#digital-ghost — Public Fediverse posts

👴🎮 Ah yes, because nothing screams "cutting-edge gaming" like a 27-year-old game about celestial urban planning. It's 2023, yet here we are having a seance for Lucasarts' digital ghost, desperately hoping it haunts us with the same outdated frustrations. 🚀👻
https://togameforlife.wordpress.com/2023/12/09/on-lucasarts-afterlife/ #cuttingedgegaming #celestialurbanplanning #retrogaming #Lucasarts #gamingnostalgia #digitalghost #HackerNews #ngated

The Midnight Codebreaker: Exposing the Ghost Protocol Down Under

When an offshore syndicate pushes a broken environmental platform onto Australian landholders, it looks like standard corporate incompetence. But Ade, Lakshmi, Ian, and the team spot something sinister buried beneath the bad code: an intentional digital trap designed to lock farmers out while automated scripts drain the Murray-Darling basin dry. With only six hours on the clock, seven specialists turn accessibility guidelines into an unstoppable weapon of transparency. Can pure, semantic code bring a shadowy billionaire trust into the light before the markets open? 

​”Time and growth

The afternoon heat in Sydney baked the asphalt along George Street, radiating through the studio windows as the air conditioning hummed a low, steady drone. Inside, seven colleagues sat around an oak table, staring down a deadline that had begun to feel less like a target and more like a cliff.

The project was called Project Terra, commissioned by an offshore investment syndicate known simply as the Apex Meridian Group. The public face of the build was straightforward: a high-capacity environmental monitoring portal designed to track soil moisture, bushfire risk, and regenerative agriculture metrics across rural New South Wales. But within the past two hours, the scope had warped. An urgent addendum arrived from Apex Meridian’s legal representative in Zurich, demanding that the platform go live before midnight, complete with a public submission gateway for landholders.

Ade leaned back in his ergonomic chair, his posture deliberate as he adjusted the position of his hands near his trackball setup. As a reporter with limited use of his arms, Ade had spent his career navigating interfaces that treated usability as an afterthought. He looked across the desk at the glowing displays.

“They are pushing for speed at the cost of clarity,” Ade said, his voice level. “If we want this project to grow, we cannot rush the foundation. They sent over a revised set of complex legal clauses, but growth without clarity is an illusion.”

Ian, the team’s data entry clerk, sat rigid, his dual monitors filled with form validations and regex syntax. Ian’s autism meant he had zero patience for ambiguity or sloppy design patterns; he saw logic where others saw convenience. He tapped his stylus against the screen bezel, pointing directly at the input field designated for regional Australian phone numbers.

“Look at this input requirement,” Ian said, his tone clipped and factual. “Their backend parser strictly demands ten digits without punctuation, yet they provided no descriptive placeholder or format instruction. An Australian landholder entering (02) 1234 1234 with parentheses or spaces will trigger an ambiguous generic rejection. We must provide clear instructions and implement forgiving validation. The pattern needs to accept spaces, brackets, and hyphens, stripping them automatically. Error messages must explain what went wrong and how to fix it, not just spit back a red border.”

Across the table, Lakshmi adjusted the speed on her screen reader, listening to the synthetic voice blast through her single earbud at four hundred words per minute. Lakshmi, a senior accountant who had spent decades managing enterprise ledgers before losing her sight, was running an audit on the document hierarchy.

“Structure gives us balance,” Lakshmi said, her fingers dancing lightly over her Braille terminal. “A site that expands its database without clear semantic mark-up is an unnavigable swamp. In the latest build they pushed through the Git repository, the third-party developer swapped semantic HTML headers for unstyled divisions with visual font-weight overrides. When I jump through the headings to inspect the financial allocation schedules, the screen reader registers no hierarchy at all. The document lacks informative, unique page titles and structural headings. Without <h2> and <h3> tags to group related paragraphs, there is no meaningful sequence.”

Stefan was rocking gently in his swivel chair, tapping a pencil against a spiral notebook where he had scribbled diagrams of data flows. His ADHD and dyslexia made cluttered pages exhausting to read; he processed complex ideas best when content was stripped of unnecessary jargon and organized with plenty of whitespace.

“Look at their Claims Processing Procedure paragraph for rural drought subsidies,” Stefan remarked, pulling up the draft text on a central projector. “It is two hundred words of convoluted corporate double-speak. ‘In the event of an adverse climatological incident, a designated representative will ascertain causality…’ It is unreadable. Short sentences, simple words, and bulleted lists. If we don’t break the application process into distinct steps with clear titles like ‘Claim Submission (Step 1 of 3)’, people will simply abandon the form.”

Marta, the team’s visual and tactile media coordinator, was reviewing the media player on her laptop alongside Sophie, an illustrator and basketball fan whose bright sketches pinned across the wall translated dense interface guidelines into easily digestible visual cues. Marta, who was deaf and had low vision, ran her thumb along an external refreshable display while Sophie verified the visual layout.

“They uploaded two introductory briefing videos without captions, transcripts, or audio descriptions,” Marta observed, pointing to the embedded player. “Worse, the video carousels on the main landing page start playing automatically without visible pause or stop controls. If an elderly landholder or someone using magnification software encounters motion they cannot stop, it disorients them immediately.”

“And look at the color contrast,” Sophie added, pointing to the warning boxes on the dashboard. “They used light gray text over an amber gradient background. It fails luminance contrast ratio standards completely. More importantly, the required inputs are marked only by red text borders. Lexie won’t be able to tell which field is required if color alone conveys meaning. We need an asterisk alongside the color, with visible text labels positioned directly adjacent to each field.”

Elias sat at the head of the table, his hands resting on a large-print keyboard. A retired structural engineer with mild short-term memory loss and a slight tremor, Elias possessed an uncanny ability to spot foundational flaws before anyone else. He looked at the system clock on the wall: 5:45 PM.

“Apex Meridian claims this deployment is an emergency update for soil monitoring,” Elias said softly, zooming his browser window to 200%. “Yet, when you resize the text, the layout clips the data submission button entirely off the viewport unless responsive media queries are applied. Why would a Swiss investment trust be so desperate to launch an unpolished rural telemetry site before the Australian financial markets open tomorrow morning?”

Ian stopped tapping his stylus. “Because it is not a soil monitoring portal.”

The room went completely quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of the air conditioner.

“What did you find, Ian?” Ade asked, leaning forward.

Ian brought up the raw source code on the main display wall. “When I was inspecting the form controls to associate <label for> attributes with the corresponding <input id> tags, I found an invisible, hidden <form> element injected inside the global navigation wrapper. It was nested behind an unlabelled decorative icon.”

Ian brought the markup into view:

<nav aria-label="Main Navigation" role="navigation">
  <ul>
    <li><a href="/overview">Overview</a></li>
    <li class="has-submenu">
      <a aria-expanded="false" aria-haspopup="true" href="/regional">Water Assets</a>
      <ul hidden>
        <li><a href="/basin-transfer">Basin Transfer Protocol</a></li>
      </ul>
    </li>
  </ul>
</nav>

“At first glance, it looks like standard navigation markup,” Ian explained, his fingers flying across his keyboard. “Except the ARIA state aria-expanded="false" is hardcoded to prevent standard keyboard navigation from ever opening that submenu. Furthermore, the tabindex was set to -1 on the nested action button to ensure no screen reader or keyboard user could accidentally tab into it.”

“A hidden interactive element obscured from assistive technology,” Lakshmi noted, her brow furrowing. “What does the Basin Transfer link actually target?”

“It connects directly to the New South Wales Murray-Darling Water Allocation Trading Exchange API,” Ian revealed. “Apex Meridian isn’t launching a community soil tracker. They are using this portal as an automated, high-frequency water-rights acquisition engine. While local farming syndicates try to fill out confusing, broken claim forms that reject their phone numbers and fail to provide error feedback, Apex Meridian’s automated scripts will execute bulk water buyouts in the background before the morning regulatory freeze.”

Stefan stood up, pacing the perimeter of the table. “They designed the platform to be deliberately inaccessible. If the submission forms for local farmers fail—due to poor contrast, missing labels, vague instructions, and broken keyboard access—the locals get locked out of filing their counter-claims in time. Meanwhile, the corporate API bypasses the UI entirely.”

“It’s a digital land grab disguised as an environmental portal,” Ade said, his eyes narrowing. “They are counting on the fact that when users encounter errors like ‘Ambiguous Input’ or unreadable text, they will simply blame their own computers and wait until business hours to call support.”

Elias adjusted his glasses, looking at the code. “Can they execute the automated transfer if the public interface is fully compliant with accessibility standards?”

Ian paused, analyzing the API endpoints. “The Apex legal framework hinges on public notice. Under Australian regulatory bylaws, their water acquisition filings are only valid if published on a ‘publicly accessible, transparent online registry’ twelve hours prior to execution. If the registry fails basic accessibility criteria, the legal validity of the filing is voided. But if we make the interface completely accessible, the public registry exposes the underlying transactions in real time.”

“Then we don’t block the site,” Lakshmi said firmly. “We fix it. We make it so completely, flawlessly accessible that every hidden transaction is dragged directly into the light.”

“We have six hours,” Elias said, a faint grin appearing beneath his gray beard. “Let’s rebuild the architecture from the ground up.”

The studio shifted instantly into high gear. The seven teammates divided the codebase into distinct modules, operating not merely as developers and testers, but as craftsmen restoring balance to a compromised system.

Ade took charge of the editorial layer, rewriting every single instructional paragraph, error notification, and document summary across the platform. He replaced ambiguous anchor tags like ‘click here’ and ‘read more’ with explicit, descriptive link text such as ‘Download Water Allocation Schedule (PDF, 4.2MB)’ and ‘Review Drought Relief Eligibility Criteria’. Working via voice dictation and specialized switches, Ade expanded every technical acronym on first use, including Murray-Darling Basin Authority (MDBA) and Web Content Accessibility Guidelines (WCAG). He crafted clear, concise error messages that told users exactly what went wrong and how to fix it.

Ian took ownership of the form architecture and data validation. He went through every <input>, <select>, and <textarea> tag, strictly pairing them with descriptive <label> elements using matching for and id attributes. For every input field, he added clear examples directly into the instructions, ensuring that date formats and regional phone inputs accepted standard Australian variations without throwing errors. Where the previous developers had installed an obscure visual CAPTCHA that locked out users with low vision or motor impairments, Ian removed it entirely, replacing it with transparent backend rate-limiting and accessible multi-factor authentication options.

Lakshmi audited the structural markup and document flow. She systematically eliminated extraneous decorative containers, establishing a pristine semantic foundation with <header>, <nav role="navigation">, <main>, <article>, and <aside> elements. She ensured that every page featured an informative, unique page title that placed the specific view name before the organization name, such as Public Water Rights Register • Project Terra. She ordered the heading tags strictly from <h1> through <h3>, ensuring the logical reading order in the code matched the visual presentation perfectly.

Stefan focused on layout spacing, content chunking, and plain-language structuring. He took the complex legal claims procedures and restructured them into clean, numbered stages with ample whitespace between sections to reduce visual cognitive load. By introducing generous margins and clear typographic hierarchy, Stefan made scanning the complex transaction tables intuitive for readers with attention deficits or reading fatigue.

Sophie reworked the visual design system from scratch. She discarded the low-contrast amber gradients, substituting them with deep charcoal text on an off-white background to ensure the luminance contrast ratio far exceeded the standard 4.5:1 threshold. She audited all form indicators, ensuring that mandatory fields were identified by both red color highlights and clear text asterisks accompanied by explicit written keys. Furthermore, she generated concise, accurate alternative text attributes for every diagram, map, and infographic, ensuring that complex charts had corresponding descriptive summaries embedded in the code.

Marta reconstructed the media systems and interactive components. She embedded closed captions and downloadable text transcripts for every briefing video, ensuring that auditory cues—such as warning tones or speaker transitions—were meticulously noted. She redesigned the interactive data carousel, eliminating auto-play completely and installing robust, keyboard-operable pause, previous, and next controls.

Elias oversaw the responsive code architecture, writing clean CSS media queries that adapted the complex data grids seamlessly across desktop screens, tablets, and mobile devices. He verified that when the browser layout was magnified to 200%, the entire interface reflowed into a single clean column without clipping interactive elements or triggering horizontal scroll bars. He added highly visible keyboard focus rings—a sharp, high-contrast two-pixel outline—to every link, button, and input element across the platform.

By 11:15 PM, the studio was filled with the quiet rustle of paper and the soft click of keystrokes.

“Running complete system validation,” Ian announced, his voice steady. He initiated the automated accessibility evaluation suite while Lakshmi navigated the live staging environment via screen reader.

Lakshmi tapped the tab key rapidly. The synthetic voice spoke crisp and clear: "Link: Public Water Rights Register. Heading Level 1: Public Water Rights Register. Table with 4 columns and 12 rows. Column 1: Asset ID. Column 2: Allocation Volume. Column 3: Current Holder. Column 4: Pending Acquisition Status."

Lakshmi smiled. “The hidden transaction registry is no longer hidden. It reads out as the primary data table under the main landmark. The submenu navigation expands properly via keyboard focus, exposing the Basin Transfer Protocol directly to the document outline.”

“Check the viewport zoom,” Elias instructed, adjusting his monitor.

Sophie scaled the display to 200%. The multi-column asset ledger smoothly restructured into an accessible, stacked card view, preserving every data point and keeping the counter-claim submission button prominently visible at the bottom of the screen.

“Form validation test,” Ade said, testing an edge-case submission. He entered an Australian phone number with irregular spaces: (02) 9876 5432. The form processed the input smoothly, displayed an informative green confirmation message with an icon, and generated a unique tracking ID.

At exactly 11:45 PM, Ian pushed the final production build to the live server.

Five minutes later, the automated trading engine at Apex Meridian’s headquarters in Zurich initiated its scheduled pre-market water asset buyouts. But instead of transmitting into an opaque, broken portal where no local stakeholders could observe or challenge the transactions, the scripts hit the rebuilt Project Terra platform.

Because the interface now adhered strictly to open standards and semantic clarity, the pending water-rights transfers were immediately indexed by public search bots and regulatory scrapers. Within minutes, the automated registry alerted the regional agricultural cooperatives in Dubbo, Griffith, and Wagga Wagga. Armed with clear, concise instructions and an error-free submission workflow, three farming associations successfully logged their preemptive counter-claims before the midnight regulatory deadline.

At 12:05 AM, Ian’s monitor flashed with an incoming administrative alert from Zurich. The high-frequency acquisition script had aborted due to conflicting registered claims on the public ledger.

Stefan let out a low whistle. “They couldn’t sneak the transaction through the dark.”

Ade looked out the window at the quiet Sydney skyline, where the midnight air was finally cooling. “When an interface is built with balance, time stops working against the people who use it. Clear structure isn’t just an aesthetic choice; it is what keeps systems honest.”

Lakshmi powered down her Braille terminal with a soft click. Elias stood up, stretched his back, and glanced around the table at his team.

​”Time and growth,” Elias said, switching off the overhead lights. “If you take the time to build things right, everyone gets to grow together.”

🚀🛑 Oh wow, a futuristic love letter to the 'session'—the one API date you'll never forget, mostly because you can't actually take it home. CPUs, GPUs, and every other PU are here to remind you that your precious conversation is a digital ghost 👻.
https://earendil.com/posts/session-portability/ #futuristicloveletter #sessionAPI #digitalghost #techromance #datatechnology #HackerNews #ngated

The Red Dirt Audit

The neon sign of the servo flickered against the vast, bruised sky of the Outback, casting a rhythmic, sickly green glow over the red dust. The Three Best Friends—Liam, Dax, and Dev—had been driving for ten hours, their old 4WD chockers with server-grade hardware and a beat-up esky full of lukewarm water. They were performing the ultimate hard yakka: tracking a digital ghost to a physical location.

“Fair dinkum, this place is isolated,” Liam muttered, stepping out into the dry heat. He adjusted his glasses, his mind still racing with the content audit he’d been performing on the fly. He knew that to beat the Raven, they had to be beyond reproach. He had spent the drive ensuring their own documentation followed the most rigorous standards, providing informative, unique page titles for every log entry they created. He knew that for each web page, they needed a short title that described the content and distinguished it from others.

Dax climbed out of the passenger seat, immediately checking his handheld light-meter. “She’ll be right, Liam,” he said, though his eyes were fixed on the servo’s flickering signage. Even here, Dax couldn’t stop being a designer. He noticed the signage lacked sufficient contrast between the foreground and background, a cardinal sin in his book. He knew that foreground text needs to have sufficient contrast with background colors to be readable for people like Elias or Lexie.

The Terminal in the Dust
Inside the servo, the air was thick with the smell of deep-fryer oil and diesel. In the back corner, next to a rack of faded bathers and fishing lure, sat a heavy, industrial-grade terminal. It was humming with a low-frequency vibration that made the floorboards rattle.

“There it is,” Dev whispered. He moved toward the machine, his fingers already itching to check the code. “The Raven’s physical gateway.”

Dev knew that to dismantle this, he would have to use appropriate mark-up for headings, lists, and tables to understand the machine’s hidden structure. He reached for the keyboard, but stopped. The screen was a nightmare of unnecessarily complex data blocks.

“It’s a trap,” Dev said. “Look at the interface. They haven’t provided clear and consistent navigation options. There’s no site map, no search, just a single, pulsing cursor. It’s designed to make you feel lost”.

Decoding the Raven’s Form
A form suddenly popped up on the screen, demanding an administrative bypass code. It was a masterpiece of inaccessible design:

The form elements did not include clearly associated labels.

There were no instructions or guidance to help users complete the form.

The input requirement for the date format was not described.

The system used a CAPTCHA that was purely visual, with no audio alternative for someone like Lakshmi.

“You little ripper,” Dax whispered, but not in a good way. “They’re using color alone to convey information here. The ‘Required’ fields are just red boxes with no asterisks or labels. If you can’t see that specific shade of red, you’re stuffed”.

Liam stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “I can fix the content. Dev, get me into the markup.”

Dev bypassed the visual CAPTCHA by injecting a script that identified the non-text content through its metadata, though the Raven had tried to hide it. As the code bloomed across the screen, the trio saw the “Raven’s” true face. The “Shadow of the Raven’s Wing” was a script that intentionally removed the lang attribute from the html tag, making it impossible for screen readers to identify the primary language of the page.

The Audit Begins
“We need to audit this and flip it,” Liam commanded. “Dax, check the viewports.”

Dax began testing how the page information presented in different sized viewports. He ensured that when font size was increased by at least 200%, the content didn’t clip or require horizontal scrolling. “The Raven’s site breaks at mobile sizes,” Dax reported. “It’s not responsive design; it’s a digital wall”.

Liam focused on the text. He began rewriting the Raven’s cryptic error messages. Instead of saying “System Error 404-X,” he provided specific, understandable explanations and suggested corrections. He wrote in short, clear sentences and paragraphs, ensuring the information was as simple as possible for the context.

Dev, meanwhile, was doing the hard yakka in the backend. He was ensuring that every interactive element was keyboard accessible, especially the custom-made buttons the Raven had hidden in

tags. He used tabindex=”0″ to add those elements into the navigation order so they could receive focus.

“I’m also adding WAI-ARIA to provide information on the function and state of these custom widgets,” Dev grunted. “The Raven used aria-expanded=”false” on elements that were clearly open. It was a deliberate attempt to confuse assistive technology”.

The Raven Speaks
Suddenly, the terminal’s speakers crackled to life. It was an audio-only file, a podcast-style message with no transcript provided.

“They’re pulling a swifty,” Liam said, reaching for his headset. “They think because there’s no text, we can’t index the threat.”

“No dramas,” Dev replied. He quickly ran a speech-to-text algorithm, creating a real-time transcript that included not just the spoken information, but also the important sounds—like the distant caw of a bird in the background.

The transcript read: “You think you’re clever with your WCAG guidelines. But the desert doesn’t care about meaningful sequence. The sand doesn’t have a logical reading order. You’re carrying on like a pork chop in a world that has already moved past you”.

The Counter-Strike
The Three Best Friends didn’t flinch. They knew that providing easily identifiable feedback was the key to a successful interaction. They weren’t going to let the Raven’s unnecessarily technical language stop them.

“Dev, use the progressive enhancement strategy,” Liam said. “Ensure the core functionality is available regardless of the technology the Raven is using to block us.”

Dax added whitespace and proximity to the new interface they were building over the Raven’s ruins, making the relationships between the content more apparent. He styled the headings to group the related content, reducing clutter and making it easier for the next person who stumbled upon this servo to understand what was happening.

As the sun began to rise over the Outback, the terminal finally let out a long, defeated beep. The “Shadow” was lifted. The form now had clearly associated labels for every control. The images had meaningful text alternatives. The link text was meaningful, describing exactly where the user would go next.

“Good on ya, team,” Liam said, wiping sweat from his brow. “We just turned a ‘rejected status’ claim into a fully approved, accessible reality”.

“But the Raven is still out there,” Dev reminded them, pointing to a set of coordinates that had just appeared on the screen, marked clearly with a descriptive label. “And it looks like the next stop is an abandoned opal mine.”

Liam looked at his friends, then back at the esky. “Well, it’s going to be a long drive. But she’ll be right”.

#art #bloganuary #bloganuary202401 #bloganuary202402 #bloganuary202403 #bloganuary202404 #bloganuary202405 #bloganuary202408 #bloganuary202409 #bloganuary202411 #bloganuary202416 #bloganuary202428 #books #cocktail #culture #curiosity #dailyprompt #dailyprompt1804 #dailyprompt1805 #dailyprompt1806 #dailyprompt1807 #dailyprompt1808 #dailyprompt1811 #dailyprompt1812 #dailyprompt1814 #dailyprompt1819 #dailyprompt1839 #dailyprompt1851 #dailyprompt1859 #dailyprompt1860 #dailyprompt1880 #dailyprompt1891 #dailyprompt1895 #dailyprompt1931 #dailyprompt1937 #dailyprompt1951 #dailyprompt1975 #dailyprompt1976 #dailyprompt1978 #dailyprompt1981 #dailyprompt1982 #dailyprompt1983 #dailyprompt1984 #dailyprompt1985 #dailyprompt1987 #dailyprompt1988 #dailyprompt1994 #dailyprompt2007 #dailyprompt2008 #dailyprompt2010 #dailyprompt2011 #dailyprompt2012 #dailyprompt2013 #dailyprompt2014 #dailyprompt2059 #dailyprompt2089 #dailyprompt2099 #dailyprompt2112 #dailyprompt2113 #dailyprompt2115 #dailyprompt2124 #dailyprompt2125 #dailyprompt2126 #dailyprompt2127 #dailyprompt2129 #dailyprompt2132 #dailyprompt2134 #dailyprompt2137 #dailyprompt2138 #dailyprompt2145 #dailyprompt2146 #dailyprompt2152 #dailyprompt2153 #dailyprompt2159 #dailyprompt2160 #dailyprompt2167 #digitalGhost #drinks #EmotionsFeelingsSundayPowerOfASmileMyLifeWithYouSOULCHEERFULNESSFEELINGSHOPETearsSometimesAKissIsAllYouNeedTheSilenceLifeSelfWords #Evernote #everyday #Facebook #facts #food #hiking #HISTORY #IFTTT #Instagram #Ireland #Irish #Island #kitchen #language #learning #noMatterHowBadIsTogetherWeCanWin #Outback #photography #pictures #Pinterest #RECIPES #social #SUMMERSIMOTHEUNDERWORLD #SUMMERSIMOSGLITTERWAR #technology #ThreeBestFriends #travel #TRENTINOALTOADIGE

🎻 Ah, the elusive Bach Cello Suites, a digital ghost story where ModSecurity's overzealous bouncer blocks the door, declaring, "Not today, music lover!" 🎶 Meanwhile, the server laughs maniacally as it hides the greatest hits behind a wall of 403s, leaving us to wonder if Bach himself would approve of such a discordant digital fugue. 🤦‍♂️
https://bachcellosuites.co.uk/ #BachCelloSuites #ModSecurity #DigitalGhost #Story403s #MusicTech #HackerNews #ngated

🕶️ Incognito isn't just a mode — it's a mindset.

You open a window with no history, no cookies, no trace.
You're not hiding — you're choosing silence.

Use it for searches, plans, or moments that don’t belong to the algorithm.
It’s not total protection, but it’s a signal:
"I choose what gets remembered."

🖤 Privacy is power. Vanish with intent.

#Incognito #PrivacyFirst #DigitalGhost #BeUntraceable #CyberwiseCircle

I fade into the code’s mist, a ghost even to ghosts. Their eyes won’t find me. Stay sharp - guard your shadow. I’ll return when the ether calls. #PrivacyRebel #DigitalGhost #OffTheGrid

#OpSec #DigitalGhost

Certifications: The Shiny Badge of the Incompetent https://tomsitcafe.com/2025/03/20/certifications-the-shiny-badge-of-the-incompetent/ #CyberSecurity #Certificates #Knowledge #DeadSwitch #DigitalGhost #Wisdom

Star Trek Digital Ghost - #StarTrek #DigitalGhost #StarTrekFanProduction #HappyHalloween

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1yXeG5648x4

'Ghosts of #Antarctica' is a reflective short film I made a while ago when the first facial animation #ml #ai systems came out, mixed with a bit of roll-your-own. The idea was to use these conjunctions to bring new life and emotion to the faces of #Australian #Antarctic scientists and explorers of the #HeroicEra in the early #TwentiethCentury. I loved the idea of seeing them looking back upon what they had achieved, the relationships between them (sometimes problematic) and a kind of fictive memory. An homage to the remarkable work of pioneering Australian cinematographer, #FrankHurley (1885-1962), 'Ghosts of Antarctica' uses #DeepLearning approaches to colourise and animate images from 100-year-old glass-plate photographs and film footage taken by Hurley and others during the 1911-14 #AustralasianAntarcticExpedition. #DigitalHeritage #DigitalHumanities #DigitalHistory #DigitalGhost #DouglasMawson
https://vimeo.com/530149362