IOT (Internet of Things) Programming: A Simple and Fast Way of Learning IOT

Named one of the best books of the year by The New Yorker and The New Republic “ Consistently entertaining and often downright funny.” — The New Yorker “Wry and revelatory.” — The New York Times "A romp, packed with tales of anger, violence, theft, lust, greed, political chicanery and transportation policy gone wrong... highly entertaining." — The Los Angeles Times An entertaining, enlightening, and utterly original investigation into one of the most quietly influential forces in modern American life—the humble parking spot Parking, quite literally, has a death grip on America: each year a handful of Americans are tragically killed by their fellow citizens over parking spots. But even when we don’t resort to violence, we routinely do ridiculous things for parking, contorting our professional, social, and financial lives to get a spot. Indeed, in the century since the advent of the car, we have deformed—and in some cases demolished—our homes and our cities in a Sisyphean quest for cheap and convenient car storage. As a result, much of the nation’s most valuable real estate is now devoted exclusively to empty and idle vehicles, even as so many Americans struggle to find affordable housing. Parking determines the design of new buildings and the fate of old ones, patterns of traffic and the viability of transit, neighborhood politics and municipal finance, the quality of public space, and even the course of floodwaters. Can this really be the best use of our finite resources and space? Why have we done this to the places we love? Is parking really more important than anything else? These are the questions Slate staff writer Henry Grabar sets out to answer, telling a mesmerizing story about the strange and wonderful superorganism that is the modern American city. In a beguiling and often absurdly hilarious mix of history, politics, and reportage, Grabar brilliantly surveys the pain points of the nation’s parking crisis, from Los Angeles to Disney World to New York, stopping at every major American city in between. He reveals how the pathological compulsion for car storage has exacerbated some of our most acute problems—from housing affordability to the accelerating global climate disaster—ultimately, lighting the way for us to free our cities from parking’s cruel yoke. "An utterly original and entertaining investigation into one of the most unrecognized but influential forces in modern American urban and social life-the humble parking spot You may not yet realize it, but parking has a death grip on life in America. All too often, quite literally: tragically, each year many Americans are killed by their fellow citizens over parking spots. But even when we don't resort to violence, we routinely do ridiculous things for parking, reorganizing our professional and social lives to find a spot or instead spending a catastrophic sum of money on it. Indeed, over the past century since the advent of the car, almost without noticing it, we have deformed-and in some case quite literally dismantled-not only the buildings in which we live, but our very cities themselves in a futile, downright sisyphean attempt to always have a ready and easy place to store our cars. As a result, some of the nation's most precious and prime real estate has been devoted exclusively to storing empty and idle cars, at a time when more people than ever before are homeless or struggling to find affordable housing. Along the way, rentier businesses that do next to nothing have sprung up across the country. Can this really be the best use of our finite resources and space? Why did we do this to the places we love? Was parking really more important than anything else? These are the questions Slate staff writer Henry Grabar sets out to answer, in doing so telling a mesmerizing and vivid story about the strange and wonderful superorganism that is the modern American city. In a beguiling and often absurdly hilarious mix of history, politics, and reportage, Grabar surveys the hotspots of the nation's parking crisis, from Los Angeles to New York, and every major American city in between. He reveals how this pathological compulsion for car storage has caused and exacerbated some of our most acute problems-from housing affordability to the accelerating global climate disaster-ultimately, lighting t"-- Provided by publisher Shortlisted for the Zócalo Book PrizeNamed one of the best books of the year by The New Yorker and The New Republic“Consistently entertaining and often downright funny.” —The New Yorker“Wry and revelatory.” —The New York Times'A romp, packed with tales of anger, violence, theft, lust, greed, political chicanery and transportation policy gone wrong... highly entertaining.'—The Los Angeles TimesAn entertaining, enlightening, and utterly original investigation into one of the most quietly influential forces in modern American life—the humble parking spotParking, quite literally, has a death grip on America: each year a shocking number of Americans kill one another over parking spots, and we routinely do ri­diculous things for parking, contorting our professional, social, and financial lives to get a spot. Since the advent of the car, we have deformed our cities in a Sisyphean quest for car storage, and as a result, much of the nation's most valuable real estate is now devoted to empty vehicles. Parking determines the design of new buildings and the fate of old ones, traffic patterns and the viability of transit, neighborhood politics and municipal finance, and the overall quality of public space. Is this really the best use of our finite resources? Is parking really more important than everything else? In a beguiling and absurdly hilarious mix of history, politics, and reportage, Slate staff writer Henry Grabar brilliantly surveys the nation's parking crisis, revealing how the compulsion for car storage has exacerbated some of our most acute problems— from housing affordability to the accelerating global climate disaster—and, ultimately, how we can free our cities from park­ing's cruel yoke.