The Wonderful, Wooden Marble Adding Machine

Cana­di­an soft­ware devel­op­er Matthias Wan­del enjoys spend­ing his spare time cre­at­ing wood­en con­trap­tions that com­bine a child­like sense of won­der with an engi­neer’s knowl­edge of mechan­ics. One of his most pop­u­lar cre­ations so far is this six-bit bina­ry adding machine, which has tal­lied near­ly one and a half mil­lion views on YouTube. As Rick Regan explains at Explor­ing Bina­ry, the machine func­tions like a low-tech inte­grat­ed cir­cuit. “It uses wood instead of sil­i­con, grav­i­ty instead of volt­age, and mar­bles instead of cur­rent,” he writes. “We don’t need no stinkin’ CMOS!”

The idea came to Wan­del after he noticed that one of his ear­li­er mar­ble machines incor­po­rat­ed log­ic-like ele­ments. “It had occurred to me,” he writes on his wood­work­ing site, “that per­haps with an insane amount of per­se­ver­ance, it might be pos­si­ble to build a whole com­put­er that runs on mar­bles.”  To illus­trate the point Wan­del built the adding machine, which stores the bina­ry states of six bits and can add num­bers from one to 63. The result may be more cool than prac­ti­cal, writes Regan, “but it cer­tain­ly is edu­ca­tion­al. It illus­trates basic prin­ci­ples of bina­ry num­bers, bina­ry arith­metic, and bina­ry log­ic.”

You can learn more about the machine on Wan­del’s Web page, and about the under­ly­ing log­ic and math­e­mat­ics at Explor­ing Bina­ry.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Calculus Lifesaver: A Free Online Course from Princeton

It’s rare that we get to cov­er math here. So here it goes: Adri­an Ban­ner, a lec­tur­er at Prince­ton, has put togeth­er a lec­ture series (in video) that will help you mas­ter cal­cu­lus, a sub­ject that has tra­di­tion­al­ly frus­trat­ed many stu­dents. The 24 lec­tures (find them on Vimeo) were orig­i­nal­ly pre­sent­ed as review ses­sions for Prince­ton intro­duc­to­ry cal­cu­lus cours­es offered in 2006, and each ses­sion runs about two hours. It’s worth not­ing that Ban­ner has used the lec­tures to devel­op a handy book, The Cal­cu­lus Life­saver: All the Tools You Need to Excel at Cal­cu­lus. To find this course (and many oth­ers like it), look in the Math sec­tion of our col­lec­tion of 1500 Free Online Cours­es. Here you will also find Cal­cu­lus Revis­it­ed: Sin­gle Vari­able Cal­cu­lus, a vin­tage intro­duc­to­ry course filmed by MIT in 1970. Con­sid­er it a clas­sic…

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Math Mag­ic

Mul­ti­pli­ca­tion: The Vedic Way

Teach­ing Math with Doo­dling

Miss USA 2011: Should Schools Teach Evo­lu­tion? … or Math?

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Hunter S. Thompson’s The Rum Diary: a ‘Warped Casablanca’

In ear­ly 1960, Hunter S. Thomp­son was just 22 years old and his jour­nal­ism career was already on the skids. His last two jobs had end­ed bad­ly. At one place he was fired for insub­or­di­na­tion; at the oth­er, for smash­ing the office can­dy machine in a fit of rage after it swal­lowed his mon­ey. So he drift­ed down to San Juan, Puer­to Rico, and took a job at a news­pa­per called El Sporti­vo. His beat: bowl­ing.

The news­pa­per went out of busi­ness a few months lat­er, but Thomp­son trans­formed his expe­ri­ences into a nov­el, The Rum Diary. In the pro­logue he describes the atmos­phere of a San Juan news­room peo­pled with shift­less expa­tri­ates:

They ran the whole gamut from gen­uine tal­ents and hon­est men, to degen­er­ates and hope­less losers who could bare­ly write a post card–loons and fugi­tives and dan­ger­ous drunks, a shoplift­ing Cuban who car­ried a gun in his armpit, a half-wit Mex­i­can who molest­ed small chil­dren, pimps and ped­erasts and human chan­cres of every descrip­tion, most of them work­ing just long enough to make the price of a few drinks and a plane tick­et.

Thomp­son fin­ished the nov­el in 1961, but his career as a fic­tion writer was soon eclipsed by a grow­ing recog­ni­tion of his gift for nar­ra­tive jour­nal­ism, and The Rum Diary was­n’t pub­lished until 1998. As soon as it came out there was talk of a film adap­ta­tion. “Hunter’s dream,” said his­to­ri­an Dou­glas Brink­ley, “was to have The Rum Diary as a movie, because I think he always saw it as a kind of warped Casablan­ca.”

Thomp­son killed him­self before that dream ever came to fruition. After more than a decade of delays, a film ver­sion of The Rum Diary final­ly opened last week­end to mixed reviews and small audi­ences. John­ny Depp plays the alco­holic new­pa­per­man Paul Kemp as if he were a young Thomp­son: more laid back than the gonzo jour­nal­ist of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, but with the same pecu­liar alien­ation and low, mut­ter­ing voice. Direc­tor Bruce Robin­son cre­ates the vivid atmos­phere of a Caribbean boom­town inhab­it­ed by shady busi­ness­men, clue­less tourists, drunk­en jour­nal­ists and resent­ful natives. But the sto­ry is like its pro­tag­o­nist: adrift, irres­olute.

To learn about Thomp­son’s ear­ly efforts to get the sto­ry made into a movie, you can watch The Rum Diary Back Sto­ry, filmed from 1998 through 2002 by Wayne Ewing. It doc­u­ments the author’s ini­tial pride at the long-over­due pub­li­ca­tion of the nov­el, fol­lowed by his grow­ing frus­tra­tion with the glacial progress in turn­ing it into a movie. Ewing filmed Thomp­son at his home in Col­orado and in a fire­side meet­ing at Dep­p’s home in Cal­i­for­nia. In one com­i­cal scene (episode eight) War­ren Zevon reads aloud an insult­ing let­ter Thomp­son had sent to a pro­duc­er.

Episode One is above, and the rest can be seen by fol­low­ing these links to Episode TwoEpisode ThreeEpisode FourEpisode FiveEpisode SixEpisode Sev­enEpisode EightEpisode Nine and Episode Ten.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

John­ny Depp Reads Let­ters From Hunter S. Thomp­son

Hunter S. Thomp­son Gets Con­front­ed by the Hel­l’s Angels

Hunter S. Thomp­son Inter­views Kei­th Richards

 

Duelity: Creationist and Darwinist Origin Stories Animated

Pro­duced at the Van­cou­ver Film School, this split-screen ani­ma­tion tells the sto­ry of Earth’ s ori­gins from a cre­ation­ist and Darwinist/evolutionist point of view. To make things more inter­est­ing (spoil­er: stop read­ing now if you want to main­tain the ele­ment of sur­prise), the sci­en­tif­ic sto­ry is told using reli­gious lan­guage, where­as the Bib­li­cal ver­sion is told as if it were the sci­en­tif­ic one. The slight­ly con­fus­ing con­clu­sion (its’ a zinger) shows how the lan­guage we use to present ideas influ­ences their per­cep­tion. And the iron­ic use of info­graph­ics tops off this visu­al and lin­guis­tic exper­i­ment.

On the home­page of the project, you can watch the videos sep­a­rate­ly and down­load them. Also, the YouTube chan­nel of Van­cou­ver Film School is always worth a vis­it.

By pro­fes­sion, Matthias Rasch­er teach­es Eng­lish and His­to­ry at a High School in north­ern Bavaria, Ger­many. In his free time he scours the web for good links and posts the best finds on Twit­ter.

David Lynch’s “Crazy Clown Time,” Stream the New Album

A quick fyi: We pre­viewed the title track a few weeks back. Now, you can stream the full album for free, cour­tesy of NPR. But don’t delay, the free tracks will only linger for a lim­it­ed time.…

Relat­ed Con­tent:

David Lynch Talks Med­i­ta­tion with Paul McCart­ney

David Lynch’s Organ­ic Cof­fee (Bar­bie Head Not Includ­ed)

David Lynch on his Favorite Movies and Film­mak­ers

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How Much Does The Entire, Big Internet Weigh?

5 mil­lion ter­abytes of infor­ma­tion. That’s what you get when you bun­dle up all of the emails, videos, pho­tos, web sites and sundry mate­ri­als avail­able on the web. Now here’s the big ques­tion: how much does all of that infor­ma­tion weigh? No spoil­ers here. We’ll let the folks at VSauce give you the answer.

PS The 5 mil­lion ter­abytes fig­ure was giv­en by Eric Schmidt in 2005. So the fig­ure is a bit dat­ed, but it does­n’t take away from the gist of the exer­cise…

Kim Kardashian Gets Divorced; Salman Rushdie Writes Limerick

Per­haps you know the back­sto­ry; per­haps you don’t. This week, socialite and real­i­ty “star” Kim Kar­dashi­an announced that her 72-day mar­riage to Kris Humphries will end in divorce. In response, the tabloids buzzed … and famed author Salman Rushdie (Midnight’s Chil­dren, The Satan­ic Vers­es and The Moor’s Last Sigh) took to Twit­ter and offered up a nice lit­tle lim­er­ick. It starts with the blue sec­tion and moves up the page…

Fol­low the author at @SalmanRushdie, and us at @openculture.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Salman Rushdie on Machiavelli’s Bad Rap

Jim Jarmusch: The Art of the Music in His Films

In the ear­ly 1980s, aspir­ing film­mak­er Jim Jar­musch immersed him­self in New York’s under­ground music scene. He played keyboards–a “fair­ly prim­i­tive Moog synthesizer”–in places like CBGB and the Mudd Club with a No Wave band called The Del-Byzan­teens and was deeply influ­enced by the spir­it of punk rock. “The aes­thet­ics of that scene real­ly gave me the courage to make films,” Jar­musch lat­er recalled. “It was not about vir­tu­os­i­ty. It was about expres­sion.”

Over the years, Jar­musch cast musi­cians instead of actors in many of his films: Joe Strum­mer, Tom Waits, John Lurie, Iggy Pop–all had some­thing in com­mon. Each had stood up against com­mer­cial pres­sure from the main­stream pop­u­lar cul­ture. Jar­musch car­ried the same uncom­pro­mis­ing spir­it into the cre­ation of his films.

In the dis­cus­sion above, record­ed some­time after the release of 1999’s Ghost Dog, Jar­musch explains his approach to using music in film.

The open­ing sequence of Jar­musch’s 1986 film Down by Law (above) rolls to the groove of Tom Wait­s’s “Jock­ey Full of Bour­bon,” from the clas­sic Rain Dogs album. Waits him­self plays a lead­ing role in the film. His music fits per­fect­ly into the atmos­phere of the sto­ry, writes Juan A. Suárez in his crit­i­cal study, Jim Jar­musch: “Wait­s’s songs tell of frac­tured romances set in an under­world of drifters, pimps, and prostitutes–to a large extent the milieu of the film. And both Jar­musch’s film and Wait­s’s songs recy­cle retro idioms. The visu­al style of Down by Law draws from a num­ber of 1940s and 1950s stu­dio gen­res, while Wait­s’s songs are replete with pas­tich­es of pol­ka, waltz, clas­sic blues, and Caribbean rhythms.”


For the sur­re­al 1995 west­ern Dead Man (sam­pled in the mon­tage above) Jar­musch enlist­ed Neil Young to com­pose and per­form the sound­track. “To me,” Young is quot­ed as say­ing at the out­set of the project by Jonathan Rosen­baum in his BFI Mod­ern Clas­sics book on the film, “the movie is my rhythm sec­tion and I will add a melody to that.” Young record­ed his min­i­mal­ist score, much of it impro­vised, in a large ware­house in San Fran­cis­co while watch­ing a rough cut of the film. Young played all the instru­ments: elec­tric and acoustic gui­tars, pump organ and a detuned piano.

The oth­er-world­ly, some­times jar­ring music baf­fled a few of the crit­ics. “A mood might have devel­oped here,” wrote Roger Ebert in a scathing review, “had it not been for the unfor­tu­nate score by Neil Young, which for the film’s final 30 min­utes sounds like noth­ing so much as a man repeat­ed­ly drop­ping his gui­tar.” Oth­ers heard genius. Rock his­to­ri­an Greil Mar­cus, in his “Ten rea­sons why Neil Young’s “Dead Man” is the best music for the dog days of the 20th cen­tu­ry,” wrote: “The music, as you lis­ten, sep­a­rates from the movie even as it frames scenes, ban­ter, recitals. It gets big­ger and more abstract, and it becomes hard to under­stand how any film, show­ing peo­ple doing this or that in spe­cif­ic, non-abstract ways, could hold it.”

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Music in Quentin Tarantino’s Films: Hear a 5‑Hour, 100-Song Playlist

New Jim Jar­musch Doc­u­men­tary on Iggy Pop & The Stooges Now Stream­ing Free on Ama­zon Prime

Jim Jarmusch’s Anti-MTV Music Videos for Talk­ing Heads, Neil Young, Tom Waits & Big Audio Dyna­mite

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Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.