Ben Hammersley links to his mate a random bloke, Adam Greenfield:
This goes back to the joke I always make about opening a chain of coffeehouses called Faraday’s: under the condition of ambient informatics, we will need to consciously create platforms for the specific kind of conviviality we recognize as animating our “third places,” and we will generally have to do this by physically denying, buffering or mitigating the Hertzian overlay
A paragraph surely generated from the Postmodern Essay Generator and an unsubtle joke from the probably unreal Mr Hammersely, who, between bouts of noisly photographatising dangerous places (whhhhhooooooohhh) and producing hundreds of boringly same-y looking b&w photos of moody, thin girls in an OCD storm of snapping, manages to run marathons in deserts and get himself signed up to all sorts of potentially interesting projects which he then smears with his pale cast.








4 Comments
A, I don’t know Ben.
B, jealous much?
Nope. Not if that’s how you write.
That sound you heard? The point of my comment, sailing over your head.
You *really* shouldn’t play this game.
Thesis 101: Narked, aren’t you?