Martin Heidegger wrote that the true essence of a tool shines through at the moment when it breaks. The Barcelona-based Joystick collective takes this insight to its logical conclusion for internet art. On their website, in addition to theoretical texts and records of their various performances, one can find Joystick's ERROR project, an 'investigation of the aesthetics of glitches.' The ongoing project takes as its starting point 'The Raw Archive,' a collection of images, video and sound files. Each captures a particular slip-up in the digital process, removing it from its original context and reframing it as art. One favorite is a brief clip, tagged as a 'video compression error:' prismatic blocks of color seeth and slide apart while the ghostly forms of nude women flicker in and out, barely perceptible amidst the shimmering noise. Joystick's ultimate goal is to explore the patterns in the glitches that their fans send them in further works of art--so if you are ever frustrated with your computer's misfires, be sure to send them Joystick's way!
Go here: ERROR_PROJECT to see.
« November 2004 | Main | January 2005 »
31/12/2004
When will it be the year of the Cock?
无法找到该页
您正在搜索的页面可能已经删除、更名或暂时不可用。
请尝试以下操作：
确保浏览器的地址栏中显示的网站地址的拼写和格式正确无误。
如果通过单击链接而到达了该网页，请与网站管理员联系，通知他们该链接的格式不正确。
单击后退按钮尝试另一个链接。
错误 文件或目录未找到。
信息服务
技术信息（为技术支持人员提供）
转到 Microsoft 产品支持服务并搜索包括“”和“”的标题。
打开“ 帮助”（可在 管理器 中访问），然后搜索标题为“网站设置”、“常规管理任务”和“关于自定义错误消息”的主题。
TRANSLATION: Even numbers are Beelzebub's handymen. 2005 is gonna rock. Are you? Am I? Why not? I say why the hell not?
30/12/2004
Natural Disaster Anyone
So the tsunami, a Philly church caught on fire at dawn, every major path through the Siera Madre shut down because of ice & snow, Artie Shaw died, I have a table of fireworks to explode. The continuing atrocities in Iraq, etcetera etcetera. On top of all this I suspect someone's kidnapped my brother & hijacked his computer, writing me very non-brother-type emails to throw me off the path. I'm not paranoid I didn't just smoke a joint. Though my brother did just write me to tell me how "weird" I am to worry he's been kidnapped, including clues that only I would know the answer to so that I can stop obsessing about someone kidnapping him. I'm just saying. Nostradamus you got anything else to add? Jonathan Richman can you come over and sing me a lullabye? Nostradamus, you know Jonathan don't you?
The Kinks "Victoria"
Oh Molly You're So Pretty When You Cry!
My Christmas was looking pretty sad. Beef couldn't make it because he had to go help out his brother down in Mojave, and Tina was over at some awful girlfriend's house (not that I was invited). I set up a little nightstand bonsai tree in my room and decorated it with some glow-in-the-dark confetti stars. I put a couple little gifts under it, like some new Blistex and a Stila lipstick (for me, of course). That was about the extent of the Christmas Spirit around our place.
On Christmas eve around seven o'clock I was sitting at the dinner table watching Law & Order, about to twirl my fork into a plate of Lean Cuisine capellini, a glass of two-buck Chuck by my side, when the doorbell rang. Figuring it was some lost partygoer I got ready to point out wherever it was that so-and-so lived, and didn't even look through the peephole. I nearly died when I opened the door and it was Beef, holding a neatly-wrapped gift and a big bag of Chinese takeout. He was even wearing a nice sweater which I knew wasn't his.
He walked into the apartment and I gave him a hug. Then I had to excuse myself to the bedroom for a moment...it was too much to think how pitiful my expectations for the evening had been before he showed up, compared to what I was getting now. I misted and dabbed for a good minute before doing a couple jumping-jacks, slapping my cheeks and bounding back out into the main room, where he had begun setting the steaming food up on plates and platters.
We had a lovely meal of salt and pepper shrimp, pork and tofu kung pao, two lakes soup, lamb chow fun, and a bunch of other stuff. He had brought some Heineken to drink and pretty soon we were giddy like kids.
He said he had a present for me and I ran into the bedroom to get his little trinket from under the bonsai. I insisted on giving him his present first – a table of all the local train times, formatted using his favorite sans-serif font (Hudson Regular). I made it at Kinko's and had it bound in special leather, so he could keep it in his pocket like a conductor. Beef is nuts about trainspotting. He didn't say anything, but clamped up and gave me a great big hug, which was even better. That was all he needed to do.
Then he handed me this wrapped box and I didn't know what to expect. It wasn't too heavy and it didn't rattle. I lifted the tape off the ends, unfolded the paper, and...Converse! That's right, a black pair of low-top Chuck Taylors! Not just any guy can get you a pair of low-top Chucks. You have to really know the girl. I put them on right away and danced all around the apartment. To get himself out of dancing duty he put on some music and opened us two more beers. I don't know when I've gotten a better present, or had a happier Christmas.
29/12/2004
28/12/2004
22/12/2004
crispt
and let me just say that I love you I love you my brother I'm thinking of you, Lee, Kuh, Fork - D, Andy, Jen - Meesha, Hermy, Allie, Jilly, Weybright, K, J - etc etc etc - Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!