A strange week in the news cycle. On one loop, the crazy king of Orangetown brought us to within 90 minutes of Armageddon before realizing it was Taco Tuesday and perhaps declaring global thermonuclear war wasn’t the best way to win the Nobel Peace Prize.
Meanwhile, mankind’s greatest endeavor went off without a hitch as a diverse and skillful group of our finest went further into the cosmos than ever before. On the way they showed us the wonders of our translunar backyard, gave us a moment of beauty and sorrow as the mission commander named a bright crater after his wife and hell, generally made space travel cool again. I know I’ve dunked on the notion of humanity’s exploits in the void recently—it’s no secret that everything outside our fragile atmosphere is lethal. But I couldn’t help but get a joyful chill at some the images Artemis sent back, and felt I could allow myself to dream again.
With all the crap going on down here, perhaps it’s better to look to the stars again.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas is one of SF’s greatest thought experiments. It considers notions of sacrifice, suffering and collective responsibility in a brutally elegant short story. However, once you dig a little, there are more choices available than Le Guin would have us think. Knowing her, that was always the case. She just wanted us to take some time and really think about it.
Rob is watching…
Blossom frothing on tree branches. Green sprouts and new life bursting out of the warming earth. The garden, waking at last.
And new Taskmaster. That Armando Ianucci’s a hoot, isn’t he?
Rob is listening…
What, this? Oh, no reason.
Rob is eating…
Leftovers from Easter, mostly. Yesterday I grabbed cooked chicken, smoky sausage and mushrooms, mixed them with cream, stock and a little vermouth, tossed with rigatoni, topped with a frankly pornographic amount of cheese then baked until crispy and bubbly on top. Oh yeah, you know you want it.
This weekend’s mission—finish off the big pile of hot cross buns.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Anything done in an inflatable T-Rex suit is objectively funny. Give one to a harpist and well—just take a look.
Henry Morris talks to the architect of Brexit, Dominic Cummings. I’m ashamed to say, it took me a while to figure out this was satire. The blade is very subtle and very sharp.
A Labrador Talking To Archimedes
Cassette futurism is an aesthetic, a vibe, a groove which is quietly percolating out of the cinematic zone and into tech we can get our grubby mitts on. It’s tactile, grabbable, the element of control freed from behind the glass of a touchscreen, presenting as actuators you can twist, buttons you can poke. It’s all delightful, bringing a sense of fun and exploration back into our mundane point-and-click lives.
A long piece on how Chinese manufacturer BYD built a safer battery and what that means for manufacturing as a whole. Taking known and long-established processes back to their starting principles and building anew is a great way to find new working practices. It’s no surprise BYD has their competitors so spooked.
I’m a fan of writer Mason Currey, and his tips and tricks on how to make a living out of writing. In this guest bit for Jillian Hess’ Substack, he reveals his messy, inefficient methods. Like the folks at BYD, he seems to have broken everything down and started again in the way that works best for him. You have to admire that.
Martin Belam, long-time music nerd and Whovian, on the release of two episodes of early Doctor Who thought lost forever. This is good stuff, and thoughtful on the challenges of film and video archive. There’s so much material from recent decades which is dangerously close to becoming irretrievable, as the tape medium rapidly degrades and the machines used to play them go into landfill or simply become too expensive to repair.
Episodes I Thought I’d Never See
I loved this geeky poke around at the visual style of Belle And Sebastian’s record cover art. Reading the interviews makes it all seem so ad hoc, but presented as a whole, there’s a real sense of continuity and thoughtful adherence to a set of design principles. Go have a wallow.
It seems like new big yellow storage facilities are opening every week, as people accumulate stuff then can’t quite bear to get rid of it. Michael Haskell may be unusual in that he’s taken on a career as vault digger at an early age, but there are plenty of folks out there doing exactly the same. There’s money to be made from people’s inability to buy stuff they don’t really need.
This is important and useful guidance. I’m sure the members of The Readership are completely comfortable with this simple set of rules, but the pandemic did mean some essentials got forgotten. Don’t queue at the bar, please!
Author Helen DeWitt has turned down a $175k award because of all the promotional work it would involve. Honestly, I can’t say I blame her. It’s a life-changing amount of money, but if the trials involved in collecting it make that life a misery, then why do it? She’s an instant introvert hero. Helen DeWitt, we applaud you—quietly.
Some Things Are More Important Than Money
Last up, a brilliant example of solid parenting. Follow on into the comments for other inspired moments of cruelty.
On the eve of the release of a long-overdue documentary on blues shouter Big Mama Thornton, here’s a concert she played in Eugene, Oregon in 1971. She’s a powerful performer and a character who deserves to be better known beyond the lazy claim to fame as the first interpreter of Hound Dog. Cut loose!
See you in seven, fellow travellers.
EXCUSES AND HALF TRUTHS 