With its Color Alive line, Crayola was the first company to merge coloring books and apps so kids could bring their on-page creations to life. But Disney Research is taking that idea one step further by letting kids see a coloring book character move in 3D while they’re still coloring it. It’s all made possible by a new augmented reality app that Disney Research has developed that’s able to track and capture real-time images from a mobile device’s camera, and then map them onto any 3D deformable surface. READ MORE: Disney Has Invented 3D Coloring Books | Gizmodo
Digital books stagnate in closed, dull systems, while printed books are shareable, lovely and enduring. What comes next? READ MORE: Will digital books ever replace print? – Craig Mod – Aeon
Everyday decisions, from which products to buy, movies to watch and restaurants to try, are more and more being put in the hands of a new source: recommendation systems. Recommendation systems are changing the very ways we make up our minds, guiding us through a new digital reality whose evolution is bringing us closer to exactly what it is that we want — even if we ourselves don’t know it yet. Recommendation systems (or RS for short) are intelligent information filtering engines that narrow the decision-making process to just a few proposals, and they’ve become an integral part of the user experience within some of our favorite platforms. READ MORE: The Evolving Landscape Of Recommendation Systems | TechCrunch
Makerspaces are great for bringing your gadget ideas to life, but they’re not usually much help to nurses who may want to invent (or improvise) tools needed to take care of their patients. That’s where the University of Texas’ new, permanent MakerHealth Space might just save the day. Nurses and other workers at the school’s John Sealy Hospital now have a dedicated area with 3D printers, laser cutters and other equipment that lets them create or modify devices (say, a pill bottle sensor) without leaving work. The facility sterilizes and reviews every product before it’s put into service, so you shouldn’t have to worry about a risky tool ruining your hospital stay. READ MORE: Hospital makerspace lets nurses build their own tools | Engadget
The code:mobile is Ladies Learning Code’s newest and biggest initiative to inspire and educate Canadian girls and boys to become passionate builders — not just consumers of technology. Think: a travelling computer lab on wheels that will make a cross-Canada journey in 2016 teaching 10,000+ kids to code along the way.
But, it’s more than just a truck or a computer lab. It’s a cross-Canada journey that will bring hands-on, interactive technology education to Canadian youth. We believe that computer programming and other technical skills are a tool of empowerment, and it is our mission at Ladies Learning Code to ensure that all Canadians — particularly women and youth — have access to these learning opportunities.
SUPPORT THE INITIATIVE: The code:mobile – Canada’s First Coding Truck | Ladies Learning Code
Until Azriel Knight developed the film in his darkroom, no one had ever seen these photographs, or hundreds of others like them, dating back decades and showing everything from mundane life to the historically fascinating. “It’s easier than throwing the film away — I come across them by happenstance, by buying old cameras,” said Knight. “In the photos, a lot of the time the people seem really happy, so I figure they would probably like to have them back.” Like a voyeuristic Indiana Jones, Knight is an archeological treasure hunter, sifting through forgotten rolls of film for clues as to who lost them, and when and where they were taken.
Knight’s website, Mysterious Developments (http://mysteriousdev.com), contains 61 documented cases of lost film so far, presented both as still pictures and as narrated video episodes, explaining what’s known so far.
At the end of our lives, what do we most wish for? For many, it’s simply comfort, respect, love. BJ Miller is a palliative care physician at Zen Hospice Project who thinks deeply about how to create a dignified, graceful end of life for his patients. Take the time to savor this moving talk, which asks big questions about how we think on death and honor life. Interactive Transcript
For resources related to managing your digital afterlife: #Digital #Afterlife: Managing Memories of Loved Ones in the Digital Age | #death #socialmedia #memorials | infophile.ca
Blockbuster releases are homogenising around a narrow range of experiences and it could be driving creative people out of the industry. READ: Video games have a diversity problem that runs deeper than race or gender | Technology | The Guardian
Libraries aren’t just for books, or even e-books, anymore. They are for checking out cake pans (North Haven, Conn.), snowshoes (Biddeford, Me.), telescopes and microscopes (Ann Arbor, Mich.), American Girl dolls (Lewiston, Me.), fishing rods (Grand Rapids, Minn.), Frisbees and Wiffle balls (Mesa, Ariz.) and mobile hot spot devices (New York and Chicago). Here in Sacramento, where people can check out sewing machines, ukuleles, GoPro cameras and board games, the new service is called the Library of Things. READ MORE: These Public Libraries Are for Snowshoes and Ukuleles | The New York Times
Snip: I do not think anyone ever counted the number of books in Chimen’s house, although he made partial efforts over the years to catalog his collection, and various book experts, some flown in from New York and others from London, spent weeks studying it after he died. Looking at the shelves, I estimated that there were probably close to 20,000 volumes in the house at the time of Chimen’s death. My father believed it was more like 15,000. Whatever the exact number of books at Hillway, it was staggering. And what made it more staggering was their quality. Chimen did not simply aim for numbers; he collected books and editions that were extraordinarily hard to find and, by extension, were worth their weight in gold. More important, they were the stuff of rebirth, ways to bring vanished pasts to life. READ MORE: My Grandfather Built a House of 20,000 Books From the Ashes of War | The New Republic