Watch Carl Sagan’s “A Glorious Dawn” Become the First Vinyl Record Played in Space, Courtesy of Jack White

Third Man Records, the record label cre­at­ed by The White Stripes’ Jack White, announced Sat­ur­day that they’ve made his­to­ry by launch­ing a “space-proof” turntable into space (near space, to be pre­cise), using a high-alti­tude bal­loon to reach a peak alti­tude of 94,413 feet. Their goal was to “send a vinyl record up as high as pos­si­ble and doc­u­ment it being played there.” And that they did.

Accord­ing to their press release, for “the entire hour and twen­ty min­utes of ascen­sion, the Icarus turntable faith­ful­ly played Carl Sagan’s “A Glo­ri­ous Dawn” (from “Cos­mos” by Sym­pho­ny of Sci­ence com­pos­er John Boswell) on repeat, using an impres­sive­ly stur­dy phono car­tridge and sty­lus as well as an onboard flight com­put­er pro­grammed with a few dif­fer­ent actions to keep the record play­ing while it was safe to do so.” Even­tu­al­ly, when the bal­loon popped (around the 83rd minute), the turntable went into “tur­bu­lence mode” and safe­ly sur­vived the descent back down to earth. You can watch the entire his­toric voyage–all two hours of it–in the video above.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch His­toric Footage of Joseph Kittinger’s 102,800 Jump from Space (1960)

How Vinyl Records Are Made: A Primer from 1956

How to Clean Your Vinyl Records with Wood Glue

How to Start a Start-Up: A Free Online Course from Y Combinator Taught at Stanford

If you have any entre­pre­neur­ial aspi­ra­tions, you’ve like­ly heard of Y Com­bi­na­tor (YC), an accel­er­a­tor based in Sil­i­con Val­ley that’s been called “the world’s most pow­er­ful start-up incu­ba­tor” (Fast Com­pa­ny) or “a spawn­ing ground for emerg­ing tech giants” (For­tune). Twice a year, YC care­ful­ly selects a batch of start-ups, gives them $120,000 of seed fund­ing each (in exchange for some equi­ty), and then helps nur­ture the fledg­ling ven­tures to the next stage of devel­op­ment. YC hosts din­ners where promi­nent entre­pre­neurs come to speak and offer advice. They hold “Demo Days,” where the start-ups can pitch their con­cepts and prod­ucts to investors, and they have “Office Hours,” where bud­ding entre­pre­neurs can work through prob­lems with the sea­soned entre­pre­neurs who run YC. Then, with a lit­tle luck, these new start-ups will expe­ri­ence the same suc­cess as pre­vi­ous YC com­pa­nies, Drop­box and Airbnb.

Giv­en Y Com­bi­na­tor’s mis­sion, it makes per­fect sense that YC has ties with Stan­ford Uni­ver­si­ty, anoth­er insti­tu­tion that has hatched giant tech com­pa­nies–Google, Cis­co, Yahoo and more. Back in 2014, Sam Alt­man (the pres­i­dent of Y Com­bi­na­tor) put togeth­er a course at Stan­ford called “How to Start a Start-Up,” which essen­tial­ly offers stu­dents an intro­duc­tion to the key lessons taught to YC com­pa­nies. Alt­man presents the first two lec­tures. Then some of the biggest names in Sil­i­con Val­ley take over. Dustin Moskovitz (Face­book co-founder), Peter Thiel (Pay­Pal co-founder), Marc Andreessen (Netscape creator/general part­ner of Andreessen Horowitz), Maris­sa May­er (Yahoo CEO, promi­nent Googler), Reid Hoff­man (LinkedIn co-founder), Ron Con­way (Sil­i­con Val­ley super angel), Paul Gra­ham (YC founder)–they all make an appear­ance in the course.

You can watch the com­plete set of 20 lec­tures above, which cov­ers every­thing you need to start a start-up–from cre­at­ing a team, to build­ing prod­ucts users love, to rais­ing mon­ey, to cre­at­ing the right cul­ture and beyond. Alt­man’s site also fea­tures a rec­om­mend­ed read­ing list, plus a set of addi­tion­al resources. (Bonus: A George­town under­grad has cre­at­ed an ebook pulling togeth­er the class notes from the course. If you down­load it, please donate a few bucks so he can pick up some ramen.) The videos for “How to Start a Start-Up”–which will be added to our col­lec­tion of Free Online Busi­ness Cours­es–can be found on YouTube and iTunes U.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Entre­pre­neur­ship Through the Lens of Ven­ture Cap­i­tal: A Free Online Course from Stan­ford

Peter Thiel’s Stan­ford Course on Star­tups: Read the Lec­ture Notes Free Online

Start Your Start­up with Free Stan­ford Cours­es and Lec­tures

Down­load Marc Andreessen’s Influ­en­tial Blog (“Pmar­ca”) as a Free eBook

1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties

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The Source Code for the Apollo 11 Moon Landing Mission Is Now Free on Github

Apollo 11

If you lis­ten to the con­spir­a­cy the­o­rists, they’ll tell you that Stan­ley Kubrick helped fake the Apol­lo 11 moon land­ing mis­sion in 1969. Remem­ber the vin­tage moon land­ing footage you’ve seen? Kubrick appar­ent­ly shot the breath­tak­ing video on a sound stage in Huntsville, Alaba­ma, draw­ing on the spe­cial effects he per­fect­ed while shoot­ing 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968).

That’s how they explain that arti­fact. I won­der how they deal with this?: On Github, you can now down­load the source code for Apol­lo 11’s com­mand and lunar mod­ules. Orig­i­nal­ly writ­ten by pro­gram­mers at the MIT Instru­men­ta­tion Lab­o­ra­to­ry in the mid-1960s, the code, accord­ing to Quartz, was recent­ly put online by NASA intern Chris Gar­ry, mak­ing it freely avail­able to the cod­ing com­mu­ni­ty. You can find it all here and start hack­ing your way through the reams of obscure, vin­tage code. Skep­tics can put their the­o­ries in the com­ments sec­tion below.

via Quartz 

Relat­ed Con­tent

Michio Kaku & Noam Chom­sky School Moon Land­ing and 9/11 Con­spir­a­cy The­o­rists

8,400 Stun­ning High-Res Pho­tos From the Apol­lo Moon Mis­sions Are Now Online

Stan­ley Kubrick Faked the Apol­lo 11 Moon Land­ing in 1969, Or So the Con­spir­a­cy The­o­ry Goes

Free Online Com­put­er Sci­ence Cours­es

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David Lynch Despises Product Placement & Watching Movies on iPhones (NSFW)

When one first encoun­ters the sur­re­al sen­si­bil­i­ties of David Lynch on film, it’s hard to know what to expect of the man behind them. Is he a tor­tured recluse, work­ing out his demons onscreen? A dement­ed auteur with issues? But Lynch’s explo­rations of the vio­lence and sadism lurk­ing beneath America’s shiny veneer come to us too leav­ened by absur­dist humor to be the prod­uct of a man who takes him­self too seri­ous­ly.

And when you first encounter Lynch—in inter­views or his own cameo role, say, on Twin Peaks—you find exact­ly that: he’s an affa­ble, seem­ing­ly well-adjust­ed-if-eccen­tric gen­tle­man from Mis­soula, Mon­tana who doesn’t at all seem beset by dark forces in the way that many of his mem­o­rable char­ac­ters have been over many decades of film­mak­ing. Lynch seems instead remark­ably free from anx­i­ety, as his work is free from the per­ni­cious influ­ences of a venal Hol­ly­wood stu­dio cul­ture he evis­cer­ates in Mul­hol­land Dri­ve.

Lynch would cred­it his psy­cho­log­i­cal and cre­ative good health to med­i­ta­tion, but there are oth­er rea­sons that his body of work feels so con­sis­tent­ly ele­vat­ed to the lev­el of purist high art: the film­mak­er him­self is a purist when it comes to film—perhaps one of the last few high-pro­file direc­tors to remain almost ful­ly inde­pen­dent of the dic­tates of com­mer­cial­ism. Wit­ness his atti­tude toward such crude, inva­sive com­pro­mis­es as prod­uct place­ment in the inter­view clip at the top of the post (Lynch’s ver­dict in a word: “bull­shit”).

Or, just above, see him opine on the phe­nom­e­non of the iPhone, or smart­phone equiv­a­lent, as media plat­form. “If you’re play­ing the movie on a tele­phone,” says Lynch, “you will nev­er in a mil­lion years expe­ri­ence the film. You may think you have expe­ri­enced it. But you’ll be cheat­ed…. Get real.” Like the inter­view clip at the top, the iPhone mini-rant—an extra from the Inland Empire DVD, Lynch’s last fea­ture film—shows us the direc­tor at his cranki­est, a side that of him that seems to emerge only when the sub­ject of artis­tic com­pro­mise for commerce’s sake aris­es.

But should we con­sid­er Lynch a Lud­dite, an oppo­nent of the dig­i­tal rev­o­lu­tion in film­mak­ing? Far from it. Lynch shot Inland Empire on a small dig­i­tal cam­era, as you can hear him dis­cuss above in anoth­er clip from the film’s DVD. And if we were to assume that he hates Hol­ly­wood and the stu­dio sys­tem, we’d be wrong there as well. He goes on to explain what he loves about L.A.: the dream, the light, the smell, the feel of the “gold­en age of Hol­ly­wood,” the sound stages (“fac­to­ries for mak­ing cin­e­ma”), and even the star sys­tem. Keep watch­ing for more of Lynch’s idio­syn­crat­ic opinions—on his favorite actress Lau­ra Dern, on “mak­ing films for a par­tic­u­lar audi­ence,” and on a sub­ject very dear to him: “dreams influ­enc­ing thoughts.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

David Lynch Explains How Med­i­ta­tion Enhances Our Cre­ativ­i­ty

David Lynch Cre­ates a Very Sur­re­al Plug for Tran­scen­den­tal Med­i­ta­tion

9 New Episodes of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks to Air in 2016

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

1930s Fashion Designers Predict How People Would Dress in the Year 2000

From 1930 to 1941, Pathetone Week­ly ran film clips that high­light­ed ‘the nov­el, the amus­ing and the strange.’ At some point dur­ing the 1930s (the exact date isn’t clear), Pathetone asked Amer­i­can design­ers to look rough­ly 70 years into the future and haz­ard a guess about how women might dress in Year 2000. Appar­ent­ly, fash­ion design­ers don’t make great futur­ists, and the designs fell rather wide of the mark — unless you want to count Lady Gaga’s wardrobe, in which case they didn’t do a half bad job. Or, for that mat­ter, the male con­nect­ed 24/7 to his phone and sundry gad­gets…

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How French Artists in 1899 Envi­sioned Life in the Year 2000: Draw­ing the Future

Isaac Asimov’s 1964 Pre­dic­tions About What the World Will Look 50 Years Lat­er — in 2014

Arthur C. Clarke Pre­dicts the Future in 1964 … And Kind of Nails It

In 1900, Ladies’ Home Jour­nal Pub­lish­es 28 Pre­dic­tions for the Year 2000

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Explore Harvard’s Iconic Spaces with 360° Interactive Videos

For me, noth­ing cap­tures those occa­sion­al feel­ings of post-grad­u­ate yearn­ing like “I Wish I Could Go Back to Col­lege,” a N‑quite-SFW track from the Broad­way musi­cal, Avenue Q.

With all due respect, it feels like the five mem­bers of Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty’s just-grad­u­at­ed Class of 2016 shar­ing their rec­ol­lec­tions in the inter­ac­tive 360° video project, Har­vard Stu­dents Say Farewell, left a few cru­cial details out. (Note: Youtube 360 videos only work in Chrome, Fire­fox, Inter­net Explor­er, or Opera browsers.)

It’s com­plete­ly safe for prospec­tive par­ents, not a keg or con­dom wrap­per in sight. (The project is host­ed on Harvard’s offi­cial Youtube chan­nel.)

Unsur­pris­ing­ly, Har­vard appears to have been the par­tic­i­pants’ uni­ver­sal first choice of col­lege. Hasty Pud­ding per­former, Joshuah Camp­bell, above, a self-described “Black kid from the coun­try,” con­fides that it was the only place he applied to.

He may have arrived won­der­ing how he would fit in, but four years lat­er, his grub­by dorm room is one of the “icon­ic” Har­vard loca­tions view­ers can explore dig­i­tal­ly as he briefly reflects upon his expe­ri­ence.

That’s about as down and dirty as this series gets. The human sub­jects seem to have been select­ed with an eye toward diver­si­ty and humil­i­ty, rather than the clenched Boston Brah­min jaw that once defined the insti­tu­tion.

Mean­while, the libraries, quads, and the­aters through which this new breed of Har­vard men and women wan­der attest to the place’s ongo­ing exclu­siv­i­ty.

Sree­ja Kala­pu­rakkel, above, a mem­ber of the Har­vard South Asian Dance Com­pa­ny, knew what she was get­ting into, as a stu­dent at a respect­ed Boston sec­ondary school. Short­ly after grad­u­a­tion, she sung Har­vard’s prais­es some­what more frankly on her Face­book page:

Each day of my time at Har­vard was filled with every­thing that makes life beau­ti­ful: dark­ness, strug­gle, despair, lone­li­ness, friend­ship, hope, per­se­ver­ance, light. Every expe­ri­ence, every les­son, every friend trans­formed me into some­one more human and gave me some­thing new to fight for.

Har­vard, like every oth­er col­lege in the land, has relaxed its pol­i­cy on end­ing a sen­tence in a prepo­si­tion.

Ana-Maria Con­stan­tin arrived sight unseen from her native Roma­nia to pull us out onto the deck of the Smith­son­ian Astro­phys­i­cal Obser­va­to­ry.

On to the lock­er room! Hock­ey cap­tain Kyle Criscuo­lo joins the Detroit Red Wings, reflect­ing that Har­vard stu­dent ath­letes enjoy no spe­cial treat­ment. In future, the uni­ver­si­ty may want to require them to lis­ten to Will Stephen’s lec­ture, “How to Sound Smart in a TED Talk.” Criscuo­lo sounds sin­cere, but also stiff, as if read­ing from a sheet of paper, or the dig­i­tal equiv­a­lent there­of.

(There­of is an adverb, by the way. Not a prepo­si­tion. I checked.)

Har­vard Art Muse­ums Stu­dent Board mem­ber Rachel Thomp­son paints her­self so meek­ly, I’m tempt­ed to check with her fresh­man year room­mate. Was she real­ly so filled with self doubt? I’ve always assumed Har­vard accep­tance let­ters would puff the recip­i­ent up. Good lord, imag­ine the effect the rejec­tion let­ters must have!

Use a mouse to explore the immer­sive envi­ron­ment on your com­put­er, or the YouTube app to nav­i­gate on a mobile device. Use a vir­tu­al real­i­ty head­set and the Har­vard Crim­son staff’s vocab­u­lary list to enhance the expe­ri­ence even more.

The com­plete playlist is here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Har­vard Presents Free Cours­es with the Open Learn­ing Ini­tia­tive

NPR Launch­es Data­base of Best Com­mence­ment Speech­es Ever

The Har­vard Clas­sics: Down­load All 51 Vol­umes as Free eBooks

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine, and a North­west­ern Uni­ver­si­ty grad. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

The History of Electronic Music, 1800–2015: Free Web Project Catalogues the Theremin, Fairlight & Other Instruments That Revolutionized Music

fairlight_cmi_03

Hang around this site long enough and you’ll learn a thing or two about elec­tron­ic music, whether it’s a very brief his­to­ry of the Moog syn­the­siz­er, or the Theremin, or an enor­mous, obscure ancient ances­tor, the Tel­har­mo­ni­um. These mini-lessons are dwarfed, how­ev­er, by the amount of infor­ma­tion you’ll find on the site 120 Years of Elec­tron­ic Music, where­in you can read about such strange crea­tures as the Choral­celo, the Stac­ca­tone, the Pianorad, Cellu­phone, Elec­tronde, and Vibroex­pona­tor. Such odd­i­ties abound in the very long his­to­ry of elec­tron­ic musi­cal instru­ments, which the site defines as “instru­ments that gen­er­ate sounds from a pure­ly elec­tron­ic source rather than elec­tro-mechan­i­cal­ly or elec­tro-acousti­cal­ly.”

clavecin_magnetique_02-6

Despite these rather strict tech­ni­cal para­me­ters, the site’s author Simon Crab admits that the bound­aries “do become blurred with, say, Tone Wheel Gen­er­a­tors and tape manip­u­la­tion of the Musique Con­crete era.” Then there are pre­cur­sor instru­ments that pre­date the dis­cov­ery and har­ness­ing of elec­tric­i­ty, such as the Clavecin Mag­ne­tique, above, invent­ed by Abbé Bertholon de Saint-Lazare in 1789, a “sim­ple instru­ment which pro­duced sounds by attract­ing met­al clap­pers to strike tuned bells by rais­ing and low­er­ing mag­nets oper­at­ed by a key­board.”

Klaviaturspharaphon

Yet the pri­ma­ry focus of 120 Years of Elec­tron­ic Music is a peri­od of growth and devel­op­ment from the late 1800s to the 1970s, when ear­ly dig­i­tal syn­the­siz­ers like the Fairlight (top) appeared. Thus, we should not expect here “an exhaus­tive list of recent com­mer­cial syn­the­siz­ers or soft­ware packages”—the stuff of mod­ern dance, pop, hip-hop, etc. Crab’s intent is aca­d­e­m­ic, “ency­clo­pe­dic, ped­a­gog­i­cal,” and pitched to musi­col­o­gists as well as “Syn­the­siz­er Geeks” like­ly to appre­ci­ate the niceties of the 1961 DIMI & Helsin­ki Elec­tron­ic Music Stu­dio.

But even non-aca­d­e­mics and non-geeks can learn much from the his­to­ry of such unusu­al instru­ments as the Klaviatur­sphäraphon (above), one of sev­er­al cre­ations of Ger­man com­pos­er Jörg Mager in his pur­suit of “a new type of utopi­an ‘free’ music by means of new elec­tron­ic cath­ode-ray musi­cal instru­ments.”

Amidst the weird obscu­ri­ties and high-con­cept musi­cal the­o­ry, you’ll also find old favorites that rev­o­lu­tion­ized pop music, like the Ham­mond Organ (see a mak­ing-of pro­mo­tion­al video above), the var­i­ous iter­a­tions of Moog syn­the­siz­ers, and of course the Fairlight CMI (short for Com­put­er Musi­cal Instru­ment). Invent­ed by Kim Ryrie and Peter Vogel in Aus­tralia in 1979, the Fairlight is affec­tion­ate­ly known as the “moth­er of all sam­plers,” and its tech­nol­o­gy jump­start­ed the rev­o­lu­tion in com­put­er music from the 80s to today. You can see Vogel demon­strate the first ver­sion of his Fairlight in this video, or—for a slight­ly less geeky intro—see Peter Gabriel demon­strate it below (or watch Her­bie Han­cock and Quin­cy Jones show you how it’s done in a clip from Sesame Street.)

The Ham­mond, Moogs, and Fairlight aside, very few of the instru­ments fea­tured on 120 Years of Elec­tron­ic Music had any kind of direct impact on pop­u­lar music. But many of them, like Hugh Le Caine’s 1945 Elec­tron­ic Sack­but, influ­enced the influ­encers, and they all rep­re­sent some evo­lu­tion­ary step for­ward, or side­ways, in the devel­op­ment of the sounds we hear all around us now in every pos­si­ble genre.

Addi­tion­al­ly, Crab’s his­tor­i­cal project explores what he calls “the dichoto­my between rad­i­cal cul­ture and rad­i­cal social change,” with dis­cus­sions on the links between Bol­she­vism and the avant-garde and mod­ernism and fascism—discussions of keen inter­est to cul­tur­al his­to­ri­ans and crit­i­cal the­o­rists. Oh, and the name? “The project,” Crab explains, “was begun in 1996; con­sid­er­ing elec­tron­ic music start­ed around 1880 this was quite an accu­rate title for the time.” It’s now “a bit out of date but… some­thing of a brand-name.” We’ll for­give him this minor chrono­log­i­cal inac­cu­ra­cy for the tremen­dous ser­vice his open access ency­clo­pe­dia offers to schol­ars and enthu­si­asts alike. Explore it here.

via Elec­tron­ic Beats

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Meet the “Tel­har­mo­ni­um,” the First Syn­the­siz­er (and Pre­de­ces­sor to Muzak), Invent­ed in 1897

Dis­cov­er­ing Elec­tron­ic Music: 1983 Doc­u­men­tary Offers a Fun & Edu­ca­tion­al Intro­duc­tion to Elec­tron­ic Music

Hear the Great­est Hits of Isao Tomi­ta (RIP), the Father of Japan­ese Elec­tron­ic Music

The His­to­ry of Elec­tron­ic Music in 476 Tracks (1937–2001)

Hear Sev­en Hours of Women Mak­ing Elec­tron­ic Music (1938- 2014)

Pio­neer­ing Elec­tron­ic Com­pos­er Karl­heinz Stock­hausen Presents “Four Cri­te­ria of Elec­tron­ic Music” & Oth­er Lec­tures in Eng­lish (1972)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

How to Build Stuff: A Free Short Course on Making Prototypes by Entrepreneur Dan Gelbart

Dan Gel­bart, a Van­cou­ver-based elec­tri­cal engi­neer, helped cre­ate a com­pa­ny called Creo, which Kodak bought in 2005 for rough­ly $1 bil­lion. If you read Gel­bart’s short auto­bi­og­ra­phy here, you can learn about the arc of his career: About how, dur­ing his ear­ly years, he start­ed work­ing for a tech com­pa­ny that pro­duced high-speed film recorders. And about how Gel­bart told the com­pa­ny that he could build a bet­ter film recorder, at a cheap­er price. And he could do it in the base­ment of his home. He explains:

After a crash course in optics, I changed the design [of the recorder], but sur­pris­ing­ly man­aged to deliv­er a ship­pable pro­to­type in 12 months with only one per­son work­ing with me. I had a small met­al­work­ing work­shop at home, many of the machines home-built, and this allowed me to fab­ri­cate most of the parts for the pro­to­type myself.

I now have a won­der­ful CNC machine shop at home, but I don’t have the bound­less enthu­si­asm of those days. How­ev­er, I still build all my pro­to­types myself, find­ing it to be faster than send­ing out draw­ings and wait­ing for parts.

Above, you can watch what Gel­bart calls “A Short Course on How to Build Stuff,” a series of 18 videos designed for stu­dents and sci­en­tists who want to build pro­to­types very quick­ly, using machines that are easy to mas­ter. Writes Make mag­a­zine, the “series begins by demon­strat­ing how to use and mod­i­fy his favorite shop tools, and reveals all kinds of enlight­en­ing short­cuts that make com­pli­cat­ed assem­blies triv­ial to pro­duce. There is a true art to uncom­pli­cat­ing things, a rar­i­ty for some engi­neers.”

You can access the com­plete playlist here. Indi­vid­ual top­ics include:

1. Intro­duc­tion
2. Safe­ty
3. Water­jet
4. Bend­ing
5. Spot Weld­ing
6. Coat­ings
7. Press­work
8. Enclo­sures
9. Mate­ri­als
10. Flex­ures
11. Non-met­als
12. Plas­tics Form­ing and Cast­ing
13. Large Struc­tures
14. Braz­ing
15. Mill and Lathe
16. Machin­ing
17. High Accu­ra­cy
18. Design

Gel­bart’s course will be added to our col­lec­tion, 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties.

via Metafil­ter

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