Buck Mulligan showed a shaven cheek over his right shoulder.
-- God, isn't he dreadful? he said frankly. A ponderous Saxon. He thinks you're not a gentleman. God, these bloody English. Bursting with money and indigestion. Because he comes from Oxford. You know, Dedalus; you have the real Oxford manner. He can't make you out. O, my name for you is the best: Kinch, the knife-blade.
He shaved warily over his chin.
-- He was raving all night about a black panther, Stephen said. Where is his guncase?
-- A woful lunatic, Mulligan said. Were you in a funk?
-- I was, Stephen said with energy and growing fear. Out here in the dark with a man I don't know raving and moaning to himself about shooting a black panther. You saved men from drowning. I'm not a hero, however. If he stays on here I am off.
Buck Mulligan frowned at the lather on his razorblade. He hopped down from his perch and began to search his trouser pockets hastily.
-- Scutter, he cried thickly.
He came over to the gunrest and, thrusting a hand into Stephen's upper pocket, said:
-- Lend us a loan of your noserag to wipe my razor.
Stephen suffered him to pull out and hold up on show by its corner a dirty crumpled handkerchief. Buck Mulligan wiped the razorblade neatly. Then, gazing over the handkerchief, he said:
-- The bard's noserag. A new art colour for our Irish poets: snotgreen. You can almost taste it, can't you?
He mounted to the parapet again and gazed out over Dublin bay, his fair oakpale hair stirring slightly.
-- God, he said quietly. Isn't the sea what Algy calls it: a grey sweet mother? The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea. Epi oinopa ponton. Ah, Dedalus, the Greeks. I must teach you. You must read them in the original. Thalatta! Thalatta! She is our great sweet mother. Come and look.
Stephen stood up and went over to the parapet. Leaning on it he looked down on the water and on the mailboat clearing the harbour mouth of Kingstown.
-- Our mighty mother, Buck Mulligan said.
He turned abruptly his great searching eyes from the sea to Stephen's face.
-- The aunt thinks you killed your mother, he said. That's why she won't let me have anything to do with you.
-- Someone killed her, Stephen said gloomily.
-- You could have knelt down, damn it, Kinch, when your dying mother asked you, Buck Mulligan said. I'm hyperborean as much as you. But to think of your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for her. And you refused. There is something sinister in you.
He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. A tolerant smile curled his lips.
Now I know this is not easy but try turn it upside down se it just as an example but know that this way you can have all frames manufactored and water filled.
Sorry but I need to ask you use all the emagination you can ,you se just a simple thing as doubling up the sections will change the concept compleatly ------- maby you will say "yes but what a job" ; now please remember that all we do, it to press a button, then to make doubled sections into tubes shuld not be understood so, that we just now cut standard tubes no, but we can make the frames replaced with tubes that can be produced quite effectivly, now how many water filled tubes do we need not all frames need to be that ------- beside if you think that in a highrise this will caurse a preasure problem, then think about that ine frame do not go from top to bottom producing 30 at, preasure, as when sections cur 45 deg transversing the structure, it maby just cover from 90 meter to 130 meter producing a way lower preasure.
Btw making your brain produce steam will only happen when you now go one step further and double the frames once again leaving one tube inside another so you can have a layer of water with a core of air or when you produce a flying cooling element.
Sure it is a boat upside down, but it also are the frames a testbench that with just a bit emagination will show many other applications, I alway's used boats as testbench but this don't mean that technikes used in shipsbuilding can not be used in space or on ground, a boat is just that much stronger fit in with nature and work with nature in a way you architects shuld wonder.
Now would it be better that I show the applications in a context of non-gravity. In a fantasy world where the wind shuld generate the pover for the highrise, leaving those living there seasick when the house rock in the wind to generate the electricity by pietzo electrics.
No I think a boat is a much better down to earth testbench.
But a lovely mummer, he murmured to himself. Kinch, the loveliest mummer of them all.
He shaved evenly and with care, in silence, seriously.
Stephen, an elbow rested on the jagged granite, leaned his palm against his brow and gazed at the fraying edge of his shiny black coat-sleeve. Pain, that was not yet the pain of love, fretted his heart. Silently, in a dream she had come to him after her death, her wasted body within its loose brown grave- clothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath, that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of wetted ashes. Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the sea hailed as a great sweet mother by the well-fed voice beside him. The ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. A bowl of white china had stood beside her deathbed holding the green sluggish bile which she had torn up from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting.
Buck Mulligan wiped again his razorblade.
-- Ah, poor dogsbody, he said in a kind voice. I must give you a shirt and few noserags. How are the secondhand breeks?
-- They fit well enough, Stephen answered.
Buck Mulligan attacked the hollow beneath his underlip.
-- The mockery of it, he said contentedly, secondleg they should be. God knows what poxy bowsy left them off. I have a lovely pair with a hair stripe, grey. You'll look spiffing in them. I'm not joking, Kinch. You look damn well when you're dressed.
-- Thanks, Stephen said. I can't wear them if they are grey.
-- He can't wear them, Buck Mulligan told his face in the mirror. Etiquette is etiquette. He kills his mother but he can't wear grey trousers.
He folded his razor neatly and with stroking palps of fingers felt the smooth skin.
Stephen turned his gaze from the sea and to the plump face with its smokeblue mobile eyes.
-- That fellow I was with in the Ship last night, said Buck Mulligan, says you have g.p.i. He's up in Dottyville with Conolly Norman. General paralysis of the insane.
He swept the mirror a half circle in the air to flash the tidings abroad in sunlight now radiant on the sea. His curling shaven lips laughed and the edges of his white glittering teeth. Laughter seized all his strong wellknit trunk.
-- Look at yourself, he said, you dreadful bard.
Stephen bent forward and peered at the mirror held out to him, cleft by a crooked crack, hair on end. As he and others see me. Who chose this face for me? This dogsbody to rid of vermin. It asks me too.
-- I pinched it out of the skivvy's room, Buck Mulligan said. It does her all right. The aunt always keeps plain-looking servants for Malachi. Lead him not into temptation. And her name is Ursula.
Laughing again, he brought the mirror away from Stephen's peering eyes.
-- The rage of Caliban at not seeing his face in a mirror, he said. If Wilde were only alive to see you.
Drawing back and pointing, Stephen said with bitterness:
But a lovely mummer, he murmured to himself. Kinch, the loveliest mummer of them all.
He shaved evenly and with care, in silence, seriously.
Stephen, an elbow rested on the jagged granite, leaned his palm against his brow and gazed at the fraying edge of his shiny black coat-sleeve. Pain, that was not yet the pain of love, fretted his heart. Silently, in a dream she had come to him after her death, her wasted body within its loose brown grave- clothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath, that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of wetted ashes. Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the sea hailed as a great sweet mother by the well-fed voice beside him. The ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. A bowl of white china had stood beside her deathbed holding the green sluggish bile which she had torn up from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting.
Buck Mulligan wiped again his razorblade.
-- Ah, poor dogsbody, he said in a kind voice. I must give you a shirt and few noserags. How are the secondhand breeks?
-- They fit well enough, Stephen answered.
Buck Mulligan attacked the hollow beneath his underlip.
-- The mockery of it, he said contentedly, secondleg they should be. God knows what poxy bowsy left them off. I have a lovely pair with a hair stripe, grey. You'll look spiffing in them. I'm not joking, Kinch. You look damn well when you're dressed.
-- Thanks, Stephen said. I can't wear them if they are grey.
-- He can't wear them, Buck Mulligan told his face in the mirror. Etiquette is etiquette. He kills his mother but he can't wear grey trousers.
He folded his razor neatly and with stroking palps of fingers felt the smooth skin.
Stephen turned his gaze from the sea and to the plump face with its smokeblue mobile eyes.
-- That fellow I was with in the Ship last night, said Buck Mulligan, says you have g.p.i. He's up in Dottyville with Conolly Norman. General paralysis of the insane.
He swept the mirror a half circle in the air to flash the tidings abroad in sunlight now radiant on the sea. His curling shaven lips laughed and the edges of his white glittering teeth. Laughter seized all his strong wellknit trunk.
-- Look at yourself, he said, you dreadful bard.
Stephen bent forward and peered at the mirror held out to him, cleft by a crooked crack, hair on end. As he and others see me. Who chose this face for me? This dogsbody to rid of vermin. It asks me too.
-- I pinched it out of the skivvy's room, Buck Mulligan said. It does her all right. The aunt always keeps plain-looking servants for Malachi. Lead him not into temptation. And her name is Ursula.
Laughing again, he brought the mirror away from Stephen's peering eyes.
-- The rage of Caliban at not seeing his face in a mirror, he said. If Wilde were only alive to see you.
Drawing back and pointing, Stephen said with bitterness:
Why did I read this thread. It is like a Train Wreck you can't help but look at it. You know you should turn away and yet something compels you to stand a stare.
You read this tread that\s it. Somewhere you maby know that the future is digital and that architecture shuld use those new tools, that don\t go squarebox to paper in rows and attributes, maby you know we shuld have nice houses in a new architecture, one that bring you a house four times as strong, maby you want your brother to have one.
Anyway this is obvious to anyone who read but don\t forget your eyes as they are my best option ,you want new jobs and a new architecture, well this is where it can be found.
It is a symbol of Irish art. The cracked lookingglass of a Buck Mulligan suddenly linked his arm in Stephen's and walked with him round the tower, his razor and mirror clacking in the pocket where he had thrust them.
-- It's not fair to tease you like that, Kinch, is it? he said kindly. God knows you have more spirit than any of them.
Parried again. He fears the lancet of my art as I fear that of his. The cold steelpen.
-- Cracked lookingglass of a servant. Tell that to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a guinea. He's stinking with money and thinks you're not a gentleman. His old fellow made his tin by selling jalap to Zulus or some bloody swindle or other. God, Kinch, if you and I could only work together we might do something for the island. Hellenise it.
Cranly's arm. His arm.
-- And to think of your having to beg from these swine. I'm the only one that knows what you are. Why don't you trust me more? What have you up your nose against me? Is it Haines? If he makes any noise here I'll bring down Seymour and we'll give him a ragging worse than they gave Clive Kempthorpe.
Young shouts of moneyed voices in Clive Kempthorpe's rooms. Palefaces: they hold their ribs with laughter, one clasping another, O, I shall expire! Break the news to her gently, Aubrey! I shall die! With slit ribbons of his shirt whipping the air he hops and hobbles round the table, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the tailor's shears. A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. I don't want to be debagged! Don't you play the giddy ox with me!
Shouts from the open window startling evening in the quadrangle. A deaf gardener, aproned, masked with Matthew Arnold's face, pushes his mower on the sombre lawn watching narrowly the dancing motes of grasshalms.
To ourselves... new paganism... omphalos.
-- Let him stay, Stephen said. There's nothing wrong with him except at night.
-- Then what is it? Buck Mulligan asked impatiently. Cough it up. I'm quite frank with you. What have you against me now?
They halted, looking towards the blunt cape of Bray Head that lay on the water like the snout of a sleeping whale. Stephen freed his arm quietly.
-- Do you wish me to tell you? he asked.
-- Yes, what is it? Buck Mulligan answered. I don't remember anything.
He looked in Stephen's face as he spoke. A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his eyes.
Stephen, depressed by his own voice, said:
-- Do you remember the first day I went to your house after my mother's death?
Buck Mulligan frowned quickly and said:
-- What? Where? I can't remember anything. I remember only ideas and sensations. Why? What happened in the name of God?
With this post I have not copyed and pasted somthing out of context to ruin a tread, maby betadinesutures think we shuld all read Olyssis and think it is as good throwing dirt to pick some off/topic works and paste it into this tread, ---- I find this is without originality and acturly quite childish as betadinesutures know that this is totaly off/topic for this tread.
Anyway if betadinesutures can mess up the tread I can put it back on track, decide for yourself if this tread shuld be on topic or if you allow somone to paste totaly off-topic text, that is just copyed and paste .
Atleast I contribuate with my own works. Please let me re/post from where beta started to flood the tread with off-topic novel text <
Hi
Now if somone find it an idea to have a nice design that oposed paper is digital projected better than anything while it instantly bring the actural simple building frame, if what you want is not the most complicated but the simplest digital manufactoring mashines and can make you an original chair or an original cottage at a third the cost four times stronger, if you are not lazy and scturly don\t want a nice cheap house, or think others shuld profit, then you don\t want the future, ---- that part of it, as even knowing the very best new method that bring you a house the shape of a lion while damn't develobing those new jobs ; where do you think you shuld find progress if you don't even dare invest -------- listen in theori it would cost a third but maby the production is not there, but some are and what architecture need, is a new form language .
This is what architecture is about for me if the actural avaible tools are avaible or not, if architecture applications produce paper or actural building compoments, if it do is it clever or stupid.
3D-HoneyComb is not stupid, as it just avait rules and develobment, this will make the gates before hell, but it also will build the wonders of heaven.
Ok I say sorry ; "sorry it is Digital"
I think you're misunderstanding the flooding by betadinesutures. People just want this thread to stop since it's not leading anywhere. This is supposed to be a discussion forum, yet any criticism is met with endless off-topic rants and escatological metaphors. Browse the other threads and you'll discover that people aren't at all negative against digital tools per se, but against oversimplification. We've seen and understood what 3D-H is by now, so please don't take negative reactions as a sign of fear of computers, as protective academism àla Pierre Bourdieu, neo-ludditism, or resistance to cheap housing.
I se you got the messeage, but flooding is just what it is, The tread was started not to oversimplify but point to some very basic facts about architecture, facts like just rewriting the known technikes into digital code, and then think this shuld be true innovative, realy there was a lot of questions I put forth that was never ansvered , like what other method do the trick and go strait from CAD to manufactoring.
Beside I find the flooding just the latest attemth that describe itself but ruin a tread nomatter what one or two think then thousands have read the tread but only a few seem to have taken patent on "anyones" oppinion based on arguments not very many real architects would even use. a-f are you sure that this tread havn't been ruined by some childish usenet fanits being bored in their pseudo political usenet group ?
a-f, it was my John Cage way of responding to questions - or responses - in my own fashion, much in the same way per has done here, ask him a question and you get a riddle. you know what is funny though, and this is no joke, i was watching PBS the other night and there was this show just before Frontline about dinosaurs, and one of the researchers name's was Per. now per this is quite the cowinkydink we have here, you call me betadinosaur and this Per researches dinosaurs - any relation? I will respond to your posts in whatever fashion i see fit, i will not respond they way you want because you never respond the way i want...
Acturly the problem is, that no one can start a serious discussion and show some exiting results, unless somone bored political fanatic come busting in, saying "do you think you are somone" , and after display all the resons why he himself do not display any just tiny piece of original works.
That's what destroy both the web and usenet, when some lame old dryass ,with not a single clue except what he read in some book, feel jeloux about what "that hippie" put on display, in this group just a couple of jokers as in many other groups, find their own oppinion so important that bullying, flooding arogance and tradisional academic protectivism is what reflect in their words.
Nothing genuine ,in danish we have a frase "joe upagainstanything" if it shuld be translated, ------- now these charecters who hide behind a false name, is those who taken over ,throving dirt of all sorts harassing anyone "who think they are somthing" , but jo it is so all over the web, the lame dryasses have so easy a game and it is as alway's easier to join up with the crowd.
Show some true originality and you have them all over your neck, as if this is what feed them, Follow the crowd that must be the true messeage, and those who do not seem to have no protection from the ones that run this board.
Yes, of course it has been partly ruined, but that always happens here. Consider the total amount of views, and I think the b-s ratio is quite low. Anyway, the image of the British Museum extension I posted was a quite brave attempt in computer aided manufacturing, whether one likes its neo-victorian look or not. Every little joint there (out of 1800 or so) is digitally calculated and laser-cut, precision welded in strips, and positioned with GPS. It also becomes evident that the geometric "idea" is never really given. The faceted roof is using a custom-made tesselation method in order to bridge differences in distances in an invisible manner. This is the reason why one should always be sceptical to methods that are presented as being universal.
the problem you seem to be missing here is that architects and artists that i know of in america don't walk around calling themselves geniuses. they don't shout at the top of their lungs for all to hear about their original ideas, how unique they are, and how they are the representation of Copernicus incarnate and we are the Vatican coming to throw them in prison...now that does not mean architects and artists don't have professional people promoting them - and maybe books, shows, and lectures feed their egos - but what you won't hear them doing or see them doing, is these people stomping their feet like petulant 5 year old children, claiming love me, love me see my visionary work, why don't you understand its true visionary and originality....THAT PER IS WHAT YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND, NO ONE HERE ON THIS BOARD HAS EVER DONE THAT, AND I DEFY YOU TO PROVE ME WRONG.
There, the challenge has been laid down, find me an example on this board of one of us claiming some throne of originality, and i will leave this thread alone.
Again sorry it is Digital.
Sorry it work.
Sorry that when you designed somthing on a screen with a modern CAD program, the concept is just to press a button and then it is there automaticly generated and ready for N.C cutting.
Betadinusaur seem to be way into Usenet now he say I am on usenet in some old dryass group , beta you se ghosts but it also tell where you spend your time ,then you post your theories in this group ;
"i was watching PBS the other night and there was this show just before Frontline about dinosaurs, and one of the researchers name's was Per. now per this is quite the cowinkydink we have here, you call me betadinosaur and this Per researches dinosaurs "
Nonsense, you don't even refere a link just post out yeat another bucket of dirt, but don't it just tell what's realy on your mind, and it is not architecture.
"i was watching PBS the other night and there was this show just before Frontline about dinosaurs, and one of the researchers name's was Per. now per this is quite the cowinkydink we have here, you call me betadinosaur and this Per researches dinosaurs "
Crap, nonsense coward yourself false name usenet fanatic.
Bet you just hate graphics and think everything must be plain text and we all shuld use Linux even 98 pct. are quite glad just the CAD program work. You are just chasing what you se as "Hippies" arn't you, you spend your time discussing political issues as seen from your bw screen , bet you have an old 8088 and a 9.6 K modem so you never even visited the links.
Not my favorite writer , we have another danish writer who declared "Jante Loven", --- The Jante village law, the law that restrict anyone "who think he is anything" the one "who think he is wiser than us", A number of "rules" that would work just fine on Usenet and have infected this place of visions and progress.
I se if I can find it in english.
Ah Gustav, but I am a scandinavian social democrat, so don't start another fight here... :) Btw. Aksel Sandmose's son Jörgen Sandemose has just written a book about his father, not very flattering. Apparently he is described as a an alcoholic, pathological liar, egoist, bigamist, elitist, even paedophile and potential murderer. Anyway, his Jantelov can bestly be described as the elitist's contempt of the working class.
"The tread was started not to oversimplify but point to some very basic facts about architecture..."
Actually the thread was started with the title "Hi all you fancy graphics lovers" and I don't think anyone is as of yet to see any fancy graphics to love. Was this an intentional form of deception on the part of Per??
Perhaps...
a-f please stay in reality your own attitude is not very progressive and proberly colored by your own fanatism, still quite a sad one why is it you don't even know what architects do.
Next line of the web and usenet Jante village law could write ;
"on Usenet and Web We can be one old dryass with two false names ,now take that you fancy hippie.
"Actually the thread was started with the title "Hi all you fancy graphics lovers" and I don't think anyone is as of yet to see any fancy graphics to love. Was this an intentional form of deception on the part of Per??
Perhaps..."
Perhaps you are refering the 8's Jante Law that write ;
8.
Thou art not entitled to laugh at us.
Or maby rather the 2-3 and 4 of the Jante Laws ;
2.
Thou shalt not presume that thou art as good as us.
3.
Thou shalt not presume that thou art any wiser than us.
4.
Thou shalt never indulge in the conceit of imagining that thou art better than us.
Now Pixelhore what are you supporting the fantastic new options or your own limited emagination.
Did they say things heavier than air would never fly, and ships out of iron would ofcaurse sink, take your stand even you don't go under your own name, you can still show guts.
I'm all for new ideas, and earlier in this thread (perhaps somewhere in the first 100 or so entries) I tried to get the point across that you needed to prove your 3D-H method beyond just the same images you've been showing from the beginning, and that there is more to a building than just the structural frame. Not long ago you talked about a fire protection system, but just posted an image that doesn't really support what you were talking about and needed some further explanation. If you want to get your idea across, you need to put in more work outside of the 3D image realm. For what you're talking about, a simple 2 dimensional graphic (because thats all they are, even if they are derived from a 3D model) just isn't telling the story properly.
But unlike you, I'm not claiming to have some new amazing system that everyone is misunderstanding. I don't need to post an image or have any guts because I'm not claiming to have revolutionary ideas. I'm not the one trying to sell anything or to change any minds. I don't have anything to prove to you or to anyone (well maybe to myself, but thats completely different). This is your thread that you started and you've made it quite obvioius that its all about you.
And how do we know that Per Corell is your real name and does it matter if it is? To me names like "a-f" are more real because of the valid comments they've posted on Archinect in the past. I'm not saying that you don't have guts (like you're implying about a lot of other people) because you put yourself out on the line here, and I can respect that. But your name calling and personal attacks do nothing to further your cause.
Hi all you fancy graphics lovers
Now my brain is boiling!
for Per;
How long is Haines going to stay in this tower?
Buck Mulligan showed a shaven cheek over his right shoulder.
-- God, isn't he dreadful? he said frankly. A ponderous Saxon. He thinks you're not a gentleman. God, these bloody English. Bursting with money and indigestion. Because he comes from Oxford. You know, Dedalus; you have the real Oxford manner. He can't make you out. O, my name for you is the best: Kinch, the knife-blade.
He shaved warily over his chin.
-- He was raving all night about a black panther, Stephen said. Where is his guncase?
-- A woful lunatic, Mulligan said. Were you in a funk?
-- I was, Stephen said with energy and growing fear. Out here in the dark with a man I don't know raving and moaning to himself about shooting a black panther. You saved men from drowning. I'm not a hero, however. If he stays on here I am off.
Buck Mulligan frowned at the lather on his razorblade. He hopped down from his perch and began to search his trouser pockets hastily.
-- Scutter, he cried thickly.
He came over to the gunrest and, thrusting a hand into Stephen's upper pocket, said:
-- Lend us a loan of your noserag to wipe my razor.
Stephen suffered him to pull out and hold up on show by its corner a dirty crumpled handkerchief. Buck Mulligan wiped the razorblade neatly. Then, gazing over the handkerchief, he said:
-- The bard's noserag. A new art colour for our Irish poets: snotgreen. You can almost taste it, can't you?
He mounted to the parapet again and gazed out over Dublin bay, his fair oakpale hair stirring slightly.
-- God, he said quietly. Isn't the sea what Algy calls it: a grey sweet mother? The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea. Epi oinopa ponton. Ah, Dedalus, the Greeks. I must teach you. You must read them in the original. Thalatta! Thalatta! She is our great sweet mother. Come and look.
Stephen stood up and went over to the parapet. Leaning on it he looked down on the water and on the mailboat clearing the harbour mouth of Kingstown.
-- Our mighty mother, Buck Mulligan said.
He turned abruptly his great searching eyes from the sea to Stephen's face.
-- The aunt thinks you killed your mother, he said. That's why she won't let me have anything to do with you.
-- Someone killed her, Stephen said gloomily.
-- You could have knelt down, damn it, Kinch, when your dying mother asked you, Buck Mulligan said. I'm hyperborean as much as you. But to think of your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for her. And you refused. There is something sinister in you.
He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. A tolerant smile curled his lips.
Hi
Now I know this is not easy but try turn it upside down se it just as an example but know that this way you can have all frames manufactored and water filled.
so it is an inverse boat
Hi
Sorry but I need to ask you use all the emagination you can ,you se just a simple thing as doubling up the sections will change the concept compleatly ------- maby you will say "yes but what a job" ; now please remember that all we do, it to press a button, then to make doubled sections into tubes shuld not be understood so, that we just now cut standard tubes no, but we can make the frames replaced with tubes that can be produced quite effectivly, now how many water filled tubes do we need not all frames need to be that ------- beside if you think that in a highrise this will caurse a preasure problem, then think about that ine frame do not go from top to bottom producing 30 at, preasure, as when sections cur 45 deg transversing the structure, it maby just cover from 90 meter to 130 meter producing a way lower preasure.
Btw making your brain produce steam will only happen when you now go one step further and double the frames once again leaving one tube inside another so you can have a layer of water with a core of air or when you produce a flying cooling element.
Hi
Sure it is a boat upside down, but it also are the frames a testbench that with just a bit emagination will show many other applications, I alway's used boats as testbench but this don't mean that technikes used in shipsbuilding can not be used in space or on ground, a boat is just that much stronger fit in with nature and work with nature in a way you architects shuld wonder.
Hi
Now would it be better that I show the applications in a context of non-gravity. In a fantasy world where the wind shuld generate the pover for the highrise, leaving those living there seasick when the house rock in the wind to generate the electricity by pietzo electrics.
No I think a boat is a much better down to earth testbench.
But a lovely mummer, he murmured to himself. Kinch, the loveliest mummer of them all.
He shaved evenly and with care, in silence, seriously.
Stephen, an elbow rested on the jagged granite, leaned his palm against his brow and gazed at the fraying edge of his shiny black coat-sleeve. Pain, that was not yet the pain of love, fretted his heart. Silently, in a dream she had come to him after her death, her wasted body within its loose brown grave- clothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath, that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of wetted ashes. Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the sea hailed as a great sweet mother by the well-fed voice beside him. The ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. A bowl of white china had stood beside her deathbed holding the green sluggish bile which she had torn up from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting.
Buck Mulligan wiped again his razorblade.
-- Ah, poor dogsbody, he said in a kind voice. I must give you a shirt and few noserags. How are the secondhand breeks?
-- They fit well enough, Stephen answered.
Buck Mulligan attacked the hollow beneath his underlip.
-- The mockery of it, he said contentedly, secondleg they should be. God knows what poxy bowsy left them off. I have a lovely pair with a hair stripe, grey. You'll look spiffing in them. I'm not joking, Kinch. You look damn well when you're dressed.
-- Thanks, Stephen said. I can't wear them if they are grey.
-- He can't wear them, Buck Mulligan told his face in the mirror. Etiquette is etiquette. He kills his mother but he can't wear grey trousers.
He folded his razor neatly and with stroking palps of fingers felt the smooth skin.
Stephen turned his gaze from the sea and to the plump face with its smokeblue mobile eyes.
-- That fellow I was with in the Ship last night, said Buck Mulligan, says you have g.p.i. He's up in Dottyville with Conolly Norman. General paralysis of the insane.
He swept the mirror a half circle in the air to flash the tidings abroad in sunlight now radiant on the sea. His curling shaven lips laughed and the edges of his white glittering teeth. Laughter seized all his strong wellknit trunk.
-- Look at yourself, he said, you dreadful bard.
Stephen bent forward and peered at the mirror held out to him, cleft by a crooked crack, hair on end. As he and others see me. Who chose this face for me? This dogsbody to rid of vermin. It asks me too.
-- I pinched it out of the skivvy's room, Buck Mulligan said. It does her all right. The aunt always keeps plain-looking servants for Malachi. Lead him not into temptation. And her name is Ursula.
Laughing again, he brought the mirror away from Stephen's peering eyes.
-- The rage of Caliban at not seeing his face in a mirror, he said. If Wilde were only alive to see you.
Drawing back and pointing, Stephen said with bitterness:
I've been told we need to learn to harness the energy of the ether that is free and all around us. Wind? Thhhhhppppp.
3D-HoneyComb
make it happen
Make it happen
Projecting the assembly
Projecting the assembly
Unfold the vision
Unfold the vision
Into the real thing
Roger that, Tower.
But a lovely mummer, he murmured to himself. Kinch, the loveliest mummer of them all.
He shaved evenly and with care, in silence, seriously.
Stephen, an elbow rested on the jagged granite, leaned his palm against his brow and gazed at the fraying edge of his shiny black coat-sleeve. Pain, that was not yet the pain of love, fretted his heart. Silently, in a dream she had come to him after her death, her wasted body within its loose brown grave- clothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath, that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of wetted ashes. Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the sea hailed as a great sweet mother by the well-fed voice beside him. The ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. A bowl of white china had stood beside her deathbed holding the green sluggish bile which she had torn up from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting.
Buck Mulligan wiped again his razorblade.
-- Ah, poor dogsbody, he said in a kind voice. I must give you a shirt and few noserags. How are the secondhand breeks?
-- They fit well enough, Stephen answered.
Buck Mulligan attacked the hollow beneath his underlip.
-- The mockery of it, he said contentedly, secondleg they should be. God knows what poxy bowsy left them off. I have a lovely pair with a hair stripe, grey. You'll look spiffing in them. I'm not joking, Kinch. You look damn well when you're dressed.
-- Thanks, Stephen said. I can't wear them if they are grey.
-- He can't wear them, Buck Mulligan told his face in the mirror. Etiquette is etiquette. He kills his mother but he can't wear grey trousers.
He folded his razor neatly and with stroking palps of fingers felt the smooth skin.
Stephen turned his gaze from the sea and to the plump face with its smokeblue mobile eyes.
-- That fellow I was with in the Ship last night, said Buck Mulligan, says you have g.p.i. He's up in Dottyville with Conolly Norman. General paralysis of the insane.
He swept the mirror a half circle in the air to flash the tidings abroad in sunlight now radiant on the sea. His curling shaven lips laughed and the edges of his white glittering teeth. Laughter seized all his strong wellknit trunk.
-- Look at yourself, he said, you dreadful bard.
Stephen bent forward and peered at the mirror held out to him, cleft by a crooked crack, hair on end. As he and others see me. Who chose this face for me? This dogsbody to rid of vermin. It asks me too.
-- I pinched it out of the skivvy's room, Buck Mulligan said. It does her all right. The aunt always keeps plain-looking servants for Malachi. Lead him not into temptation. And her name is Ursula.
Laughing again, he brought the mirror away from Stephen's peering eyes.
-- The rage of Caliban at not seeing his face in a mirror, he said. If Wilde were only alive to see you.
Drawing back and pointing, Stephen said with bitterness:
anybody need this?
Why did I read this thread. It is like a Train Wreck you can't help but look at it. You know you should turn away and yet something compels you to stand a stare.
Hi
You read this tread that\s it. Somewhere you maby know that the future is digital and that architecture shuld use those new tools, that don\t go squarebox to paper in rows and attributes, maby you know we shuld have nice houses in a new architecture, one that bring you a house four times as strong, maby you want your brother to have one.
Anyway this is obvious to anyone who read but don\t forget your eyes as they are my best option ,you want new jobs and a new architecture, well this is where it can be found.
Drawing back and pointing, Stephen said with bitterness:
"Hi"
Hi none of you jokers had the guts like this lady
Poor academics
It is a symbol of Irish art. The cracked lookingglass of a Buck Mulligan suddenly linked his arm in Stephen's and walked with him round the tower, his razor and mirror clacking in the pocket where he had thrust them.
-- It's not fair to tease you like that, Kinch, is it? he said kindly. God knows you have more spirit than any of them.
Parried again. He fears the lancet of my art as I fear that of his. The cold steelpen.
-- Cracked lookingglass of a servant. Tell that to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a guinea. He's stinking with money and thinks you're not a gentleman. His old fellow made his tin by selling jalap to Zulus or some bloody swindle or other. God, Kinch, if you and I could only work together we might do something for the island. Hellenise it.
Cranly's arm. His arm.
-- And to think of your having to beg from these swine. I'm the only one that knows what you are. Why don't you trust me more? What have you up your nose against me? Is it Haines? If he makes any noise here I'll bring down Seymour and we'll give him a ragging worse than they gave Clive Kempthorpe.
Young shouts of moneyed voices in Clive Kempthorpe's rooms. Palefaces: they hold their ribs with laughter, one clasping another, O, I shall expire! Break the news to her gently, Aubrey! I shall die! With slit ribbons of his shirt whipping the air he hops and hobbles round the table, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the tailor's shears. A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. I don't want to be debagged! Don't you play the giddy ox with me!
Shouts from the open window startling evening in the quadrangle. A deaf gardener, aproned, masked with Matthew Arnold's face, pushes his mower on the sombre lawn watching narrowly the dancing motes of grasshalms.
To ourselves... new paganism... omphalos.
-- Let him stay, Stephen said. There's nothing wrong with him except at night.
-- Then what is it? Buck Mulligan asked impatiently. Cough it up. I'm quite frank with you. What have you against me now?
They halted, looking towards the blunt cape of Bray Head that lay on the water like the snout of a sleeping whale. Stephen freed his arm quietly.
-- Do you wish me to tell you? he asked.
-- Yes, what is it? Buck Mulligan answered. I don't remember anything.
He looked in Stephen's face as he spoke. A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his eyes.
Stephen, depressed by his own voice, said:
-- Do you remember the first day I went to your house after my mother's death?
Buck Mulligan frowned quickly and said:
-- What? Where? I can't remember anything. I remember only ideas and sensations. Why? What happened in the name of God?
Hi
With this post I have not copyed and pasted somthing out of context to ruin a tread, maby betadinesutures think we shuld all read Olyssis and think it is as good throwing dirt to pick some off/topic works and paste it into this tread, ---- I find this is without originality and acturly quite childish as betadinesutures know that this is totaly off/topic for this tread.
Anyway if betadinesutures can mess up the tread I can put it back on track, decide for yourself if this tread shuld be on topic or if you allow somone to paste totaly off-topic text, that is just copyed and paste .
Atleast I contribuate with my own works. Please let me re/post from where beta started to flood the tread with off-topic novel text <
Hi
Now if somone find it an idea to have a nice design that oposed paper is digital projected better than anything while it instantly bring the actural simple building frame, if what you want is not the most complicated but the simplest digital manufactoring mashines and can make you an original chair or an original cottage at a third the cost four times stronger, if you are not lazy and scturly don\t want a nice cheap house, or think others shuld profit, then you don\t want the future, ---- that part of it, as even knowing the very best new method that bring you a house the shape of a lion while damn't develobing those new jobs ; where do you think you shuld find progress if you don't even dare invest -------- listen in theori it would cost a third but maby the production is not there, but some are and what architecture need, is a new form language .
This is what architecture is about for me if the actural avaible tools are avaible or not, if architecture applications produce paper or actural building compoments, if it do is it clever or stupid.
3D-HoneyComb is not stupid, as it just avait rules and develobment, this will make the gates before hell, but it also will build the wonders of heaven.
Ok I say sorry ; "sorry it is Digital"
b
I think you're misunderstanding the flooding by betadinesutures. People just want this thread to stop since it's not leading anywhere. This is supposed to be a discussion forum, yet any criticism is met with endless off-topic rants and escatological metaphors. Browse the other threads and you'll discover that people aren't at all negative against digital tools per se, but against oversimplification. We've seen and understood what 3D-H is by now, so please don't take negative reactions as a sign of fear of computers, as protective academism àla Pierre Bourdieu, neo-ludditism, or resistance to cheap housing.
Hi
I se you got the messeage, but flooding is just what it is, The tread was started not to oversimplify but point to some very basic facts about architecture, facts like just rewriting the known technikes into digital code, and then think this shuld be true innovative, realy there was a lot of questions I put forth that was never ansvered , like what other method do the trick and go strait from CAD to manufactoring.
Beside I find the flooding just the latest attemth that describe itself but ruin a tread nomatter what one or two think then thousands have read the tread but only a few seem to have taken patent on "anyones" oppinion based on arguments not very many real architects would even use. a-f are you sure that this tread havn't been ruined by some childish usenet fanits being bored in their pseudo political usenet group ?
Read the tread and you se .
a-f, it was my John Cage way of responding to questions - or responses - in my own fashion, much in the same way per has done here, ask him a question and you get a riddle. you know what is funny though, and this is no joke, i was watching PBS the other night and there was this show just before Frontline about dinosaurs, and one of the researchers name's was Per. now per this is quite the cowinkydink we have here, you call me betadinosaur and this Per researches dinosaurs - any relation? I will respond to your posts in whatever fashion i see fit, i will not respond they way you want because you never respond the way i want...
Hi
Acturly the problem is, that no one can start a serious discussion and show some exiting results, unless somone bored political fanatic come busting in, saying "do you think you are somone" , and after display all the resons why he himself do not display any just tiny piece of original works.
That's what destroy both the web and usenet, when some lame old dryass ,with not a single clue except what he read in some book, feel jeloux about what "that hippie" put on display, in this group just a couple of jokers as in many other groups, find their own oppinion so important that bullying, flooding arogance and tradisional academic protectivism is what reflect in their words.
Nothing genuine ,in danish we have a frase "joe upagainstanything" if it shuld be translated, ------- now these charecters who hide behind a false name, is those who taken over ,throving dirt of all sorts harassing anyone "who think they are somthing" , but jo it is so all over the web, the lame dryasses have so easy a game and it is as alway's easier to join up with the crowd.
Show some true originality and you have them all over your neck, as if this is what feed them, Follow the crowd that must be the true messeage, and those who do not seem to have no protection from the ones that run this board.
Yes, of course it has been partly ruined, but that always happens here. Consider the total amount of views, and I think the b-s ratio is quite low. Anyway, the image of the British Museum extension I posted was a quite brave attempt in computer aided manufacturing, whether one likes its neo-victorian look or not. Every little joint there (out of 1800 or so) is digitally calculated and laser-cut, precision welded in strips, and positioned with GPS. It also becomes evident that the geometric "idea" is never really given. The faceted roof is using a custom-made tesselation method in order to bridge differences in distances in an invisible manner. This is the reason why one should always be sceptical to methods that are presented as being universal.
betadinesutures:
Ha, yes and I can't even snap to perpendicular ("PER") anymore without thinking about 3D-H.
the problem you seem to be missing here is that architects and artists that i know of in america don't walk around calling themselves geniuses. they don't shout at the top of their lungs for all to hear about their original ideas, how unique they are, and how they are the representation of Copernicus incarnate and we are the Vatican coming to throw them in prison...now that does not mean architects and artists don't have professional people promoting them - and maybe books, shows, and lectures feed their egos - but what you won't hear them doing or see them doing, is these people stomping their feet like petulant 5 year old children, claiming love me, love me see my visionary work, why don't you understand its true visionary and originality....THAT PER IS WHAT YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND, NO ONE HERE ON THIS BOARD HAS EVER DONE THAT, AND I DEFY YOU TO PROVE ME WRONG.
There, the challenge has been laid down, find me an example on this board of one of us claiming some throne of originality, and i will leave this thread alone.
the comment above was to per's above...
Hi
Again sorry it is Digital.
Sorry it work.
Sorry that when you designed somthing on a screen with a modern CAD program, the concept is just to press a button and then it is there automaticly generated and ready for N.C cutting.
Betadinusaur seem to be way into Usenet now he say I am on usenet in some old dryass group , beta you se ghosts but it also tell where you spend your time ,then you post your theories in this group ;
"i was watching PBS the other night and there was this show just before Frontline about dinosaurs, and one of the researchers name's was Per. now per this is quite the cowinkydink we have here, you call me betadinosaur and this Per researches dinosaurs "
Nonsense, you don't even refere a link just post out yeat another bucket of dirt, but don't it just tell what's realy on your mind, and it is not architecture.
Hi
Betadinusaur ;
"i was watching PBS the other night and there was this show just before Frontline about dinosaurs, and one of the researchers name's was Per. now per this is quite the cowinkydink we have here, you call me betadinosaur and this Per researches dinosaurs "
Crap, nonsense coward yourself false name usenet fanatic.
Bet you just hate graphics and think everything must be plain text and we all shuld use Linux even 98 pct. are quite glad just the CAD program work. You are just chasing what you se as "Hippies" arn't you, you spend your time discussing political issues as seen from your bw screen , bet you have an old 8088 and a 9.6 K modem so you never even visited the links.
Geez Per, chill out, relax with some Morten Koch or so...
Not my favorite writer , we have another danish writer who declared "Jante Loven", --- The Jante village law, the law that restrict anyone "who think he is anything" the one "who think he is wiser than us", A number of "rules" that would work just fine on Usenet and have infected this place of visions and progress.
I se if I can find it in english.
that was very mean Per
Hi
The Jante Village law in english declared by the danish poet Axel Sandemose:
1.
Thou shalt not presume that thou art anyone [important].
2.
Thou shalt not presume that thou art as good as us.
3.
Thou shalt not presume that thou art any wiser than us.
4.
Thou shalt never indulge in the conceit of imagining that thou art better than us.
5.
Thou shalt not presume that thou art more knowledgeable than us.
6.
Thou shalt not presume that thou art more than us [in any way].
7.
Thou shalt not presume that that thou art going to amount to anything.
8.
Thou art not entitled to laugh at us.
9.
Thou shalt never imagine that anyone cares about thee.
10.
Thou shalt not suppose that thou can teach us anything
Hi
Esp paragraf 8 is important guess why.
I'm not sure if this epitome of scandinavian social democracy is applicable to a mostly american forum, Per.
I've lived it and see it here. It may be described better as "social fascism".
It proberly today shuld have a few more lines about the Web.
One line I used in a discussion once is ;
First we piss on you then we say you stink.
Where is my delete thread button - damnit.
You can't delete reality then you also lose the visions.
Remember the Vision is real.
Ah Gustav, but I am a scandinavian social democrat, so don't start another fight here... :) Btw. Aksel Sandmose's son Jörgen Sandemose has just written a book about his father, not very flattering. Apparently he is described as a an alcoholic, pathological liar, egoist, bigamist, elitist, even paedophile and potential murderer. Anyway, his Jantelov can bestly be described as the elitist's contempt of the working class.
From Per's previous post:
"The tread was started not to oversimplify but point to some very basic facts about architecture..."
Actually the thread was started with the title "Hi all you fancy graphics lovers" and I don't think anyone is as of yet to see any fancy graphics to love. Was this an intentional form of deception on the part of Per??
Perhaps...
Hi
a-f please stay in reality your own attitude is not very progressive and proberly colored by your own fanatism, still quite a sad one why is it you don't even know what architects do.
Next line of the web and usenet Jante village law could write ;
"on Usenet and Web We can be one old dryass with two false names ,now take that you fancy hippie.
Jeez Per, you're being a real asshole...
Hi
"Actually the thread was started with the title "Hi all you fancy graphics lovers" and I don't think anyone is as of yet to see any fancy graphics to love. Was this an intentional form of deception on the part of Per??
Perhaps..."
Perhaps you are refering the 8's Jante Law that write ;
8.
Thou art not entitled to laugh at us.
Or maby rather the 2-3 and 4 of the Jante Laws ;
2.
Thou shalt not presume that thou art as good as us.
3.
Thou shalt not presume that thou art any wiser than us.
4.
Thou shalt never indulge in the conceit of imagining that thou art better than us.
"a-f please stay in reality"
Hey, I even provided a link to prove it: the book is there. Further questions that you have can be directed to Jörgen himself.
"your own attitude is not very progressive and proberly colored by your own fanatism"
Wow, it's the first time I hear social democracy and an interest in geometry described as "fanatism".
"why is it you don't even know what architects do."
Oh no, that M.Arch document of mine must be a fake, and the office I'm sitting in doesn't exist!
Then Pixelhore prove me wrong, put up somthing better yourself.
Or you maby agrea to the 11 Jante Law;
11.
First we piss on you then we say you stink
Nope, thats not it at all. I'm pretty sure my post is pretty self-explanatory and doesn't need any post-conceptualizing from you.
Now Pixelhore what are you supporting the fantastic new options or your own limited emagination.
Did they say things heavier than air would never fly, and ships out of iron would ofcaurse sink, take your stand even you don't go under your own name, you can still show guts.
Hi
"Nope, thats not it at all. I'm pretty sure my post is pretty self-explanatory and doesn't need any post-conceptualizing from you."
Right but they still are only words, show somthing show some guts.
Per:
I'm all for new ideas, and earlier in this thread (perhaps somewhere in the first 100 or so entries) I tried to get the point across that you needed to prove your 3D-H method beyond just the same images you've been showing from the beginning, and that there is more to a building than just the structural frame. Not long ago you talked about a fire protection system, but just posted an image that doesn't really support what you were talking about and needed some further explanation. If you want to get your idea across, you need to put in more work outside of the 3D image realm. For what you're talking about, a simple 2 dimensional graphic (because thats all they are, even if they are derived from a 3D model) just isn't telling the story properly.
But unlike you, I'm not claiming to have some new amazing system that everyone is misunderstanding. I don't need to post an image or have any guts because I'm not claiming to have revolutionary ideas. I'm not the one trying to sell anything or to change any minds. I don't have anything to prove to you or to anyone (well maybe to myself, but thats completely different). This is your thread that you started and you've made it quite obvioius that its all about you.
And how do we know that Per Corell is your real name and does it matter if it is? To me names like "a-f" are more real because of the valid comments they've posted on Archinect in the past. I'm not saying that you don't have guts (like you're implying about a lot of other people) because you put yourself out on the line here, and I can respect that. But your name calling and personal attacks do nothing to further your cause.
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