Here’s some video of us recording the dialogue for Episode 2 of Your Face is a Saxophone. We got about 90% finished that day — Raye Gestwick was ill and couldn’t make it, so we’re recording her lines at a later date.
Plankhead members will get access to all of the footage we shot that day soon enough.
Music used in this video by Distemper.
My latest article for Falkvinge on Infopolicy is a reflection on the recent antics of LulzSec and other “whimsical” hackers:
I don’t like having my personal data taken by the “Bad Guys”, no more than anyone. When the infamous Sony Playstation Network hack took place in April, I was among the angry and upset, fearful that my credit card number would be popping up in every blackhat IRC channel out there. But it wasn’t the hackers with whom I was angry. And now, as the exploits of Lulz Security make me angry as well, it’s still not the hackers themselves enraging me.
Continue reading at Falkvinge on Infopolicy
Context: Some fellow Plankheads and I are planning to do a live-action version of Brodyquest at Anthrocon in a couple weeks, so I needed to make some Brody masks. Well, I saved it onto my desktop, AND THEN THE ENDING OF BRODYQUEST ACTUALLY HAPPENED.
I have no idea how this completely unrelated PDF file turned into Adrien Brody’s face, but all I know is that I didn’t (intentionally) do it. What the hell.
For anyone who doesn’t understand the context, watch Brodyquest and note what happens at the end:
An animation student from Bennington College is animating for Your Face is a Saxophone as her summer internship. When I was emailing back and forth with her program coordinator, I signed my emails as “Zacqary Adam Green; Chief Executive Plankhead, Plankhead”. Because, of course. Why wouldn’t I?
So, it turns out they created an account for me on Bennington’s employer coordination web-app-system-thing. And lo and behold, I open up the contact info page, and the Title field is already filled out:
Now, on the one hand, yes, of course, why shouldn’t it say that? That’s my title.
On the other hand, this was typed in by another human being. And not just any human being, but an administrator at an academic institution, in the context of entirely legitimate academic administration.
This is so weird.
It is legal to copy, share, modify, or reuse the material
published on Plankhead.com for any purpose.
Please give credit to us if you do.
To the extent possible under law,
Plankhead
has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to the content of this website.
This work is published from the
United States.
Four Wise Men and a Tsunami — A Parable
There once lived four wise men on a small island in the sea. Each wise man believed in a different philosophy, and lived according to his own personal ideals. One day, an earthquake shook the seas around the island, and sent an enormous tsunami barreling towards its shore.
The first wise man screamed, stood up, and ran. He ran and ran to the top of the highest mountain on the island, and hid in a cave at the summit. In the darkness of the cave, he did not see that the tsunami was taller than the mountain, and that he was not safe.
When the wave hit the shore, the first wise man died, cowering and terrified.
The second wise man laughed pompously at the wave. He gathered every piece of wood, stone, and shell he could find on the beach, and began to construct a wall to stop the wave, and hold it back from engulfing the island. The tsunami approached, and was soon mere meters away. The second wise man’s wall was barely a foot high.
When the wave hit the shore, the second wise man died, humiliated by his defeat.
The third wise man grumbled, and did not move from his seat. He closed his eyes and covered his ears, so that he would not notice the wave approaching. He occasionally relented, opening his eyes for a moment to see the tsunami continuing its approach, before cursing under his breath and shutting himself from reality once more.
When the wave hit the shore, the third wise man died, bitter and angry.
The fourth wise man was barely a man at all, being the youngest of the four. He fashioned a surfboard out of a palm tree, and ran out into the ocean. He swam atop his board out to meet the wave head-on, and at last, finally reached it. He stood up atop his board and allowed the wave to carry him, at thrilling, breakneck speed, sending adrenaline rushing through his veins.
When the wave hit the shore, the fourth wise man died, an elated smile on his face.