Remember when Mark Zuckerberg declared that the age of privacy was over?
Well, that was before he spent $100 million on 750 acres of Kauai North Shore plantation and beachfront, the majority of which will sit undeveloped in order to provide a buffer between his private retreat and the public who might want to pry into his life.
That’s in addition to the four houses he bought around his home in Silicon Valley, which sit empty, providing an exclusion zone that protects him against prying eyes.
Then there was the time he flipped out because his sister screwed up her (deliberately over-complicated and difficult-to-understand) Facebook privacy settings and shared a photo of a private family moment.
When Mark Zuckerberg (or Eric Schmidt) declares privacy to be dead, they’re not making an observation, they’re making a wish. What they mean is, “If your privacy was dead, I would be richer.”
The best use for Facebook is to teach people why they should leave Facebook.
Over the summer I spent a lot of time inside Google’s Tilt Brush, trying to find new techniques for drawing in room scale 3D. The result are several very psychedelic pieces (although I’m not 100% sure if a Tiltbrush sketch falls under the rubric of painting, sculpture or installation…), which you can see in this montage.
Enjoy!
“When I was a child my mother said, ‘If you become a soldier, you’ll be a general. If you become a monk, you’ll be the pope.’ Instead I became a painter and wound up as Picasso.”
For the rest of the earth’s organisms, existence is relatively uncomplicated. Their lives are about three things: survival, reproduction, death—and nothing else. But we know too much to content ourselves with surviving, reproducing, dying—and nothing else. We know we are alive and know we will die. We also know we will suffer during our lives before suffering—slowly or quickly—as we draw near to death. This is the knowledge we “enjoy” as the most intelligent organisms to gush from the womb of nature. And being so, we feel shortchanged if there is nothing else for us than to survive, reproduce, and die. We want there to be more to it than that, or to think there is. This is the tragedy: Consciousness has forced us into the paradoxical position of striving to be unself-conscious of what we are—hunks of spoiling flesh on disintegrating bones.
Thomas Ligotti, The Conspiracy Against the Human Race: A Contrivance of Horror (via metinseven)
