If you condense the images of the Internet, you get an orange smear. But nobody is sure why.
Today, Jim Bumgardner is the director of application development at Disney Interactive Labs. But almost 10 years ago, he stumbled across a puzzle that would confound him. When layering hundreds of Flickr photos, he found that, again and again, the images became a consistent, bronze blur. He named his montages Bronze Shields. They looked like pizza shells.
To this date, neither Bumgardner nor anyone else has proven why the images of the Internet, when layered and averaged together en masse, round down into a tarnished orange glow Bumgardner dubbed “emergent orange.” But Bumgardner, collecting ideas from researchers and peers across the web, has suggested four theories:
The self-destructing photo app is experimenting with pushing TV and movie clips.
When Snapchat turned down a $3 billion buyout offer from Facebook, critics thought it was foolhardy hubris. How could a messaging platform that makes photos and videos disintegrate after a few seconds possibly be worth anything to advertisers?
Now we have our first indication of how Snapchat plans to make its billions, and—surprise!—it might not be so silly after all.
Save your battery, while you still can!
Firstborn’s Dan LaCivita argues that technology alone isn’t enough to prevent a preventable tragedy and issues a call for the marketing industry, startups, and others to get involved.
Each year, we hear the headlines on television news, read the stories online at our desks, and discuss the details around our kitchen tables. We shake our heads in sadness, we hug our children tighter, and we fail to comprehend how a parent or a caretaker could just … forget.
I was in one of those places, my dinner table, when my own family began discussing one of the most recent tragedies—two-year-old Cooper Harris—and his murky, but still senseless death. As my own 20-month-old son, Eli, ate (well, played with) his own dinner nearby, my wife, my mother and I discussed how this sort of thing can still happen. We asked, why, with all the amazing technology that we have in this world, is there not something for a parent to purchase to prevent this from accidentally happening to their son or daughter? Why isn’t there a device or product that has the ability to save the lives of 38 children each year?
Turns out, there are a lot of reasons why. And none of them are very good. Here are some of these “barriers” I uncovered and who can help break them down:
Salmon have serious swimming skills—some travel thousands of miles to return to their original homes to breed. But even though they can jump as high as 12 feet in the air, they can’t manage to get over massive concrete dams that we have built to block their journeys back to their homes. Now one new idea could give them a boost. The plan involves whisking the fish through a long vacuum tube at speeds up to 22 miles per hour and then shooting them out the other end like a cannon.
Liquid calories be gone! Sugary drinks have nowhere to hide with Vessyl, a cup with sensors that measures and reads out calories and nutritional info in beverages.
The set-top-box maker is on track to stream 2.7 billion hours this year.
The online coding school Treehouse just launched a “change the ratio” program. Can it help fix tech’s diversity problem?
“It gives you the intimate ability to turn and say, ‘Holy shit. Please tell me you saw that, too.’”
“Bad medical science is always drifting around social media: from a Facebook friend talking about how to lose weight using body wraps, to deadly nutrition advice on thinspo Tumblrs, to anti-vaxxers sowing doubt on Twitter. And false cures and panic-inducing conspiracy theories have historically followed sudden outbreaks of diseases like HIV. The conversations about Ebola combine these two trends.”
And nobody seems to like it.
“We’re the last generation of people who knew what life was like before smartphones.”
In “After Dark,” Internet users around the world control a team of robots that livestream the Tate’s collections into the wee hours.