Interconnected

Here is a brilliant isometric map of Hong Kong.

A topographic map of Venus.

A gallery of the new London 2012 Olympic velodrome. It's vast and modernist, but warm: cathedral caverns and concrete angles, both dull and glossy, with highly textured detail from wood and punched brushed metal. Unafraid of repetition. Oranges, browns, greys and dull blues. Matt Brown at work calls it a New British Modern, and I see that. It's definitely not New York art vinyl or Japanese pop. There are elements of Scandinavian design, but just as much of British municipality and of functional authenticity. Barbican but 21st century. Anyway, good pics. There's mileage in this NBM I think.

Five emotions invented by the internet, including: The state of being 'installed' at a computer or laptop for an extended period of time without purpose, characterized by a blurry, formless anxiety undercut with something hard like desperation, and The sense of fatigue and disconnect one experiences after emitting a massive stream of content only to hit some kind of ‘wall’ and forget and/or abandon the entire thing. Yeah. It's funny because it's true.

I wonder: I can fatigue very particular muscles. Climbing stairs, those muscles get tired. Weights, etc. It's possible to have very tired biceps but find it easy to run. Tiredness is a bodily located phenomenon. And so: is it possible to fatigue bits of my mind? Does my super-ego get worn out from filtering my behaviour? Can I run out of the neurotransmitter responsible for saying three syllable words? Or whatever. Does my hypothalamus get out of puff? Does my visual cortex get worn out identifying horizontal edges?

Today my linearity gland is pooped.

First watch Such Great Heights, the Postal Service. Pretty electronica. And now Ben Fold's live percussion version. Is lovely.