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Michael Rundle is a writer who lives in London.
He is the Technology Editor of the Huffington Post UK.
Employment history and portfolio can be found above, various things he has written and found are collected to the right.
For Twitter and secret files, click the blue arrow to the right.
Get in touch via the links below.
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An obtvse way to make a point
Jupiter and its moons; Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto.
One of the first photos that got me lots of followers was this...
Rocket
Exploring Space 1958
After 244 Years, Encyclopaedia Britannica Stops the PressesFrom the NY Times:
After 244 years, the Encyclopaedia Britannica is going out of...
New generation bionics — wireless and touch-sensitive
A new generation of bionics that can connect wirelessly with the nervous system are under development.
Animal tests...
6 Writing Tips From John Steinbeck
1. Abandon the idea that you are ever going to finish. Lose track of the 400 pages and write just one page for each day, it helps. Then...
In Focus: The Maasai Cricket Warriors
In Kenya, a group of young Maasai warriors from the Laikipia region formed a cricket team with big hopes: to promote healthy living,...
What 19th-Century Tech Journalists Thought About the Telephone
Yesterday in 1876, the U.S. Patent Office awarded Alexander Graham Bell a patent for his “improvement in...
OMG SPACE is a project by designer Margot Trudell ”to communicate to people what we’ve managed to accomplish in space exploration in simple terms”.
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Punch Magazine nails Twitter 150 years before its launch.
A Telegraph all over London? The wires brought to within 100 yards of every man’s door? A Company established to carry it out?
Well - I don’t know. There’s a good deal to be said on both side.
It certainly would be pleasant to be within five minutes of such a message as “Dine at the Club with me at seven;” or “SQUATTLEBOROUGH JUNCTIONS” at six premium; I’ve sold your hundred, and paid in the cash to your account.” …
But think on the other hand of being within five minutes of every noodle who wants to ask you a question, of every dun with a “little account;” of every acquaintance who has a favour to beg, or a disagreeable thing to communicate. With the post one secures at least the three or four hours betwixt writing the letter and its delivery. When I leave my suburban retreat at Brompton, at nine A.M., for the City, I am insured against MRS. P.’s anxieties, and tribulations, and consultings, on the subject of our little family, or our little bills, the servants’ shortcomings, or the tradesmen’s delinquencies, at least till my return to dinner. But with a House Telegraph, it would be a perpetual tete-a-tete. We should be always in company, as it were, with all our acquaintance. Good gracious, we should go far to outvie SIR BOYLE ROCHE’s famous bird, and be not in two places only, but in every place within the whole range of the House-Telegraph at once. Solitude would become impossible. The bliss of ignorance would be at an end. We should come near that most miserable of all conceivable conditions, of being able to oversee and overhear all that is being done or said concerning us all over London! Every bore’s finger would be always on one’s button; every intruder’s hand on one’s knocker; every good-natured friend’s lips in one’s ear.
No - all things considered, I don’t think society is quite ripe for the House-Telegraph yet. If it is established I shall put up a plate on my door with “No House-Telegrams need apply.”
Via CatMeatShop