"like all your unresolved feelings"

in

While I’d prefer to stick a fork in the eye of whoever came up with April Fool’s Day, Konami’s SILENT HILL 2 James body pillow might earn the day a reprieve. Especially because it seems to be real.

Ever wanted to sit in silence, reflect on your life decisions, and hug James Sunderland while doing it? Now you can.

Yes, this is real. Yes, you can pre-order it. No, we’re not going to explain ourselves.

But you only have 7 days. After that, it disappears into the fog like all your unresolved feelings.

Martín Kukso

in

These weren't just Game Over screens; they were little moments of drama and character. When you could dance around the room and humiliate your opponents. Martín saw that when most of us were too busy being annoyed to notice.

What makes the leap to sculpture so inspired is the way it amplifies without distorting. The original pixel-art illustrations – credited to legendary Capcom artists Akiman and Kinu Nishimura – were already slightly caricatured, which gave them a playfulness that stopped them tipping into cruelty. (Although to be fair, I'd have gladly seen my opponents suffer more if I ever managed to beat them!)

Nevertheless, Martín has preserved that tone with care. "I wanted to bring that same energy into a different medium," he explains, "something that doesn't feel violent, but instead comes across as a bit playful." And it works. These heads are bruised and puffy and cross-eyed in a way that makes you grin rather than wince.

Martín Kukso site and Insta

Anthony Angel

in

Stunning; can’t believe I’m only now learning of Angel’s work. Whole article is fantastic; more beautiful photos there | via Ephemeral New York:

Mental illness set in. Instead of finishing his Harvard degree, he joined the army, and after a medical discharge drifted across the country doing odd jobs before settling in Manhattan.

Armed with a camera and a new identity as Anthony Angel, he spent years promptly leaving his rented room on East 51st Street to crisscross the city, an unlikely documentarian of ordinary glimpses during Gotham’s postwar years.

“On almost every afternoon from 1952 to 1966, [Rizzuto] left his crummy rented room to snap pictures on the New York streets,” wrote New York magazine in 2005.



Gamepop Tetris

in

via Dezeen:

The paper cover integrates a custom matrix of 180 two-millimetre RGB LEDs, soldered onto a flexible circuit board with a thickness of just a tenth of a millimetre.

The circuit board is sandwiched between layers of paper, creating a bendable cover that measures roughly five millimetres at its thickest point, where the rechargeable coin-cell batteries are housed.

The game is controlled using seven touch sensors that are etched into the circuit board to replace physical buttons, and the falling tetrominoes appear as small cells of light that shine through the paper.

KLUMPEN

in

I love this idea - and its 2001-meets-MIDSOMMAR aesthetic:

Klumpen™ is a complete, off-grid utility core containing everything required for modern life: solar-generated electricity, satellite broadband, shower, lavatory, and a compact kitchen.

'It's not a "house". It's the 5% of a house that takes 95% of the time to build.'

Calicornication: Postcards of Giant Produce (1909)

in
Produced by the prolific San Francisco–based publisher Edward H. Mitchell, each card features a single rail car rolling through lush farmland. Aboard are gargantuan, luminous fruits and vegetables: dimpled navel oranges, a dusky bunch of grapes, and mottled walnuts. Placed end-to-end, the cards would make a colorful train crossing California’s fertile valleys. Unlike other, more action-packed “tall-tale” cards — filled with farmers, fisherman, and children for scale — Mitchell’s series is restrained. Sharply illuminated, the colossal cargo lean toward artwork rather than gag. “A Carload of Mammoth Apples”, green-yellow and gleaming, could have been plucked from Rene Magritte’s The Son of Man.