RoboRoach + Twitter = Crowdsourced cockroach steering

#cyborgcockroacheswillruletheworld

Artist Brittany Ransom has built a tiny cockroach backpack which lets her remote control a cockroach with Twitter. For science art! CNET has a video of the insectoid cyborg:

Ransom let visitors to the Chicago Artists' Coalition's exhibition Life, in some form control the roach by tweeting the hashtags #turnroachleft and #turnroachright at its twitter account, @tweetroach. Every thirty seconds, the winning hashtag was sent as a command to the insect through the RoboRoach control circuit.

Ransom passed on her artist's statement to CNET:

At what point does its intelligence and ability take over? How much does it take before we are all desensitized to overstimulation? As we, as human beings, grow more cyborgian and interconnected through social media, this project helps us participate in discovering the answer.

While Ransom's point is compelling, the real wizardry lies in the RoboRoach gear itself. Created and sold by neuroscience hackers Backyard Brains, the kit lets anyone build cyborg cockroaches at home (some assembly required).

After some minor roach surgery, it sends small electric currents to the roaches antennae, making it think it's running into a wall. Zap the left antennae, and it'll turn right, and vice-versa.

Backyard Brains describe the experiments you can do with the kit:

You can use this experimental model to teach your students about current neurotechnology. For example, 1) How long before the cockroach adapts to the stimulation and learns to ignore it?, and 2) What is the optimal circuit design to make the electronics as simple and light as possible?

It's like a 21st century spin to the idea that cockroaches will survive nuclear war: TwitterRoach will probably learn to adapt to and ignore twitter long before we do. The ultimate survivor indeed.

Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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The art of the YouTube Poop

What are YouTube Poops and why do we need them now, more than ever?

“The world today doesn't make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do?”

So, allegedly, said Pablo Picasso in a shrewd attempt to justify his love of putting noses where noses don’t actually go. It is imperative that you now hold this profound quotation firmly in your mind whilst you watch this four minutes and 57 second long clip of Arthur – the cartoon aardvark – being tormented by squirrels.

What you have just seen is an example of the art form primarily known as “YouTube Poop” (YTP). Beginning in the early Noughties, this cultural movement is characterised by confusing and shocking edits of Saturday-morning cartoons, video games, and viral videos. Though the Tens have seen the genre decline in popularity, the YTP is, nonetheless, one of the defining innovations of our era.

Those in the Poop community don’t actually like being labelled as artists, as one Yale student found out when he attempted to define them as such on the University’s technology blog. Though they have been compared to Dadaism, YTPs are more vile, violent, and most importantly, nonsensical than most artworks, but this is precisely why they are an asset to our age. In a world where – sorry Pablo, you got nothing on us – absolutely zero things makes sense, it is time for the YTP to have a comeback.

Despite its seeming randomness, the world of YTP is not without its rules. “Poopisms” are the common techniques and tricks used in videos to ensure they qualify as a true Poop. They include “stutter loops” (the repetition of clips over and over), “staredowns” (freezing the frame on a particular facial expression), and the questionably-named “ear rape” (suddenly increasing the volume to shock the viewer). One of the most humorous techniques is “sentence mixing”: forcing characters to say new sentences by cutting and splicing things they have said.

There are also firm rules about what not to do. Panning across a clip without adding another Poopism at the same time is considered boring, whilst using your own voice to dub clips is seen as amateur. By far the biggest barrier that Poopers* face in creating their videos, however, is the law.

Despite what many eight-year-olds on YouTube think, declaring that something is a “parody” in the description of a video does not make it exempt from copyright laws. The video below – regarded by at least two commenters as “the best YouTube Poop” ever – is missing audio 20 minutes in, as the creator was hit by a copyright claim.

Yet even the iron fist of the law cannot truly stop Poopers, who are still going (relatively) strong after the first YTP was created in 2004. YouTube Poops now even have their own Wikipedia page, as well as a page on TV Tropes and a WikiHow guide on how to create them, and for good measure, avoid them.

YouTube Poops have therefore undoubtedly secured their place in history, and whilst you might wander into a comment section to declare “What have I just watched?”, remember that Pablo Picasso once said: “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” He almost definitely wasn’t talking about “You are a Sad Strange Little Man” by cartoonlover98, but still.

* The term “Poopists” was rejected by the community for being “too arty”.

 

Amelia Tait is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman.