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.
Who was your Bowie?
Recently, in a storefront laboratory in Chinatown, Piper Kristensen, a bartender and occasional lab assistant who works for the avant-garde bar Booker and Dax in the East Village, studied a SodaStream Penguin. It had arrived fitted with a new feature, a device that was preventing him from carbonating the clear tomato juice he had purified in a centrifuge. He probed the carbonator’s dispensing valve, figured out that its plastic collar had to be raised, and twisted on a rubber band. In short order, he poured a fizzy cocktail of tomato juice, vodka and sugar into elegant cordial glasses.
He handed one to his boss, Dave Arnold, formerly the director of culinary technology at the International Culinary Center as well as an owner of Booker and Dax. Mr. Arnold sipped. “It tastes like ketchup soda,” he said. “Maybe you should go back to the egg cream.”
Bain News Service, publisher. Mrs. Herschel Parker. From the Bain Collection, Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.
Mr. Parker (Herschel Clifford Parker) was a Columbia physics professor and a founding member of the Explorers Club. In the spring of 1911 he married Evelyn Naegele. They honeymooned in Alaska.
Mrs. Herschel Parker last saw Professor Parker in 1919. In 1925 she petitioned a Brooklyn court to grant a divorce, citing abandonment and failure to support.
According to Mrs. Herschel Parker, the professor had said, “I am tired of looking after a wife and family. A man with my genius owes himself to mankind in general and cannot be tied down by family routine.”
Scrabbling to gobble at the cruise ship trough, then scrambling for a spot to shit it all out
As we await artist Tom Sale‘s election to the papacy as Pope Pinky I, the design for my Papal Archivist’s hat proceeds apace. This image, courtesy of friend Ian, offers the inspiration and foundation for my papal archival hat.
A kind of cylindrical Advent calendar is what I envision.
As archivist to Pope Pinky I, I vow to stress style over substance.
(via The Gothamist)
Six hundred topiary balls an hour. At least. Just imagine!
And there’s more — at Alexander Trevi’s Pruned:
In case you were wondering, they [Dutch company Gebroeders Ezendam] also have a GPS-propelled pruning machine. Give it a LIDAR scanning system, so it can build a 3D field map for better navigation and precision grooming. Give it extra processing power, and it can achieve full autonomy. And then some more, and keep on doing so until they reach sentience. At night after work, they’ll escape to their secret topiary gardens in the forests and perhaps in the cities, too, where they transgress from globules and Christmas trees to vegetal phantasmagoria.
With David Bowie’s “Star Man”. Et cetera. 2007.
“Yeah! Me, too!”
Please do me this one favor and watch all of this and you’ll be glad that you did.
Monsters! I’m David Bowie!
The strong and gusty winds may cause driving difficulties for high profile and lightweight vehicles.
Lightweight objects will also likely be blown around and small branches may break.
Use extra caution if you are traveling or headed outdoors this Saturday evening.