Clusterflock is what introduced me to the most interesting parts of the web. I love this site and all the people involved, but I think it’s time to officially shut it down. In the forthcoming weeks I’ll be converting this to a static site for archival and security purposes. What this means is the url structure and all the content will remain, but comments will be closed permanently and there will be no CMS to create new posts.
Thanks, everybody, we’ll see you around the web.
Stolen from Metafilter. I don’t have a MeFi account, so I can’t even favorite things over there, much less comment. So I figured I’d re-pose the question here.
The MeFi thread is great, but bring tissues. I loved this one most:
My uncle, Albert Crary, was an extraordinary man. Not only was he an explorer and scientist of both poles (The Crary Mountains in Antarctica were named by him and the A.P. Crary Science and Engineering Center at McMurdo Station was named fo him) but he gathered stories like no one I’ve ever met. At his public memorial in Washington DC at, I believe, the Cosmos Club, speaker after speaker got up and told about his staunchness, his incredible endurance, but most importantly, they all told a funny story about him: The time he fell off the ice shelf and what he said to the preacher after his rescue when the preacher came looking for a good sermon. The time he went shopping for supplies in South America when they were running a geophysical line across a South American swamp. The time my father put my brother up to calling him and acting like a dumb reporter asking the stupidest questions imaginable about the ice island T3.
Months later, we had a private memorial in his hometown of Canton, New York. One-by-one his nieces, nephews, in-laws and friends got up and told more stories. To all of us he’d been the source of fun, support and laughter when we were growing up – he never let any of us take ourselves too seriously, but he was always there when anyone needed help. When my turn came, I got up, told my story and then said this:
Everyone deserves an Uncle Albert, we were just fortunate enough to have had one.
posted by BillW at 5:23 PM on March 30
(Via the wonderful Ed Yong.)
We’re planning to have a barbecue at our house this Sunday. You’re not invited but I can’t stop you from coming. I’ll smoke pork shoulder, beef brisket, and chicken legs all day on Saturday in preparation for the party. You can’t have any of them. The meat will be accompanied by three different kinds of homemade barbecue sauce: hickory & molasses, brown sugar & cayenne, and Carolina mustard. You’ll never taste any of my condiments. My wife is making her famous vegetable slaw, three kinds of potato salad, and that thing she does with fresh fruit and pecans. None for you, though. I soak dried beans myself and bake them in a tangy sauce that’s loaded with bacon and sweet onions. You can have some of that. Only baked beans for you.
The good soldier of cinema. I kept calling him that and he kept calling me that. He saw in me a good soldier in cinema. I said you are even more. He was a wounded soldier. He was ill and struggled and was still plowing on relentlessly. And that was completely and utterly admirable and I love him for that.
This is the story of a snake, a bear, and a little girl. Three great friends living together on the forested slopes beneath a mountain. There is a glade within the forest. Evergreens surround the meadow-grass, fireweed, and bee balm. The mountain’s snowcap is visible on clear days. Warmed by the sun, the three friends lay in a lazy pile near a broad, flat boulder. The bear licks the bottoms of the girl’s bare feet. The coiled snake dozes on the boulder. Summer is over but the days remain pleasant.
but that’s me all over.
“The bees make it,” noted Andrew. He knew I’d dig the bees.
Also, the upright rabbit kind of reminds me of Andrew.
Happy Easter, happy spring, everyone!
And I mean the way-back days. Sheila Ryan Coiffed like a Pinhead. One of the first things I remember seeing in my early days here. For the record, I believe the chick in the photo is now a regular on American Horror Story Asylum. I am addicted.
Give me. Your dirty love.
That is all. I love y’all all up.