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Eclipsing Expectations...


 
 
 


 



Fred's Excellent Eclipse Image (that's the cred)


Black Sun,” a feature-length documentary, chronicles two celestial events: the May 20, 2012 annular solar eclipse and the November 14, 2012 total solar eclipse. The movie follows two astrophysicists who study the solar atmosphere during eclipses:

•Dr. Alphonse Sterling of NASA Marshall Space Flight Center stationed in Japan (a man who had early success in the US, but left his home country to further cultivate his wide-ranging interests).

Dr. Hakeem Oluseyiof the Physics & Space Sciences department at the Florida Institute of Technology (a scientist who beat all of the odds: poverty, homelessness, single-parent, poor early education, etc., to get to where he is today).

“Black Sun” explores how and why the two men became scientists, their opposing paths and personalities, their struggles as minorities in a STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics) field, and their noteworthy accomplishments today.


 



Related Link:
Hubble's Diverse Universe

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Moore's Law Another Day...

"[Gordon] Moore is my boss, and if your boss makes a law, then you'd better follow it," says Mark Bohr, who leads Intel's efforts to make advances in microchip design practical to manufacture. Moore's Law, of course, was first proposed by Bohr's boss in 1965, when Moore pointed out that the number of transistors on a chip doubles every year. The current form of Moore's law has been set since 1975, when Moore altered the pace to a doubling every two years. Remarkably, the computer industry has maintained that pace ever since, training us to expect computers to become ever faster in the process.

 

Technology Review:
Moore's Law Lives Another Day

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Valjeanne pulls a Switch!

The Switch, by Valjeanne Jeffers, noted and uber talented member of BSFS, introduced to us a world ruled by a repressive, dictatorial regime presiding over an unequal two-tier system. On the planet Tyrol, the wealthy reside above ground. They enjoy the opulent perks of their privileged status and regard with class-laden disdain those who eke out hollow existences in the impoverished squalor of the underground.

Z100, a beautiful spy and assassin, was instrumental in the coup that brought about the present order. As a reward, she lives the life of the decadently rich, incurring the jealousy and resentment of those in her class who deem her undeserving. Of course, her skills, reputation and power makes her a very dangerous person. But it's who Z100 is that also makes her a vital component in a plot by a group of revolutionaries to overthrow Tyrol's ruling regime.

The Switch II follows through with this plot, its success or failure hinging on key conspirator, Simone 2. The twists in this roller coaster tale were enough to make me feel like a twizzler. There are plenty of dazzling steampunk elements in both I and II. Particularly the sequel, where Valjeanne crafts a detailed and descriptive steampunk sub-terrain environment to contrast a sleek, hi tech upper world. The detail she pours into settings are not lost on the human element. There is good, solid characterization in this work. The heroes are sympathetic and utterly human. The villain, Z100, is a morally repugnant sort, but there is room for multi-dimensionality in her character. Fantasy, science fiction, and suspense meld to make Switch I and II a literary pleasure.  

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In this month's Urbanite Magazine

The sun wearily peeled off the horizon's tight grip as it crept upon Route 40 during its habitual rise above the infinite sprawl of strewn metal and concrete deities some called city.

Anachronistic train tracks clanged like loud hammers rudely crisscrossing socioeconomic and cultural borders like thick coagulating blood traversing the veins of some terrestrial body begrudgingly awakened from its slumber.

Pillz could see the slight drops of mist outside his tall windows that served as his entry point to the gleaming downtown of skyscrapers and golden-hued, electroplated steeples. He could see the faint reflection of himself in the window.

He looked younger than he should.

His life was a war. Or was his war life?

Pillz smiled egotistically, amazed that he still possessed the frame of some raw powerful athlete. Twenty years went in a blink. Twenty years ago, he was a B-Boy—a term the hip-hop proletariat identified by before the corporate takeover of hip-hop. B-Boy wuz before real hip-hop slowly tapped out to the brutal commercial takedown, replete with collateral industries of quasi-scientific over-analysis of one myopic slice of Black culture.

Twenty years ago, Pillz was a B-Boy and a hoop-god, infallible to gravity with the ability to dunk a basketball in the contorted faces of many a challenger seeking to earn a rep by dismantling his.

That was then, and then was always good.

But then wasn't now, even though at times he felt like he was again back then—when endorphins saturated his being. Still, then was just always a thought away, when he was that dude.

Returning to the now, Pillz ditched his memories like a pair of old kicks tossed onto the street wire. He stared into the sky and smiled like the city was his.

Mornings and late night were the only times he could steal those elusive, brutally honest moments of mental Tai Chi before the noise of the outside world ushered in his new list of "gotta-dos."

Inescapable as body odor, his gotta-dos had morphed into majestic pyramids of collection notices and overdraft fees mercilessly competing with his joneses to do better than yesterday.

Pillz measured his self-worth by the "got-dones." His got-dones were the only currency that mattered, and as always, his gotta-dos were messing wit his got-dones. Sweating 'em like some hacking overzealous defender trying to stop him from getting to the rim. Pillz knew how to get a tight defender up off him, how to break them ankles, cross 'em over to get the room he needed to score. No one could stop him from getting to the rim. He knew what to do and how to do it, he just needed motivation . . . Coffee, thought Pillz. Italian? ... Nah, Ethiopian.

Morning intervals of past hoop dreams transitioned into nothingness.

Nothingness rudely shattered by the vibrating noise from his phone symbiotically atop his copy of Gerald Massey's Lectures. According to Massey, the early church left out helluva lot of information about who Jesus was.

Pillz wondered if Dan Brown with all his DaVinci shit had ever read Massey or Alvin Boyd Kuhn. He knew Brown read Holy Blood, Holy Grail, and Messianic Legacy 'cause he read both of them back in '94 himself. Hollywood was a mutha, Pillz laughed to himself as he picked up the phone to figure out who the hell be calling him this early.

Maybe it was Jesus?

The caller I.D. read WT, but he knew he didn't know anyone named WT.

WT? Maybe that's short for what the ... Pillz laughed to himself as he decided to answer the phone anyway.

"Yeah," said Pillz, all the while hoping not to end his four-year streak of successfully ignoring the pitiful attempts of debt collectors to confirm he existed. Maybe they were closing in on him? Maybe he was gonna have to move off the grid quicker than he thought.

Alaska?

All the fresh salmon you could catch ... Nah. Plus, now they got gangs in Alaska. It's too damn cold to gangbang in Alaska. Gangs must be like "Yeah, kid, when I see you this summer, it's on! In six months when them icicles drop, watch ya back, fool."

Now, that would be just my luck—survive B'more and instead of catching salmon, catch a bullet. And it probably won't even be a gangbanger—just some trigger-happy Republican with bad eyesight thinking I'm a Black Russian. Okay, ixnay Alaska.

"I'm trying to reach Pillz."

"Who you?"

"I'm WT."

"Yeah ... what up," mumbled Pillz.

"I got your number from a chick in my yoga class, Tina. She said you had the good shit."

"Yeah," smiled Pillz. "Oh, you talking 'bout double-jointed Tina with the bad eye?" Pillz stopped suddenly. "What shit you talking 'bout?"

"Well, I got some serious pain going on, and Tina said you could help."

"OK. Maybe I can help you . . . maybe not, "said Pillz cryptically.

WT paused for a second, and Pillz could almost hear him thinking through the phone. Pillz glanced up, just in time to see a pigeon land on his window and grin, like kid you got too many gotta-dos to turn down cash.

The bird just sat there chilling.

Pillz stared at the bird like this won't Occupy Wall Street, you had to get buzzed into this building. Wall Street, Occupy, Left or Right didn't matter none to him—they all had they hustle, and he had his.

For bretheren like Pillz, it was like people who played the lottery, worrying 'bout the Dow Jones averages.

Shit, at least with the lottery, poor people had an actual chance to win. Pillz had a multitude of clients, and they politics wuz they own problem.

He sold to the Occupy and Wall Street execs in the same transaction, and a few of his Goldman Sachs clients invited him into an offshore hedge fund managed via an MP3 player and a private-invitation-only social media site. By the time the government realized he'd joined the secret society of alchemical masters manufacturing money out of thin air, he'd have already cleared 'bout $2 billion. If the Feds catch me, I'll just ask the other Feds who bailed out my clients to bail me out—heard they got Bernanke on speed dial.

The pigeon looked at Pillz like he heard his thoughts and like it wasn't no normal pigeon but more like some winged sage. An animal angel whose job it was to warn cats by shitting on 'em, before they slipped up and did something like buying that just-before-closing, last batch of shrimp-fried rice from that red-bricked Chinese restaurant that operated on the occupied side of a semi-abandoned row house.

This shit was weird enough to be on the new show about ancient animal aliens.

Pillz looked at the pigeon and saw he was wearing a pair of Jordan Melos.

Damn, didn't know they came that small.

Note to self, grimaced Pillz. Never buy that last batch of shrimp fried rice at closing time.

"So, you gonna tell me what you got?" said WT breaking up Pillz's unplanned meander into the sordid world of friends with feathers.

"I need to see if it is worth my while to head your way. You off 40, right?" said WT.

"I don't put my biz out there like that, kid—this is Bal'more. You could be wearing a wire," said Pillz. "Tell you what, meet me at Lexington and Eutaw around 11, and I think I can help you."

An hour flipped into two as Pillz threw on his black hoodie and made his way across the city toward Lexington Market. It was a blustery day with the sun peeking out between dark clouds that shifted back and forth across the sky.

The wind blew with an unusual aggressiveness.

Pillz swore he saw tumbleweed blow down the street. He had never seen it so empty. The only thing open was the dollar store. It was even emptier outside than the day the First Lady unexpectedly showed up to buy some cheap snacks for the White House.

I think it was the First Lady, Pillz mused. Or maybe it was Oprah, 'cause they wouldn't open the door?

He looked up only to see what had to be WT walking towards him with a major limp.

WT was about 6'4" with a limp that made him 6' even. He struggled up the block, grimacing, eyes squinting against the wind as it slapped him in his face. He was in pain; Pillz could see that. He could also see that kid looked like a narc.

Nah, retail security guard, concluded Pillz.

"What up . . . Pillz," said Pillz introducing himself with a closed-fist pound to WT.

WT smiled sparingly and instead of pounding Pillz with a return closed fist nervously tried to shake his fist.

Pillz stared over WT's shoulder and then glanced in the cardinal directions to make sure was clear.

"OK, you got the ends?"

"Yeah," remarked WT, "you got the product?"

"I do, but I need to see some ends," said Pillz.

"Yeah, I understand," said WT as he slid the tightly folded cash over to Pillz's outstretched palm. "I just don't wanna get ripped off. Everybody in B'more got a hustle, it seems."

"You right about that," smiled Pillz, "but vicking somebody ain't mine. We good," said Pillz as his eyes scoured the perimeter. "Just walk over a few steps to your left and look down underneath that empty brown bag bottle of gin and we good," he whispered.

A helicopter zoomed overhead across the skyline, recklessly doing figure eights over the top of the seniors building, scaring the shit out of old people.

Without hesitation, WT walked looking down, saw the empty brown bag bottle of gin, and picked it up. He peeked inside and saw about an ounce of the good stuff wrapped up in a sandwich baggie.

He looked up eager to signal to Pillz he was good, but by the time he turned around Pillz was ghost. All WT saw was intersecting concrete blocks that led to nowhere. He scanned the other direction and saw some old tumbleweed floating down Eutaw.

He knew what the tumbleweed meant: He had until sundown to get the hell out of Dodge. Either that, or it was Sunday and Lexington Market was closed.

The sun peeked through the weaving clouds for a quick cameo as WT slid his pocket knife out from his front pocket and cut a small slit into the baggie. He lifted a hit of the powder and rubbed a small taste on his tongue.

His eyes rolled back in delight and he could feel the pain leaving his body almost instantly. WT tucked the product into his hoody pocket and started trekking up the street back home.

He smiled to himself, thinking, Damn, this is the purest glucosamine-chondroitin on the streets of B'More.

He wasn't proud of the fact that he had a habit and had to deal with all types of strangers to get his fix on, but he was a stone health junkie and he wasn't apologizing for that.

It was like that, and that's the way it is.

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After years of personal practice in the act of writing, I’ve come to the conclusion that not all dialogue is created equal or the same.  Personally, I believe that there are various types of dialogue that have a unique and specific function in a story. However, for now, I’ll focus on three types of dialogue types. These dialogue types are as  following: descriptive, functional, and epic.


Dialogue Type I: Descriptive

Descriptive dialogue explains your story plot and your character’s purpose. It can also revel itself in many ways, but the most common way (and the easiest to illustrate my example) is the student-teacher conversations. (Think: Yoda-Skywalker or Gandalf-Fodo interactions.)

Example: Confused Student with an inferiority complex talks with Teacher.

    Student: “But what is my purpose? I am nothing compared to my brother.”

    Teacher: “One’s purpose is discovered, my child.”

    Student: “But how?”

    Teacher:  “Fight for it.”

     Descriptive dialogue is a great way to introduce the plot of your story without resorting to excessive illustrative prose.


Dialogue Type II: Functional

Functional dialogue sets up your story. These are the conversations that are usually forgotten by your reader/audience but is necessary in setting up the plot of your story.

Example:  Hero is lost in a big city.

    Hero: ‘Where in the world is Avia Water Street?’

    Random Stranger:  “Down two stoplights and past the Chinese restaurant.”

    Hero: “Okay, thanks!

Functional dialogue doesn’t need to be mind-blindingly creative. It just gets your character or story from Point A to Point B.

Dialogue Type II: Epic

Epic Dialogue is probably the most important type of dialogue you write when you are crafting a story. This is the dialogue that defines your entire story and will leave the greatest impression on your readers/audience. Usually, this type of epic is found in the climax. Epic dialogue contents the lines that are quoted excessively by readers/audience members because it leaves an internal thematic ring inside them.

Examples:

    Star Wars:  “I am your father.”

    300: "Prepare for glory!"

    Dirty Harry:  “Go ahead, make my day.”

Epic dialogue is the toughest to write and is extremely depended on the previous conversational exchanges between your various characters, the story line, and the intensity of the climax. Therefore,  a writer' epic line/dialogue is linked to overall story design.

 

 

More about Dialogue in the Camali’s Writing Tips - Dialogue, Part 3

A.N.: Leave your thoughts in the comment section below and thanks for all the good feedback!

 

 

 

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Open Apology...

ALdotcom: Girls in Science and Engineering


I don't think it arrogant to apologize for an entire half of a species, since many of the sins of that part I am member - male - I can recall in myself, and constantly seek penance when I recognize certain behaviors I may have consciously, or unwittingly participated in.


I follow the blog "Female Science Professor" (who also hosts Scientopia). Her posts lead to a study by Yale School of Management Professor Victoria L. Brescoll, who authored a paper titled: "Who Takes the Floor and Why: Gender, Power, and Volubility in Organizations." A summary of its findings from Bob Sutton's insightful blog:

  1. In a study of United States senators (using data from 2005 and 2007), more powerful male senators talked quite a bit more on the senate floor than less powerful male senators. But there were no significant differences between how much powerful female senators talked compared to less powerful female senators.

  2. This finding was replicated in a controlled experiment -- again, more powerful men talked more, more powerful women didn't. Additional analyses suggested that powerful women hesitated to talk more because they were concerned about "potential backlash," that they would be seen as less likable, "out of line," domineering, too controlling, would lose power, and be less effective.

As our three branches of government goes, so goes academia, industry; innovation.

That's concerning, because by mid century we will reach a population of 9 billion, meaning as with our birth rates, our problems will multiply exponentially and will need competent technologists to solve them. Women will constitute a majority in the sciences and engineering. I don't see how this moribund, draconian, Neanderthal base attitude can continue, and our competitiveness on a global scale "goes forth" unimpeded as if by the magic of Manifest Destiny!

 

In a sense, Fred and Barney haven't quite left the cave in mythical Bedrock.

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Psychic Fun!

Veterans of the Psychic Wars by Wayne Gerard Trotman, is a Hollywood blockbuster compressed in a book. Action abounds with little let up in this fast paced, thoughtful, imminently entertaining science fiction novel. 

 

Roman Doyle is an unassuming school teacher, husband, and soon-to-be-father on a midnight snack run for his pregnant wife when he's assailed by strangers he presumes to be common street thugs. Events take a further turn when a good Samitarian intervenes on Roman's behalf. His rescuer soon reveals that Roman is an exiled prince, an heir to the throne of an Interstellar Empire currently ruled by a usurper. From that moment of revelation, Roman must battle forces bent on eliminating him. In the process, he must train his mind and body to master the superhuman skills required to triumph over his enemies. The task is supremely difficult, and all is not as it appears as Roman and his wise mentor fight to regain a throne and save an empire from destruction.

 

Superbly crafted fight scenes populate this book, from single combat, to massive space battles. There's wonder, drama and mystery, bearing promise of a sequel. The author takes a medley of science fiction tropes, from aliens and spaceships to telepathy and artificial intelligence and creates an epic universe-building tale. Veterans of the Psychic Wars is a must read. 

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Eclipses in Hollywood Films

I just wrote a blog about eclipses in Hollywood films over on our sister site blackcommunityentertainment.com. 

http://blackcommunityentertainment.com/read_blog/2560/solar-eclipses-in-science-fiction-films

I mention the films "Pitch Black", "The Chronicles of Riddick", the TV shows "Heroes" and "Avatar: The Last Airbender".  In these films we have the eclipses: releasing monsters, giving powers, and taking away powers. 

I pose the question: 

What films have you seen that feature eclipses and how is the eclipse used in the plot? 

Please leave comments here or tweet me @astroholbrook

Also, Donate to my film "Black Sun" on Kickstarter: http://kck.st/J2q1qy

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Cinco de Mayo...

Battle of Puebla - Wikipedia

Cinco de Mayo (Spanish for "fifth of May") is a celebration held on May 5. It is celebrated nationwide in the United States and regionally in Mexico, primarily in the state of Puebla, where the holiday is called El Dia de la Batalla de Puebla (English: The Day of the Battle of Puebla). The date is observed in the United States as a celebration of Mexican heritage and pride, and to commemorate the cause of freedom and democracy during the first years of the American Civil War. In the state of Puebla, the date is observed to commemorate the Mexican army's unlikely victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862, under the leadership of General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín. Contrary to widespread popular belief, Cinco de Mayo is not Mexico's Independence Day—the most important national patriotic holiday in Mexico—which is actually celebrated on September 16. (Wikipedia)

The National Society of Hispanic Physicists has a recognition page of Hispanic Americans in Physics - Past, Present and Future. Similar to what I posted during the month of February, my intention is to give the same attention to Hispanic Scientists and Engineers during the celebration of National Hispanic Heritage Month.

 

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

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The Priestess is Coming....

Summer is rapidly approaching and once more the Priestess her loyal mortal protectors and the Gods themselves will soon return!

Last year closed with many unanswered questions raised at the conclusion of the grand saga spanning time itself. Once again through her beauty, wisdom and terrible power the Priestess will hold the fertile Valley Region as the crossroads for mortal and god alike! All Hail the Priestess....

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Writing dialogue is one of those things you, as a storyteller, will either love or hate. Depending on your personality and your writing style, dialogue can be thing that you enjoy the most about writing, or it will cause the great writing disaster known as the writer's block.

 

Generally, if you are a person who talks a lot and with a lot of people, writing dialogue is easier for you because you inherently understand the flow and web of small talk and critical conversations.  On the flip side, if you are the type of person who speaks only when spoken to and is the living embodiment of the silent stone warrior, it doesn’t mean that you will be a bad at writing dialogue (often the silent are the best observers, and that gives them good story perception).  Nevertheless, dialogue is something that must be included in a story.

 

Now, why is dialogue so important? Dialogue is important because it has two purposes in story creation: 1) it advances the storyline and 2)it  develops and/or personalizes your character (s).

 

Point #1: Advancing the storyline.

    Dialogue advances the storyline because it allows your characters to interact with each other. The most common way we, as human beings, interact together is through talking. By using dialogue you can: cause conflict, educate the reader to the world you’ve created, have a character explain their reasoning behind their actions, etc.  Dialogue is “story action in real-time” for your reader, so it makes the reader pay closer attention to what’s going on in your story.  Too much description will annoy a good number of readers when reading a story. Readers want action, and dialogue is a form of action.

 

Point #2: Dialogue  deepens  your character’s personality.

 

Dialogue is hugely dependent on the character (s) you have created. For example, if your character is from the streets, shoots rival criminals, and curses, when you are about to write a scene where he is about to get drunk, having him say, “I shall now engage in the activity of alcoholic consumption, my dear sirs.”  will not only make your reader go ‘huh?’ but will also  destroy the authenticity of your story.  If he were to say, “I’m gonna get crunk. Hell to the yea.” Or “Give me that bottle of rum now!”  Then such lines would personalize your character and make him authentic. Authenticity is the key to story creation.

 

(Important Note: This is why, as a writer, you need to invest great amounts of time developing and creating your characters before you start writing. Understanding their past mistakes and future goals will allow you to write them well.)

 

More about Dialogue in the Camali’s Writing Tips - Dialogue, Part 2

 

A.N.: Leave your thoughts in the comment section below.

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Post Carbon Society...

 


Being one that grew up during an era of segregation, "the American Dream" I managed to achieve via education and working in an industry that education prepared me quite well for.

 
In an era of "sound-bite politics"; short-sighted goals more concerned with "team victory" than with governing, this documentary should be a part of the debate on education, energy, science and ultimately jobs in this country.

 
As we see the price of gasoline rise at the pump: the price of bringing food to suburbia also rises, as fuel prices rise for the grocers to ship food to their shelves - they transfer that cost to us, a de facto tax irrespective of political party.

 
My fondest childhood memories: my father's "victory garden" he loved to work in our backyard. Literally every vegetable we consumed was grown out back, we then purchased our meats at the grocery store. It saved us much money. Today, it would allow consumers to buy more range-fed poultry and cattle products, healthy as well as a kind of Noble savage protest. In the aftermath of 9-11 and Hurricane Katrina, we're no longer looking for the Cavalry.

 
We may in the end, all need victory gardens...

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Alien Sunrise...

Credit: New Scientist

Object: the star HIP 56948

Size: same as the sun

Temperature: same as the sun

Composition: same as the sun

Planets: same as the sun?
 

In the search for other Earths, the main goal is to find a planet the same size as ours that sits in the habitable zone – the region around a given star where planetary surface temperature would be similar to ours, allowing liquid water to exist.


But while an Earth-sized world in one of these habitable zones might have seas and rivers, it would look quite different bathed in blue-white or red light. That could affect the development of life. To exploit the available light, plant leaves could be yellow, orange or red, according to research in 2007 by the Virtual Planetary Laboratory at the California Institute of Technology.

 


Two observations:

  • 200 light years away: this will require breakthrough propulsion physics (blogged on last year), else such a trip is definitely "one-way" only.
  • Hm...that means "eat your spinach" could be even dicier if it's yellow! Just saying...Smiley
 
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Lecturing at CTN Expo: "I don't want to see your degree - I want to see what you can do!"

I've been shocked and dismayed at the feedback I've received since my recent workshop presentation at the CTN Expo, entitled "I don't want to see your degree - I want to see what you can do!" It appears that so many students, past and current, are entirely dissatisfied with the education they are receiving... especially in terms of the huge fees they are paying to their schools to give them that education! The main criticism seems to be the fact that some animation teachers do not do, or even know, what they are teaching - and therefore students are being turned out totally unprepared for the industry of today.

I don't so much blame the schools for this entirely but I do find the accreditation requirements they are subject to a problem. The core issue is that many of the top industry professionals who want to teach (and are totally capable of teaching) are prevented from doing so because they don't have a degree. Conversely, a graduate who barely scrapes through a slack degree program and is subsequently totally incapable of getting a job in the industry is embraced as a teacher because they have a piece of paper to their name! I even know of experienced Disney and Pixar level artists/animators who can't teach at most schools because they don't have a degree... because they have never needed one, as progress in the industry is measured by demonstrable skills not pieces of paper.

I began to learn of this issue when I researched my book, "JUMPING THROUGH HOOPS: The Animation Job Coach". However, I had no idea of the scale of the problem until after my talk at CTNX, since when so many students shared their tales of woe with me. I do believe that it is necessary to insist on academic degrees for the sciences, for math, for medicine, for engineering, etc. but it is totally inappropriate to insist on these in a creative, 'other-side-of-the brain' disciplines such as art and animation. In these fields it is what you can practically do that measures you, not what you know intellectually.

Consequently, I jumped at the chance of developing my own 2-year, 'Advanced Degree' program at AIE-Seattle, where I believe it perfectly possible to prepare students well for the industry in that amount of time without the other distractions that longer degree courses are required to offer. I am also currently developing an exciting animation degree program for AIE-Seattle too - but that will be totally focused on preparing students properly for the industry of their choice and not just throwing a number of inessential classes at them to make up the numbers. 

For me the best animation school in the world is Gobelins in France, where they don't have the same degree/accreditation requirements to fulfill - they are essentially funded by the government and the industry itself. Hopefully we can get close to that in Seattle, despite the challenges the US educational system offers the betterment of the animation industry. Luckily, by having the Bad Penguin apprenticeship option to offer my AIE students in the future I can supplement the program with that most difficult qualification any school might ever provide... 'industry experience'!

For the record, here's a recent Gobelins student film... 'Oktapodi'! This example is not alone in the level of competence displayed by their films, as any search on YouTube will reveal. 

Time for us in the USA to fight back I'd say!


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Silly Science Predictions...


"Silly science" Cartoon by NilbogLAND

I used this as an intro to "Why not S.T.E.M. (science, technology, engineering, mathematics)?" at Bethel Missionary Baptist Church to 31 students last Saturday. Kids put together their own original circuits & demonstrated to the group. BTW: the young ladies ROCKED. Two girls - 7 and 9 - needed a sliding or push button switch for their "flying saucer." When they couldn't find one in the kits provided, they designed and made their own!

The video "Silly Science" was created in 1960 (Cold War days), and I recall seeing it on Saturday morning shows. Some "predictions" of this 52-year-old cartoon:

Remote Control Box: Universal Remote Control

Robot Dishwasher: Automatic Dishwasher

Robot Vacuum Cleaner: Roomba

Talk-o-Vision: Video Conferencing / Skype

Glass Bottom Boats: See-Through Boats

Remote Control and Radioactivity: Remote Control for Nuclear Power

Instant Highways: Interstate Highway System

Aerial Refueling… (Not of cars!)

Rental Cars… (Not inflatable!)

Drive-Along Movies (now car DVDs)

Auto Parks... Mega Theme Parks

Toll Roads… (Sigh!)

Humans Riding Dinosaurs…ahem, not really!
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Minivan Meteorite...



The picture taken in Reno, Nevada, on Sunday morning shows a meteor the size of a minivan plunging through the Earth's atmosphere, according to Bill Cooke of the Meteoroid Environments Office at NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama.



Of course, this would have been one heavy minivan. Cooke said it weighed about 154,300 pounds. Your minivan probably weighs in at about 4,000 pounds.

 

CNN Light Years: NASA: Meteor over California and Nevada was size of minivan

 

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