Artist Jeff Thompson received a Rhizome commission in 2012 for his project Computers on Law & Order, for which he watched every episode of the long-running television series and took screenshots of all the computers. Thompson will present an illustrated lecture based on the project  this Saturday, Feb 1 at 4 pm at the Museum of the Moving Image, followed by a discussion with Law & Order graphic designer Kevin Raper. View the project here.

More information on the Saturday February 1 lecture “Rhizome Presents: Computers on Law & Order” at the Museum of the Moving Image.

an anonymous source from deep within rhizome’s sticky server rooms has sent us this shocking image.
i believe what we see here is the selfie-obsessed infernal internet hippie jessie darling, merging her brain with her croc at a seapunk convention. seapunk conventions and wiring your brain into a croc have both been made illegal in the art world by jonathan jones, who believes the croc shoes reference the culling of reptiles for fashion. 
what we say: how can rhizome stand by and condone this?

Snapshots of Occupy Wall Street from Rhizome

via rhizome.org

[E]very Occupy Wall Street march in New York seems to poetically incorporate the history and semiotics of the city. Times Square marchers in Milton Glasner’s “I (Heart) NY” t-shirts, waving sparklers in the air, singing show tunes along with a brass band behind the TKTS booth while tourists feverishly snapped photos, as they would any other urban spectacle. Another photo op: the wall of riot cops beneath the Washington Square arch, the Empire State Building gleaming directly north, lights piercing the night sky. After the General Assembly meeting disassembled for the midnight curfew, it seemed like anyone out on Bleecker Street that Saturday night could have been part of it.

The Rhizome blog has been really good recently, not just in their coverage of #OWS.

Fuck Everything is a dating game deeply embedded within internet, hip hop, and Otaku cultures. You play a furry/otherkin body with a downloaded consciousness. You enter a door. Eminem’s Fack thumps. A dog, a lava monster, a woman, a sex doll, and a sullen young man sit at a bar, with a female bartender with dog ears presiding. You click to enter into conversations with these various folks, try to have sex. You dive into a cosmic dumpster. Go home and melt. Fuck a chair. Get tentacled by a minor. Reminisce about the birth of a litter. Die. Die again and again.

I (No Longer) Have a Web Site: Access, Authenticity, and the Restoration of GeoCities

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It may seem strange to say this about the likes of “Cute Boy Site” or “Divorced Dads Page,” but the remains of the GeoCities web hosting service are a vital part of our cultural legacy. In its dial-up heyday, GeoCities was where non-specialist internet users made their first-ever webpages. Today, it exists as a vast, if partial, repository of the anxieties, hopes, and dreams of those creators, and offers a snapshot of the early popular usage of a now-ubiquitous cultural form, the webpage.

City of QR Codes

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I examine bar codes, wondering what it would be like to have only laser sight. I stare at handwriting until the loops and whorls stop being words, syllables, and even letters, and become no more than manic pulses brain wave transformed into muscle twitch, traced in the seismograph of our ink-hemorrhaging prosthetic appendages. I gaze at my city streets, running my eyes over the scars on its knees, feeling a refracted rainbow of urban skin interring a personal history of human frailty. I have a polymorphously perverted sense of physical praxis with objects. It’s not that I’m more object-curious or infrastructurally dirty-minded than most; it’s just that once you start to think about what things are wearing underneath their exterior semiotic reality, it’s pretty hard to calm down. Thankfully, the city invites my oddly tactile greeting, smiling and warming to my touch. Scars are so much sexier than tattoos…

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