Technique

I Was an Under-Age Semiotician

I was, you see, a semiotics major at Brown University, during a remarkable spell in the 1980s when semiotics was allegedly the third-most-popular major in the humanities there, despite being a field (and a word) that drew nothing but blank stares at family cocktail parties and job interviews. “Ah, semiotics,” a distant relative once said to me during winter break. “The study of how plants grow in light. Very important field.”

The obscurity of the field was partly the point. In Jeffrey Eugenides’s new novel, “The Marriage Plot,” which takes place in part at Brown in the early 1980s, the heroine first stumbles across the semiotics program when a friend comes home with a copy of Jacques Derrida’s “Of Grammatology”: “When Madeleine asked what the book was about, she was given to understand by Whitney that the idea of a book being ‘about’ something was exactly what this book was against, and that, if it was ‘about’ anything, then it was about the need to stop thinking of books as being about things.”

Greek for the “science of signs,” semiotics as a field dates back to fin de siècle philosophers and linguists like C. S. Peirce and Ferdinand De Saussure; in modern times it is most commonly associated with Umberto Eco. The general thrust of pure semiotics is a kind of linguistics-based social theory; if language shapes our thought, and our thought shapes our culture, then if we are looking for a master key to make sense of culture, it makes sense to start with the fundamental structures of language itself: signs, symbols, metaphors, narrative devices, figures of speech. You could interpret a Reagan speech using these tools as readily as you could a Nike ad.

-- Steven Johnson, "I Was an Under-Age Semiotician," New York Times, October 14, 2011

I Wanted to Create My Own Hand

What started as an idea to print a 3D hand for herself has turned into a passion project for 13-year-old Lois Agnello and her school.

The year 7 student, who was born with only part of her left hand, approached her science and technology teacher to see if she could use the school's 3D printer to make the hand.

"Being born without a hand doesn't really stop me," Lois said.

"I wanted to create my own hand with my friends so I could show them what it's like."

The Homeostat

"The Homeostat," Doctor Sparke explained, "is about the size of a thin pound box of candy, is enclosed in a titanium case, and is powered by a well-shielded store of nuclear material. Built chest-high into the oceanaut's suit, it is crammed with hundreds of miniature parts much too complicated for me to describe. The Homeostat becomes the vital 'organs' of the oceanaut by means of a plastic tube that extends from the top and is inserted into and coupled to an opening made in the throat just below the Adam's apple. An open system through which water constantly flows, the Homeostat provides the oceanaut with food manufactured from plankton, and oxygen and fresh water derived from the sea. At the same time it eliminates CO2 and other wastes as it maintains a steady flow of vitamins, of coco de mono, a South American drug which checks the growth of hair, and also a psychic energizer that enables the oceanaut to function eighteen hours without tiring."

Louis Wolfe, Journey of the Oceanauts (1968)