The Space Needle under construction

World’s Fair Sliding Pt. 3 « Vintage Seattle — A High-Res Blog Visualizing Seattle’s Past

Our official wedding portrait, by Vicki Nerino

me & her: Avoiding the Comment Wasteland →

Comment threads on most sites aren’t democracies, they’re not well-structured public debates, they’re public lynchings, often ignored (or worse: sponsored by) the content creator, cheered on by a bloodthirsty, venomous and usually ignorant crowd. The winning argument is the loudest, the most obnoxious, the most oft-repeated, and the one backed by numbers. People will fight about—or for—anything.

As @al_robertson said “What does Friday afternoon need? HEAVY AZTEC PHYCHEDELIA!!”

The Sir Douglas Quintet moves with the best of them, during a rendition of their hit She’s About A Mover.

"The piece started with a rest of seventeen months, beginning September 5, 2001, which was the 89th anniversary of Cage’s birth. The first audible sound appeared on February 5, 2003"

Wikipedia on John Cage’s Organ²/ASLSP

"Wheeler had walked into two Pittsburgh banks and attempted to rob them in broad daylight.  What made the case peculiar is that he made no visible attempt at disguise.  The surveillance tapes were key to his arrest.  There he is with a gun, standing in front of a teller demanding money.  Yet, when arrested, Wheeler was completely disbelieving.  “But I wore the juice,” he said.  Apparently, he was under the deeply misguided impression that rubbing one’s face with lemon juice rendered it invisible to video cameras."

Errol Morris returns to his NY Times blog. The Anosognosic’s Dilemma: Something’s Wrong but You’ll Never Know What It Is (Part 1) - Opinionator Blog - NYTimes.com

via WOW

1948 Buick Streamliner by Norman E. Timbs http://www.thecoolist.com/1948-buick-streamliner-by-norman-e-timbs/

“The patient no longer responds to his name. Whenever I go to speak with him, he presents me with a note card (he cannot function without them), across the top of which he has written “Enter Player Name,” and underneath he has marked five spaces for letters.”

Player One, Patient Zero, by Nick Martens