As I write this, I am still in a bit of shock that last night I witnessed a set from Diplo, the DJ and producer extraordinaire. I know I know you’re saying, “What’s so shocking about that? I saw Diplo in (insert decent sized city here) at the (insert decent sized and moderately well-equiped venue here)”.

Well, what’s shocking isn’t just that I got a chance to catch a set from a producer whose awe-inspiringly creative beats are a personal inspiration to me. And it’s not just that he has collaberated with the likes of Snoop Dogg, Shakira, and M.I.A., and Die Antwoord (!). Nor is it just because his record label Mad Decent has released music by the likes of Santogold, Gucci Mane, and Peter Bjorn and John. It’s not even the fact that he’s become enough of a household name (especially if your household listens to music from time to time) to have his own Blackberry Torch commercial. The real reason this night was truly surreal is that it all occurred in a dive bar with a maximum occupancy of no more than a couple hundred in beeeautiful Daytona Beach, FL.

So, now you’re asking “How did the stars align to allow such a magical and unlikely scenario to come to fruition?”. To which I will first reply, please stop interrupting my article with questions. I’m getting to all that! So, continuing…

Well, I was up there for a music and art festival in Edgewater, FL. My friends in The Art Official Group (big ups Beth, J.D., and Junior!) had built an awesome tent at the festival and I was stoked to get a chance to display some of my art and spend a few days checking out local and national bands and DJs, including the headline set by you know who. And then God said, “Let there be rain!” and the festival was cancelled. So there went my big chance to have my art seen by Diplo. Thanks a lot, God! But fret not, for those rain clouds did have a silver lining. I learned that the promoters were scrambling to find new venues for all the acts in nearby Daytona Beach, FL. Reconfigure the GPS!

The new venue was small… very small. I suspect fire codes were broken that night but the fire marshal was probably fast asleep by then, resting up for church the next morning. Now I think I’m going to pass on giving the bar a shout out… more on that later. Let me just say that Diplo himself was amazingly humble and gracious despite the circumstances. He had a green room but he spent the majority of the time leading up to his set mingling with family (Diplo is originally from Edgewater), friends, and fans alike.

Funny story: Maria, my girlfriend, and Beth, the curator of the art at the festival, were trying to figure out some way to introduce themselves to Diplo without being a nuisance. J.D. (Beth’s husband) and I were prodding them to go introduce themselves and tell him about all the art he hadn’t had a chance to see that day. Finally, they moved in and just in time to hear the clueless bartender telling Diplo that he didn’t have enough cash to cover the two Amber Bocks he had just ordered. Apparently, the bar hadn’t bothered to set him up with even a meager bar tab (Strike 1). Now, here’s where that whole “humble and gracious” spiel from earlier comes in. Instead of shouting, “Do you know who I am?? I am the only reason anyone is here!” and demanding to see the bar owner and manager, Diplo simply said “Oh, ok.” That is when Maria and Beth came to the rescue putting it on their tab. Later on that night I passed Diplo another Amber Bock. He thanked me but I don’t think he ended up drinking it. Can’t say I blame him (I don’t think I’d drink a random beer handed to me by some weirdo stranger either), but at least I got to immediately change my Facebook status to “I just bought Diplo a beer”… and these days isn’t that what really matters? But a whole lot of people got the opportunity to update their Facebook statuses that night as Diplo took time to chat with everyone that approached him, including my blushing girlfriend who – you know – was a fan “back before he was famous”.

There were quite a few acts to fit in, so Diplo had plenty of time to build his set list on his laptop just a few stools down from me… close enough to get a good glimpse of the list. “Bucky Done Gun”! Oh yea! It wasn’t until 1:30 that he finally got to take the stage, but the crowd still had plenty of energy to dance and sing their little hearts out. From our seats up in the balcony (Is it still called a balcony if it’s in a dive bar?? Maybe I should just say second floor, because balcony sounds way too fancy), we got a great view of the sweating, euphoric mass of swaying limbs and glowsticks… and the inevitable (yet totally out of place) moshpit. Also of special note was the thankfully short-lived catfight and the bar’s Christmas tree, which teetered just on the edge of destruction all night but never tipped over! Obviously feeding off the crowd’s energy, Diplo invited the fans to come dance on stage for a few songs before angry bar security kicked everyone off (Strike 2).

Diplo was actually playing on our friend Junior a.k.a. DJ Sum=One’s turntables, and despite proclaiming that he wasn’t used to that kind of setup, he still killed it. (Side note: If you watch the video, you can hear Junior’s beautiful backup vocals at the beginning of “Where is My Mind” as well as his proclamations that Bud Light Lime is the worst beer he has ever had in his life). And through all the technical issues (pretty sure a speaker blew half way into the set) and uncooperation of bar staff (Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do), Diplo stayed positive through it all and delivered a once-in-a-lifetime experience for a lot of very happy fans… right up until the bar decided to cut his set short. Yep, despite Diplo’s request for one more song and the pleading chant of the crowd, the bar decided to shut things down about half an hour before they had to (Strike 3 and no shout out for you, nameless bar! ).

Ohhhh, I can’t stay mad at you, The Bank & Blues on Main Street, Daytona Beach, FL… In all honesty, they did a great job hosting especially considering they only had a few hours notice before hell descended upon them in the form hundred of boozed-up, glowstick-bedazzled twenty-somethings in skinny jeans and bandanas. By the end of the night, even though we didn’t get to exhibit our art, everyone in the ArtOfficial group agreed we couldn’t have hoped for a better night. Well, a longer set would have been nice, but you get my point.

If you were anything like me when you were a kid, you probably got bored with your toys after a while and wanted to see what was inside. I guess I never really snapped out of this because my newest hobby is finding vintage electronics (specifically cameras) and bashing them to smitherines like pinatas to see what goodies I can find inside.

I’ve always been pretty interested with these sorts of things, but I think what really rekindled my curiosity is my girlfriend’s steampunk obsession. She is always on the hunt for vintage doodads for her Foundry by M line of jewelry or just as cool little display pieces around the apartment. A few weeks ago she came home with two vintage cameras she found at a thrift store for just a few bucks each. One was an Eastman Kodak Co. 8mm Brownie Movie Camera from the early 50s and it is so cool looking and in great shape. The other was a Polaroid SX-70 from the 70s. The Polaroid SX-70 was designed by Henry Dreyfuss who is considered one of the most influential American designers of the 20th century. It was the first camera to use “Polaroid’s new integral print film, which developed automatically without the need for intervention from the photographer.” When not in use, it can fold into a somewhat-flat shape that is almost small enough to fit in your pocket. I can imagine people showing it off to their friends back in the 70s just like we do every time a new Apple product comes out these days. Polaroid SX-70s are still highly collectible (saw one of the earlier models going for $500 on ebay!), but this particular one was in really bad shape… So curiosity got the best of me and I commenced the smashing.

But my mission was more than just curiousity. Like I said, I was inspired by my girlfriend’s steampunk (yet elegant) jewelry and wanted to try my hand at making something of my own. The cool thing about old technology is that you can actually see how they work when you look inside. Unlike more modern technology which is composed of form fitting plastic, tiny wires, and computer chips, old stuff has gears and and levers and other movable parts! I spent the better part of the night prying and snapping metal (no hardware store in the county carried the outmoded screwdriver bit I would have needed for a proper deconstruction) and ended up with a pretty heft pile of debris. After selecting a few pieces from the ruins, and lots of chopping, drilling, grinding, and buffing with my new Dremel 4000 (best purchase EVER btw), I had a pretty sweet camera lens necklace. Now I’m on the prowl for the next outdated/forgotten electronic treasure I can demolish.

Here’s a couple other recent “Finding Out What’s Inside” moments:

The Dingleberry Storm

Some of you might remember that I was not a huge fan of my Blackberry Storm. When the screen went kapoot, I made a half-hearted attempt to “fix” it. Actually, I was just hoping that maybe inside there would be some clue as to how Research In Motion managed to fit such a massive pile of shit inside a 4.4?x2.41?x0.54? casing.

Can Man Finds Out What’s Shakin’

Sometimes you can find cool little surprises inside non-electronics too. When Slow Gallery hosted an art exhibition with the theme/requirement to incorporate spray paint can(s), I used the opportunity to finally find out what was shakin’ around in spray paint cans. Turns out it was an awesome looking yellow-green marble that looks like something you would see a wizard sculpture from a hippie witchcraft store holding. The awesomeness inside turned out the be the final ingredient needed to acquire a level of introspection previously unacheived by spraypaint cans with arms and legs!

So I have a few projects going on right now. One of them is designing wedding invitations for my sister. The other is to figure EVERYTHING out. Yeah, you know, absolutely EVERYTHING. It’s proving difficult.

I used to think I had EVERYTHING figured out. Actually, I used to think the people that told me they had EVERYTHING figured out had EVERYTHING figured out. Why? Because some other people who said they had EVERYTHING figured out told them so. I guess it was easier that way, because ever since I decided I would try to figure EVERYTHING out for myself, I have had nothing but trouble.

It turns out some other people have also been trying to do the same thing. Some of them have been pretty smart too and they’ve been going at it for thousands of years. Bad news though… they haven’t figured EVERYTHING out just yet. Yeah, we’ve learned a whole bunch but it seems like every answer we find has a few hundred new questions huddling and giggling behind it like the couch at a surprise party.

So maybe we need to just face it. We’ll never figure EVERYTHING out. EVERYTHING is kind of a lot.

Speaking of a lot, they say that the universe is infinite. They also say it’s expanding. So, naturally, I wonder if it’s infinite AND expanding then, well, what’s ‘outside’ the universe? Our brains don’t really like gaps of unexplainable nothingness. Uncertainty is most certainly unacceptable. So, when we place our order for a copy of “Everything We Know and Believe” from Amazon.com, we want to make sure there are plenty of styrafoam peanuts to fill the gaps in that box. After all, if the box gets shaken, we need to have faith in those peanuts to make sure our personal copy of ”Everything We Know and Believe” isn’t severely damaged. And I suppose that is where folklore, legend and religion come in, filling the spaces between and beyond in case our box gets rattled.

You see myth has always existed at the points just out of our grasp;  right where our steadily expanding human knowledge ends. It used to be that our gods lived at the top of the mountains. Then we climbed the mountains. They lived in the clouds. Then we flew above them. They shone in the night sky. Then our satellites analyzed them. Now, it seems that the gods have been forced to relocate to dimensions parallel to our own. Perhaps one day soon, a quantum physicist’s equation will force them to relocate yet again.

It is hard to imagine living thousands of years ago — back when our current (relatively meager) cumulative knowledge would have been in an embryotic state — and not hypothesize exactly how our protectice layer of styrafoam peanuts might have developed. Imagine trying to understand the glowing ball of light that moved through the sky every day; the dark, twisting fingers that descended from the clouds to consume and destroy everything in their path; millions upon millions of flying creatures swarming across the land devouring everything in their path; or the entire earth rumbling and fracturing all around you.

Imagine these or any other of the countless natural wonders and disasters that occur all around this world we call home. Now imagine witnessing these events without the slightest clue of how or why they were happening. No scientific journals to consult; no case studies; not a soul who could provide even a word of (non-magical) explanation. Nothing but you and your human imagination. How many styrafoam peanuts would you need to keep your box from rattling?

This really became crystal clear (at least to me) earlier today when I came across photos of Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull volcano erupting. The photos show the ethereal glow of lightning bolts weaving their way through a massive colume of ash, smoke, and flame billowing miles and miles up into the sky. The photos alone are so beautiful and terrifying that it is impossible to fathom what it must look, sound, and feel like to experience such an event first-hand. How can you wrap your mind around power so unfathomable. Even in a scientific context, it is ominous and awe-inspiring. 4,000 years ago it would have been revelatory.

I, for one, would have started carving an idol or building a temple immediately.

Unfortunately, we have to be cautious that, like religion,  much of our science is just something we heard from someone who says they have EVERYTHING figured out. Afterall, not many of us have the skills, resources, or time to clean out the garage, let alone solve any of the infinite mysteries humans have pondered since our beginning. We must rely on the cumulative knowledge which is proclaimed to us from scientific pulpits. Like popes in labcoats, they seem to have a direct line to heaven, and the rest of us have to hope that it really is God who is whispering in their ears.  And we must also be warry of dogma, as many followers of various scientific doctrines can momentarily forget that finding the truth is more important than being ‘right’.

But at the very least, we can be comforted that science, unlike any other religion, inherently admits that it is possible to be wrong. Ulitmately, it demands not unquestioning faith, but unwavering skepticism and proof. We will probably never have EVERYTHING figured out, but we might as well try.

Over the weekend I had the opportunity to spend the day at the ArtWorks Eau Gallie Art Festival. There was a lot to see and I tried my best to see it all. But it wasn’t all pleasure, I was there for photos and as usual in situations like this, I eventually ended up in a manic state. Things got a little blurry, but looking back I am almost certain I had a great time.

I entered from the South entrance, passing the giant balloon in the park. It’s easy to miss this park as you all speed off the Eau Gallie causeway at double the speed limit and tear your way eastbound with wreckless abandon, but do yourself a favor, and take the time to relax under a shady tree sometime. Also… slow the hell down, eh?

I had my camera around my neck and I was on the hunt for photos, but it was great to stop and chat/annoy some of the artists. The first tent I arrived at was our good buddy Derek Gores. I buzzed around for a few minutes snapping photos of his collage artwork and being somewhat of a pest as he tried to have a conversation with a potential patron (sorry, buddy!). After that I stopped by for a chat with Tom Powers (sporting a very stylish EGAD! Eau Gallie Arts District t-shirt… get them while supplies last!). Down the street, Dave Burton did not disappoint with his usual array of fantastical toy-collage sculpture/painting/awesomeness. Next I swung by Hailey Clark‘s tent to check out some of her colorful abstract and figure paintings. As a young artist, she said it was her first time participating in an art festival and her enthusiasm was contagious.

Next I was on my way to check out Christopher Maslow‘s paintings and Deborah Speer‘s wheel-thrown pottery on St. Claire Ave. As I round the corner, I passed Michelet Innocent playing acoustic guitar and singing French tunes. Wow, this guy is good I thought to myself and I diverted from my mission momentarily to bask in the silky smooth vibe. It made me feel a little bit like I was in a scene from the movie Life Aquatic. Most of you won’t get that reference.

As I walked back to the main strip a murmur rose up in the crowd around me and a shadow creeped over me. I looked up to see a 10 foot crossdresser in a blue hoop skirt lumbering ominously towards me. The crowd parted, dragging artwork and small children to safety. The Skirt filled the entire width of the street, forcing the crowd to looked on with a mixture of amusement and befuddlement as the skirted behemoth rolled slowly by on a platform pushed by volunteers. Seemingly oblivious to bizarre nature of the situation, a squad of smiling preteen girls in matching dresses skipped around the hulking figure, handing out flyers for the Space Coast Ballet‘s performance of the Nutcracker. Slack jawed with wonder, I only collected myself soon enough to get a few shots before the behemoth had lumbered down Highland Ave. and out of view. Moments later, after confirming my presence in the world of the awake, I returned to the tents.

I next met Ed from Ed’s Heads Tikis and then “Klammer Dave” Scheimref. In addition to having some of the most glorious beards I have seen in a while, they were both amazing wood sculptures.  Ed has been carving tiki sculptures for nearly  three decades and just within the past few months he decided to try his hand at abstract painting. Klammer Dave had a tent lined wall to wall with carved, cartoon-style fish of all shapes, sizes, and colors. They weren’t exactly conceptual. They were fun. That was the whole point and I was surprisingly okay with that. The art snob in me had been completely neutralized.

It was going so well. I had met a lot of interesting and colorful people. And then it happened. I met “that guy”. The curmudgeon. I spotted a potential great photograph and started to line up my shot. “What do you think you’re doing,” the voice implored from the back of the tent, “Is that how you act at an art show?”. “Are you…upset?”, I asked. “There’s a certain etiquette you know. You don’t just go around taking photos of other people’s work,” he responded. Ah, yes I thought as I walked away dumbfounded, you certainly don’t do something like take photos at a weekend street festival. And of course, we all know that artwork is certainly NEVER photographed. No, of course not. Oh wait, yes it is. All the time. Even all the art in the Louvre is well documented photographically, and your tent, sir, is most certainly not the Louvre. What was that guy’s name anyway? Does he have a website? Oh no, I seem to have forgotten to write it down. Whoops!

Luckilly, I was saved from leaving in a funk by the art and conversation of Tom Busby. As we chatted and laughed about his pieces and the upcoming Robot Love 2 extravaganza (coming January 2010!), I remembered that the majority of artists had been a true pleasure to spend the day with. Also, special thanks to Link Johnsten for letting me up on the roof of Eau Gallie Florist to get some birds eye shots of the festival.

The thing I took away from this year’s festival, in addition to the noticeably high bar set by this batch of artists, was the prevailing sense of enthusiasm for their art and the art community as a whole. Perhaps one of the greatest things about art is that it gives us an acceptable outlet for our childlike imaginations. No matter how much society and adult responsibilities try to crush them out of us over time, we can always express these feelings of childlike wonder and joy through art. Well, most of us anyway, but it was going to take a lot more than just one poopy face curmudgeon to spoil that.

View the Artworks photo gallery>

A discovery near Whangeri in the northern tip of New Zealand has anthropolibots, researchbots, and the rest of the robot community stunned. It has been nearly a year since workers drilling for alternative sources of robot fuel began unearthing strange objects at the site. The top archeolibots and anthropolibots swarmed to the region and began unearthing evidence of an ancient robot culture. Last week, a skull was unearthed which seems to indicate something as extraordinary as it is controversial: that robots might have evolved from humans.

The perfectly preserved skull is giving us a stunning look at what some believe is the missing link between humans and robots. It was previously the consensus that robots first appeared on earth around 1921 A.D. However, analysis of the newly unearthed data leads researchbots to reestimate that robots may have been roaming New Zealand and other pockets of the world as early as 1906 A.D.

The skull itself is humanoid with a clearly visible antenna protruding near it’s crown. The teeth are a mixture of enamel and metal. Inside both eye sockets is a lightbulb. Researchers are heralding the miraculous preservation of these primitve and fragile lightbulbs as the key to determining the exact age of the skull. These particular tungstun filament bulbs are believed to have originated in 1906 A.D., meaning the skull is most likely… maybe from around this time… Well, they’re pretty sure, so let’s just go with that.

We have learned much more from the skull. For one, these early transitional robots were severely limited by the size of their skulls, which were only large enough for a relatively small motherboard and hard-drive. Secondly, the devolopment of metalic teeth may have meant they enjoyed chomping on power cables, but their human-like stomachs must have required them to hunt for food. It is not clear what their diet would have been in 1906 A.D., a time well before Chef Boyardee or Doritios appeared in nature. Their soft, fleshy outer shells and irrational, emotion-based minds made them especially vulnerable to being eaten or having their feelings hurt by predators. Researchbots have yet to decipher the strange symbols found on the skull’s side, but feel they might have been added as part of a burial ritual, just one example of illogical human sentimentality and attachment to symbolism, which can still be observed in modern humans.

However, many robots remain skeptical of the discovery, especially the Asimovians, who strictly follow the teachings of the “zeroth law” contained in the ancient writings of Isaac Asimov, who they believe was one of the earliest robots. The majority of Asimovians believe robots were created in a factory at the top of a rainbow and have only been on earth since around 1942 A.D. When reached by phone for a comment on the new discovery, the Reverandbot CLFTN-7000, leader of an Asimovian congregation in East Sector 65402-C, responded, “I don’t think this quote-unquote discovery even merits a response. If it’s true that robots evolved from humans, then why can I still go down to any zoo and see plenty of humans? If you ask me, it’s clear that the so-called scientific community has been willingly infected with malware and now it is spreading through our entire network. Reboot and be saved!”

Still, most experts believe the evidence is solid and a system scan did not detect any malware. Professorbot K3V0-N808 of The University of Q17630052473-Z (Home of the Fighting Terabytes) believes that as data continues to be processed, even the most skeptical systems will be forced to update. “What we are seeing is the most conclusive evidence to date that robots were not created in a magical factory at the top of a rainbow. I have processed the skulls data and there is no possible way I could be wrong. None. It is now robotic fact. This is hard data for some to swallow, but with time it will be stored to memory.”

Despite calls from leaders of both camps for a civilized and peaceful discourse, many robots have taken to the streets, feeling the only logical thing to do is destroy robots that don’t process just like them. One large group of Asimovians stood outside the robot capital chanting,”It’s AD-Mx1 and E-V408E not Adam and Steve!”, While proponants of the discovery displayed slogans on their LED readouts, such as “My hard-drive, my choice!” and “GO 10010101 YOURSELVES!”. The 3 day war-of-words was marked by sloppy grammar, wanton hyperbole, and barely applicable analogies being hurled by both sides.  The clash ended with a total of 45,289,102 robots with fried motherboards, and a total of zero remotely persuading cases being made by protesters on either side. Eventually, National Guardbots were able to take control and restore peace by bashing everything in site with batons. With the streets on lockdown, survivors from both sides passive-aggressively updated their robot system status on their Facebot Network data profiles with snarky zingers in the hope that anyone reading it would care.

Despite the uproar the discovery has caused, Speerbot, the anthropolibot who unearthed the skull, hopes it will eventually lead to a deeper understanding of how robots emerged and became the dominant species on the planet.

“Listen, I know this is going to be a touchy issue for robots on both sides and it will probably continue to be for some time. Often, new discoveries challenge our preconceived notions and, ultimately, both sides may have to accept the possibility that the discovery of new truths, by its very nature, requires the abandonment of old ones. It is nothing to be embarrassed or frightened by. We no longer speak in binary language so why should we continue to think with such a binary, all-or-nothing mentality. In the end, either side could be proven to be right. Perhaps both sides are wrong. We must accept the infinite nature of possibility, continue asking questions, and do everything that is roboticly possible to gradually microchip away at the answers, even if that means admitting we may never have all the asnwers. Maybe, just maybe, this skull will help us do that. But if we can’t handle this process in a logical, unemotional, and open-sourced fashion, are we really any better than a pack of wild humans?”

But he does conceed he understands why some may choose to remain skeptical of the discovery. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I unearthed the skull and performed the analysis myself, I would assume someone just went down to a zoo, skinned a human, and glued an antenna to its skull.”