Looks like the Federal Building in Ketchikan will stay pink - er, "salmon."
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Exhaustive list of low-cost ultraportables.
Via Brad Linder. None of them is a MacBook Air of course, but they're light and cheap, and Linux is an option.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Jerry'd like a picture of my cab.
So here you are, Jerry. It's a 2002 Mercury Marquis, rear-wheel drive in Alaska, immaculate, 109,000 miles, solid. Unstoppable pimpmobile, but don't get stuck. Click to enlarge.
Fell in love with Fords when I engaged in this questionable business.
"Suck on this, John Mayer."
Link to today's allegedly found object: the Jimi Hendrix "sex tape." Via Jenny and Todd.
The YouTube video at Woodstock here is really the showstopper (first link). It's been a long time since I saw it. Turn it up, make full-screen happen. Praise the Lord!
R.I.P., Albert Hofmann.
The first synthesizer of LSD has passed away at age 102.
"I believe that if people would learn to use LSD's vision-inducing capability more wisely, under suitable conditions, in medical practice and in conjunction with meditation, then in the future this problem child could become a wonderchild."
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Hardy Heron's in the wild.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Music distribution done right.
Free new Nine Inch Nails song "Discipline" available. Just type in your email address and your postal code, then check your inbox.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Rob Griffiths on the iDIY.
A Macworld editor rolls his own Mac. I guess if you just have to do it....
Reminds me of why I pay extra for AppleCare on a production machine.
It's not rocket science.
Paul Graham via John Gruber on what makes for good business. Here's a clue: if you piss off your customers, they won't call you back. Now if only some of my colleagues could figure that out.
New prose by Don Cole.
Thanks, Don!
less a flight than a free fall
A friend of mine works up north. I crunch over in the wee hours to feed the pigeons when he is out of town. The ice has almost given up now. I walk along looking at it amazed by all the things locked up in it, coming free now. Oil, transmission fluid, puke, plastic, piss, rings, coin, dog shit, it all feeds into the ice and bleeds out. Some folk from the lower 48 may imagine a pristine snow scape up here but I feel as though I am walking on the a frozen lining of phlegm in a giant smokers lung. The pigeons are not my friend's birds but rather they are refugees of the greater Fairbanks area. The flock that feeds on the street behind his house number about forty five. Last winter they were around fifteen but we fed them you see. The cold robs them of calories, calories we replace with shitty corn. Some people get angry about this and I don't blame them. Each pigeon produces somewhere in the squat of twenty six pounds of waist a year. One man followed me as I stretched out a path of cracked corn and told me the pigeon is the most diseased bird there is. I don't doubt it. I also don't give a full diaper rat's ass. I imagine I will see a hundred and fifty birds next fall staring stupidly down at me from the wires. I will stare stupidly back wishing I could see the mini-universes of germs and bacteria riving from their round heads. Its true that those of us, Dan and I and the people who have joined our feeding ground, have created a J-curve population increase rate that will crash sooner rather than later. But this is a rate that we bald monkeys are on also. After the cat's ass there will be no order here. Sure, we cling to our facts, theology, technology and such so as to throw it like scat at the critters we are burning off this spinning cheese rock. But now I froth. So far I have heard two theories on the origins of the Fairbanks pigeon. One is that a doctor brought them up and released as death closed in. Perhaps he gazed, the morphine coursing, as they flew seemingly backwards into the clouds. The other is that army officers brought them up here to shoot. Could be the was tobacco spit, the hands shook, and they were flown up from their Georgia roots to fly a death gauntlet. What ever the case I feed them in spite of order and crunch back home.
less a flight than a free fall
A friend of mine works up north. I crunch over in the wee hours to feed the pigeons when he is out of town. The ice has almost given up now. I walk along looking at it amazed by all the things locked up in it, coming free now. Oil, transmission fluid, puke, plastic, piss, rings, coin, dog shit, it all feeds into the ice and bleeds out. Some folk from the lower 48 may imagine a pristine snow scape up here but I feel as though I am walking on the a frozen lining of phlegm in a giant smokers lung. The pigeons are not my friend's birds but rather they are refugees of the greater Fairbanks area. The flock that feeds on the street behind his house number about forty five. Last winter they were around fifteen but we fed them you see. The cold robs them of calories, calories we replace with shitty corn. Some people get angry about this and I don't blame them. Each pigeon produces somewhere in the squat of twenty six pounds of waist a year. One man followed me as I stretched out a path of cracked corn and told me the pigeon is the most diseased bird there is. I don't doubt it. I also don't give a full diaper rat's ass. I imagine I will see a hundred and fifty birds next fall staring stupidly down at me from the wires. I will stare stupidly back wishing I could see the mini-universes of germs and bacteria riving from their round heads. Its true that those of us, Dan and I and the people who have joined our feeding ground, have created a J-curve population increase rate that will crash sooner rather than later. But this is a rate that we bald monkeys are on also. After the cat's ass there will be no order here. Sure, we cling to our facts, theology, technology and such so as to throw it like scat at the critters we are burning off this spinning cheese rock. But now I froth. So far I have heard two theories on the origins of the Fairbanks pigeon. One is that a doctor brought them up and released as death closed in. Perhaps he gazed, the morphine coursing, as they flew seemingly backwards into the clouds. The other is that army officers brought them up here to shoot. Could be the was tobacco spit, the hands shook, and they were flown up from their Georgia roots to fly a death gauntlet. What ever the case I feed them in spite of order and crunch back home.
Another useless accessory for the Macintosh.
Everyone thinks that because you own a Mac you have a ton of disposable income (hence, the market in $19.95+ shareware that performs tasks you can do in the Terminal). But I would suspect there are a lot of folks like me in different lines of work who make a commitment to save for quite a while to buy a new Mac in order to own one outright. Apple knows this well -- we helped haul them through the dark, decade-old days back in the 90's.
And now there's this. Oh, the MagStay PRO. Where you can hide tiny things, smaller footprint, keeps it safer in the laptop bag, etc.
I own a late-2007 MacBook Pro, and let me tell you nothing short of the Richter Scale is going to dislodge the stock MagSafe adapter, unless someone kicks it out with some physics behind them. As intended. The real advance in power adapter technology was made by Apple on the MacBook Air, where it connects flush in relation to the horizontal axis of the hardware, as opposed to sticking out the side. Savvy engineering.
Besides, I put my machine inside a Marware sleeve inside a Samsonite hard case (I live in Alaska, and you can fall on the ice), so I'm a little outside the loop on latte protection for the Mac.
If you're worried about trip protection on your portables, Apple's stock MagSafe on the Pros and Macbooks should make the grade. If you're really worried, we'll be seeing new machines of both kinds by summer, with serious redesigns. Just get one now if you need one: both portables are great.
And if you're worried past this, move the notebook to a safer place.
Wonderful tribute to the films of Joel and Ethan Coen.
They all leap to mind in photographic detail, back to the theatre release of "Blood Simple."
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Propaganda in Bush's America.
"Most of the analysts have ties to military contractors vested in the very war policies they are asked to assess on air." From today's NYT.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Email of the day.
"I remember migrating from Symphony to MacWrite one afternoon in 1985: it took 40 minutes. Later I migrated to Lotus Jazz for a symphonic experience on Mac. Then System 3.1? came and ate the printer drivers. Jazz was really good. About as good as Claris Works when that appeared.
But in those days we expected a development team of 1 to produce the best work. Then it would take 10,000 salespeople to move it."
A response by George Wade.
But in those days we expected a development team of 1 to produce the best work. Then it would take 10,000 salespeople to move it."
A response by George Wade.
Byrne and Eno to tour.
"Electronic gospel," says David Byrne. New album to be released "before 2009." Via BoingBoing. Salivating with anticipation.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
R.I.P. Danny Federici.
Long-time keyboardist with Springsteen and the E Street Band, all the way back to 1969 and the band Child. Pictured with The Boss back in the day. Wouldn't have been for Danny, might not have been no Boss.
Ann Coulter nude.
"My Wall Street Journal" parody. Always thought she was transsexual; gives me nightmares. (Thanks, Craig!)
Hollywood hires new cop.
From TPB: "It has come to our attention that Warner Bros has employed the police officer in charge of the whole investigation about The Pirate Bay."
Time to investigate the investigators.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Bosnia and Back Again.
Featuring the cynicism of Senator Clinton.
Update: looks like this video is causing a little commotion.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
