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Wednesday, May 23, 2012
How to Find and Get Involved with A Hackerspace In Your Community
May 23rd, 2012Top StoryHow to Find and Get Involved with A Hackerspace In Your CommunityClick to view Great DIY projects are often easy to do at home, but many require tools and space that you may not have. Just because you don't have a basement workshop doesn't mean you don't get to scratch your DIY itch. Odds are there's a hackerspace in your community, stocked with tools, plenty of space, safety gear, and knowledgeable people willing to help you. These spaces offer would-be makers a place to go and safely experiment, tinker, and dream. Here's how you can find and get involved with one near you. What Is a "Hackerspace?"Put simply, a hackerspace (or hackspace) is a shared workspace where you can tackle DIY projects you wouldn't normally be able to because you don't have the space or materials. Very often, those spaces are loaded with tools, training classes, and other experienced members willing to help you get your projects off the ground. Whether you're hacking IKEA furniture or making your own electronics, a hackerspace can provide you with everything you need to get started, as long as you bring the materials, the idea, and the motivation to make it happen. Photo by Mitch Altman. Why Would I Want to Join a Hackerspace?Dr. Lindsay Levkoff, Director of Education at SparkFun Electronics explains:
For example, among all of the other cool things at this year's Maker Faire in San Francisco, educator and Mythbusters host Adam Savage delivered an eloquent argument in support of the DIY community (embedded at the top of this post), not only because it offers a creative outlet, but because DIY projects encourage critical thinking. If you've been looking for a way to do just that, or you just wish you had a place to go to work on your pet project, a hackerspace is for you. Thankfully, they're plentiful, easy to find, and easy to join. How Do I Find a Hackerspace Near Me?To find a local hackerspace, head over to Hackerspaces.org, a community-maintained wiki with an always up-to-date list of locations around the globe you can join. If you're interested in starting or getting involved in a new hackerspace, the "all spaces" list will show you planned spaces and ones just getting off the ground. Finding a space is easy, but finding out whether it's the right space for you is a different issue. Check out the events list to see if the hackerspaces near you are hosting anything you'd be interested in. Make sure to visit your local space's web site to find out what type of space they are, how to become a member, and what dues they may charge. Some hackerspaces focus on DIY electronics and crafting projects, others focus on traditional network and computer hacking, and others blend both into the same space. You'll want to make sure the space you choose lines up with what you want to do before dropping by for a visit—and you definitely want to visit before you sign up to become a member. What Should I Know Before Getting Involved?Before you become a member at your local hackerspace, here are some things to keep in mind:
Dr. Levkoff explained that those new to the DIY/hackerspace community "Start with a few smaller scale projects that can be completed without too much hassle. It is really rewarding to see a few projects through to completion. Once you have a few projects under your belt the sky is the limit." Photo by Mitch Altman. Whether you want to sell your work on Etsy or you just want to build your own desk, or maybe make it height adjustable, most hackerspaces will have the tools to help you customize your gear to your needs, or build something from scratch that's better than anything you could get at a store. Get Involved and Start MakingAll of us at have at some point thought to ourselves that our desk, bed, entertainment center, or bookshelf would be perfect if it just had this thing, or some feature we wish we could add to it. Normally we have to suck it up and live with what we have, but being a member at a hackerspace means you don't have to settle for the things you buy or see on store shelves as they are. You can tweak to your heart's content, experiment with new projects, and let the DIY enthusiast in you bloom. Best of all, if you don't know how to make your idea real, there's probably someone there who can help you learn. Photo by Ash Berlin. Are you a member at a hackerspace in your community? Do you have any other tips for people looking to get involved? Share your tips—and some of the DIY projects that got you started—in the comments below. Lindsay Levkoff, Ph.D. is Director of Education at SparkFun Electronics, and a passionate maker herself. She volunteered her expertise for this post, and we thank her. Title photo by SFBlogg.com. |
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An Exploration Game Helped Me Realize Why Nature Kind of Sucks
May 23rd, 2012Top StoryAn Exploration Game Helped Me Realize Why Nature Kind of SucksI've never really been one for the appreciation of the "great outdoors." Take me out of my skyscraper rainforest, ground me in something other than the tangled detritus of concrete streets and roads, and I become unmoored. I blame it on my upbringing: I was largely sheltered, and as a result my outdoorsmanship was developed within the pages of a book or at the end of a joystick. Enveloping myself in nature to develop some form of 'character' or to help foster a deeper understanding about the world...has never really worked. I don't lack either of those things, I've just never walked out of, say, a fishing trip feeling like I suddenly knew something about myself. Somehow, the game Proteus and a conversation about game design with a friend helped elucidate why nature has never really "clicked" for me. "This," my father says, as he makes a long, swooping gesticulation with his arms, "is called La Puerta del Diablo." The Devil's Portal in English. We had spent the evening hiking up to the peak of this infamous El Salvadorean landmark. For someone like me, who grew up with a moderate 50-70 degree weather spectrum, the clothes sticking disgustingly to my body were a testament to how sweltering it was that day. Nature doesn't have a logic to it. Nature doesn't have a particular purpose beyond what its mercurial forces have created by sheer chance: a mountain, a valley, a river. "What do you think?" I stop and looked out, but all I could see were trees obscuring the city underneath. When I have an attitude like that, it's a wonder that Proteus struck a chord with me—it is a game that is about about the exploration of an island. That's it. No plot, no story, no characters, no achievements, no mechanic beyond "walk." The start of the game fades in as if opening my eyes for the first time, which instantly makes Proteus seem dream-like. I can see the island in the distance, and I'm compelled to swim toward it. Nature as I know it—and am typically indifferent to—has been translated to a language that I can understand, find resonance with. The blocky foliage of trees sways with the wind, water glistens in a serene pixellization. The pictures of Proteus don't do it justice. The electronic hum of this digital nature speaks to my sensibilities well. Nature holds an element of mystique in the game. Proteus is at once both a comfortable place that we can all situate within our lexicons, but there's also something piquant about it—and this drove my curiosity and wanderlust mad. I explore in Proteus to see what I already know—I won't spoil too much, because Proteus is meant to be experienced—only parsed in a new way. I can appreciate it on my preferred terms, too: intellectually. There are no scraped knees here. There is, however, alt-tabbing out to read up on Proteus himself. Ancient Greek poet Homer called the ocean god Proteus 'the old man of the sea.' Proteus commands a sense of wonder, and wonder is provided by that which is at once beautiful but beyond our grasp. It wasn't until I spoke to a friend about something unrelated that I understood why I appreciated Proteus as well as I did. We spoke at length regarding the reasons why people make games, which lead us to talk about what type of person makes games. As far as we can tell, that person tends to be a bit of a control freak. Everything must be just so; everything must be particularly orchestrated for the player to experience or interact with. A game and its tightly-packed, particularly-defined index of rules are like an affront to the chaos of the 'real' world. A game is order, everything in its right place. And if not? It doesn't exist, because it hasn't been defined in the code. Nature can't be tamed like that. Nature doesn't have a logic to it, not in the same way. Nature doesn't have a particular purpose beyond what its mercurial forces have created by sheer chance: a mountain, a valley, a river. If there is awe to be had in that, it's that something, anything can arise at all from a complete accident. Contrast this with Proteus. The island is audibly reactive: stones will bellow hollow tones that are reminiscent of Brian Eno's ambient music when a player walks by, for instance. Click to view The world of Proteus is in servitude to the player. Things here exist, more, were created, specifically to be experienced, to evoke something from the player. Proteus delivers this curated package while at once providing a playground for contemplative, aimless sauntering. Travel is not utilitarian here, it is not a means to get to where you 'need' to be. There's an intrinsic idyllic quality about the world, a landscape that's to be appreciated for its own sake. And yet there is intention behind every pixel in the horizon. Games aren't an accident, they aren't a miracle arising from chance. Games are designed. My admiration is more easily channeled toward things I can intellectualize and understand, things I can learn from, and things that have purpose. The errant chance of nature? Not so much. |
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