I've always been a "believer" in Cosmic Triplets, because a friend once told me that miraculous things come in threes. Typically, the triplet theory goes, the miraculous thing is hearing a new or interesting word. Then you hear it again and again.
So over the weekend we watched The White Diamond, a solid Werner Herzog documentary about an imprecise adventurer trying to fly a helium balloon over a rainforest canopy.
On Sunday, I learned that the local Occupy group had ... re-banded ... to float a tent in the air with helium balloons. They took a picture. As I drove to work Monday morning, I saw a pickup truck approaching with numerous helium balloons trailing off the back. Some slipped into the sky.
The question that everyone is asking, of course: Is this the best sports GIF ever?
I say yes. But you can see for yourself over here. Apparently March Madness warrants a bracket for everything. That's fine with me. Especially if animated GIFs are involved. I love me some animated GIFs.
Thanks to a co-worker, I had the distinct pleasure of running into this video, which serves as an advertisement for The Guardian newspaper over in England. Enjoy.
At least it's dead when it comes to sharing items, which was one of the primary functions for me. The sharing options transformed it into a tight-knit, and effective information sharing community. A place for swapping animated .GIFS, silly news, and serious journalism updates. Now it's just a utilitarian tool for keeping track of my internet habits. It kind of sucks.
My initial rage at the integration of Reader into the now cemetery-like Google+ died down about 24 hours after the change. But I feel my friends and I are going through the withdrawal stages. Seriously, I've had so many run-ins this week where I excitedly went to share an item, only to realize the buttons to do so have vanished. The really important things I posted to Facebook, which only made me feel kind of dirty -- that's not how I want to use Facebook. And Google+ sharing lacks the simple, intuitive functionality that I prefer.
So I'm resolved to feel this way:
Actually, that image is from a fun and recurring graphic series that's popped up in my Google Reader over the past few days. I love it. I would have loved to share it with you sooner. Sry 2 say, it's not my fault.
Regardless, the world moves on and I must adapt. Perhaps this means more posts for this blog, a sliver of optimism I can pull from the fallout of this mess. Here are some other items I found interesting:
They aren't all serious shares, after all, it's kind of tough to care that much about the Bieber news (and the ever-pissy Andy Rooney death news didn't make the cut). But still, it was that mix of silly!stupid and serious shares that made going to Reader multiple times a day so much fun. For a couple of days Google was dead to me. Then I realized the middle ground, that unlike other social networking websites, Google kept the same look for years. I appreciate that, and I'll weigh that when considering my loyalty to Google (not that loyalty even matters when it comes to Google, it's fingerprints are on everything I touch).
The landscape changes, I suppose. And now that we're in this post-apocalyptic, post-Reader world, where sharing items lives in the black market of random emails and annoying Facebook spam, my mind turns to this response:
Here's the deal, you can only read this bitch once...after that, it will never be the same. So find a comfortable spot and dive into this masterful piece of work.
In fact, the best way to introduce this article is to quote directly from it:
"The fight for the dog is matched in intensity only by the fight for the money. The filings in this case have unveiled a scrumptious buffet of new information about Richard Scaife's riches -- where they've come from and where they've gone."
On another note, I wrote to David Segal (who, after perusing his New York Times trove of stories, has become a byline I plan to follow) and received a pleasant e-mail in return less than an hour later.
A snippet: "Thanks for writing me. I must say I did enjoy that Scaife piece. Oh lawdy lawdy was it fun."
Went to the dentist this morning. Witnessed a classic move: Just as the dentist was about to dive in he snagged the remote, wheeled around to the stereo and knocked it up a notch. On the radio? The Who's "Baba O'Riley." Go time.
* WSJ had some good stuff today. Turns out the new biodegradable Sun Chips bag was too noisy, so they're scrapping it. Also interesting was their recent report on new ocean species and a new language in India. They also reported that an average baseball broadcast has 14 minutes of action. About 68% of baseball broadcasts show "standing around."
Katie and I stay busy this weekend with the art show of the season around here. Chase and I are headed to St. Petersburg for a journalism conference in a couple weeks. And we're trying to carve out Halloween in Athens, OH.
Anytime I see a runaway truck ramp, I wonder. Some seem pretty reasonable, long stretches of gravel with ample speed-bumps. But there are some along I-64 in West Virginia...and along I-17 between Flagstaff and Phoenix that look absolutely nuts.
Actually, the grades of different roads interest me, in general. I think I've seen an 8%...for sure a 7%. But apparently those are just peanuts compared to what else is out there.
From what I can tell, there isn't an "official" list about the steepest paved grades in the world, but there has been a bit of controversy. For a long time New Zealand claimed to have the steepest with their staggering 35% Baldwin Street in Dunedin.
At one point the Kiwis claimed Baldwin Street had a 38% grade, but once more precise calculations came out, it put several American streets in contention for the steepest title...particularly the 37% Canton Avenue in Pittsburgh.
That lasted for a bit, however, nothing has come close to Hawaii's Honokaa-Waipo Road (near Waipo). Although it is brief, it boasts 45%. Traffic is apparently restricted to four-wheel-drive vehicles only.
1. Honokaa-Waipio Road, Hawaii - 45% 2. Canton Avenue, Pittsburgh - 37% 3. 28th Street (between Gaffey and Peck), Los Angeles - 33.3% 4. Eldred Street, Los Angeles - 33% 5. Baxter Street, Los Angeles - 32% 6. Fargo Street, Los Angeles - 32% 7. Maria Avenue, San Diego - 32% 8. Dornbush Street, Pittsburgh - 31.98%
Also, some other strange streets:
THE WORLD'S SHORTEST: Ebenezer Place - found in Wick, Caithness in Scotland. It measures only 6 foot 9 inches in length and only has one address: 1 Ebenezer Place. It became an official street in 1887.
THE WORLD'S NARROWEST: Parliament Street - connects Waterbeer Lane to High Streetand in Exeter, England. It was built during the 14th century. The street, which measures 45 inches at its widest point and less than 25 inches at is narrowest, used to be referred to as Small Lane.
WORLD'S CROOKEDEST STREET: Lombard Street - This San Francisco street in has 8 turns in a 1/4 mile stretch. It was designed this way to minimize the steep 27% grade, which most cars couldn’t climb. With the twists and turns, the grade is only 16%. Lombard Street is one way only and the speed limit is 5 mph.
"Go up Skyline Drive," Sean told us, "and if you look back to your right after the first big curve, you can see the castle."
So we did, of course, capturing ourselves the image seen above: the castle atop Afton Mountain, a short jaunt from our home. I took the picture through my dented Rummage Sale binoculars.
But it's not enough that we've got a castle, or that it belongs to the Royal Orchard that sent apples to the Queen of England, or that it has its own driveway bridge across an Interstate (click here, use Street View on I-64 at Royal Orchard Drive), or that it was so awesome that it dictated the route of Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park.
What's best is that it spawned a ... fan site ... that without any frills pieces together a strange history of the place. As you'll see, the Web site host simply leaves the site up and waits for those with knowledge and rumors and scraps to write in e-mails that get posted verbatim. It's enthralling to hear from these visitors and past deliverymen and whoever else managed to get a peek at the grounds.
A "decedent" recently wrote in as well to confirm much of the information and hoped that the writing "quenched all curiosity about our beloved home."
Au contraire. It just makes me want to look again at images of the place and wonder what might be true.
My room-redesign makes me read more. For the first time in a long time I have my music, internet, favorite images, and Econ's old webcam all in the same place.
Since Sunday morning I've read more from The Atlantic, The New York Times, and The Onion than I care to recall. I found the urban wonders of the world, 'Skyped' with someone overseas, and found a weird site called Old Jews Telling Jokes (check out Diane Hoffman, "Broccoli" first).
I park at home, almost always, at least for fear of finding myself at the end of a work day with my car the work lot, needing to be moved less than 400 feet.
I could go on about the alley, the co-worker smoke breaks, and our back deck; or how I feel the need to explain to the students walking to the high school that when I do occasionally drive to work, it's only because I'm going to pause there just a moment then continue on to the courts or to an interview.
The movement and scope of our daily lives has its limits.
But one day, walking the alley I walk everyday, I found a paintbrush holder with "Purdy" on it (see above).
One month later, same alley, I found a broken piece of a van. Not Purdy, but:
A two-person game of Scrabble feels and plays completely different than a four-person game. It's like you have to train yourself to play both types. And tonight I played my first non-Wordbiz bingo. Maybe everyone gets to this point, but once you play your first bingo, you start noticing them more often.
The highest scoring 7-letter bingo in Scrabble is MUZJIKS.
The highest scoring 8-letter bingo in Scrabble is QUIZZIFY (with a blank Z). Without the blank: BEZIQUES and CAZIQUES.
But tonight I played STRONGER. The other night I built BALLOONINGS from LOON.
When you play 8-10 games a day, you start seeing potential Scrabble boards in your head. Even at lunch, even when you take a bite of a baked potato, you won't stop those Scrabble tiles from popping up in your mind. P-O-T-A-T-O (that's almost a bingo...s....). You even start talking about similar Scrabble stories like the family games.
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In a great independent study on New Journalism, I'm reading:
+ The Gang That Wouldn't Write Straight + The New Kings of Nonfiction (second read) + Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (second read) + The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved (second read) + The New New Journalism: Conversations with America's Best Nonfiction Writers on Their Craft
Over Christmas break I read my first bit of Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem. Her ability to keep me actively reading her boring stories just through her descriptive prowess made the read worth it. But, I was only super-impressed with one of her essays.
I read a decent Poynter piece on narrative journalism during my visit to Katie and Tony in Waynesboro, Virginia. I read it again tonight while I worked some more on the massive bag of puppy chow they gave me during my visit. Erin ate some too.
+ Malcolm Gladwell has a new book on the way about how people rise to the top and what it means to be an expert. He talked with the WSJ about it. I'm chasing more expertise links, via Wikipedia, etc. So far...
+ My GoogleReader is really important. I'm not sure what Tumblr is all about, but I found one Tumblr to GoogleRead and it showed me this photo.
+ Investigation into U.S. Air Marshals. + The horror of fire is bothering me more lately. + DNA evidence is clearing innocent convicts, in some places more than others.
