An intense reality check

The Apple Game – How good a person are you?

The Bunny Manifesto – If this is all a bit heavy for you, here are some creatures you should absolutely not ever feel cluey for

The post Clueyness: A Weird Kind of Sad appeared first on Wait But Why.

El artículo de The Washington Post The secret life of baggage: Where does your luggage go at the airport? explicaba cómo era el proceso de seguridad aplicado por la TSA (la Transportation Security Administration, la agencia de EE UU encargada allí de la seguridad aérea) al equipaje que se embarcaba en los aviones.

Entre otras cosas el artículo hacía referencia a las llaves maestras que utilizan en la TSA para abrir los candados de equipaje —los candados que la TSA ‘recomienda’ utilizar a la gente para cerrar sus maletas cuando las embarca.

Con este acuerdo entre ambas partes la gente queda tranquila porque puede ponerle un candado al equipaje y además en caso de que una maleta necesite ser revisada por personal de seguridad de los aeropuertos la TSA puede abrir el candado usando una llave maestra — inspeccionar el contenido de la maleta, dejar una tarjeta explicando el procedimiento y volver a dejar el candado como estaba, cerrado.

El artículo en el Washington Post iba acompañado —ya no— de una fotografía del mazo de llaves maestras utilizadas por la TSA.

En Wired, Lockpickers 3-D Print TSA Master Luggage Keys From Leaked Photos,

La TSA acaba de aprender una lección básica de la seguridad física en la era de la impresión 3D: si tienes llaves importantes —digamos, un juego de las llaves maestras que pueden abrir los candados del equipaje de millones de ciudadanos— no publiques fotos de esas llaves en Internet.

Un grupo de entusiastas de la seguridad fue capaz de obtener modelos 3D de las llaves a partir de las fotografías y compartieron los archivos en GitHub, desde donde cualquiera ha podido descargarlas e imprimirlas.

«Madre mía, ¡funciona de verdad!» es el comentario que acompaña a un vídeo publicado en Twitter por alguien que ha descargado esos archivos, ha impreso copia de las llaves con una impresora 3D y ha probado a abrir con ellas uno de esos candados. Y funciona de verdad.

Relacionado,

• Por qué guardar las llaves del coche en el congelador puede impedir que te lo roben
• Cómo copiar llaves… a distancia (¡con una foto basta!)
• Cómo copiar una llave en plástico rígido 3D para abrir puertas sin problemas
• Una aplicación móvil para guardar y hacer copias de las llaves «de verdad»

# Enlace Permanente

weloveshortvideos:

THIS is how to be a rockstar.

Hovertext: Of course, when you're a cartoonist, all you get asked about is why you're not in the papers.

8 months and counting! I’m pretty sure we’re never gonna acknowledge my frequent appearances.

Por Janila Castañeda

Lo mejor de dos mundos encontró una vez más su punto de encuentro. Hace unas semanas escribimos sobre el proyecto de un estudio británico por llevar el maravilloso universo creado por Studio Ghibli a la realidad virtual.

Por medio de lentes Oculus Rift y el HTC VIVE, el estudio Fire Panda nos daría la oportunidad de sumergirnos en la filmografía de Miyazaki. En su fase prueba, podríamos experimentar la realidad virtual en tres escenas clave: la escena bajo la lluvia en Mi vecino Totoro (1988), continuando con la pradera del Castillo Ambulante (2004) así como la sala de las caldera en El Viaje de Chihiro (2001).

me occupying the same virtual space as Howl’s Moving Castle

??? pic.twitter.com/Tq47IU9SlX

— ok g (@g_awd) 30 de abril de 2016

Pero como todo, acá van las malas noticias: hace poco Studio Ghibli le pidió a Fire Panda bajar los demos de la red. Aunque desconocemos la verdadera razón, evidentemente se puede tratar de un tema de derechos de autor o tal vez la posibilidad de que el mismo estudio esté considerando llevar sus filmes a la realidad virtual. ¿Ustedes que creen?

360 Google Spotlight Story: Pearl