Tiny Gigantic

So there’s been a bunch of moments over the years when we at Language in Common begin (again) thinking about diversifying our revenue streams. Because, as lots of you know, the problem with running a services business is that you have no visibility into how much money you’re going to have in the future. Sure, you can make guesses based on what’s happened in the past, but you can’t really know. And so if and when you’re lucky enough to have a surplus of capital, you can’t actually re-invest it in the business because you may actually need it as a cushion if–I don’t know–say, the global economy comes to a screeching halt.

So what we did to mitigate this risk was basically ignore it, and spend the money anyway. Because sometimes you have to just close your eyes and jump.

Which we’ve done a bunch.

And mostly, we’ve failed with super fun and conceptually awesome but financially viable not-so-much mobile apps, games, web apps, and short-lived partnerships. The temporary transformation of this here blog into another services business (under the same LiC roof) was another one of those attempts.

So: why another services business instead of a product business that would include better visibility and the potential for passive income? Mostly because we’re too busy to run two different companies full time, products require some start-up cash (more than we had), and because we already knew how to run a services business. We figured it’d be easy and that we would share resources across the two businesses. So we created a smaller, more agile, strictly digital, creative services shop with a lower price point.

And it actually worked! Well, kind of. Decent work showed up for Tiny Gigantic (the web design shop), while at the same time, the same kind of work started showing up for Language in Common (the digital design agency) with larger budgets. You see where I’m going here: the plan worked in that we wound up getting more work, but failed in that we found ourselves barely making money on Tiny G jobs because we were doing them with the more costly LiC resources. And then there was the whole mind-fuck of having to remember to answer the right telephone with the right company name and send emails and invoices from the right domain.

So: lesson learned. Tiny Gigantic, the inspiration feed has returned.

Henceforth until the next urge to jump, Tiny Gigantic will be a place for exploration, inspiration, conversation, and awesomeness.

We’ll leave the kick-ass branding, development, and design work to Language in Common.

from Core77:

Using bone conduction, a technology developed for hearing devices, the “touched echo” installation in Dresdon transmits sounds of the cities devastating 1945 carpet bombing through the visitors arms when they rest their elbows on the balustrade and hold their ears. Several custom made sound conductors mounted to the railing send sounds of the airplanes and bombs exploding through vibrations, it’s completely silent unless you touch the rail.

More here.

Thanks Eric!

I love that sometimes, the lore of a city turns out to be true and that all the mystery we thought lacking in our lives becomes present again. Here’s what I mean:

The lost rivers of Manhattan are real; hundreds of streams and whole wetlands were paved over and filled so that the roots of buildings could safely grow. But whether or not you could ever fish in them – this whole thing sounds like Dr. Seuss to me – is the subject of a post on the also defunct blog, Empire Zone. There, a commenter informs us that fishing for eyeless carp in the underground cisterns of Istanbul is something of a national past-time.

Thanks to bldg blog for this one.

Check out this minimalist cabin built from off-the-shelf parts. It’s 140 square feet, and features a cleverly re-purposed garage door.Link.

Found on notcot.org

From Wikipedia:

Thieves’ cant was a secret language (or cryptolect) formerly used by thieves, beggars and hustlers of various kinds in Great Britain and to a lesser extent in other English-speaking countries. The classic, colorful argot is now mostly obsolete, and is largely relegated to the realm of literature and fantasy role-playing, although individual terms continue to be used in the criminal subcultures of both Britain and the U.S..

Here’s a sample:

Artichoke: hanged (see hearty choke)

Blue pigeons: thieves who steal lead off houses and other buildings

Charactered: to have your hand burnt as a punishment for theft

More here.

We’ve been doing some research on graffiti, and we’ve found some interesting stuff about the origins of this mode of expression.

Turns out that the proliferation of tagging is widely attributed to Taki 183, a New York City tagger who became famous in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Taki was the nickname of a Greek-American foot messenger who lived on 183rd Street in Washington Heights. His job took him all over the city, and he wrote his nickname everywhere he went. Soon his tag was so pervasive that the New York Times was compelled to write an article about him. After that article was published, tagging became a widespread practice.

Tags, like names, carry little or no semantic meaning. They are not messages. But Taki the messenger did have a message for the city, whether he knew it or not. He showed New York that the city was a blank canvas, an empty page. The medium was his message.