Wave Glider Self Propelled Robots Have Begun a Historic Swim Across the Pacific:
“Yesterday, four Wave Gliders—self propelled robots, each about the size of a dolphin—left San Francisco for a 60,000 kilometer journey. Built by Liquid Robotics, the robots will travel together to Hawaii, then split into pairs, one pair heading to Japan, the other to Australia. Waves will power their propulsion systems and the sun will power the sensors that will be measuring things like water salinity, temperature, clarity, and oxygen content; collecting weather data, and gathering information on wave features and currents. It’s not going to be an easy journey—the little robots will face rough weather and have to dodge big ships. […]
The data from the fleet of robots is being streamed via the Iridium satellite network and made freely available—in an accessible form on Google Earth’s Ocean Showcase, and in a more complete form to researchers who register. Liquid Robotics is eager to see what the scientific community does with all the data—so eager, that it’s asking for project abstracts, and will give a prize to the top five proposals—six months use of a Wave Glider optimized to collect whatever information the winner needs.”
Oh my wrack and toil, oh my heart and stars. The body aches today. Every joint feels violated and every muscle abused. On some very fundamental level, every snap and creaking pop declares dancing a success. I suspect I went into it somewhat violently last night, non-stop from nine-twenty to two-thirty. I jumped on people, was swung around by people, and was generally given plenty of open space, no matter how crowded the dance floor. All while running soley on an energy drink and some candy bars bought from the club vending machine. Take that, groaning machine. However much it hurts, I’m in better shape now.
a video of plants with eyes
There are some more videos of fake robots in the directory.
After my shower, I discovered two puncture wounds, equidistant from one another, on opposite sides of my neck. My best guess is that this is the price paid for hugging people with especially spiky collars. It looks odd, however, as if I were a product of some traditionalist sort of mad scientist who pulled the tiny plugs from my neck before letting me out. Too obvious, you see. I didn’t kill anyone who kissed me, however, so obviously I’m getting better at being in a cuddly public. I’m curious as to what sort of lipstick some of them used, as it took some scrubbing to remove it from my chest this morning, but I’ve no way of asking. Who are you people? I’ve no idea. My livejournal was brought up a few times, entirely by these people I don’t think I know. Apparently there are plans to friend me in the works, so that I might begin to, but so far no one’s followed through. Perhaps they too are lying in crowded knots of wanting to never move again.
“Takahiro Takeda, postgraduate student of Japan’s Tohoku Univ., dances with Partner Ballroom Dance Robot (PBDR) at a factory of Nomura Unison robotic venture company in Chino city, 200-km west of Toyko. The prototype dance partner robot, developped by Japan’s Tohoku Univ Professor Kazuhiro Kosuge, enables them to move in all directions with three special wheels by predicting how its partner will mobe with a sensor.”
“Robots on the market include a machine that looks like a machine dressed in bright colors programmed to converse in just enough small talk to stop the elderly from going senile and a doll that articulates the needs of a five-year-old boy.
In January, a Tokyo University engineer unveiled a humanoid that can shuffle its feet and wave its hands to preserve a traditional Japanese dance falling out of fashion among young people.”
I’m being paid to be a lesbian today. This sounds like I answered the sort of advert that lurks blank faced in the back of the newspaper, but the sky outside is dull dirty gray and repels my usual humour. Instead, as I wake, it reminds me of my tumbling stomach and the basic human need for food. I want to go tear out the throat of a rabbit and drink its life like an angsty neo-sapien. That I’m going to be paid to hit on girls in front of a camera isn’t really impacting. My hair is 80’s rock star huge and I’m trying to care enough to debate make-up. Which begs my asking if I even have any that’s appropriate. It’s unlikely. There’s tiny spots of blood crusted in my hair, which tell me I was wounded at some random point last night, there must be a cut somewhere, the company I was expecting for part way has abandoned me, I suspect that as an adult, I should get used to hit and run, and I’ve yet to have a proper meal in two days. Brush this off, however, I’m sure. I’m merely having a bad morning.
self reminder: bring SIN card to the set. If I forget, there might be problems.
I have that crippling fear of If I Leave the House Today I Will End Up in The Wrong Place. It’s vague, but it’s faintly irritating me. I’m going to blame emotional instability. It’s rare but when it hits, oh my stars and garters, does it pull deep. “The scary thing about you is that you mean to do all you’re doing.” I’m still not doing well. The brain is loathing all that hurt piling up. My heart isn’t as sturdy as I’m good at making it be. The damned world has been throwing me bones with splinters in. I don’t ask for anything fair, I ask there to be balance and redress. I ask that we try some before we refuse to buy on the basis of cold winter nights. It’s been a month since I was kept up at night by anyone interesting, I’m obviously failing at being young again. The youngest centennial, that isn’t me. I sit on the curb after getting out of the cab and speak words alone into warm early morning. Why is there nobody here? I’m always coming back to this box, but it’s not like there’s ever been anyone here.
a robot film, short
a robot film, dannybo(y/t)
a robot contest for the most impressive looking laser-wielding, earth destroying robot
a picture of a robot
Also, a partial explanation as to why Nicholas was continually declaiming Exeunt! on his Vancouver visit.