Small metal wire bristles can detach from the brushes and stick to the Rocket Chef Turbo Grill cooking or food, posing an ingestion hazard and risk of serious internal injuries that could require surgery. This recall involves certain Walmart Expert Rocket Chef Turbo Grill ceramic grill metal wire bristle Rocket Chef Turbo Grill grilling brushes. The brushes have black plastic or stainless-steel handles. Some brushes come with metal scraper attached. Consumers will be asked to return their recalled brushes to Walmart or discard them. Dual Fuel Ranges with a missing cap from the gas test port can cause a gas leak, posing a risk of serious injury or death from fire or explosion hazards. The cups and containers violate the mandatory standard for consumer products with button cell and coin batteries because they contain button cell batteries that can be accessed easily by children, posing an ingestion hazard. In addition, the products do not bear the warning labels required by Reese’s Law. If button cell or coin batteries are swallowed, the ingested batteries can cause serious injuries, including internal chemical burns, and death. The recalled refrigerators’ internal electrical components can short circuit and ignite, posing a risk of serious injury or death from fire and burn hazards. The recalled coffeemakers can become clogged, causing hot liquid or steam to build up and be released unexpectedly during use, posing a risk of serious injury from burn hazard. The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) is charged with protecting the public from unreasonable risk of injury associated with the use of thousands of types of consumer products. Deaths, injuries, and property damage from consumer product-related incidents cost the nation more than $1 trillion annually. Since the CPSC was established more than 50 years ago, it has worked to ensure the safety of consumer products, which has contributed to a decline in injuries associated with these products.
A parasitic blight has woven itself into the fabric of our tools. With godlike precision, it tracks our behavior, learns our preferences, and anticipates our weaknesses. It knows everything, and it follows us everywhere. If we stray too far from its influence, our Happy Boxes dispatch reminders to Consume. Potent videodrugs lull us into mental anesthesia, then milk us for all we're worth. Our eyes kinda hurt. A familiar bitter flavor is faintly detected; this Content has been laced with something. The Algorithm looks on as additive advertisements steep in our subconsciouses. Maybe I should buy another mechanical keyboard? Our thoughts have been planted, and our carts floweth over. Were we moving too fast? Did we break too many things? Was putting profits before people really the wrong move? And, uh.. can this thing be undone? Twenty-six years ago, two technologists envisioned a different kind of future: one where humans and quiet, unobtrusive computers comfortably co-existed. In their prophetic 1996 essay The Coming Age of Calm Technology, Mark Weiser and John Seely Brown spoke of a time when tiny, Internet-enabled computers would be embedded in everything from clocks, to toys, to microwave ovens.
In Weiser and Brown's ideal future, our information systems would be deeply integrated into our physical environment. Subtle peripheral cues would clue us in when our attention was needed, but fade into the background when it wasn't. Contrasting the attention-leeching tools of today, Calm Technology promised to inform without overburdening. But where is this "Calm Tech", anyway? Weiser and Brown said its time was coming, but an ETA might have been nice. Maybe we should wait for our corporate overlords to build it for us? Or, perhaps, Calm Technology is something we must build for ourselves. In a previous experiment, I dumbed down my smartphone by permanently removing all but four essential applications. The result was certainly calmer, and even freeing, but vestigial user-interface elements, designed with the It Only Does Everything paradigm in mind, routinely got in my way. If I wanted to do this thing right (and I did), I knew that eventually, I'd have to rebuild my phone's operating system from the ground up.
Whetstone is my answer to this problem; a calm Operating System that informs without overburdening. This project actually started two years ago, when I developed a minimal launcher app called forte. Building forte was a breeze, but once I finished, I couldn't decide which problem to tackle next. The Whetstone project nearly drowned in development hell because I didn't have a plan. Actually, wait.. does this mean I'm done? Okay, wow. I really thought of everything. In an effort to find a path forward, I've gathered a messy pile of scribbles and scrawlings from two years of journals and sketchbooks. There's a lot here to go through, but, like the prospectors of yore, we'll sift through the silt till we sniff out some gold. If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything. I. Whetstone will be open source and free in every sense of the word. If this software is to be of maximum use to its users, it is imperative that the freedom to use, study, modify, and share the software be guaranteed from the get-go.
With this guarantee, I aim to remove as many barriers to entry as possible, so that any interested party may use the software however they see fit. To remove another barrier to entry, Whetstone will not cost anything. II. Whetstone will respect your attention. The software will be designed to help you do what you intend to do, and then be put away. Your attention is a scarce resource, and Whetstone will be designed to use as little as possible. III. Whetstone will respect your privacy. The software will collect no information from you, and be designed to protect any information stored on your device from collection by third parties. IV. Whetstone will be experimental. Weiser and Brown did say we'd have to "radically rethink" things, after all. In this digital playground, weird ideas will be welcomed with open arms. V. Whetstone will be personal. Out of the box, two phones may be identical, but over time they grow to be uniquely ours.