Since you asked,
the only god
I’ve seen rolled reckless
from a red, cardboard
Cracker-Jack box, elusive
from lips to lap
and mad as hell, no decoder
ring to metaphrase the sharp
sting of copper on tongue
coated in caramel
candy coating loaded
with peanuts, good,
sweet, and salty.
The cops knocked on another door last night and guess who answered? If you said Johnny Manziel, the pride of Texas, you’d be right, although the odds were pretty much stacked in your favor. Something like 67% of all police calls these days involve the ubiquitously undisciplined (soon to be ex-?) Cleveland Browns quarterback.
If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to watch a guy shovel money into a shredder, or turn gold into compost, Johnny Football gives you the chance. I simply cannot recall a situation where someone with such promise has so methodically thrown away wealth that folks were literally scrambling over each other to deliver. The only thing he is squandering faster than his future is the goodwill of the people–rich, powerful people who don’t enjoy having noses thumbed in their direction, and who sign his checks. Not only that, but he could have owned Cleveland (like the Steelers do!), a city so desperate for even the promise of success that his inevitably slow development would have been patiently accepted. They’re dying for a hero in Browns’ country.
I’m forced to wonder if he’ll be so cavalier when he’s drawing $32,850 as an assistant football coach at some Division 2 college way out in the sweaty part of Missouri.
I’ve been really busy in my analog life, but my heart is with you.
And also a little bit with Instagram, where I found this:
We’re all familiar with how WordPress keeps screwing with the format. For a long time, I was able to find my way back to the interface that has lists of all the posts in my various catagories…drafts, published, scheduled, etc. It was in black, and very functional. Now, my page is totally frakked. It looks like the photo below, with images and big blocks with teasers of the text…sort of like what the reader looks like. It is an abomination. Also, the blue color makes me want to puke. Literally, it corrodes my soul.
I don’t understand overly technical talk. Jargon makes me want to poke people in the eye with a glowing iron rod. If anyone can offer a step by step way to go back to the simple, clean, grid-like design, I’d love a tip. I want it to look like this again, ALL THE TIME:
Another thing about this format–when one schedules a post for a later date, it is very awkward to change the date and time, unlike in the old format. I do not for the life of me understand why the people at WordPress would take a wonderful product–I mean, I LOVE it here–and make it so much less user friendly. Am I alone?
For the past three years, The Weather Channel has adopted a widely criticized advertising strategy of giving names to winter storms. They’re not doing it to make you safer, or even to make it simpler to take about storms. What they want to do is get you talking about these storms and, more importantly, clicking on links to their web pages. Why? Because no respectable meteorological organization uses, or even acknowledges, those names. So, when you hear that a winter storm called Lovemuffin is “bearing down on the east coast,” for example, then google “Lovemuffin” you’re going to end up at a Weather Channel site–or a cooperating site that is financially connected to the Weather Channel. Heck, they register these names as proprietary. In essence, they’ve found a way to “own” the news.
Even worse, in order to drive interest in their sites, the Weather Channel adopts a hyperbolic reporting posture. Every storm becomes the potential storm to end all storms, every squall threatens to become a blizzard, every blizzard the fresh dawn of a new ice age. Accompanying stories urge us to take measures that may increase our chances of survival–make sure your shovel is solid, buy flashlight batteries and candles, extra toilet paper, rent some movies, load up the shopping cart with Diet Coke and Oreo cookies.
Fortunately, they have not gone unopposed. A Facebook page, called STOP The Weather Channel From Naming Winter Storms–It’s Stupid emerged to challenge this scourge, and plenty of news articles, commentary, and essays have likewise pointed out the ridiculous and cynical nature of the Weather Channel’s ploy. Accuweather has spoken against the naming storms, and the National Weather Service has refused to acknowledge the storm names.
In the mean time, it is difficult to know, without carefully inspecting every weather report for its sourcing, just how we should react. Is there really a horrifying, dangerous storm on the way, or is a media outlet just trying to keep their ratings up? And then, when that turns out to be the case, when do we pay the price after so much crying wolf, when will we become so immune to the hysteria that we fail to heed the warning–and how many will pay the price?
I put a million links up there–a million, count ’em–as references, but this essay is particularly interesting and enlightening.
This is for you, Robin. But that doesn’t mean we can’t all enjoy it!
Well I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this:
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya
She tied you to her kitchen chair
And she broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
But baby I’ve been here before
I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor
You know, I used to live alone before I knew ya
And I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
Well there was a time when you let me know
What’s really going on below
But now you never show that to me do ya
But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya
And it’s not a cry that you hear at night
It’s not somebody who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
Greatest photo title seen in a while. Thank all the gods our winter has been mild.
I was randomly wasting time on the web when I stumbled across this earlier. At first, I thought someone had caught me in one of my surprise sneezes this morning. My sinuses hate the cold, dry air this time of year.
The truth is a lot more interesting. Ontario-based photographer Michael Davies timed this impressive shot of his friend Markus hurling a thermos of hot tea through the air yesterday in -40°C weather near the Arctic Circle. At such frigid temperatures water freezes instantly to form a dramatic plume of ice. For the last decade Davies has worked as a photographer in the fly-in community of Pangnirtung in Canada’s High Arctic, only 20km south of the Arctic Circle, a place that sees about two hours of sunlight each day during the winter.
Found at: http://tinyurl.com/jx97xzg
I remember thinking Grizzly Adams was the coolest.
Is this one great or what? Debra Paget–if this was 1958 you’d know who she was without wikipedia or IMDB.
And not content with being sexy, ol’ Debra wasn’t shy about a little weirdness. YOu know, like crawling around in a giant’s hand or doing gods know what with a monkey in a diaper. But, I guess a monkey in a diaper is better than a monkey without a diaper, if that monkey happens to be dancing an irish jig on your bosom.