Many years ago, my friend Dan made a robot to answer telemarketers, an effort that presaged Google Duplex, but without the pesky need for the AI.

The story of how Anne Marie Hagan forgave the man who killed her father, told to the CBC’s Piya Chattopadhyay on the May 6 episode of Out in the Open, is one of the most powerful pieces of radio I’ve heard in a long time.

Of all the things I’ve designed, set and printed for letterpress, this might be my favourite: a Prince Edward Island postcard.

The outline of the Island comes from the collection of letterpress cuts passed on to me by Ian Scott and Daphne Large.

The typeface is a font of Kaufman Bold one that artist Jennifer Brown pulled out of her garage for me, helpfully sorted for use by Christina Clorey. McGrew describes the face, designed by Max R. Kaufmann for American Type Founders in 1936, as having a “contemporary look and high degree of legibility,” which is certainly a quality we should all aspire to in all regards (you may recognize it from “with David Letterman” on the marquee of the Ed Sullivan Theatre in New York City).

On the reverse side–this is a postcard, after all, and deserved the usual accoutrements–is a “Printed on a 1915 Golding letterpress in Charlottetown” caption, a line-rule down the middle to separate message from address, and a box to indicate where the stamp should go:

With two sides, and two colours, each postcard took three trips through the Golding Jobber № 8 letterpress to complete. I printed a set of 75, and am pondering what the most appropriate venue for distributing them is.

Exactly at the appointed minute of 1:55 Atlantic today my Android mobile phone went into emergency alert mode, emitting an annoying klaxon-like sound and popping up an “Emergency Alert” notification that it then read out loud to me. This first alert was from the Nova Scotia Emergency Management Office; about 4 seconds later a similar alert came in from the PEI EMO.

I’m note sure why I got the Nova Scotia alert as well as the PEI one, but I’m assuming it has something to do with our shared 902 area code; I don’t begrudge the extra notice, though: if Godzilla is stomping through Truro, I want to know about it so I can batten down the hatches here.

Danny Gregory on the value of embedding yourself in a creative community:

You may think you are not a Van Gogh. But have you gone to Paris? Have you taken advantage of the impact a creative community can make?

Brings to mind Ian Williams’ post I have several criteria, from 2002:

I have several criteria for the places I want to live: as I’ve said before, I want a healthy gay population (even though I’m not gay, I feel more comfortable when the queers are around), an indie bookstore and movie theater, and a coffee shop that serves frappuccino-like crap with whipped cream. Bonus points also go to neighborhoods with ne’er-do-well teens on skateboards, really good basketball hoops with nets, a park within walking distance, and either the view of a large body of water or a mountain. Park Slope has all that stuff except the water or mountain.

But after looking at the map, I’ve hit upon another really good way to pick a place to live, especially in New York: check out the blogs per subway station ratio on the nycbloggers website. I’d say that if you didn’t know anything about the town, simply picking a subway stop that has 10 or more bloggers represented is a good place to start.

These days we can forget that in blogging’s flourishing heyday it was both a solitary act and one conducted in community (albeit community often far-flung).

Voyages in sentence space: prose, demo and code from Robin Sloan. I understand only a sliver, but the notion is fascinating.

Here’s my sentence gradient (I wrote the first and the last; the machines filled in the middle).

I bought a case of line rule from a chap in Vermont a few years ago, but hadn’t taken it out until yesterday when I used it to prototype the back of a postcard design.

After The Day That Didn’t Go So Well, back on New Years Eve 2016, Oliver was loathe to experience the exigencies of airport security any time soon, so the last 18 months have been a sort of Dark Ages of Travel, with our adventures restricted to land-based transport.

On Saturday, however, thanks to the good graces of the Autism Society, Air Canada, Charlottetown Airport and Danny Murphy, Oliver was able to try climbing back on the airport horse to see how it felt.

And it felt pretty good, he reports.

Saturday, you see, was Autism Aviators day at the airport, an event where young people with autism could try flying on for size. Although there was no flying involved–a few moments in Danny Murphy’s private jet, on the ground, was the proxy–the rest of the proceedings were a realistic simulation of airport logistics: check-in, baggage screening, security, waiting in the departure lounge, boarding, landing, and picking up luggage.

Oliver’s an old hand at most of this; it was the security screening that he was worried about. But he remained calm. And I remained calm. And the CATSA agents remained calm. And Ethan the Dog remained calm. And we just sailed right through, unscathed.

Here’s what we looked at once we reached the departure lounge a few moments later:

Can you tell we are relieved and happy?

The day was successful enough that Oliver is, indeed, ready to climb back on the flying horse, and plans are afoot to determine how we will use this newfound freedom.

All involved in organizing this event should feel proud of their commitment to accessibility. Thank you.

Kaweco make a lovely fountain pen. Thank you to The Bookmark for keeping a good selection in stock.