screenshots from yesterday’s footage
quote out of context
“Wilco” is a five-letter word for the quiet slaughter of all that is elemental, passionate, and reverentially stupid about rock ‘n’ roll.
Aspiration
Sun Spot
This seems likely.
Not that I have a say…
self-potrait with fancy bird platter & hat & bird
Thanks Cindy!
Michael Jackson Meant Nothing to Me
This is the post that will get my ass kicked outta this place.
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hey baby
(a)
The McLean team already had studied men and women looking at photos of adults’ faces on a computer screen. They rated facial beauty, and could do various keystrokes to watch the photos longer. A keystroke count showed men put three times more effort into watching beautiful women as women put into watching handsome men.
(b)
This time 13 men and 14 women were shown 80 photos of babies, 30 of whom had abnormal facial features such as a cleft palate, Down syndrome or crossed eyes. Participants rated each baby’s attractiveness on a scale of zero to 100, and used keystrokes to make the photo stay on the screen longer or disappear faster.
Women pressed the keys 2.5 times more than men to make photos of babies with the facial abnormalities disappear, researchers reported in PLoS One, a journal of the Public Library of Science. That’s even though they rated those babies no less attractive than the men had.
(c)
Both genders spent equal time and effort looking at photos of the normal babies.
a description of a recent acquisition at the museum of bad art
This is a disturbing image of an Egyptian doubled over in pain, throwing up colorfully. The X-ray box clearly shows the source of his discomfort, and the black smoke from the pyramid indicates that a new pharaoh has not yet been chosen. More study is needed to determine the meaning of the squiggly lines above and behind him.
For your viewing pleasure.
(via kottke)
from the comments
I would say that picture-making builds a symbolic system, a framework for the perception of the world or a meditation on a set of ideas. The linguistic philosopher Nelson Goodman posits that one knows the world only through creation. Learning is the discovery of a pattern, and that discovery is facilitated by the invention and imposition of patterns of one’s own devising. Photographs are subjective patterns formed from direct observation informed by the history of image making, industry, and my own lived experiences. These patterns form models on which we base our perception of the world. When those models change through picture making, so does our world view. However transitory and constructed, photographs for me suggest a glimpse of latent beauty among the chaos we traffic in our daily lives.
I don’t want your bourgeois accolades.
I scrabbled about as fast as ever I could to meet Doc’s clitoral challenge, yet I missed the 8:00 PM CDT deadline. So I scrabbled again, and the result is what you see above. And still it was past the revised deadline of midnight.
Down below is my first desperate race-against-the-clock attempt.
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Orange Crate Art: Brian Wilson & Van Dyke Parks
From I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times (1995), directed by Don Was.
Mortal Remains
We have been speaking of mortal remains.
This, the tail-end of Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself”, has always just shredded me.
I take it personally.
I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.
poop report
7:47 AM, #5 on the Bristol, alla bolognese.
Come, my spade
Come, my spade. There is no ancient gentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers: they hold up Adam’s profession. (First Clown. Hamlet. Act V, Scene 1.)
I did not snap these for public consumption, rather as personal reminders of a recent and ongoing ‘rough patch’ in my life, a long stretch of days when my head seems to rest on a gravedigger’s spade. Nothing to share with all of y’all.
But then I got looking. And I got smiling. And now I am sharing.
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dear clusterflock
What is the most aesthetically pleasing professional sport?
need a bronze eagle?
Allen “Disgraced Ponzi Scheme Financier” Stanford’s assets are being liquidated.
“Everything here has a story,” Grimme said, sweeping his hand toward one of Stanford’s treasures — the tapestry of King Louis XIV — and toward a $99 blue leather chair from the Lowes Hotel in Miami Beach.
from the comments
I remember the day like it was yesterday. I said, “Oh, let’s clean up your desktop,” as I closed window after window. The doctor was great–didn’t bat an eye. She had wonderful porcelain skin and often advised me on how to care for my similarly fair complexion. She also explained to me how to read barcodes on manufacturers’ coupons in order to cheat the system (e.g., how to know if a coupon that says 16 oz size only actually will work on the 8 oz size). I had to swear never to share the information with anyone. The last time I saw her–maybe 2 years ago–she was gathering up all of the sugar and splenda packets at the coffee table during Grand Rounds.
quote out of context
James von Brunn is exactly like a lesbian studies major.
smurf blowjob
I think I found it.
Meat(wad) Dress
I contemplated many ideas, including beef jerky, ham, ground beef, prosciutto… but they were all too expensive, thick, and/or runny. I chose salami because it’s thin, keeps in one piece, and is quite cheap, and bacon because it looks very, um, meaty.
Diamonds on my fingers and my toes because I’m a Taurus.
(via marginal revolution)
from the comments
Did I ever tell y’all about the time around 12 years ago when we were offering computer basics classes to doctors? And the octogenenarian female doctor called me over because something was wrong with her computer, and it turned out that she had been resting her hand on the mouse and opened about 25 windows of the same thing–a little film of Smurfs having oral sex (saved to the desktop by a dental student, no doubt). That was a fun day at work.
Combustible
Here and there. One of Phil Bebbington’s photographs.
Burned. Burning. Burned. Smoldering.
Ignition.
Nox et amor | Response to Renner
I dig Renner’s picture. It set me to thinking.
Graphic Novels
I confess. I am pretty seriously into novelas gráficas with werewolf themes.
Balzacian | For Cindy
“This entire situation is both sordid and tedious,” I said to G____. “It is Balzacian.”
He agreed, adding, “It is certainly more Balzacian than Zolaesque.”
“Or Flaubertian,” I replied.