All the images from space you could want

Here’s a mind-boggling (heh, I first typed “bloggling”) collection of images from space that’s probably old news to most, courtesy of NASA and the Johnson Space Center. There are a variety of ways to search for images. My favorite, if for nothing else then it’s one of the most detailed search pages I’ve seen in a long while, is the Technical Search. If you so choose, in addition to geographic location, you can select the particular space mission the image was taken on, specify longitude and latitude coordinates, minimum and maximum focal length of the camera lens, what camera was used to take the image, and the type of film.

A search on “Japan” resulted in over 3000 images. I did a slightly refined search on “Fuji” and found some nice images, including this one, which I was then able to request a large (and free) 1.8MB file of, just by filling out a simple form. After resizing in Photoshop, it’s now being used as my desktop wallpaper.

(Via M A R K K A)

The right impression: Hans-Jurgen Syberberg’s website moves

HJS_Kassel_HP_Foto_crop.jpgI find this utterly amazing, in this age of closely-guarded copyrights, that if one is so inclined, one can watch Hans-Jurgen Syberberg’s entire 7 1/2-hour film opus, Hitler – ein Film aus Deutschland (Hitler, a film from Germany, 1977), on the web, for free. The film is divided up into 4 parts so you don’t have to watch the whole thing in one sitting. (At the moment, the film is only available in its original German. However, there are indications on the site that an English-subtitled version will be available soon.)

I have never seen this film, but it has been oft-written about (most famously by Susan Sontag; her essay on the film is available in her book Under the Sign of Saturn), and was released in the United States in 1979 (as Our Hitler) through the efforts of Francis Ford-Coppola. Syberberg was part of the “German New Wave” of cinema artists to appear in Germany during the late 60’s, though his works were too experimental and inaccessible to achieve anything near the level of popular renown that Fassbinder or Wenders or Herzog did.

This film, along with a 60-minute piece from 2000 called Nietzsche Ecce Homo (Schleef), is available on Syberberg’s website Syberberg.de, a site divided into 4 parts, and well worth checking out even if your German is limited to “Ich bin ein Berliner” like mine is.

Of particular note is part 4, Syberberg’s quasi-weblog (“Web-Tagebuch: Daily Currency”), which dates back to January 2001, and which has been updated everyday, as far as I can tell, from December 2001 through to today. While there is some writing, for the most part it’s a visual diary, each day a “collage” of images. On any given day, you can find photographs both old and new (those taken by Syberberg as well as found images), magazine and newspaper clippings, video captures of his various films, or stuff he has shot on video, or off the tv, and scans of various ephemera. I could spend hours in his archives, for each day feels like you’re walking into an installation or standing in front of a collage in a gallery, forced by the absence of language to make your own associations and meaning. Absolutely wonderful.

By all means check out the remainder of the site as well. The “autobiography” page has clips from a lot of his various works, as well as old home movies, and images of the various ephemera of Syberberg’s career, like old 8mm cameras and film boxes, and old family snapshots as well.

At the moment, there is an Syberberg exhibition at the Centre Pompidou in Paris called Nossendorf Syberberg Paris, which includes a retrospective of some of his films. On his site, there are web cams set up in Nossendorf (Syberberg’s birthplace) and at the Pompidou, though as Syberberg writes, “Paris Webcams dont move. Therefore wrong impression.”

Diaries online

Every blogger and his/her mother has linked to this, so I’ll throw my hat into the ring and mention that I’ve been enjoying reading The Diary of Samuel Pepys. Particularly enjoyable have been the annotations, reading them makes me feel like I’m back in lit class, or more prosaically, rummaging through some old Cliffs Notes.

Speaking of diaries, found an interesting complement to Pepys’, The Diary of a Nobody, by George and Weedon Grossmith (1892). Not an actual diary, of course, but the fictionalized diary of one Charles Pooter, a London commoner. I love Pooter’s introduction:

Why should I not publish my diary? I have often seen reminiscences of people I have never even heard of, and I fail to see — because I do not happen to be a ‘Somebody’ — why my diary should not be interesting. My only regret is that I did not commence it when I was a youth.

Reads like a blogger’s manifesto! (found via Hugh Cook’s Website)