Promised Land | Chuck Berry
Swing low, chariot — Come down easy –
Taxi to the terminal zone
Mumbai Attacks | Citizen Journalism
From his terrace on Colaba Causeway in south Mumbai, Arun Shanbhag saw the Taj Mahal Palace & Tower Hotel burn. He saw ambulances leave the Nariman House. And he recorded every move on the Internet.
Mr. Shanbhag, who lives in Boston but happened to be in Mumbai when the attacks began on Wednesday, described the gunfire on his Twitter feed — the “thud, thud, thud” of shotguns and the short bursts of automatic weapons — and uploaded photos to his personal blog.
Mr. Shanbhag, an assistant professor at Harvard Medical School, said he had not heard the term citizen journalism until Thursday, but now he knows that is exactly what he was doing. “I felt I had a responsibility to share my view with the outside world,” Mr. Shanbhag said in an e-mail message on Saturday morning.
Read the NYT article.
Thanks to Maarja and her post to the Archives and Archivists List.
Brooklyn Clusterdrinks
“This is what the Internet looks like!” —Lucy
At Sheila’s prodding, Andrew, Lucy, Mary, and I got together last night for some drinks and food and drinks. All y’all were there in spirit.
The Tooth of Time
Cindy bought me a new watch. She was looking at some that were very expensive, but then thankfully asked me about my preferences–and I selected a lovely Timex on sale for less than $30 that sports the three features I most desired: clearly visible numbers for each hour; a little window displaying the date; and the push-in-the-stem-and-the-dial-lights-up feature. It’s a lovely blue light it makes and I’m delighted. Anyway–it came with something else I take to be powerful in magical qualities. The watch was packed with a little white plastic tooth holding the stem in a position that stopped time until bought and removed. I have saved this bit, and now have it in a place of honor befitting its nature (see beneath the fold).
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Dear Clusterflock
Are you a teetotaler?
Memento mori
The disposition of effects can give rise to all manner of dilemmas.
We received a hundred-year-old tombstone along with a collection of documents. While we do want the documents, we are not interested in the tombstone — there is no information about its background (we were told that someone found it while gardening, and we do not know the date or the address where it was found), and the name does not show up in city directories for the relevant dates, so we have no knowledge of the person. It does not fit with our collecting policy and is also very heavy — in short, we don’t want it. The question is: how does one go about properly deaccessioning a tombstone? Does anyone have any suggestions for what type of facility might be interested in a tombstone with just a name, a date, and a general location for its unearthing? If no one wants it, what is the right way to divest oneself of an unwanted tombstone?
(Posted to the Archives and Archivists List.)
For Andrew
“I always thought I’d like my own tombstone to be blank. No epitaph, and no name. Well, actually, I’d like it to say FIGMENT.”
Attributed to Andy Warhol.
Out of context
Lucy to Sheila. Friday night.
“Let’s not look like Stevie Nicks, ok? Like, ever.”
Be it hereby resolved.
Friends, some editorial advice?
Here is a piece I started back in, oh, 1992 or ‘93 or so. I’ve attempted furtherances of it many times, yet I find myself stuck here with it. I think some of this has merit to continue work on it, but I’m stuck. Stuck for 15 years.
If you can muster the will to get through it, I’d welcome insight on the moment in the text that makes it, for me, unfurtherable. Is there a point where I should delete everything after and move from that point? Or is it a turd from word one? Don’t hold back, I’m a big boy, I can take whatever you might have to offer.
Hot Flash
You know how they tell you not to wipe your eyes after you’ve been cutting jalapenos?
Well, I have tip #2.
If you’ve just chopped about a dozen jalapenos and you go to the bathroom, don’t let the toilet paper linger in your hand for long. At first I thought I’d discovered a new symptom of menopause, but then I remembered the jalapenos.
I’m on fire!
Mouse armour for fairness in cat battle
Make playtime with cat and shakeymouse more interesting. Kit shakeymouse out in one of these lovely suits, and watch him blossom. In the interests of fairness, of course, you will need to adorn your cat with this ensemble.
Oh, and eat your heart out, Harry Potter.
1959: A Rescued Life. Kritsa (Κριτσά, Κρήτη) Crete.
One of a number of documents that I rescued from the house prior to renovation. She was the previous occupant and her name was Maria Klondza. (Μαρία Κλώντζα) It is from one of her passports, issued in 1959. I have various parts of her life that I will share with you.
A gassy tale
Not really. Really it’s a snowbird RV park tale.
I last bought gas on November 10. Since then I’ve driven 117 miles.
Y’all come on down, though. Today regular unleaded at the HEB down on the corner is $1.57. I’ve got a guest room, and there’s Super 8 and La Quinta in the neighborhood.
I’m Almost Popular: From the Editor’s Inbox
Dear my friend,
Katrine is what my parents call my naming. Your eyes it is who I am writing these note. You to see, it is me who is telling you about I am lonely girl who only wants to seek to meet nice guy who are feeling same.
For sure I am to live in Estonia and it is unstoppable in these remoteness and not too many nice guys so that I am thinking to use these English and talk to new friends I have not meeting on these Internet.
Coming soon to a bookstore near you..
Consider yourself warned. January 2009 from Calamari Press.
I also posted some other swag from Blake Butler’s Ever on my 5cense.
from the comments
Doc:
I met Bruce Lee as a kid, summer of ‘67, out in LA; my father often traveled for work. We were outside the office where my father had met a colleague when he suddenly pointed behind me and said, “Look, *Doc*, Kato!”
Walking up the street was a slender Chinese man, not all that tall. He might have been Kato, but mostly Kato wore that mask, right? But he stopped and said hello to my father and his colleague.
Anyhow, supercilious snot that I was, I asked him if what he did on TV was a fake. He just smiled and the next thing I knew the tennis ball (white – the only color made back then) I had been bouncing against the sidewalk was being batted this way and that by Lee’s hands, fists, knees, feet and head, almost too fast to see. To this day I’ve never met anyone with faster hands (and I studied in the Norris system in San Diego later on, even meeting and taking a lesson from Norris before he got too Hollywood.) As a finale, Lee let the ball drop into his right hand, and he sort of bowed, with the ball outstretched toward me. As I reached out to take it back, Lee suddenly popped in into the air and struck it with his fist. The damn thing popped. I mean, I walked over and picked it up and it was ruptured in a straight line. I believe everything ever written about him.
Cool. Preservation.
From the NYTimes:
Missing
I’m a sucker for clever posters.
Went Missing On Saturday, 11-22, 7:00 PM, on the corner of Columbia and Degraw, while innocently waiting a piece of cornbread outside of Jake’s BBQ … Someone, with apparent good-intentions, picked up Mango (hardest working dog in the key lime pie business). We are seeking the return to his rightful master and his place in the pie kingdom. Reward for information leading to the return of our beloved mascot, constant sidekick, canine friend and family member. He is a 10-year old intact male (father of 32), brown on both ears, light-brown “mango” on left side of face. He answers to Mango, Crack-Pipe and Freak-Farm. To verify his identity, just ask him “where’s the rat?” If he doesn’t respond, it ain’t him.
(via Gowanus Lounge)
Yours truly,
along with elimae friends Greg Mulcahy, M Sarki and Blake Butler, and the messrs Lish (both Gordon and Atticus), has a story, “Translated by the Author,” a kind of homage to Borges, in the current issue of New York Tyrant. Forgive my lack of humility. I haven’t seen the issue yet, but am told my copies are on the way.
Who’s more repulsive?
a] the Charlie Sheen character on Two and a Half Men;
b] the Jon Cryer character on Two and a Half Men
c] Ray Manzarek
For Those Breathlessly Waiting…
Our performance of Brubeck’s Earth is Our Mother went very well. Unfortunately, recording it did not. So I have nothing to share with you, other than to tell you I enjoyed the experience and opportunity to sing this wonderful, challenging piece. I again thanked Mr. Moore in Mr. Brubeck’s office for sending the recording. He replied with congratulations on our accomplishment.
Happy Thanksgiving, y’all.
dear clusterflock
Are you hosting Thanksgiving?
Pastor Phelps
gets a little freedom of speech back at him. (Russell King’s email newsletter tipped me off to this.)
the spice gun
The Wii Theramin
(via)
Daryl, is this what you were talking about yesterday?