Marketing executive 1: we are a failing aquarium, what should we do?
Executive 2: I know! We need a mascot!
Executive 1: great idea! We can even get two!
Having just finally finished the monster that is atlas shrugged (I can’t help but be attracted to the heavy-handed archetypes way of writing, today’s “news” that Superman renounces his US citizenship felt poignant.
Fun post on things with unknown names.
a rethink of Slatest already? I still miss Today’s Papers. As much as I like Slatest also, I really hope it won’t become too much like other news aggregation sites. Slate has one of the most unique voices on the Internet, something which I would hate to see be lost. I’m happy to see them continue to innovate though, they are one of the few online magazines really pushing the envelope in their attempts to rethink news.
On the topic of news aggregation, I also have to give a shout-out to myself and the others at SPACE magazine back in 1999, where we did have a Media Recycling section, where we put a meta filter on what the other (monthly) magazines were writing about at the time.
An explanation of the recent “incident” where fake URLs were circulated and perpetuated – it’s apparently “a feature, and not a bug”, says Nieman.
for when you absolutely need a nap.
alternative futures, but self-admittedly impractical ones, a rare concept: Hypothetical Development Organization: Snooze Tower.
I like literary maps of cities. here is one of LA: 023-graphicstatement.jpg 2000×1229.
a very suitable map for that best of tv series – twin peaks.
No other director has so succinctly used the exterior landscape to illustrate the interior landscape of the soul.
In Three Days – Browning
So, I shall see her in three days
And just one night, but nights are short,
Then two long hours, and that is morn.
See how I come, unchanged, unworn!
Feel, where my life broke off from thine,
How fresh the splinters keep and fine,—
Only a touch and we combine!
Too long, this time of year, the days!
But nights, at least the nights are short.
As night shows where ger one moon is,
A hand’s-breadth of pure light and bliss,
So life’s night gives my lady birth
And my eyes hold her! What is worth
The rest of heaven, the rest of earth?
O loaded curls, release your store
Of warmth and scent, as once before
The tingling hair did, lights and darks
Outbreaking into fairy sparks,
When under curl and curl I pried
After the warmth and scent inside,
Thro’ lights and darks how manifold—
The dark inspired, the light controlled
As early Art embrowns the gold.
What great fear, should one say, “Three days
“That change the world might change as well
“Your fortune; and if joy delays,
“Be happy that no worse befell!”
What small fear, if another says,
“Three days and one short night beside
“May throw no shadow on your ways;
“But years must teem with change untried,
“With chance not easily defied,
“With an end somewhere undescried.”
No fear!—or if a fear be born
This minute, it dies out in scorn.
Fear? I shall see her in three days
And one night, now the nights are short,
Then just two hours, and that is morn.