Recently in Other Category
I've never given a PowerPoint presentation in my life but I've sat through more than a few of them, with varying degrees of interest. And that's no surprise, since with millions of presentations being delivered every day, at any given moment thousands of people across the globe are assembled in darkened rooms to gaze in wonder at—or more likely slumber through—yet another mediocre presentation. There's something poignant about this human drive to share a point of view, when the odds are so stacked against its chances of succeeding.

I admit that I haven't paid the slightest attention to the growing concern in the creative community about the Shawn Bentley Orphan Works Act. But having just stumbled across a cogent explanation of what lies behind the Act and what the possible outcome could be for all visual artists, I'm now, as Ed Anger would say, "pig-biting mad." And why is that, dear reader? Because the underlying intent is nothing less than the creation of an administrative cloud of Kafkaesque proportions that would have the delightful effects of stifling creative visual expression of all kinds and putting in place an Orwellian monitoring program, all while shoveling a boatload of money into the pockets of nebulous private enterprises. Hey, that's three literary references in one paragraph!

While Napoleon wasn't thinking of the rough and tumble world of the inventor when he uttered these words, history has failed to acknowledge the seminal work of more than one bright spark. But sometimes the record is set straight.

That's right, we're talking to you. Yes you, the one who visits the Graphics.com Network blogs regularly to glean pearls of wisdom from the dedicated blogging team. You've learnt much, haven't you? You've been the beneficiary of our collective insights, correct? And yet, have you taken the time to acknowledge our ceaseless efforts on your behalf, even once? Well, have you? We thought not. Well, buster, we've had enough of your kind. So get typing. Now. We have your IP address, we know where you live. So when fuzzball here gets it, expect a Fed Ex package with the gruesome remains. That's right, the demise of the old fleabag will be on your hands. There's just one way out of this dilemma—type, type like the wind. What are you waiting for? Post that comment! We are not kidding.
Last week I expressed my dismay with the decision of my adopted city of Lyon to provide outdoor advertising giant JCDecaux with apparent carte blanche to plaster the historic downtown area with ultra-modern sliding billboards, in exchange for installing and maintaining an extensive network of free bicycle stations. It was my frustration with this mushroom-like overnight proliferation of intrusive signage that prompted my interest in a recent book from Mark Batty Publisher that held out the promise of a grass-roots movement from those who have had their fill of the global trend to make our common urban spaces little more than an opportunity to bombard us with product pitches.
I'm a long-time Windows user. How long? Back to the 80s when PageMaker needed a runtime version of Windows to load on PCs. You might then think that I have some kind of affinity for Windows and the boxes it runs on. But you would be wrong. Fact is, Windows itself is neutral at best, annoying at worst, and historically the hardware it runs on is totally banal. But you see, that's just the way I like it.
It's been a while since I last stood in front of a small group of bright-eyed students and began my opening remarks for a two-day class devoted to graphics and publishing applications, but I remain interested in the topic of graphic arts training. And since the dawn of the Web, I've been convinced of its power to help those involved in design learn new skills and work more effectively. Maybe it's the conjunction of broadband penetration, coupled with the growing sophistication of rich media delivery capabilities, but whatever the reasons we seem to have arrived at the point where online graphics and publishing training has hit critical mass. At least that was my thought while checking out some recent approaches to delivering online training.
Can there be bacon, without eggs? Batman, without Robin? Okay, scratch that last one. But how about graphic design without words? As humans we live in language, we shape our individual and collective realities with words, so it's no surprise that mastery of the linguistic aspects of design, while often neglected, is critical for the success of any piece. Not your responsibility, as a designer? Perhaps it's your opportunity.

