The Physics of Thumbnails

The square-cube ratio: when an object doubles in size, its surface area quadruples but its mass is multiplied by eight (oh, I was tempted to write “its mass octuples,” but that’d be a little much. Also, Firefox’s built-in dictionary doesn’t recognise “octuples”).

The square-cube ratio: when an object doubles in size, its surface area quadruples but its mass is multiplied by eight (oh, I was tempted to write “its mass octuples,” but that’d be a little much. Also, Firefox’s built-in dictionary doesn’t recognise “octuples”). And since a creature’s strength is proportional to the cross-section of its limbs, this explains why an ant can carry hundreds of times its own weight on its spindly little legs, a human can just about manage another human, and an elephant with its thick frame and stumpy legs can carry 25% its own weight. An elephant-sized human wouldn’t even be able to move.

So what’s the point? The rules don’t change when you get smaller or bigger, but how they manifest themselves does. This was brought home recently as I tweaked the thumbnails for VGVA.com‘s style switcher. The problem was to present the graphics, colour scheme, and overall look of each theme in a 20 x 20 space. Just shrinking the main graphics wasn’t enough. Details disappear, colours show up differently, even proportions can seem a little out of whack.

Consider the (newly finished) Christmas theme. That one was easy: I just took one of the snowflakes, shrunk it a bit, thickened the lines (otherwise they’d disappear), and then cropped it. Result: a pretty little thumbnail that does a good job of suggesting the whole while looking nice on its own. The tree wouldn’t have worked in a square space, and trying to show a whole snowflake would have meant (a) losing a lot of detail and (b) wasted space because those snowflakes are taller than they’re wide.

Second hardest: Red Fire. Deciding to go with just one shade of orange in the center part was easy, but then I fiddled a lot with the angle and granularity.

Biggest headache: Sunburst. Shrinking the sun graphic was no good: at that size it was just a shapeless smudge. Even worse: against the darker backgrounds I lost most of the contrast between the yellow and light blue. What to do? My first step was to thicken and darken the orange outline. That helped, a little, but the shape was still wrong. It was only a couple of days ago that I had my Eureka moment: stretch it out. The essence of the full-size graphic was in the shooting rays, so the thumbnail had to emphasize them. Also I lightened the yellow just a bit, to increase the contrast with the blue background. It felt a bit like cheating because I wanted to keep the colours the same, but the large sunburst had a white centre, so that was all right.

So, yeah. That is an interesting experience. I don’t know how many people this will interest, but I wanted to record this latest step in my quest to be a better Web designer.

Home Is Where The Art Is

For the Culture Crawl this year, I decided to do things a little differently. Instead of visiting just two buildings, I’d try to wander around, hit as many studios as I could and get a broader feel of the whole festival.

For the Culture Crawl this year, I decided to do things a little differently. Instead of visiting just two buildings, I’d try to wander around, hit as many studios as I could and get a broader feel of the whole festival.

The journey began Friday after work, at Main Street SkyTrain. I headed north up Station Street, briefly stopping to watch a drawing class—Crawlers were invited to join in, but I declined—and shoot a few photos of the neighbourhood. It’s not the prettiest, but I’d been meaning to try my hand at night photography, especially since a co-worker had invited me to his photography club (the latest meeting theme, as it happened? Night photography.) Unfortunately, I didn’t bring a tripod, so I had to improvise.

901 Main

My first major stop was 901 Main Street. What used to be sleeping quarters for BC Electric Railway motormen is now home to five floors of art (Favourite piece: Dick Stout’s Madonna of the Lake, and another painting probably by Dick Stout, which I forgot to identify because I was just mesmerised by it: a huge painting of a teenage girl on a pier reaching for seagull flying overhead, with an old lady (I think) fishing in the background, and a dog jumping over the pier. Then you take another look and realise everybody’s flying: the girl, the bird, the dog, even the fishing lady is hovering a few inches above the pier. It’s an indescribable feeling of joy, and freedom.)

Various newspaper clippings in the lobby told me of plans to convert the building into high-end apartments, and that many artists’ studios in and around Vancouver were threatened by gentrification and rising rents. One of the articles mentioned a petition to protect the building, which I was totally ready to sign. It turns out the article was a year old, so that was moot. However, I was told development plans are on hold for the moment. That’s good, at least.

Then I headed off into Strathcona. And I have to admit, it was a new experience for me. Hell, I’ve only ever driven through it a couple of times, along Prior; I usually take either First or Hastings to get to or from the boonies. And I’m sorry it took me so long, because it’s a lovely neighbourhood. The oldest residential neighbourhood in Vancouver, apparently, with a rich history and ethnic diversity and lots of heritage homes. Homes like Matthew Freed’s pottery studio on Jackson Avenue. I went through many other studios that night, ending with the Old Church. Most of them were either live-in studios or the artists’ private homes.

The Old Church

On Saturday I walked around Strathcona for a bit, visiting a couple more studios. By that time I was more interested in looking at the community and how the art (and artists) fit into it, than just the art by itself. I headed further north, into the Downtown Eastside to visit some studios on Railway St (favourite artist: Galen Felde). A few of them were also live/work areas, too. With a nice view of the trains and the harbour, if you like that sort of thing, though I can’t say much for the rest of the neighbourhood. Heading back into Strathcona, I was glad to leave behind all the signs warning drug users and dealers that their descriptions will be sent to the police. I toyed with the idea of heading even further east to check out the studios I’d seen last year… but it was late, I was tired and still getting over a cold, so I decided to cut it short. One last visit to 901 Main on the way back to the SkyTrain, and that was the end of my Crawl.

Barbed Wire

But it’s inspired me to nurture my own art, such as it is. Photography, and Web design, but also drawing, which I’ve been practicing on and off (mostly off) for the last few years. And it’s given me food for thought: how art and culture are not separate from life, or community, or skyrocketing rents. How Vancouver needs something like the Culture Crawl, even though I’ve been happily ignoring it 362 days out of the year so far. But if it were to go, if more artists are forced out of their studios, this city would be a much poorer place. And I need to find out if the West End has something like this.

East Side

Some photos I took last weekend at the East Side Culture Crawl. Only one of actual art, the rest are shots of Strathcona and the Downtown Eastside.

Some photos I took last weekend at the East Side Culture Crawl. Only one of actual art, the rest are shots of Strathcona and the Downtown Eastside. I’ve got more to write about the Crawl, but for now, enjoy these photos, as well as some early morning shots I took yesterday.

Peek

Granville Street Bridge

“After the flood all the colours came out…”

President-Elect Barack Obama. It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

President-Elect Barack Obama. It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

And I gotta say, McCain’s concession speech was pretty nice. Too bad it was marred by dickwads booing Obama’s name and shouting… stuff I couldn’t quite catch (probably just as well). McCain tried to shush them, but let’s face it, it’s too little too late. You ran your campaign on hate and paranoia and lies, you withered old gnome, and tried to foist a useless piece of fundie eye candy as VP just to energise your base, you don’t get to take the moral high ground now.

In contrast with the lily-white faces in McCain’s audience, the crowd listening to Obama’s acceptance speech in Chicago ran the full spectrum of skin tones, young and old (a lot of young people, actually); I saw at least one rainbow flag. That’s what the future looks like: people for whom race, gender and sexuality are just not that big a deal. It boggles the mind that this is the same America that voted for Bush twice (and before that, for the elder Bush, and Reagan), but I guess Leonard Cohen was right when he called America “The cradle of the best and of the worst”. Let’s hope this really marks a turning point in the nation’s history. But I couldn’t think of a better President to usher in this new age.

Lost Souls

Boy, I hadn’t been to the Parade of Lost Souls in years! Sorry to say, I almost forgot about it. But no more!

Boy, I hadn’t been to the Parade of Lost Souls in years! Sorry to say, I almost forgot about it. But no more!

Sally and Jack Skellington

It’s changed, though, I think. Oh, some things were the same: all the excellent costumes of robots and ghosts and vampires, a Blackberry, the cast of Futurama (Fry, Zoidberg, Leela and Farnsworth), the black & white spies from Mad magazine, at least one Sarah Palin, a headline announcing John McCain’s victory (shriek!!!), the aroma of wacky tobacky in the air, glow sticks and those little plastic flashing antennas (I’ve actually got a pair of those, too, but I forgot them. Maybe it’s just as well, they’re really uncomfortable).

But… there wasn’t any actual parade. Or maybe we missed it? That was pretty disappointing to me. Years ago, I loved how the whole neighbourhood got in the game, individual houses or apartments staging their own little monster plays as the Parade passed by. It wasn’t just a few people putting on a show, it was a whole community event. And then, at Britannia High School, there’d be huge shadow puppets and fireworks and the spooky, otherworldly festival.

Celebrate Life

Still, Grandview Park hosted the festival, with shrines to the dead and the lost. That’s an important part of the event, too. Hallowe’en isn’t just about trick-or-treating, it’s a time when the veil between the worlds is thin. And, hard-nosed atheist though I am, it’s a time I allow myself just a little bit of spirituality…

Boo!

I am unbreakable

Following up on my last post: after two weeks, my scrapes and bruises are healing nicely. Some deep bruising in my side and lower back is still bothering me, though only in the morning when I get up. And even then, I only go “Ow!” instead of “OWOWOW MOTHERF***** OW!” like I used to do for a few days after the accident. So it’s all good.

Following up on my last post: after two weeks, my scrapes and bruises are healing nicely. Some deep bruising in my side and lower back is still bothering me, though only in the morning when I get up. And even then, I only go “Ow!” instead of “OWOWOW MOTHERF***** OW!” like I used to do for a few days after the accident. So it’s all good.

But here’s the best news: my wrist isn’t broken after all! I had it re-x-rayed this week, and saw a doctor yesterday to confirm: no sign of a fracture, it’s just a sprain. Yay! No spending months in a cast! I’m not out of the woods yet, though. Gotta work to recover my strength and flexibility. Hell, after just two weeks in that splint, my wrist and forearm were noticeably skinnier–and I’m no Mr. Universe to begin with. But the doctor said those squeezy stress-relieving balls are excellent for building up strength, and I just happen to have a couple lying around. At this rate, I should be back playing volleyball in a few weeks.

Yes, this has been a painful and inconvenient interval, but there’s been no permanent damage. This too shall pass.

Getting a little too close to nature

So this weekend some friends and I went up to Whistler for an ATV guided tour. I’d never gone ATVing before, but it sounded like fun, right? Broaden my horizons, that’s what I say. It worked pretty well with the zip-lining.

So this weekend some friends and I went up to Whistler for an ATV guided tour. I’d never gone ATVing before, but it sounded like fun, right? Broaden my horizons, that’s what I say. It worked pretty well with the zip-lining.

I didn’t mind that the weekend turned out cold and rainy. I had the right gear, and they provided extra stuff like waterproof pants and goggles (for the mud). Was a little shaky on the controls, but with help from the hot French-Canadian guide, I was getting the hang of it. Turns were still a bit tricky, but I enjoyed the feel of cold mud and rain on me, and the loud, throbbing engine between my legs. Heh.

My ATV dashboard

Then, halfway up the mountain, I lost control of my ATV and drove off the road.

The next few seconds were kind of a blur, to be honest. There was tumbling… and noise… and then I was looking up at the sky, rain in my face, and people were calling my name, asking if I was okay. Was I okay? My right wrist hurt like a bitch, various other body parts were sending damage reports, but nothing critical. I answered (hey, my voice was okay) and the guide yelled at me not to move. Check, not moving.

Looking around, I was about ten feet below the road. Oh, and there was the ATV, upside down and facing backward. Huh. Good thing I’d bailed out like the guides said to do if we lost control, otherwise I’d probably be posting this through a Ouija board.

So the hot French-Canadian guide came down and checked me out. No, not that way, you pervs. Neck was fine, back was fine, yes I could move my toes. Nothing seemed broken except maybe my wrist. My vision was getting cloudy, which in a way was kind of cool: just that morning we’d watched “Enzo the Smart” (you know, the ReBoot episode where everything turns 8-bit?) And it was just like that, all in shades of blue and green. Mind you, in a way it wasn’t so cool, because I was afraid I’d pass out or my brain got bonked even through my helmet.

My left shoulder, side and leg, and lower back muscles were seriously sore, but with a bit of help I walked back up to the road. They say any accident you can walk away from is a good one, right? So we waited for the van to take me down to the health centre. Sandra offered to stay with me, but I told her she didn’t have to do that. I felt (mostly) fine, and also guilty of ruining my friends’ good time with my carelessness.

At one point my vision got seriously worse, and I had to sit down. Don’t know why I’d kept standing that whole time—maybe to prove I was really okay? But as soon as I sat, my head cleared and I could see again. I guess it was just shock, my brain was okay after all.

On the way back to town, we saw a black bear by the side of the road, so Todd the hunky guide (seriously, where do they find these guys?) stopped so I could take a picture.

A black bear

It was a healthy specimen, said Todd, with a good thick coat. A bit later, we saw a cub by itself. No pictures, sorry.

At the health centre (warm at last!) my wrist hurt too much, so I had to have the nurse help me take my pants off. What a revoltin’ development this was!

Okay, so, final verdict: ribs, not broken. Wrist, either a sprain or a scaphoid fracture. Apparently they’re hard to diagnose even with X-rays, so I’m wearing a splint for now. Which… is taking a bit of adjusting, and that’s putting it mildly. Not to complain, lucky to be alive and all that, but going without my dominant hand is a huge pain in the ass. See, I typed that “in ht eass” at first. Even dressing myself one-and-a-half-handed is fucking hard, and I may have to keep doing it for 2 months or more. Bleah. Well, this too shall pass, and I’ve learned my lesson: no more Xtreme sportz for this little lame duck

This is the scariest trailer I’ve ever seen

So first Matt Damon said this:

It’s like a really bad Disney movie. The Hockey Mom. “Oh, I’m just a hockey mom from Alaska,” and she’s facing down Vladimir Putin using the folksy stuff she learned at the hockey rink. It’s absurd. It’s totally absurd, and I don’t understand why more people aren’t talking about how absurd it is. […] I need to know if she really thinks dinosaurs were here 4,000 years ago.

So first Matt Damon said this:

It’s like a really bad Disney movie. The Hockey Mom. “Oh, I’m just a hockey mom from Alaska,” and she’s facing down Vladimir Putin using the folksy stuff she learned at the hockey rink. It’s absurd. It’s totally absurd, and I don’t understand why more people aren’t talking about how absurd it is. […] I need to know if she really thinks dinosaurs were here 4,000 years ago.

And then some twisted genius actually went ahead and made that movie (okay, just the trailer).

Memo to Matt: what we’ve learned for sure about Palin in the last 2 weeks is that even aside from the rabidly anti-abortion stance and book burning and ethics scandals, she’s stunningly ignorant and unfit for the vice-presidency. That under a veneer of folksy charm she’s a mean bitch of a woman—though hey, she fits in well with Gramps McCranky there. And her base does appreciate it.

And if McCain does not tone down the contempt, it will simply feed the narrative. Or, if we are really lucky, as someone suggested in another thread, McCain will overcompensate and spend the entire time comically and creepily attempting to make eye contact with Obama (think Al Gore walking across the stage to stand next to Bush, and Bush looking at him as if to think “WTF are you doing?”).

This should be terrifying for the McCain campaign for two reasons. First, the base will not understand it. To them, a sneering, contemptuous jerk is a feature, not a bug. When they try to tone down McCain, it will turn off the diehards. Look at the reaction of the base to Palin’s RNC speech- they LOVED that she was, for all intents and purposes, nothing but an asshole the entire speech. They loved the “zingers” that were written for her. The rest of the country recoiled in horror, and Obama raised ten million the next 48 hours.

(Emphasis mine, and it’s my favourite line)

Has the Large Hadron Collider destroyed the world yet?

Let’s check…

Not that doomsday crackpots haven’t tried to stir up fear of black holes swallowing the Earth, and whatnot.

Let’s check…

Not that doomsday crackpots haven’t tried to stir up fear of black holes swallowing the Earth and whatnot. Here’s what the scientists actually expect to find.

And because the world needs more cute nerds putting high-energy particle physics to music, I present you with…