Homo Faber in der digitalen Welt. Zur Aktualität von Max Frischs Roman.

Eine halbe Stunde auf SWR 2. Jammert zwar ein bisschen viel über Facebook und Twitter und das angebliche Fehlen von echter Nähe (was auch immer das sein mag), ist aber trotzdem hörenswert, wie sich Herr Faber als Technikgläubiger heute zurechtfinden würde. Oder auch nicht. Seine Sprache habe angeblich „den unterkühlten Charme einer rasch herausgejagten E-Mail“. Und er wäre vielleicht ein prima Techblogger. Frisch: „Schreiben heißt: sich selber lesen.“

(via @v_i_o_l_a)

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What Coke Contains

„The Vons grocery store two miles from my home in Los Angeles, California sells 12 cans of Coca-Cola for $6.59 — 54 cents each. The tool chain that created this simple product is incomprehensibly complex.“

Sehr aufschlussreicher Bericht darüber, was alles für eine Dose Cola benötigt wird.

(via Dirk Steins auf quote.fm)

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Here I am. Fatigue, depression and infertility

Sehr lang, sehr anstrengend, sehr lesenswert. Darum geht’s:

„I was once an illegal alien in The Netherlands. I was once pregnant. I was once reported to immigration services by a Dutch woman who knew I was both illegal and pregnant. I was once detained. I was once denied medical care while in a deportation center. I was once deported. I had a miscarriage (the baby was dead, I had a botched clean up procedure in an understaffed and badly maintained hospital in a suburb of Buenos Aires). I am now sterile.

That was fifteen years ago and this is now.“

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Ray Cusick, designer of the Daleks, died on February 21st, aged 84

Der Economist mal wieder mit einem schönen Nachruf:

„Critics were sceptical, until the fan mail arrived. Children across Britain huddled behind their sofas in squeaking, enjoyable terror. Mr Cusick’s own daughters ran, eyes closed, past the Dalek picture he put at the head of the stairs. The aliens from planet Skaro sparked countless playground games. The screeching atonal voice demanded imitation. Elbows in, arms stuck out stiffly, knees together, and the chase began. They were among the greatest science-fiction monsters ever conceived.

The unwise mocked their lethal armament (it resembled a plumber’s rubber plunger and an egg whisk) and their inability to climb. A cartoon in Britain’s satirical Private Eye magazine captioned them flummoxed by a staircase. “Well, this certainly buggers our plan to conquer the Universe” it read. “Real Daleks don’t climb stairs; they level the building,” retorted their fans.“