boredzo

Also @boredzo@mastodon.social.

Breaker of binaries. Sweary but friendly. See also @TheMatrixDotGIF and @boredzo-kitchen-diary.


posts from @boredzo tagged #braindump

also:

There's a system to how addresses are lain out that isn't really obvious, but once you're aware of it, makes finding your way to a specific street address something you can do mostly-deterministically.

Disclaimer #1: I found a report dated 1950 by the American Society of Planning Officials that broadly mirrors much of what I've written here, so I feel comfortable saying that this isn't just California, which is where most of my experience is. But this may not apply outside the US.

Disclaimer #2: These are general rules and there are definitely places that don't follow them and individual addresses that are exceptions to them. Consider this a 90% solution.



ireneista
@ireneista

it's worth noting that in real life it's a piece of floppy plastic with a strap on the other side. it's mostly the lighting design of these photos that makes it look like some sort of legendary artifact. really quite impressive photography.

this does not detract from our enjoyment of the IDEA of the power glove. many toys for kids are more marketing than substance, that doesn't mean it wasn't fun to imagine having them.


boredzo
@boredzo

The official tie-in toys for TMNT, Transformers, Star Wars, and innumerable other cartoons, movies, and other properties tended to be cheap plastic garbage that you'd strap on with elastics or baseball-cap snaps before running out to play with your friends. And for that purpose, it was fine; it did the job, albeit with a modicum of unsatisfaction.

That unsatisfaction was the gap between what was in your imagination, planted there by the cartoon or the movie or (in the case of the above Power Glove advert) the marketing, and what was available to you on the toy store shelf. You knew this could exist—you'd seen it! And here it was, but it wasn't that, not really. But it was what you could get, and it functioned well enough for playing pretend.

Some folks never really left that unsatisfaction behind, and became a generation or two of cosplayers who took up sewing, woodworking, plastic crafting, electronics, and more, and in some cases really pushed boundaries of materials and techniques to make what they'd seen on the screen real.

In some cases there was never a real counterpart to that. Animation was the obvious example (an artist can draw anything, whether or not it can physically exist in 3D space or with extant materials). In live action, the real production might have used half-costumes where only the part that the camera could see was crafted (for actor comfort, movement, or budget reasons) and the other part might never existed at all. If you thought you saw it, it was a rougher costume used for wide shots.

(This also comes up a lot with props. Han Solo's blaster was a famous example—there was no singular prop for that, so fan recreations were syntheses of a lot of different camera angles, working drafts, etc. Indiana Jones's fedora was, IIRC, just an off-the-shelf hat; when they started work on Crystal Skull, they actually bought fan recreations of it because where else were you going to get Indiana Jones's hat in the 21st century.)

So in a lot of the more fantastic works, a complete real costume or real prop never existed. Live-action had partials for detail shots, roughs for wide shots, and never any singular object that matched what the viewer thought they saw. Animation rarely had real objects at all, by definition; artists might make models to use as reference, but those may lack the ornamentation of what gets shown on screen, like the familiar artist's mannequin that can model poses but not clothing or makeup.

There were also issues of functionality. A detail costume might only be used for a static shot, and so not need to accommodate movement. If the actor is sitting down, the costume might not even need to be able to support its own weight. Different detail costumes might be used for different shots, and so have elements in costume A that aren't in costume B and vice versa. Props are often non-functional—at least one of the Han Solo blaster props was literally just painted carved wood.

What the cosplayer achieves, in making a complete costume or prop that (as closely as is truly possible) matches what's on screen from all angles and at all levels of detail, and makes things exist in real space that might have never before existed outside of imaginations, often goes beyond what's produced for use on set, or makes things real that you might have assumed impossible.

Small wonder some cosplayers end up going into costuming or prop crafting. A skilled cosplayer has built things that were previously literally only imagined. I have to imagine some of those job interviews contain an unusually high proportion of “you built what?”.



The Project I'm Not Doing

This project, if I were to do it, would hopefully improve a paper trimmer's ability to deliver consistent, precise cuts to specific measurements.

I developed the urge to do this project after using my existing paper trimmer in the making of my postcards, which came out about the right size but with some variation. I think having hard stops rather than just grid lines might help solve the variation problem.

I don't really have the time or the severity of need to do this project, but it would be nice, so my brain has been hung up on it and I've been researching the heck out of it despite my conscious preference to not do the project.

Hopefully braindumping into this document will be the final step and I won't have to think about it again, at least until the next time I'm unhappy with what comes out of my paper trimmer.

(Edit: I originally posted this as a Gist and linked it in a thread on Mastodon, but I'm not terribly happy with this being a Gist since it's not code-related at all. cohost might be a better home for this kind of thing; we'll see.)

The core of the project

When you use a paper trimmer to cut paper, you're either following crop marks or similar markings or you're cutting to specified measurements. (Often both, once you've lopped all the crop marks off and have only the last edge to go.) Paper trimmers typically provide a plane marked with a grid in half-inches or something, for you to measure the desired dimensions behind the blade.

This project is to add the option to set hard stops to make the grid lines more than mere suggestions.

On a wooden paper trimmer, drill holes at the southwest corner of each intersection of grid lines:

    │
────┼──
   O│
    │

The circumference of each hole should just touch the adjoining grid lines.

Each hole is then a receptacle for a metal dowel pin. At least two dowel pins, one or more along the left measurement and one or more along the bottom (together with the upper edge), form a fence against which paper can be squared up. The left edge in particular would be vital for precise, repeatable cuts.

Consistent high precision in positioning the holes would be crucial. A pin that's too far left (or down) could be a non-contributing outlier in a fence made of multiple pins. Worse, a pin that's too far right (or up) obtrudes into where the paper is supposed to be.

Parts

Workpieces

Parts

  • 1/8-inch-diameter dowel pins: https://www.mcmaster.com/dowel-pins/dowel-pins-7/length~3-4-2/diameter~1-8/length~1/
    • Not really sure what length I want. Probably an inch?
    • More depth minimizes wobble
    • I don't want to drill the hole too deep, lest it go through—pins need to rest in the holes
    • Also the pins need to stick up above the plane, partly to be the fence against the paper, but also so I can pull the pins out by hand
    • The thickness of the paper cutter's grid plane is a factor; I think it's about half an inch on the Ingento, which means I'd want to go down like 3/8 or 7/16 of an inch in order to get as deep as possible without going through.

Tooling


 
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