The first thing Romer did was analyze every fourth down during the first quarter of every NFL game between 1998 and 2000. (He had help from a computer program.) Then, he figured out the fluctuating value of a first down at each point on the football field. After all, a first down was more valuable for a team if it occurred on an opponents two yard line than on their own twenty yard line. The next thing Romer calculated was the statistical likelihood of going for it on fourth down under various circumstances and actually getting a first down. He also calculated the probability of kicking a successful field goal from various spots on the field.
In 36 hours. Out on the patio, I’m shivering.
Let’s start by sketching out the little that is known for certain. At 7 o’clock on the warm evening of Tuesday, November 30, 1948, jeweler John Bain Lyons and his wife went for a stroll on Somerton Beach, a seaside resort a few miles south of Adelaide. As they walked toward Glenelg, they noticed a smartly dressed man lying on the sand, his head propped against a sea wall. He was lolling about 20 yards from them, legs outstretched, feet crossed. As the couple watched, the man extended his right arm upward, then let it fall back to the ground. Lyons thought he might be making a drunken attempt to smoke a cigarette.
Half an hour later, another couple noticed the same man lying in the same position. Looking on him from above, the woman could see that he was immaculately dressed in a suit, with smart new shoes polished to a mirror shine—odd clothing for the beach. He was motionless, his left arm splayed out on the sand. The couple decided that he was simply asleep, his face surrounded by mosquitoes. “He must be dead to the world not to notice them,” the boyfriend joked.
The journalistic equivalent of The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World.
(via the browser)
In the film, the lady tells us how she isn’t the first, and “definitely not the last” to travel this far to have an Aryan child, one who, she imagined, would grow up grateful for the gift of racially superior intelligence. She speaks of an organised system behind such pregnancy tourism, but refuses to elaborate. “It’s not wrong, what I’m doing,” she says, “I’m paying for what I want.”
The movie is called Achtung Baby: In Search of Purity, and is about German women travelling to Indian villages to get knocked up by men they believe are the last of the pure Aryans.
(via the browser)
I guess this is what you get when you put an extension on a house this close to the ever-widening DC beltway, but man… I still feel bad for these folks.
Denise lost her vision when she was three. Her last visual memory was of lights on a Christmas tree. No idea why, but her eyes were surgically removed and replaced with glass eyes.
Naturally, Rome can’t possibly exceed the sum of its parts, with its successful composer and arranger in Luppi, its groundbreaking producer and composer in Danger Mouse, countless combined years of orchestra experience, a painstaking recording process with vintage equipment, and the juxtaposition of White’s fatalistic moan with Jones’ coolly detached croon. It almost has to sound better on paper than in practice, but it’s terrific in practice, too, as it alternates appropriately cinematic instrumentals with a handful of nifty showcases for its headliners.
Fuck it I’ve heard enough, I’m going to make some killer android app that listens to every word you hear and uses Google’s voice recognition shit and some semantic networks and logistic regression crap and fucking starts chirping at you whenever it detects someone is hitting on you, make it look like an incoming call from captain obvious or something. It make take a while to accumulate enough training data to detect every subtle hint but it should pick this one up pretty easily. #
I’ve been sitting on this too long, because, frankly, something like this comes along only once in a lifetime. So, if you’ve already seen it, you can’t unsee it anyway. And if you haven’t, I’m sorry.
If you know who made this, please link it in the comments. Image by Olly Moss (thanks, SC!)
Wired posted this story from Russia, reporting that a would-be suicide bomber’s explosive vest was accidentally detonated while she was still in her safe house. The culprit? Apparently, the explosion was triggered when her mobile carrier sent her an unexpected text message:
The message reportedly wished her a Happy New Years, according to the report, which sourced the info from security forces in Russia. Cell phones are often used as makeshift detonators by terrorist and insurgent groups.
How’s your weather?
I’m coming off of 14 hours of manning the phones during snow removal. We don’t have nothing like points east in the last week or so. Still I’ve been up since 3:45 this morning. Phones ringing and answering with calls coming in as I talked. I’d like to think it’s under control. Phones are quiet now, but who can say? We might have another 2.5″ by 6:00 in the morning. I imagine the phones will start again about 2:00 am. I’m off to bed now, I’ll let you know how it goes.
Amazing how things that happened this morning seem like two days ago.
Oooo! And windchills here tomorrow are expected to be -25. It will be a bitter day for our workers. But we’ll be in final clean-up. I don’t know what to expect.