I’ll show you mine if you show me yours
For years, I have been searching for a first sentence worse than the one I have in mind. Before I divulge, however (a handful of people probably already know what it is), does anyone have a sentence they feel can match the worst first sentence I have found, sight unseen? Does this post even make any sense?
Kid Lights His Nose and Cries
(thanks, Aaron)
from the moderated comments
Yuh killed HELLA Peacoks for tht sweater yuh damn killer! I freqquin hate iht
yuh are a BITCH FOR DUIN THAT TO A Peacok
im with ashley yuh killed iht if yuh dnt aprove dis comment ill now yuh guys r some cowards
were the fuck r ashleys comment yuh big fat ********
yuh think yuh r the king well think again! yuh are an animal murderer! thts wat yuh r!
and Andrew Simmons instead of killing animals for there beauty find something else to do cause im pretty sure yuh dont have beauty
haha dancin freak is hella right aprove all these comments yuh thang!
yuh dnt deserve to be called a human yuh are a disgrace to human race and i bet tht all these dodo heads gt paid to say sometin good!
Update: moderated comment from the comments of the from the moderated comments post:
I have gonorrhea and herpes.
Voodoo in Haiti
(via marginal revolution)
Robinson Jeffers
It is good for strength not to be merciful
To its own weakness, good for the deep urn to run
over, good to explore
The peaks and the deeps, who can endure it,
Good to be hurt, who can be healed afterward: but
you that have whetted consciousness
Too bitter an edge, too keenly daring,
So that the color of a leaf can make you tremble
and your own thoughts like harriers
Tear the live mind: were your bones mountains,
Your blood rivers to endure it? and all that labor
of discipline labors to death.
Delight is exquisite, pain is more present;
You have sold the armor, you have bought shining
with burning, one should be stronger than
strength
To fight baresark in the stabbing field
In the rage of the stars: I tell you unconsciousness
is the treasure, the tower, the fortress;
Referred to that one may live anything;
The temple and the tower: poor dancer on the flints
and shards in the temple porches, turn home.
(thanks, Daryl)
spam name
Kareem Sade.
Update: Thi Sherika.
headline of the day
Nissan to moisturize occupants with breathable vitamin C in new autos?
familial attraction, or Westermarck v. Freud
In the first experiment, people were shown a series of faces of strangers and asked to rank their sexual attractiveness. Before each of the faces were shown, half the subjects were subliminally exposed to photographs of their opposite-sex parent, by flashing the images so quickly that they couldn’t be processed consciously. The other half of the participants was shown photos of unrelated parents.
People who were primed with images of their own mom or dad were more likely to find the faces in the subsequent photo attractive than did people primed with a random image.
In the second experiment, participants were asked to rank the sexual attractiveness of another set of faces, but this time the faces were morphed to be composites of two different faces. Unaware that their own faces were part of the morph, half of the subjects were shown faces that were up to 45 percent their own, like an artificial sibling. The other half were shown morphs of faces that were not their own.
The people who saw faces morphed with their own found the images more sexually appealing.
There is more.
The Joyful Noise, and The Farting Preacher
Sometimes I think the internet was created so this would have a place to live.
Read more
from the comments
Cupcakes ARE different from cake. Is it that hard to see? They are smaller. You can eat them with your hands. There is more frosting (generally) per unit of cake. Cake is about community. Cupcakes are about self. For a country that is so frequently characterized as based on consumption, we are really, really bad at consuming.
from the comments
In a food fight cupcakes are good because you can smash them, frosting first, into the face of a nearby enemy or hurl them, with greater accuracy than, say, a pie, across great distances.
something, 55
Daryl’s homestead was ten minutes from the camp I used to work at. Cindy hand-painted messages of love. Gatorade beer tastes pretty much how you think it would. I could have used more ballast.
I thought, I’ll just meditate on death for a while
I think we’re in the middle of a cupcake bubble of historic proportions
“Did they really think cupcakes were different than cake?” the world will ask after the cupcake market implodes. “Why did they wait in those ridiculous lines just to buy cake?”
Amazon announces $139 Kindle
Amazon.com will introduce two new versions of the Kindle e-reader on Thursday, one for $139, the lowest price yet for the device.
a new kind of asymmetrical journalism
“It’s a reminder, if we need one, that technology has diminished our [traditional media's] control over what the world knows,” Mr. Keller said, adding “Ellsberg needed The New York Times to get the word out. WikiLeaks doesn’t. But it’s also a reminder that serious, experienced journalists taking time to practice their craft still bring immense value to information.”
Bill Keller, the executive editor of The New York Times, discussing the Pentagon Papers and this week’s WikiLeaks’ release of the Afghanistan War Logs, as well as The New York Times’ role in editing and presenting the 92,000 pages of documents.
(via marginal revolution)
photo out of context
quote out of context
“She is quite sexy, you could say, but she is not a spy,” said Fermanova’s Addison-based attorney.
what I wanted
from the comments
Years ago a Chicago friend of mine, a musician and studio owner, tasked me with conveying a malfunctioning piece of audio equipment down to Garland, Texas to the audio geek who had built it. (I was driving to Texas anyway.)
You know the kind of thing. Really expensive black box with no name or label on it and a bare minimum of controls.
So I find the audio geek’s house. It’s an ordinary creepy brick ranch-style in a more than ordinarily creepy Texas suburb. Garland. I knock on the door, the geek opens the door, and the very first thing out of his mouth is, “You’re not wearing perfume, are you?”
Uh. No, I tell him. I’m not.
“Because I have a glass lung.”
It was only after I had taken a deep breath and made the decision that it was safe to follow him down into his basement workshop that I realized he must have said, “I have a collapsed lung.”
When I left, I saw children on bikes riding home from school. I bet that the audio geek was the Boo Radley of that neighborhood.
something, 54
Peter Coyote narrated my porn clips.
from the comments, bagged bananas (at the movies) edition
I. Bag. Your. Bananas. I bag them up!
This bush league psyche-out stuff. Laughable, man. I would have bagged your bananas Saturday. I bag your bananas next Wednesday instead. Wooo! You got a date Wednesday, baby!
I’ve seen bagged bananas… bagged bananas that you’ve seen. But you have no right to call me a banana bagger. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that… but you have no right to bag my bananas. It’s impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what bagged bananas means.
[The investors] said to me, ‘Well how can you continue, can you… do you have the strength, or the will, or the enthusiasm, or so…?’ And I said, ‘How can you ask me this question… it is… if I abandon bagged bananas I would be a man without dreams and I don’t want to live like that: I live my life or I end my life with bagged bananas.’
And what haunts me, is that in all the faces of all the bananas that Treadwell ever bagged, I discover no kinship, no understanding, no mercy. I see only the overwhelming indifference of nature. To me, there is no such thing as a secret world of the bananas. And this blank stare speaks only of a half-bored interest in food. But for Timothy Treadwell, this banana was a friend, a savior.
Look, all I can tell you is what I’ve already told Mister Beasley: none of us saw anything. It was just one of those things: Bluey Barnes was reading a magazine; Ambrose Hatcheson was bagging a banana; Johnny Price was washing his hands; Jimmy Loughnan was watching a bullant crawl across the table, and I was watching Jimmy watching the bullant.
headline of the day
Gwyneth Paltrow releases country song
Apple Trackpad
Today, Apple introduced a trackpad to give multi-touch functionality to its desktops.
from the comments
A friend in Boston was leading us on his wonderful tour of the city. I had never been before. We were looking over the harbor, walking through what he said was the second oldest graveyard in Boston. I was blithering on about my ancestors, the name was French, they were disinvited from that country, though, ha ha, and spent a few centuries in England and Ireland before making their way to the colonies. A professor who researched the name and wrote a book said most went south “to be slave traders, the rest were in a ship that blew way off course and ended up in New England where they distinguished themselves as horse thieves.”
Then I looked down. By my foot was a grave that read “Elijah Corlew” — early 1800s. My friend has the grave on his tour.
