“Over the course of a year, I researched and created ZXX, a disruptive typeface which takes its name from the Library of Congress’ listing of three-letter codes denoting which language a book is written in. Code “ZXX” is used when there is: “No linguistic content; Not applicable.” The project started with a genuine question: How can we conceal our fundamental thoughts from artificial intelligences and those who deploy them? I decided to create a typeface that would be unreadable by text scanning software (whether used by a government agency or a lone hacker) — misdirecting information or sometimes not giving any at all. It can be applied to huge amounts of data, or to personal correspondence. I drew six different cuts (Sans, Bold, Camo, False, Noise and Xed) to generate endless permutations, each font designed to thwart machine intelligences in a different way. I offered the typeface as a free download in hopes that as many people as possible would use it.”
Ben at Toys and Techniques mentions the Welsh writer Owain Owain. It appears his books have never been translated into English (and probably never will be). I have the sense they’re not in print in Wales either.
His science fiction book entitled Y Dydd Olaf (“The Last Day”) was described by the Welsh literary critic Pennar Davies in the book’s preface: “Nothing like this book has been seen before either in our language or in any other language. We should rejoice that such brilliance exists in Welsh writing.”
this photo via Gwenno
Owain Owain…of the genius name
It is a romantic landscape but it is all grey and quite depressing
It is vast tidal mudflats, a city in the distance
Yes, probably this is New York
But I don’t know and I don’t care
I am not comfortable in the fully open landscape
On reading these words, I had a sense of the space they charted, though I’d never been there and neither had their author, Mattias Forshage, a longtime member of the Stockholm Surrealist group and author of the thoughtful Icecrawler/Heelwalker blog. New York has been shouting for his attention though he’s never had an attachment to the place and now it’s invading his dreams. When Mattias sent me his dream text, it was clear from the first line that there was a walk here analogous to that he’d dreamed.
And this passion unearths a world of colonial knavery. Time and again, we learn of juries stacked against Nationalists, of an Establishment so incensed by Irish claims to self-determination that the Law, held rigorously apart from policy in Great Britain, becomes an instrument of oppression when Ireland is involved and extrajudicial considerations are brought into play. In Dungan’s words, “the establishment sought to subvert its own laws for political purposes”–much as we saw a later empire/democracy of similarly split character, George W. Bush’s United States, treating Guantanamo inmates as “enemy combatants” to sidestep a Due Process that, properly observed, is the envy of the world.
If novels could write, they would write Bolaño novels. His work glints with literary likenesses. Rare is the writer who combines the formal cool of Alain Robbe-Grillet with the thrills of Robert Louis Stevenson: Roberto Bolaño is that happy alchemist…
On this date 72 years ago, André, Jaqueline and Aube Breton, Claude Lévi-Strauss, Wifredo Lam and Helena Holzer, and Victor Serge and his son escaped Vichy France onboard the Capitaine Paul-Lemerle in Marseille bound for Martinique.
During the previous months there, Breton, Max Ernst,…
Étienne Léro—born in Lamentin, Martinique, a student in Paris, and the first black surrealist—founded the journal Légitime Défense in 1932 during the days of the Scotsboro trial to draw on the revolutionary energy in the movement and condemn the culture and administration of his colonial…
Love this blog…digging out intriguing connections…
(For larger version, click on image. Europe After the Rain, 1940-42, Wadsworth Athenaeum)
“We shall not have succeeded in demolishing everything unless we demolish the ruins as well.”—Alfred Jarry
Medium of war, Max Ernst. Europe After the Rain remains his pullulating masterpiece, in…