Fidler’s castle
A UK man who secretly built a castle by hiding it with bales of hay has been ordered to tear it down.
To keep prying eyes from noticing his unauthorized abode, Fidler placed bales of hay and tarpaulin around his dream home in Salfords, Surrey, authorities said. The court ruled he could not benefit from his deception.
Authorities said he incorporated two grain silos into the design, covering them with material to give them a castellated appearance.
Lego Remington .45 Revolver
Click through for more.
The Big Lie About the ‘Life of the Mind’
Short story, if you are not rich or require a living wage, then you’re probably screwed:
The myth of the academic meritocracy powerfully affects students from families that believe in education, that may or may not have attained a few undergraduate degrees, but do not have a lot of experience with how access to the professions is controlled. Their daughter goes to graduate school, earns a doctorate in comparative literature from an Ivy League university, everyone is proud of her, and then they are shocked when she struggles for years to earn more than the minimum wage. (Meanwhile, her brother—who was never very good at school—makes a decent living fixing HVAC systems with a six-month certificate from a for-profit school near the Interstate.)
Unless, of course, your reason for studying was for the love of wisdom and not a career, but does anybody do that anymore? (via Austin Kleon)
Patrick Stewart on the internet, iPhone, and games
Glad to see Patrick and I share the same feeling about letters and phone calls.
via waxy
snow on branches
From Friday evening through Saturday afternoon, we had steady, heavy, snowfall in Pittsburgh. By the time it stopped, 21 inches had fallen. (Another storm is expected tomorrow, with 6 – 10 inches more.) Our street is still unplowed, buses are infrequent and delayed, and we are walking a lot. Plenty of time to look up, look around, enjoy the changed landscape.
color me ceo
For example, the color test shows that the typical CEO is more sensitive and private than the typical person and is less likely to be a perfectionist or to be dominant and more likely to be emotionally unstable.
For Cindy
This is how it will be, our new life.
Most of the time
I am confused at why the internet cares about what it cares about.
dear clusterflock
White Stripes.
Every now and again, it is brought to my attention
that a great stumbling block to general recognition of my value to society and culture is that I fail to recognize the importance of being earnest.
quote out of context
“Telling trout purists you’re chasing lowly catfish with a fly rod is tantamount to telling Heidi Klum that what you’re really attracted to is bearded women with no teeth.”
ennui and the internet
Why I am so enslaved to the Internet, I do not know. Nor do I care, in the habitual manner of addicts—at least not until the consequences begin to rear their hydra heads, as they are rather doing right now. My first instinct is to say that it’s because learning stuff provides the communion with other minds that is the best defense against existential loneliness and ennui. The more you learn, the less alone you will feel. And by now the Internet must contain knowledge enough to cure all six or seven billion of us of that loneliness.
hat tip to Autumn who said the piece reminded her of me.
Recursive Webcast
via coudal
quote out of context
The deckle edge on modern books is an imitation of what those sliced open books looked like.
Lucy and I were talking about just this sort of thing this morning.
All Things Must Pass
It’s an I Ching thing.
time can ease the restrictions on some secrets
Children of CIA agents:
“Mom said: ‘Don’t ever get on that phone. When I am on it, get away,’ ” said Sullivan, whose office staff greets callers with a chirpy “Hello, irregular warfare.” “The notes my mom would keep, she kept in a safe. Now, the safe is gone.”
His younger brother Jimmy Sullivan, however, recalled picking up the Spy Phone when playing video games with friends. “We’d be playing Atari, and we’d listen in,” he said. “Or we’d pick up, and it’d be some dude in German ranting and raving.”
from the comments
One morning, over at Elizabeth’s beach house, she asked me if I’d rather go water-skiing or lay out. And I realized that not only did I not want to answer THAT question, but I never wanted to answer another water-sports question — or see any of these people again — for the rest of my life.
Seoul’s floating islands
Along with two other artificial islets, Vista and Tera, to be launched by the end of April, the cluster of man-made floating islets will be used for conventions, water sports, restaurants, performances and exhibitions.
Existential Dodge
The commercial had me until it proffered blatant consumerism as the answer (not that I really expected otherwise).
Claire Voelkel
Claire Voelkel is a Brooklyn-based photographer who appears to see beautiful forms everywhere. She shoots mostly black and white film with a Leicaflex and processes her work herself.
This Was Charming
And one of the few Super Bowl ads deserving of accolades, I think:
(via)
Dear Chicago
Where do you find these people?
The Democratic nominee for Illinois lieutenant governor has dropped out of the race amid a political uproar about his past less than a week after he won the nomination.
The nominee, Scott Lee Cohen, announced his decision Sunday night at a Chicago bar.
Mr. Cohen, a pawn broker and owner of a cleaning supplies company, won the nomination Tuesday. Since then, it has become widely known that he was accused of abusing his former wife and holding a knife to the throat of a girlfriend.
What Amy Said (Not Deron’s Amy edition)
While lying on the bed naked: “Baby come here. Do you want to pick your pictures for cluster stock flock?”
Amy just said (in response to a Dove for men commercial)
Dude, if you let me in that shower with you, I will fight your dryness.
The death of Jermyn Street
I had just settled in my easy chair when a key turned in the lock and a nattily-dressed man in his 60s let himself in. He held a bottle of Teachers’ scotch under his arm. He walked to the sideboard, took a glass, poured a shot, and while filling it with soda from the siphon, asked me, “Fancy a spot?”
“I’m afraid I don’t drink,” I said.
“Oh, my.”
This man sat on my sofa, lit a cigarette, and said, “I’m Henry.”
“Am I…in your room?”
“Oh, no, no, old boy! I’m only the owner. I dropped in to say hello.”
This was Henry Togna Sr. He appears in a Dickens novel I haven’t yet read. I’m sure of it. He appeared in my room almost every afternoon when I stayed at the Eyrie Mansion.
—Roger Ebert, “I met a character from Dickens,” Chicago Sun-Times, February 5, 2010
(Via @davidmoldawer)
