Beautiful stuff, sent by my dad.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
That Scott Adams is such a card
Did you see this Dilbert strip?
http://www.dilbert.com/strips/comic/2009-05-10/
I laughed uproariously, then got seriously depressed. Then laughed again. Then moped again. Thanks, Dad, for sending this to me and ruining my day.
On the plus side: garden car!
http://www.dilbert.com/strips/comic/2009-05-10/
I laughed uproariously, then got seriously depressed. Then laughed again. Then moped again. Thanks, Dad, for sending this to me and ruining my day.
On the plus side: garden car!
Monday, May 25, 2009
the magic of weekends
This has been an excellent weekend:
1 chocolate bread pudding
1 old movie involving glamorous people, jewel thievery, and France
1 new movie involving exploding spaceships and amusing accents
1 cemetery, beautiful at twilight
3 kids
5 dogs
30 new acquaintances (approx.)
an indeterminate amount of phenomenal potato salad
I also just discovered that an old friend of mine will be in town on Friday with his gal! I haven't seen him forever -- certainly not since he moved to Australia -- so this is officially fantastic.
To celebrate all of this cumulative awesomeness, I bring you two works of audiovisual magic:
I never went to the prom, but even I can tell you that this is officially The World's Best Prom Slow Dance/Necking Music of All Time. I mean, seriously -- how can anyone possibly resist all those shebop-shebops?
That John Foxx, back in 1983, was an exquisite man. Trouble is, I think he knew it -- but I'd still totally flirt with him based on cheekbone structure alone.
Side note: I just did some more noodling around online, and discovered that Foxx is an exquisite writer, too. His work reminds me of that of Ray Bradbury: the same sense of decay and dislocation, although with only an echo of Bradbury's longing.
I once met Bradbury a while ago on a film shoot. He'd recently had a stroke, but also had moments of lucidity and seemed perfectly happy to grant an interview. After we shot the segment (I was camera assisting) and packed everything away, I snatched a moment alone with Bradbury to tell him how much I loved his work and how deeply honored I was to have the chance to meet him. He was silent for a moment, slowly refocusing his eyes on me, only to grant me a gummy smile and a cheery "Hello!" I was utterly forlorn for weeks afterward. I'm not sure what I had been hoping for; how can you be Best Friends Forever with your idol when when he's old enough to be your grandfather? It's a bittersweet experience, finally meeting someone you've cherished like a lost love for years, only to realize you've met them too late.
As with Bradbury, I regret that I can't meet Foxx (or should I say Dennis Leigh?) in a parallel reality where we'd be the same age. Reminds me of the phase I went through a few years ago where I had a crush on a statue at the Huntington Library. I'm not goth, I'm gothic -- allow me my tender reveries. Shush.
1 chocolate bread pudding
1 old movie involving glamorous people, jewel thievery, and France
1 new movie involving exploding spaceships and amusing accents
1 cemetery, beautiful at twilight
3 kids
5 dogs
30 new acquaintances (approx.)
an indeterminate amount of phenomenal potato salad
I also just discovered that an old friend of mine will be in town on Friday with his gal! I haven't seen him forever -- certainly not since he moved to Australia -- so this is officially fantastic.
To celebrate all of this cumulative awesomeness, I bring you two works of audiovisual magic:
I never went to the prom, but even I can tell you that this is officially The World's Best Prom Slow Dance/Necking Music of All Time. I mean, seriously -- how can anyone possibly resist all those shebop-shebops?
That John Foxx, back in 1983, was an exquisite man. Trouble is, I think he knew it -- but I'd still totally flirt with him based on cheekbone structure alone.
Side note: I just did some more noodling around online, and discovered that Foxx is an exquisite writer, too. His work reminds me of that of Ray Bradbury: the same sense of decay and dislocation, although with only an echo of Bradbury's longing.
I once met Bradbury a while ago on a film shoot. He'd recently had a stroke, but also had moments of lucidity and seemed perfectly happy to grant an interview. After we shot the segment (I was camera assisting) and packed everything away, I snatched a moment alone with Bradbury to tell him how much I loved his work and how deeply honored I was to have the chance to meet him. He was silent for a moment, slowly refocusing his eyes on me, only to grant me a gummy smile and a cheery "Hello!" I was utterly forlorn for weeks afterward. I'm not sure what I had been hoping for; how can you be Best Friends Forever with your idol when when he's old enough to be your grandfather? It's a bittersweet experience, finally meeting someone you've cherished like a lost love for years, only to realize you've met them too late.
As with Bradbury, I regret that I can't meet Foxx (or should I say Dennis Leigh?) in a parallel reality where we'd be the same age. Reminds me of the phase I went through a few years ago where I had a crush on a statue at the Huntington Library. I'm not goth, I'm gothic -- allow me my tender reveries. Shush.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
military robots, and the folks who love them
Real Soldiers Love Their Robot Brethren
The bit about Scooby-Doo slays me, and the skateboard idea is fascinatingly simple. I also find EATR intriguing, in a Skynet sort of way.
But where did insurgents get the idea that Lipton tea bags are drone magnets? And how does Lipton's marketing department feel about this? I can see the slogan now:
Teacups Versus Terrorism -- LIPTON Saves the Day!
::shakes head::
The bit about Scooby-Doo slays me, and the skateboard idea is fascinatingly simple. I also find EATR intriguing, in a Skynet sort of way.
But where did insurgents get the idea that Lipton tea bags are drone magnets? And how does Lipton's marketing department feel about this? I can see the slogan now:
Teacups Versus Terrorism -- LIPTON Saves the Day!
::shakes head::
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Join me at Mindshare, May 21!
So, here's the latest email I've received from the madcap folks behind Mindshare:
We're excited to announce the program for next Thursday at 1018 Gallery!I'll be there at 7 to help set up, who else is coming?
http://www.mindshare.la/events.html
William Pomerantz / Senior Director of Space Projects, The X PRIZE Foundation
Winning Our Way to the Moon
Heather Knight / Roboticist, MIT Media Lab
Social Robotics - Exploring the Human-Robot Relationships
David de Rothschild / Founder, Adventure Ecology
The Plastiki - Rethinking Plastic as a Resource!
Daniel Yoder / Hacker, Zeraweb Labs
Flash Fundraising for The Abruzzo Earthquake
Unnamed Military Source / US Air Force
Apocalypse Survival (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Breakdown of Society)
Evonne Heyning & Matt Davis / Lightning Temple Artists
INTERACTIVATION: Collaborative Visions of Human Evolution
And of course there will be and open bar, hors d'ouevres, music and a number of installations on display from the great brains from Mindshare Labs!
Monday, May 11, 2009
American Apparel is the new Hot Topic. Discuss.
Someone just told me about The Lab in Irvine. I checked out the site, wrote back to her, then decided to turn the message into an open letter here:
The Lab is interesting; it actually looks very Melrose to me, too, not just an OC thing. Funny how it calls itself an 'anti-mall,' when most malls I visit these days have an Urban Outfitters as well as other boutique-y shops similar to those at The Lab. It's unnerving how well clothing corporations have learned the formula for successfully co-opting pseudo-bohemian culture; American Apparel is the new Hot Topic! Extra smart (or insulting?) to have a gallery space like Artery in the middle of the complex to 'legitimize' the pseudo-bohemia of the whole thing!Have you been to The Lab? If so, do you think I'm being harsh? Or reasonable?
On the plus side, at least it's a great venue for artists to show their work -- but who decides what work ends up on the walls?
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