A few weeks ago, Liz did a “hey, guess what?” on me. Turns out, it’s in the news: after 21 years of marriage, Spiderman (Peter Parker) and MaryJane (Watson) Parker’s marriage is ending. To which I said “Dude. No freakin’ way was their wedding 21 years ago. I have that issue, I bought it new. And I didn’t even start reading Spiderman until like…”
And of course, her response was…”Yeah?”
And my response was…
“Oh god…”
Since that day, I’ve felt…old.
Via kottke.org:
Passage, a tiny game that takes 5 minutes or an entire lifetime to play. It’s much better if you play it once and then read the creator’s statement. I didn’t know a game (and such a tiny one at that) could be so poignant.
I’ll second that. Please check this out, and definitely make sure you play the game once before you read the creator’s statement. You’ll be glad you did. I must admit, this one got me a little
Speaking of hip-hop, I stumbled upon this Aesop Rock track yesterday, and I can’t stop listening to it.
Crazy, considering the shit I usually listen to. Would Ellis Paul approve?
A couple of months ago, I got a bit discouraged when I heard a talk radio show centered around the “the state of hip-hop,” and they were talking about the current kings: 50 Cent and Kanye West. Fuckin’ no-talent hacks.
I didn’t even like rap when I was a teenager, and I’ve only built a healthy appreciation for the old-school stuff in maybe the last 5 years, but the fact of the matter is, I’ve become kind of a snob when it comes to hip-hop…I can’t fucking STAND the shit that kids today call “the shit.” I can’t listen to 50 Cent for more than a second or two…he’s got no talent and no depth.
I heard on the radio this morning that Atmosphere is not only releasing a new album this spring, but over the winter they also released a free 13-track downloadable album on their website. They played a track on the radio show, and I was reminded of just how smart their lyrics are, and how infectious the beats are. And I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why acts like this aren’t “the current kings of hip-hop.”
——–
Also, on the same radio show, the topic of conversation was pre-release “leaks” of albums. For smaller acts, leaks like this can spark interest and generate sales, but for the larger acts, it can have a hugely negative impact on sales.
They spoke with a bunch of people in the industry who are attempting to deal with the problem, including a man whose company’s sole charge is to help record companies battle pre-release leaks to bit-torrent sites.
One strategy they use made me laugh hysterically: upon finding a leak, they actually “flood the market” with further leaked copies, but the ones they contribute are filled with glitches and shitty compression artifacts, making the tracks almost unbearable to listen to from beginning to end. By completely destroying the signal-to-noise ratio and transforming the user-experience to utter dogshit, they achieve their goal of discouraging at least a portion of music pirates from downloading the music, since it’s hell-nigh impossible to find a quality copy.
It’s guerrilla warfare, but it’s fucking brilliant. I’ll admit, it’s worked to discourage me, but I’d always just assumed that the high signal-to-noise ratio was just because jackasses can’t figure out how to rip a track properly.
Me and Liz went snowboarding in Colorado this weekend, and visited my sister for a few days. Awesome trip, can’t wait to do it again soon. She went a little hog-wild on the halfpipe, got some massive air, but pooched the landing and fractured her Radius. Gnar. See pic.
Just kidding. We both took a beginner class, both of us did really well, but one of her falls was pretty harsh, so yeah, the broken bone part is true. Get better kiddo. I mean it. And don’t do shit you know’s gonna hurt your wrist, k? And let’s go snowboarding again soon.
I picked up a copy of I Am Legend at an airport bookstore this morning, since I was sufficiently impressed by the movie. Thought it was (of course) fitting that the cover is just like the movie poster, with Will Smith walking along in front of a barren NY skyline. Then I noticed the first publication date of 1954. Yeah, I think this should be fun. The thing that bugs me is that the synopsis on the back cover is based on what the movie was about…when in fact the book seems to have a very different plot. Oh, and the main character is blond. Kinda funny.
It makes sense for them to put Will Smith’s face on the cover to sell more books by “brand recognition” (if you want to call it that), but it doesn’t make any sense to lead the reader into believing the book shares the same storyline. Me, I’m pretty sure I’ll be entertained. I’m glad the movie had its own flavor, and I’m glad the book will give something new to chew on, too. Funny, that the “distant future” in this book is actually the year I was born.
My sister called me this morning from a dusty parking lot on the outskirts of Denver. “I don’t know about this…” she said.
A few months back, she mentioned she needed brake work done to her car. I’d been urging her to stop going to the VW dealership, since going to any dealer is a good way to get gouged. I did some research (since VW maintenance is kinda my area of expertise), and came up with a bunch of specialty shops in the Denver area.
Apparently, several of the shops I suggested to her were either too far away, or just weren’t open anymore. The one that was left was actually the one that looked most promising. She called them up, talked to a nice guy to make an appointment, and got an estimate for how much the brake work would be. Their prices were reasonable (far, far less than the dealer), and the dude sounded honest.
So she’s in their parking lot this morning, hemming and hawing about whether or not she wants to leave her shiny, nice Touareg in a place like this. All crappy cars out front, not-so-nice part of town, just not a good feeling. I tried to set her mind at ease, letting her know that most shops will bring all the nicest cars inside the garage bays at night.
The thing is, I worked in a place like this. Hole in the wall shop, run down, dingy, middle of nowhere, huddled among a half dozen other run-down auto shops. They’re almost all like that, especially in the larger metro areas, and there’s no avoiding it. The problem is, nobody wants an auto shop in their neighborhood, and zoning laws really only give shop owners a limited choice of where they can build their business. Sadly, most shops are right near the nastiest places on earth, auto salvage yards. My sister wasn’t aware of the zoning laws, so this kinda put her at ease too.
Also, there’s the fact that brand-name auto dealerships always tend to have pristine, gleaming enamel floors, shiny new lifts, and mechanics that look like they just stepped out of the shower. It’s kinda sad, because in all reality, that’s the place you don’t want your car worked on, yet it’s totally the most inviting and “confidence inspiring.”
It’s no wonder people are often remiss in taking proper care of their cars.
My dad with his buddy Ron, probably early 1980s. You can’t see it (it’s probably on the back), but I’m certain his hardhat has “Bud®” inscribed on it somewhere. His name was Bud. It never ceased to amuse him that he could add the ® for fun.
In dire need of a haircut and a trim, but I have a feeling he snapped this picture with the intent of sending it to my sister. He always picked on her because this was her typical self-portrait.
This must’ve been taken in my sister’s dorm room, during her first semester at BU. Funny thing is, I also have a picture of my dad in repose on the floor, with an arm outstretched toward my sister. But in that picture, she’s a toddler.
If my face would cooperate, I’d grow a full beard in his honor, at least for a little while. Everyone feels differently about facial hair, but because of my dad, I associate big full beards with kindness.
Liz and I went to the exhibit, Body Worlds 2 & the Three Pound Gem, today. It’s an exhibit of real honest-to-god human bodies, all “plastinated,” most of them posed in a sporting or liesurely manner. Skeltons, muscles, tendons, nerves, and an emormous amount of artistry. All models had given express consent to be included in this project in the event of their demise, and information about their lives (and deaths) was specifically not shared in the exhibit, because the individuals (in the personal sense) were not the focus.
It’s of course been a very controversial exhibit, but I was definitely impressed with its tasteful and educational nature. And, even though all of us were walking around and, basically, looking death in the face…oddly, it was better described as a celebration of life.
One of the first full-body displays you see, upon entering, is two men walking with a child skeleton. The man in front is posed amid-stride, and the man behind is in exactly the same pose. On second glance, the man in front is composed of only muscles and tendons, while the man behind is a skeleton with its internal organs, and the child is only a bare skelton. Upon further inspection, you realize that “both” men are in fact the same person, and great care had been taken to separate and reconstruct the structures of his body so that we can gain more insight to the inner workings and how these things cooperate to make us whole.
As you can see in the picture above, some displays were specifically arranged in dynamic illustration of sports, exercise, repose, just things we do. The skateboarder impressed the hell out of me. As did the yoga lady and the baseball player.
Of course, as one would imagine, there are glass cases with all kinds of other displays, like the comparison of a healthy lung to a smoker’s lung. There were also displays of malignant tumors, goiters, the effects of heart attacks and strokes, arteriosclerosis, and many others. Not twenty feet apart, I saw what cancer in the liver looks like, and what the aftermath of a massive coronary looks like. These are the ways my parents died. It’s amazing I handled it as well as I did.
Anyway, very good show, and it’ll be coming to Baltimore in February.
When Tom Tancredo dropped out of the race, the hilarious NPR news show Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me reminded us of just how great it was when Tom answered the hardball debate question “What would each candidate most like to have if he were stranded on a desert island?” His answer:
A boat.
Softball questions are pretty much all I see these days. The YouTube debates were a joke. The Facebook debate is very likely to be a joke. I want to know when people are going to get serious. I want to know when someone is going to stand up and say something that makes me feel as if he/she could carry out something resembling a solid plan, and perhaps do a few things I’d be proud of our President for. I want to hear someone talk about the past. I want to know that our potential president knows what exactly has happened in the Middle East for at least the past hundred years. I want someone who sounds like they’re in control or can take control at a moment’s notice.
Haven’t seen anybody like that yet.
If you’ve got any great political bookmarks or websites at which I can learn some impactful nitty-gritty about our candidates, I’d love to check ‘em out.