Imagine being able to create a lifelike hologram of yourself able to speak any language, and not only speak it but do so with your own voice inflections. Imagine if this hologram could be anywhere on earth, with or without you . . .
Saturday, August 17, 2019
Can't speak Japanese? Your hologram could.
This, my friends, will blow your mind.
Imagine being able to create a lifelike hologram of yourself able to speak any language, and not only speak it but do so with your own voice inflections. Imagine if this hologram could be anywhere on earth, with or without you . . .
Imagine being able to create a lifelike hologram of yourself able to speak any language, and not only speak it but do so with your own voice inflections. Imagine if this hologram could be anywhere on earth, with or without you . . .
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
Riley--Newspaper Correspondent by Mark Twain
One of the best men in Washington—or elsewhere—is RILEY, correspondent of one of the great San Francisco dailies.
Riley is full of humor, and has an unfailing vein of irony, which makes his conversation to the last degree entertaining (as long as the remarks are about somebody else). But notwithstanding the possession of these qualities, which should enable a man to write a happy and an appetizing letter, Riley's newspaper letters often display a more than earthly solemnity, and likewise an unimaginative devotion to petrified facts, which surprise and distress all men who know him in his unofficial character. He explains this curious thing by saying that his employers sent him to Washington to write facts, not fancy, and that several times he has come near losing his situation by inserting humorous remarks which, not being looked for at headquarters, and consequently not understood, were thought to be dark and bloody speeches intended to convey signals and warnings to murderous secret societies, or something of that kind, and so were scratched out with a shiver and a prayer and cast into the stove.
Riley says that sometimes he is so afflicted with a yearning to write a sparkling and absorbingly readable letter that he simply cannot resist it, and so he goes to his den and revels in the delight of untrammeled scribbling; and then, with suffering such as only a mother can know, he destroys the pretty children of his fancy and reduces his letter to the required dismal accuracy. Having seen Riley do this very thing more than once, I know whereof I speak. Often I have laughed with him over a happy passage, and grieved to see him plow his pen through it. He would say, "I had to write that or die; and I've got to scratch it out or starve. They wouldn't stand it, you know."
I think Riley is about the most entertaining company I ever saw. We lodged together in many places in Washington during the winter of '67-8, moving comfortably from place to place, and attracting attention by paying our board—a course which cannot fail to make a person conspicuous in Washington. Riley would tell all about his trip to California in the early days, by way of the Isthmus and the San Juan River; and about his baking bread in San Francisco to gain a living, and setting up tenpins, and practising law, and opening oysters, and delivering lectures, and teaching French, and tending bar, and reporting for the newspapers, and keeping dancing-schools, and interpreting Chinese in the courts—which latter was lucrative, and Riley was doing handsomely and laying up a little money when people began to find fault because his translations were too "free," a thing for which Riley considered he ought not to be held responsible, since he did not know a word of the Chinese tongue, and only adopted interpreting as a means of gaining an honest livelihood.
Through the machinations of enemies he was removed from the position of official interpreter, and a man put in his place who was familiar with the Chinese language, but did not know any English. And Riley used to tell about publishing a newspaper up in what is Alaska now, but was only an iceberg then, with a population composed of bears, walruses, Indians, and other animals; and how the iceberg got adrift at last, and left all his paying subscribers behind, and as soon as the commonwealth floated out of the jurisdiction of Russia the people rose and threw off their allegiance and ran up the English flag, calculating to hook on and become an English colony as they drifted along down the British Possessions; but a land breeze and a crooked current carried them by, and they ran up the Stars and Stripes and steered for California, missed the connection again and swore allegiance to Mexico, but it wasn't any use; the anchors came home every time, and away they went with the northeast trades drifting off sideways toward the Sandwich Islands, whereupon they ran up the Cannibal flag and had a grand human barbecue in honor of it, in which it was noticed that the better a man liked a friend the better he enjoyed him; and as soon as they got fairly within the tropics the weather got so fearfully hot that the iceberg began to melt, and it got so sloppy under foot that it was almost impossible for ladies to get about at all; and at last, just as they came in sight of the islands, the melancholy remnant of the once majestic iceberg canted first to one side and then to the other, and then plunged under forever, carrying the national archives along with it—and not only the archives and the populace, but some eligible town lots which had increased in value as fast as they diminished in size in the tropics, and which Riley could have sold at thirty cents a pound and made himself rich if he could have kept the province afloat ten hours longer and got her into port.
Riley is very methodical, untiringly accommodating, never forgets anything that is to be attended to, is a good son, a stanch friend, and a permanent reliable enemy. He will put himself to any amount of trouble to oblige a body, and therefore always has his hands full of things to be done for the helpless and the shiftless. And he knows how to do nearly everything, too. He is a man whose native benevolence is a well-spring that never goes dry. He stands always ready to help whoever needs help, as far as he is able—and not simply with his money, for that is a cheap and common charity, but with hand and brain, and fatigue of limb and sacrifice of time. This sort of men is rare.
Riley has a ready wit, a quickness and aptness at selecting and applying quotations, and a countenance that is as solemn and as blank as the back side of a tombstone when he is delivering a particularly exasperating joke. One night a negro woman was burned to death in a house next door to us, and Riley said that our landlady would be oppressively emotional at breakfast, because she generally made use of such opportunities as offered, being of a morbidly sentimental turn, and so we should find it best to let her talk along and say nothing back—it was the only way to keep her tears out of the gravy. Riley said there never was a funeral in the neighborhood but that the gravy was watery for a week.
And, sure enough, at breakfast the landlady was down in the very sloughs of woe—entirely brokenhearted. Everything she looked at reminded her of that poor old negro woman, and so the buckwheat cakes made her sob, the coffee forced a groan, and when the beefsteak came on she fetched a wail that made our hair rise. Then she got to talking about deceased, and kept up a steady drizzle till both of us were soaked through and through. Presently she took a fresh breath and said, with a world of sobs:
"Ah, to think of it, only to think of it!—the poor old faithful creature. For she was so faithful. Would you believe it, she had been a servant in that selfsame house and that selfsame family for twenty seven years come Christmas, and never a cross word and never a lick! And, oh, to think she should meet such a death at last!—a-sitting over the red hot stove at three o'clock in the morning and went to sleep and fell on it and was actually roasted! Not just frizzled up a bit, but literally roasted to a crisp! Poor faithful creature, how she was cooked! I am but a poor woman, but even if I have to scrimp to do it, I will put up a tombstone over that lone sufferer's grave—and Mr. Riley if you would have the goodness to think up a little epitaph to put on it which would sort of describe the awful way in which she met her—"
"Put it, 'Well done, good and faithful servant,'" said Riley, and never smiled.
-- Twain, Mark. The Complete Mark Twain: Novels, Short Stories, Essays, Letters, Humor, Non-Fiction, Travel and Speeches . Bybliotech. Kindle Edition.
Riley is full of humor, and has an unfailing vein of irony, which makes his conversation to the last degree entertaining (as long as the remarks are about somebody else). But notwithstanding the possession of these qualities, which should enable a man to write a happy and an appetizing letter, Riley's newspaper letters often display a more than earthly solemnity, and likewise an unimaginative devotion to petrified facts, which surprise and distress all men who know him in his unofficial character. He explains this curious thing by saying that his employers sent him to Washington to write facts, not fancy, and that several times he has come near losing his situation by inserting humorous remarks which, not being looked for at headquarters, and consequently not understood, were thought to be dark and bloody speeches intended to convey signals and warnings to murderous secret societies, or something of that kind, and so were scratched out with a shiver and a prayer and cast into the stove.
Riley says that sometimes he is so afflicted with a yearning to write a sparkling and absorbingly readable letter that he simply cannot resist it, and so he goes to his den and revels in the delight of untrammeled scribbling; and then, with suffering such as only a mother can know, he destroys the pretty children of his fancy and reduces his letter to the required dismal accuracy. Having seen Riley do this very thing more than once, I know whereof I speak. Often I have laughed with him over a happy passage, and grieved to see him plow his pen through it. He would say, "I had to write that or die; and I've got to scratch it out or starve. They wouldn't stand it, you know."
I think Riley is about the most entertaining company I ever saw. We lodged together in many places in Washington during the winter of '67-8, moving comfortably from place to place, and attracting attention by paying our board—a course which cannot fail to make a person conspicuous in Washington. Riley would tell all about his trip to California in the early days, by way of the Isthmus and the San Juan River; and about his baking bread in San Francisco to gain a living, and setting up tenpins, and practising law, and opening oysters, and delivering lectures, and teaching French, and tending bar, and reporting for the newspapers, and keeping dancing-schools, and interpreting Chinese in the courts—which latter was lucrative, and Riley was doing handsomely and laying up a little money when people began to find fault because his translations were too "free," a thing for which Riley considered he ought not to be held responsible, since he did not know a word of the Chinese tongue, and only adopted interpreting as a means of gaining an honest livelihood.
Through the machinations of enemies he was removed from the position of official interpreter, and a man put in his place who was familiar with the Chinese language, but did not know any English. And Riley used to tell about publishing a newspaper up in what is Alaska now, but was only an iceberg then, with a population composed of bears, walruses, Indians, and other animals; and how the iceberg got adrift at last, and left all his paying subscribers behind, and as soon as the commonwealth floated out of the jurisdiction of Russia the people rose and threw off their allegiance and ran up the English flag, calculating to hook on and become an English colony as they drifted along down the British Possessions; but a land breeze and a crooked current carried them by, and they ran up the Stars and Stripes and steered for California, missed the connection again and swore allegiance to Mexico, but it wasn't any use; the anchors came home every time, and away they went with the northeast trades drifting off sideways toward the Sandwich Islands, whereupon they ran up the Cannibal flag and had a grand human barbecue in honor of it, in which it was noticed that the better a man liked a friend the better he enjoyed him; and as soon as they got fairly within the tropics the weather got so fearfully hot that the iceberg began to melt, and it got so sloppy under foot that it was almost impossible for ladies to get about at all; and at last, just as they came in sight of the islands, the melancholy remnant of the once majestic iceberg canted first to one side and then to the other, and then plunged under forever, carrying the national archives along with it—and not only the archives and the populace, but some eligible town lots which had increased in value as fast as they diminished in size in the tropics, and which Riley could have sold at thirty cents a pound and made himself rich if he could have kept the province afloat ten hours longer and got her into port.
Riley is very methodical, untiringly accommodating, never forgets anything that is to be attended to, is a good son, a stanch friend, and a permanent reliable enemy. He will put himself to any amount of trouble to oblige a body, and therefore always has his hands full of things to be done for the helpless and the shiftless. And he knows how to do nearly everything, too. He is a man whose native benevolence is a well-spring that never goes dry. He stands always ready to help whoever needs help, as far as he is able—and not simply with his money, for that is a cheap and common charity, but with hand and brain, and fatigue of limb and sacrifice of time. This sort of men is rare.
Riley has a ready wit, a quickness and aptness at selecting and applying quotations, and a countenance that is as solemn and as blank as the back side of a tombstone when he is delivering a particularly exasperating joke. One night a negro woman was burned to death in a house next door to us, and Riley said that our landlady would be oppressively emotional at breakfast, because she generally made use of such opportunities as offered, being of a morbidly sentimental turn, and so we should find it best to let her talk along and say nothing back—it was the only way to keep her tears out of the gravy. Riley said there never was a funeral in the neighborhood but that the gravy was watery for a week.
And, sure enough, at breakfast the landlady was down in the very sloughs of woe—entirely brokenhearted. Everything she looked at reminded her of that poor old negro woman, and so the buckwheat cakes made her sob, the coffee forced a groan, and when the beefsteak came on she fetched a wail that made our hair rise. Then she got to talking about deceased, and kept up a steady drizzle till both of us were soaked through and through. Presently she took a fresh breath and said, with a world of sobs:
"Ah, to think of it, only to think of it!—the poor old faithful creature. For she was so faithful. Would you believe it, she had been a servant in that selfsame house and that selfsame family for twenty seven years come Christmas, and never a cross word and never a lick! And, oh, to think she should meet such a death at last!—a-sitting over the red hot stove at three o'clock in the morning and went to sleep and fell on it and was actually roasted! Not just frizzled up a bit, but literally roasted to a crisp! Poor faithful creature, how she was cooked! I am but a poor woman, but even if I have to scrimp to do it, I will put up a tombstone over that lone sufferer's grave—and Mr. Riley if you would have the goodness to think up a little epitaph to put on it which would sort of describe the awful way in which she met her—"
"Put it, 'Well done, good and faithful servant,'" said Riley, and never smiled.
-- Twain, Mark. The Complete Mark Twain: Novels, Short Stories, Essays, Letters, Humor, Non-Fiction, Travel and Speeches . Bybliotech. Kindle Edition.
Saturday, February 2, 2019
Professor Jordan Peterson on climate change
It's refreshing to hear an intelligent voice speak on this subject.
Saturday, August 18, 2018
Yuja Wang does Mozart
The following recital excerpt was downloaded from this YouTube channel. For the full 20-minute recital visit the original post.
Yuja Wang's talent is so great I'm tempted to believe she's from another planet. I hope you enjoy this brief performance.
Yuja Wang's talent is so great I'm tempted to believe she's from another planet. I hope you enjoy this brief performance.
Sunday, April 1, 2018
Monday, March 19, 2018
Christopher Reeve
The following is extracted from Wikipedia. Reeve's life is an inspiration, as well as a tragedy.
Actor Christopher Reeve was born on September 25, 1952.
Actor Christopher Reeve was born on September 25, 1952.
He was no dummy. When he applied to college “he was accepted into Brown, Carnegie Mellon, Columbia, Cornell, Northwestern, and Princeton.” He chose Cornell, got into acting, and became a movie star — a 6’4” movie star.
For his senior year he transferred to Julliard. Two thousand students applied for 20 positions, but Julliard only took two — Reeve and Robin Williams. After completing his first year at Julliard he graduated from Cornell in 1974.
During his first stint as a professional actor he ate candy bars and drank coffee instead of healthy meals. It took its toll. He was cast for the Broadway play A Matter of Gravity and on opening night uttered his first line, then "promptly fainted.”
Things improved after that. After the success of Superman and other films, he turned down lead roles in "American Gigolo, The World According to Garp, Splash, Fatal Attraction, Pretty Woman, Romancing the Stone, Lethal Weapon, and Body Heat.”
In 1985 he started horse riding, and eventually entered competitions. On May 27, 1995 he entered a competition in Culpeper, Virginia that included a number of jumps. One of them was a routine three-foot fence shaped like the letter W.
His skull and spine were disconnected, and Reeve seriously considered suicide. In the depths of his depression his friend Robin Williams showed up and got him laughing.Witnesses said that the horse began the third fence jump and suddenly stopped. Reeve fell forward off the horse, holding on to the reins. His hands somehow became tangled in the reins, and the bridle and bit were pulled off the horse. He landed head first on the far side of the fence, shattering his first and second vertebrae. This cervical spinal injury, which paralyzed him from the neck down, also halted his breathing. Paramedics arrived three minutes later and immediately took measures to get air into his lungs. He was taken first to the local hospital, before being flown by helicopter to the University of Virginia Medical Center. Afterwards, he had no recollection of the accident.
During the period of paralysis, Reeve continued to write, direct, and act. He even made guest appearances on Sesame Street. He became an activist for research in spinal cord injuries.
He suffered from asthma and allergies all his life. He also had severe drug reactions, one of which stopped his heart. In early October, 2004 Reeve was being treated for sepsis,
a complication he had experienced many times before. On October 4, he spoke at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago on behalf of the Institute's work. This was to be his last reported public appearance. On October 9, Reeve felt well and attended his son Will's hockey game. That night, he went into cardiac arrest after receiving an antibiotic for the infection. He fell into a coma and was taken to Northern Westchester Hospital in Mount Kisco, New York. Eighteen hours later, on October 10, 2004, Reeve died, aged 52. His doctor, John McDonald, believed an adverse reaction to the antibiotic caused Reeve's death.
His widow, Dana Reeve, headed the Christopher Reeve Foundation after his death. She was diagnosed with lung cancer on August 9, 2005 and died, aged 44, on March 6, 2006.
They are survived by their children and their fathers.
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
UGA winning TD in 2018 Rose Bowl
Both teams played tough to the end. Georgia played a little better.
Monday, December 11, 2017
Friday, December 1, 2017
Isaac Asimov on an education revolution
This Bill Moyers interview happened in 1988, before Time Berners-Lee invented the World Wide Web.
Isaac Asimov on an education revolution
Isaac Asimov on an education revolution
Monday, November 20, 2017
How to really sell a used car
According to Bill Myers this commercial was created by just "one guy with a phone mounted on a 3 axis gimbal and a drone."
Used Car Commercial // 1996 Honda Accord
Yet, on the YouTube site it says this:
Below is a picture of the principal creator of the commercial, Max Lanman, and his fiancé, Carrie Hollenbeck. (source)
Although Carrie owned the 149,095-mile Accord, Anne Marie Avey drove the car in the commercial, for the most part. (below)
Used Car Commercial // 1996 Honda Accord
Yet, on the YouTube site it says this:
Written and Directed by Max Lanman
Cinematography by Christopher Ripley
Produced by Max Lanman & Christopher Ripley
Starring Anne Marie Avey
Voiceover by Matt Pratt
Featuring Papa Puff Pants
Additional Stunt Driving by Carrie
Original Score by Andrew Johnson
Sound Designed and Mixed by Colin Heath
Drone Piloting, Foley Recording, Editing, and Motion Graphics by Max Lanman
Color by Christopher Ripley
I'd like to send a special thanks to Burg for helping me record additional foley, Kelly and Chris for all the time you babysat and re-parked Greenie when we were out of town, Canon for helping out on the principal shoot day, and Brian for lending your handwriting to this.
Finally, a huge thanks to Carrie for letting me do this, even though it took me a lot longer than I had planned.
Thanks for watching!
- Max
P.S. Read the fine print!Whatever the above means, it suggests it was not a one-man show.
Below is a picture of the principal creator of the commercial, Max Lanman, and his fiancé, Carrie Hollenbeck. (source)
If Ann Marie is not a professional actress she could be.
Finally, here is what CNBC said about the commercial:
"The idea came to me when I was driving the very stretch of highway that you see in the commercial," Lanman, the writer and director behind the project, tells CNBC Make It. He's the founder of a creativity agency based out of Los Angeles, Calif., called, LEÃO, which makes ads, virtual reality and branded content for companies like Microsoft and Häagen-Dazs.
"It just dawned on me that making a high-end car commercial for a really crappy car might be funny, and Carrie fortunately had just the car for the job."
Carrie Hollenbeck, now Lanman's fiancée, is not the actress in the video. That's their friend, Anne Marie Avey. "Carrie's a little bit camera shy so she didn't want to be the main character," says Lanman. But she was the stunt driver for the aerial shots that Lanman took with his drone, a DJI Phantom 3 Professional.
He also used his own SONY A7S2 camera. In fact, except for a pickup truck he rented out to shoot some of the footage, Lanman says he did the entire project with his own equipment and with his own friends. The other cameraman is his buddy Christopher Ripley. The video's narrator with the born-for-radio voice is his neighbor, Matt Pratt. And the cat, Papa Puff Pants, belongs to Avey.
The commercial hardly cost them a thing.
Lanman acknowledges that they put in 200-some hours over the course of a year. And 200 hours might seem like a lot of effort to sell a car with a Kelly Blue Book value of $1,500.
Still, he says, "the experience of doing it was just a blast. That was our M.O. from the beginning. If we have fun making this, then it will be worth it."
The Sony a7S II Lanman used is a full-frame E-mount camera that shoots 4K video. From what I've seen a high-end smartphone could do a comparable job for shooting a commercial like this.
Bill Myers mentioned a 3-axis gimbal. Gimbals come in many prices, but here's one that's inexpensive: The Zhiyun Smooth-Q 3 Axis Handheld Gimbal for Smartphones Up to 6". $139 Prime at Amazon.
What is a gimbal? Here's the Wikipedia answer:
Handheld 3-axis gimbals are used in stabilization systems designed to give the camera operator the independence of handheld shooting without camera vibration or shake. Powered by three brushless motors, the gimbals have the ability to keep the camera level on all axes as the camera operator moves the camera. An inertial measurement unit (IMU) responds to movement and utilizes its three separate motors to stabilize the camera.
With the guidance of algorithms, the stabilizer is able to notice the difference between deliberate movement such as pans and tracking shots from unwanted shake. This allows the camera to seem as if it is floating through the air, an effect achieved by a Steadicam in the past. Not limited to handheld shooting, gimbals can be mounted to cars and other vehicles such as drones, where vibrations or other unexpected movements would make tripods or other camera mounts unacceptable.The DJI Phantom 3 Professional Quadcopter 4K UHD Video Camera Drone Lanman used gets high marks from customers for its quality, but absolutely devastating comments regarding the company's customer service.
Flatearther plans to launch
This caught my attention. I liked Astronaut Farmer and thought this might be something similar in real life.
"Self-taught rocket scientist plans to launch over ghost town"
The launch is scheduled for this Saturday.
"This will actually be the second time ['Mad' Mike Hughes has] constructed and launched a rocket. He jumped on a private property in Winkelman, Arizona, on Jan. 30, 2014 , and traveled 1,374 feet. He collapsed after that landing — the G-forces taking a toll — and needed three days to recover.
"That distance, though, would've been enough to clear the Snake River Canyon, which is a jump daredevil Evel Knievel made famous when he failed to clear it during his attempt in 1974."
So far, so good.
"Here's the thing: Hughes doesn't make all that much money — $15 per hour as a limo driver, plus tips. That's why he's scrounged for parts, finding the aluminum for his rocket in metal shops and constructing the rocket nozzle out of an aircraft air filter. He gave it a good varnish of cheap paint, and his launch pad is attached to a motor home he bought for $1,500."
"The location of the jump will be Amboy , a ghost town in the Mojave Desert and along historic Route 66. The fictional town of Radiator Springs in the Disney movie Cars was loosely based on Amboy."
"On the morning of the launch, Hughes will heat about 70 gallons of water in a stainless steel tank and then blast off between 2 p.m. and 3 p.m. He plans to go about a mile — reaching an altitude of about 1,800 feet — before pulling two parachutes. They're discouraging fans — safety issues — but it will be televised on his YouTube channel . He said he's been in contact with the Federal Aviation Administration and the Bureau of Land Management.
"Following his jump, he said he's going to announce his plans to leap into the race for governor of California.
"No joke."
If Mad Mike succeeds he might make a decent governor. He knows how to stretch a dollar, he's got guts, and he "believes what he believes," meaning, I suppose, he's an independent thinker, including the view that the earth is really flat. That last part is disconcerting but could he be any worse than the current governor?
"Self-taught rocket scientist plans to launch over ghost town"
The launch is scheduled for this Saturday.
"This will actually be the second time ['Mad' Mike Hughes has] constructed and launched a rocket. He jumped on a private property in Winkelman, Arizona, on Jan. 30, 2014 , and traveled 1,374 feet. He collapsed after that landing — the G-forces taking a toll — and needed three days to recover.
"That distance, though, would've been enough to clear the Snake River Canyon, which is a jump daredevil Evel Knievel made famous when he failed to clear it during his attempt in 1974."
So far, so good.
"Here's the thing: Hughes doesn't make all that much money — $15 per hour as a limo driver, plus tips. That's why he's scrounged for parts, finding the aluminum for his rocket in metal shops and constructing the rocket nozzle out of an aircraft air filter. He gave it a good varnish of cheap paint, and his launch pad is attached to a motor home he bought for $1,500."
"The location of the jump will be Amboy , a ghost town in the Mojave Desert and along historic Route 66. The fictional town of Radiator Springs in the Disney movie Cars was loosely based on Amboy."
"On the morning of the launch, Hughes will heat about 70 gallons of water in a stainless steel tank and then blast off between 2 p.m. and 3 p.m. He plans to go about a mile — reaching an altitude of about 1,800 feet — before pulling two parachutes. They're discouraging fans — safety issues — but it will be televised on his YouTube channel . He said he's been in contact with the Federal Aviation Administration and the Bureau of Land Management.
"Following his jump, he said he's going to announce his plans to leap into the race for governor of California.
"No joke."
If Mad Mike succeeds he might make a decent governor. He knows how to stretch a dollar, he's got guts, and he "believes what he believes," meaning, I suppose, he's an independent thinker, including the view that the earth is really flat. That last part is disconcerting but could he be any worse than the current governor?
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