"The films of Jean-Luc Godard have been written about perhaps more than any other cinematic works, often through the lens of cultural theory, but not nearly enough attention has been paid to the role of designed objects in his films. Collages of art, literature, language, objects, and words, Godard's films have an instant, impactful, graphic quality, but are far from simple pop artifacts. The thesis this presentation derives from, 'Objects to be Read, Words to be Seen: Design and Visual Language in the Films of Jean-Luc Godard 1959–1967,' explores and interprets the role of visual language within the films—title sequences, intertitles, handwritten utterances, and printed matter in the form of newspapers, magazines, and posters.
By examining le graphisme within the cultural context of Paris during the 1960s, this thesis seeks to amplify the significance of graphic design in Godard's first fifteen films, beginning with 1960's À Bout de Souffle (Breathless) and ending with 1967's Weekend. While Godard was not a practicing graphic designer in the traditional sense, he was an amateur de design, an autodidact whose obsession with designed objects, graphic language and print media resulted in the most iconic body of work in 1960s France."
(Laura Forde, 30 April 2010)
"Yet while anonymity offers a potential bulwark against surveillance, for those who do not wish to be watched, it has also helped in the development of that part of the online world known as the dark web.
Sites on the dark web like Silk Road have used Tor technology to hide their location and yet still be available to users who wish to visit them.
The dark web has now become a focus for law enforcement officers who believe it is facilitating a variety of illegal activities including financial crime and child abuse."
(Mike Radford, 3 September 2014, BBC News)
Fig.1 "Inside the Dark Web" 2014, television programme, BBC Two - Horizon, Series 51, Episode 4, first broadcast: 3 September 2014.
"The general idea behind Agile is that instead of arguing about the wording of a requirements document written three months earlier with little perspective into the current situation, it's often healthier to acknowledge that the project is going to be flexible and evolving, and put processes in place that allow it to be that way.
Barely over 200 words, that manifesto become the foundation for a movement that has changed the world of software development forever. Endless writing and speaking has explored the various ways the manifesto could be interpreted, and many specific frameworks and methodologies (such as Extreme Programming, Kanban, Lean, and Scrum) have been developed to formalize its principles. A whole 'Agile industry' has emerged, with successful companies offering tools, training, consulting, certification, and other products and services. The economic engine behind the Agile movement as a whole is massive. ...
On the surface, it seems like design and Agile should magically work together, but there are some underlying philosophical issues you have to wrestle with before figuring it out. Design is all about big-picture thinking: planning, strategy, working out all the details, thinking everything through, making it perfect, etc. (Eric Karjaluoto called it the 'masterpiece mentality.') Agile, on the other hand, is more often about doing the basics and saving details for later: iteration, minimum viable products, 'perfect is the enemy of done,' etc. Those two worlds don't blend smoothly together, at least at first. Agile developers can get frustrated with designers for over-thinking things ('Why can't they just let it go? We can get to that later.'), while the designers get discouraged by the perceived low standards of Agile developers ('Don't you want it to be good? Don't you want the user to be happy?').
In both cases, though, the problem comes from a misunderstanding of each other's perspectives (as problems often do). The designer isn't being obsessive, they're just trying to do right by the user. And the developer isn't being lazy, they're just following a process that actually gets things done with minimal navel-gazing. Both sides could learn some important lessons from each other."
(James Archer, Forty)
"In the 1960s, the New York subways were a mess, sign-wise. Station names and metro lines were spelled out in a hodgepodge of sizes, shapes, and styles. The original mosaic tiles had been joined by cut stone and terracotta—all of which clashed with newer enamel signs. They were not only inconsistent in terms of style but also in where they were placed, so straphangers didn't know where to look for directions on how to get from point A to point B.
In 1970, following the merger of the IND and BMT lines, the Metropolitan Transit Authority (MTA) hired Massimo Vignelli and Bob Noorda, designers at the firm Unimark, to put an end to the typographic chaos. The system they devised still informs signs made today and is painstakingly outlined in a 174-page manual"
(Belinda Lanks, 15 September 2014, Businessweek)