It’s made of wood and it’s a map, what more could I ask for? How about a Central Park filled with actual plants? Done! Sure, you could argue that other parks are not given this treatment or that the reservoir or other major bodies of water are missing, but hey, it’s a coffee table, not google earth.
I didn’t have a chance to ask the hotel staff where they got this wonderful thing and the closest I’ve been able to find online is the superficially similar (and unavailable) Manhattan Coffee Table by Doug Edge of (California-based) Galerie Sommerlath.
I give Edge much credit for including the transit lines, but I prefer the darker finish – and distinctive Central Park treatment – of the hotel’s version. I wonder if the concierge uses it to give directions.
Last year I wrote a couple of posts about my various infatuations with various wood products, many in conjunction with various electronics products made of metal. The estimable yobyot commented, “Seriously, though, isn’t the juxtaposition of cedar on aluminum a little too jarring?” I should probably also note that Greg commented, “Oh dear! You HAVE gone over the edge, haven’t you?”
In any case, I initially thought the first comment was about the physical transition between the sleek aluminum computer and the slab of wood. I’d have to agree that it would have been nice if the macbook had been indented or milled so that the wood could be set flush. But I think the question might really have been about the possible clash of textures and colors. I guess there might have been more sedate wood choices than cedar.
I probably don’t have to explain or respond to Greg’s comment, we all know that gondola sailed long ago, but I think this next find might give both commenters pause: I learned via Gizmodo that there’s a guy in Hungary who makes furniture out of wood and metal by pouring molten metal into channels carved in the wood. This results in a form of joinery that’s part carpentry, part casting, and all elemental alchemical madness. The scorch marks on the wood are a marvelous side effect of the process. Now this is how I’d like to have a wooden cover put on my aluminum macbook.
Somehow I missed this one when the news broke. IKEA decided to make some changes to the iconic, omnipresent (and often immovable) Expedit line of shelving. Specifically, they narrowed the outer walls (perhaps to save wood), softened the corners a bit, and renamed the whole thing Kallax. Rabid fans the world over lost their cool as word got out that the beloved vinyl-accommodating storage range was to be “discontinued.”
Design geeks geeked out on it. Environmentalists doled out praise, after all, even a millimeter less wood over zillions of IKEA units comes to something. LP lovers finally took a chill pill when it became clear that the interior dimensions of Kallax would be identical to those of Expedit. And one reporter noted that both Expedit and Kallax sound a bit like remedies for constipation. I’m not wild about the design change, I have to say. I think you either have the outer walls the same thickness as the inner ones (as in IKEA’s equally omnipresent Billy bookcases) or you make a statement with much thicker ones. And boxiness is so much of the identity of Expedit, why would you want to round any of the corners, even a little?
But enough about design. What’s really interesting to me here is the name change. After all, if they hadn’t called it something else, nobody would have freaked out about it being discontinued. Lots of products bear the same name through generational changes much more drastic than this. Look at Apple iPods over the years, or Ford Mustangs for that matter.
Here’s what I think happened: I think somebody in marketing decided that Expedit was old and boring and that the brand needed freshening. What they missed was that “old and boring” aka “standardized and reliable” was part of the appeal, perhaps a huge part of it. At least they didn’t turn their back on the range of add-ons already perfectly sized to the cubbies by changing the interior dimension that, by the way, is also so popular with record fans.
A few years ago I wrote about the perils of changing your brand or even just your logo or web theme because you are bored with it or think it needs a change. The question to be asking is really, is the market bored with it? Can you really change it for the better and not lose something along the way? I doubt that IKEA has lost much by this, but they certainly didn’t gain, and the cost of doing the name change and dealing with the blowback wasn’t zero, either.
So I decided to make one. What does toxoplasma gondii look like? Well, it looks like a single-celled organism, more or less paramecium-shaped and usually purple from the slide stain. Since the actual critters are just a few microns long, nobody, least of all your cat, is going to notice if the model is not so accurate. I chose purple felt from the craft store and some yellow embroidery floss for thread and interest.
You can download the sewing pattern here. No, you can’t, there is no pattern, and I can barely sew. I just cut out a couple of pointy-ended ellipses, dressed one up with a button and some stitching representing organelles, and sewed them together, stuffing a couple of old socks and a few spoonfuls of locally-grown catnip (from Blue Skys Farm in Cranston RI) inside as I went along.
If you’re sewing anything, your cat is probably going to want to help. If you’re sewing something full of catnip, your cat is definitely going to want to help. Be sure to have enough extra catnip to occupy the cat while you work or it will not go well for anybody.
While there are clearly flaws in this initial prototype (not least the fact that it looks like a long-forgotten banana), the first test run went quite well from the cat’s point of view, and by the time I retrieved the toy for a photo (it wasn’t easy, let me tell you), it had gotten a good mauling and was a bit soggy, but at least my stitching had not come undone.
Find a more suitable fabric
Learn to sew
Become an Etsy millionaire
You can direct distribution inquiries to my business manager, pictured at right.
Note for the humorless: toxoplasmosis doesn’t do much to most of us, but can be quite dangerous to the immunocompromised and pregnant women and their unborn children, so such people should stay away from cat poop and contaminated meat. Read more from the CDC.
Finger firmly fixed on the pulse of SciFi fandom, io9 asks, “Are bookshelves becoming obsolete?” Seems to me the question is more, “are paper books on their way out?” and I can dispense with that questions quickly with a simple, “yes.”
I am convinced that ebooks have won. There will always be holdouts and it will take a long time for paper books to get to where vinyl records are now (temporary hipster renaissance), and then eventually where wax cylinders or clay tablets are (museums only), but there’s simply too much for readers, publishers, and authors to gain from ebooks. I’ve covered this ground before, and I may again, but let me indulge in a little sappy nostalgia (again? yes, again.) for what we’re losing.
Your taste and knowledge on display
I’ve heard that ebooks are enabling a resurgence of smut because you can buy dirty books in private and read them in public without having to hide the cover. Hard to say if that’s good or bad, but in the paperless book future, you won’t be able to peruse your friends’ libraries so easily when visiting their homes, and you won’t be able to impress your own guests so easily with the size or depth of your own library. If you find yourself in a bookless home, you’ll have to run off to the loo and peek into the medicine cabinet to get insight into your host.
No matter how many or how few, how fancy or how plain, your paper books are yours, and each one is a separate object that you can loan, sell, gift, even alter or destroy. Those books exist outside of Kindle, outside of iPad, outside of DRM, the internet, and electricity. Until the ebook world comes up with a satisfactory method for giving away or lending ebooks, maybe even inscribing them, I’ll miss those possibilities most of all.