The Random Awwesome

I ask my students every week to write 10 observations of the actual world. It’s very hard for them.

Ms. Tippett:

Really?

Ms. Howe:

They really find it hard.

Ms. Tippett:

What do you mean? What is the assignment? 10 observations of their actual world?

Ms. Howe:

Just tell me what you saw this morning like in two lines. I saw a water glass on a brown tablecloth, and the light came through it in three places. No metaphor. And to resist metaphor is very difficult because you have to actually endure the thing itself, which hurts us for some reason.

Ms. Tippett:

It does.

Ms. Howe:

It hurts us.

Ms. Tippett:

You naming something.

Ms. Howe:

We want to say, “It was like this; it was like that.” We want to look away. And to be with a glass of water or to be with anything — and then they say, “Well, there’s nothing important enough.” And that’s whole thing. It’s the point.

Ms. Howe:

It’s the this, right?

Ms. Howe:

Right, the this, whatever. And then they say, “Oh, I saw a lot of people who really want” — and, “No, no, no. No abstractions, no interpretations.” But then this amazing thing happens, Krista. The fourth week or so, they come in and clinkety, clank, clank, clank, onto the table pours all this stuff. And it so thrilling. I mean, it is thrilling. Everybody can feel it. Everyone is just like, “Wow.” The slice of apple, and then that gleam of the knife, and the sound of the trashcan closing, and the maple tree outside, and the blue jay. I mean, it almost comes clanking into the room. And it’s just amazing.

Ms. Tippett:

In some basic level, what they’ve done is just engage with their senses.

Ms. Howe:

Yeah, and have been present out of their minds and just noticing what’s around them, which is — we don’t do. And again, not to compare it to anything. They’re not allowed. And that’s very hard for them. And then on the fifth or sixth week, I say, “OK, use metaphors.” And they don’t want to. They don’t know how. They’re like, “Why would I? Why would I compare that to anything when it’s itself?” Exactly. Good question.

So then you think, why the necessity of a metaphor? Why do you have to use a metaphor now? Not just to do it to avoid it, but to do it to make it more there. And it’s very interesting.

“The living look was grown in sea-water baths over several months within a specialised nutrient gel. In collaboration with Chris Bellamy, the Pyrocystis Lunula algae were moulded into an protective membrane then attentively cared for in conditions to mimic their natural marine home, with humidity, temperature, and circadian rhythm all tuned to their precise needs. The chamber in which the living look is nurtured becomes, therefore, a microcosm of the ocean’s delicate balancing point. Caring for the garment, and for the 125 million Pyrocystis Lunula it contains, requires a symbiotic relationship and redefines the creation traditions entirely, as the garment is cultivated rather than constructed.” 

looks reasonably secure, he’s probably not going anywhere. waterhouse always comes through. 10/10

Ulysses and the Sirens by Herbert James Draper

you’ve allowed too much freedom of movement for his sexy arms!!! he’s aboutta BUST through the ropes and join the choir invisible!!! but i do love the crewmate to the left with the king-wrangling job. i bet that’s eurylochus. 6/10

Odysseus and the Sirens by Alexander Bruckmann

they’re pretending to ask for advice on building wooden horses, and when he jumps overboard to mansplain, that little wristlet is not gonna stop him. 0/10

Ulysses and Sirens by Pablo Picasso

this ulysses is forever trapped in flatland. he will not jump overboard. he knows there is no true escape with the sirens, not really. 7/10

Ulysses and the Sirens by Léon Belly

in 3 minutes this mans is going to be dragging behind the boat like a jet ski. 1/10, there must have been a thought process at least

Odysseus and the sirens (stamnos, Greek artifact in the British museum)

rope to naked flesh ratio is so funny here but you can’t listen to the forbidden song of the sirens if you ain’t cute <3 9/10

The Sirens and Ulysses by William Etty

i’m sorry, i hate this. what?

fish women want him for his thick ass. only ropes around here are the ones he pulls in the gym. 0/10

Ulysses and the Sirens by Marie-François Firmin-Girard

The SS Warrimoo, a passenger steamship traveling from Vancouver to Australia, was silently knifing its way across the mid-Pacific waters. The navigator had just finished calculating a star fix and handed the results to Captain John DS. Phillips.

The Warrimoo's coordinates were LAT 0º 31' N, LONG 179 30' W. The date was December 31, 1899. "Know what this means?" First Mate Payton announced, "We're only a few miles from the intersection of the Equator and the International Date Line."

Captain Phillips was prankish enough to seize the opportunity to do the nautical feat of a lifetime. He summoned his navigators to the bridge to double-check the ship's position. He altered his course slightly to focus directly on his target. He then altered the engine's speed.

The calm weather and clear night worked to his advantage. At midnight, the SS Warrimoo rested on the Equator, exactly where it had crossed the International Date Line. The ramifications of this odd arrangement were numerous.

Except Tetris, the original version for the NES, is not a hypothetical. It's a physical object, an item you can touch and hold, and it has limits. Many classic arcade-style video games have honest-to-god killscreens, where the game breaks so badly that it becomes completely unplayable. Pac-Man, famously, has a killscreen that garbles half of the playing field and doesn't spawn enough dots for the level to ever end. Tetris was assumed to be no exception, but because of the presumed-impossible difficulty of level 29, the community considered that to be Tetris's killscreen, and all high-leveled Tetris play centered around level 29 being the absolute end of your run, no matter what.

But, and if you've heard literally anything about people getting insanely good at retro games, you'll know what comes next. Of course, someone figures out how to control the game past level 29. In 2011, Thor Aackerlund discovered a technique now known as "hypertapping" (which is exactly what it sounds like, tapping very very fast) - and became the first person to play level 30.

But hypertapping wasn't enough. It was still stupidly difficult to get to, let alone past, level 30. Then this guy named Cheez shows up and finds that using an even more absurd technique, called "Rolling", which was even faster than hypertapping. People weren't just hitting level 30, but then 40, then 50, and then all the way into the 90s. Since all post-29 levels have the exact same speed, once they mastered rolling, they were pretty much good to play forever.

With levels 29+ conquered, now players could face the real killscreen of Tetris. A Tetris-playing AI got the first crash, but since it was playing a very slightly modified version (to show a larger score number, because the vanilla score counter didn't have enough digits), it only kinda-sorted counted. So the community picked apart the game's code to find where the game could hypothetically crash while completely unmodified - and found the current human record was not that far off.

So the entire community fucking scrambles to be the first person to crash Tetris, but then were confounded by another technically-not-game-ending-but-still-pretty-much-impossible-for-a-human bug; after level 138, the game stops choosing the colors for the blocks from where it's supposed to, leading it to display some truly heinously color palettes. Most of them are just ugly, but a few make the blocks you're placing next to invisible. (This was actually known about before the AI even crashed the game, and part of the reason the AI could get so much further than humans; it didn't need to visually see the blocks.)

Just next to invisible, though. You could still sorta see most of the blocks, and when you pass the level, the game pulls a new color palette, so if you can tough it out long enough to get 10 lines, you're probably gonna be able to continue your game for a while after that. It's annoying as hell, but not impossible. So, of course, the runners start getting past them and brushing up against the crashable levels.

And by runners, I mostly mean a 13 year old boy who goes by the online handle Blue Scuti. He'd skyrocketed into fame in the Tetris community relatively recently by achieving scores and levels that most adults couldn't even dream of, so of course he was among the first people to get past both impossible-palette levels, and he was able to keep going.

The game doesn't always crash in one specific spot, though. It just starts having a chance to crash after a certain point. You might have to perform some specific actions in specific windows of time to get it to crash on purpose, and it's much more likely that you'll lose control and lose your run before you achieve that goal.

Blue Scuti missed the first crash opportunity in his run. He was the first person to get that far at all, so it'd be a record regardless, but he was determined to win. He somehow keeps his cool, despite being a literal child with thousands of eyes on him (this was streamed on Twitch, of course), and never loses control of his stack, all the way until he reaches the next crash opportunity all the way on level 157.

And he fucking does it. He gets a single line clear in the middle of level 157 and the game just stops. It completely crashed. A 13 year old boy nicknamed Blue Scuti is the first human being in history to crash Tetris in this way. He is the first person ever to see Tetris's real killscreen. This game is over twice his age, and he is the first to kill it dead.

This kid fucking rules.

(if you want more detail, I learned basically all of the above from this video by aGameScout, please watch it!!)