Daily View, 12/21

• Ok, so the Michel Gondry Rubik's think is a fake. I've updated my original post.


• A whole mess of free music is available via Paper Thin Walls, who have made a big ass 2006 Mixtape that is yours for the downloading...


• Not to be outdone in this season of Top 10s, Mark from BoingBoing lists his fave videos of the last few YEARS.


• Wow. Fuck. Wow. What Happens To Your Body If You Drink A Coke Right Now?


• Top 10 tourism & travel ideas in 2006


• WalMart is selling Christian convert-or-kill video games. Niiiiiiice. So Where's the game where the objective is to kill as many Christians as possible? Hey, we heathen have been taking it up the ass for way too long, damn it.


• Gender testing?? Crazy. The spectrum of gender is hardly black and white. And were male athletes really trying to compete as females in the 60s? I thought that was just in bad Rodney Dangerfield movies...


• Instant vertigo. This is AWESOME: Grand Canyon's Glass Walkway to Open Next March


• J. K. Rowling announces the final Harry Potter book. Meh. She should've just called it The Death of Harry Potter.


• My Inner Gay Man is ecstatic—there's a Pet Shop Boys exhibition on at the National Gallery!!! I'm so flying to London to see this.


• The Shower Project. Yes, you guessed it. Some guys showers with as many women as possible.


• Hardboiled egg cubes. I'm a little fascinated yet horrified.


• C'mon, it's not a real legit collection of TV theme tunes unless you have Land of the Lost, everyone knows that...


• Google in Space!
  
• Wired suggests that you may not actually need all those fatty megapixels on your digicam.


• Genius. Penguins made of cream cheese (and what looks like black olives). You know I'm anti-penguin, but not even my cold, penguin-embittered heart can resist these.


• And, in case you missed it, the Andy Samburg/Justin Timberlake dick in a box sketch that everyone's been twittering about all week.

Daily View, 12/18: Ghost from the past

When I was 14, I spent a summer learning French in Morzine, a small Alpine Franco-Swiss border village. There were ten American kids and seventy French kids... needless to say, for a few weeks the overwhelmed American minority stuck with their own (except for Will, who refused to speak to any of us—refused to speak in English at all, mostly. He was pasty and bovine with feminine hips. He buttoned his polo shirts up all the way and knew all the names and numbers of the planes that flew overhead. As you can guess, most of us were happy not to talk to Will). Nancy and Susan were from the rich St. Louis suburbs, sweet and sheltered. Kathryn and I were both from U. City, which walked a fine line between ghetto-style hood and culturally-rich progressive liberal enclave (thus messing with our identities in ways that still impact, even now). Alex and Lucy were from a school in Arkansas—Alex was handsome, silent, wore a Black Flagg t-shirt the entire time, while Lucy was a pseudo-homely blonde who managed to use that to her popular advantage in a way that only southerners seem to be able to pull off. Jesse was a weaselly little skate-rat... not sure where he came from.

Finally, Tim and Olly were pals from a wealthy prep school in Tennessee. They were privileged, smart and funny as hell... but kinda nasty. Tim was the nicer of the two—mild-mannered but naughty, soft-spoken and gigantically tall with dark dark skin (the French crassly called him simply "Le Grand Noir" in a way that horrified Kathryn and I, who would have gotten our asses kicked at school had we ever referred to anyone as "The Big Black"). Olly was the shit-stirrer. Raunchy, devilish, bordering on cruel, he was an owlishly piggy boy with sharp beady blue eyes and a wicked sense of humor. He and I hit it off right away. Kathryn and I ran with Tim and Olly for the entire session, and even did a bit of writing back and forth after we all went back to our separate corners of the US. We forgave them for trying to convince us that they'd touched us in adolescently-unexplored places while we were asleep on bivouac (in the hayloft, of course). We aided and abetted them as they tried to steal wine from Madame Bouet—running gleefully into the corn, we crowded around Tim as he took a giant sip... then spat in revulsion (it was vinegar) at the very same moment one of the wild mountain horses appeared and nipped him from behind as Olly's choking laughter rang down the mountainside. We helped them terrorize Jesse, we conspired with them over which of the twentysomething counselors were having sex, we tried to help them bust Philippe et Martin getting it on under their covers at night in the boy's upstairs, we taught them all the curse words our French girlgang roommates taught us, etc. I have fond, slightly unsettling memories of those guys. But, despite our occasional correspondence (which, looking back on, I'm impressed we even made that effort), we fell out of touch.

So today, full-grown Olly pops up on CoolHunting, a site I follow with some regularity. I'd heard something about him developing technology, but now I have a full update—complete with video. Kinda creepy, really. The piggy boy initially grew up into a piggy adult but has since morphed into a Danny Houston-ish bear of an art collector, visible on this video (takes a while to load) and in this bio page. I kinda want to contact him and rip on him a little bit for the cheesy ass adult he has become, but 1) that would just be bad form and 2) he is clearly way too LA-cool for peasants like me these days anyway. The whole thing has kind of shaken me up, to be honest, and I'm starting to realize that Danny Houston-esque boys have been coming in and out of my life since I was a young teen—what is that about??

The only other person from that French adventure that I've ever encountered again is Susan—she and I ended up across from each other at a bar, doing the how-do-I-know-you squint at each other across a table full of mutual friends (perhaps inevitable—there are less than six degrees of separation between any social group in St. Louis). After I finally figured out that it was Susan from Morzine and we had our gush session, she confessed that she'd had some sort of sexual misadventure on that trip involving the slightly predatory French boys, which shocked me. Yet another reason I kinda want to contact Olly—what was his impression of that trip and had he had any shocking misadventures (outside the hayloft, of course)?? So I've become a professional creative (what a bullshit term), Olly has become a Hollywood networking tech developer/art collector/schmooze and Susan has become a Protestant Minister. Wonder where everybody else is (well, except for Will—he's either an airplane pilot or a serial killer, I'd bet money on it).

And this would be the rambling part of rants & ramblings... ;)

Daily View, 12/17: Helsinki Complaints Choir

From Eva, who is attempting to actually learn this language (granted, she's half-Finnish...). Why is the cord of the vaccuum cleaner too short... just like summer...

Daily View, 12/16, Gothamist Edition

Many of my news feeds were neglected this week, which proved to a be a nightmare marathon of 12-16 hour workdays (except for Apocalypso night—thanks Kenbe!). Now, finally able to catch my breath here on a sunny Saturday, I've just caught up on some of my news. A troll through a week's worth of Gothamist has yielded enough for a separate Gothamist-themed post:

• Table for One: the world of the solo diner. I have always felt like I should be better at dining alone, since I'm usually wandering around by myself. But I suck at it. (Rather, I suck at it when I'm on my own turf—when I travel I have zero problem sitting alone in a restaurant.) I hate sitting at the bar, much less eating there, so the usual routes of camouflage don't work for me. But I'm glad to see proud solo dining is on the rise. Maybe I'll take myself out to dinner. Meanwhile, the comments on this one are pretty interesting—a guy took himself out for a four hour, 24 course meal??


• Damn, I'm always late catching on—this weekend is the three-day only open house for the Wooster Collective, a house entirely covered in street art (inside and out). After tomorrow, all art will be destroyed. Apparently it's quite a site. I may try to rush down there now...


• Also this weekend: Lebowski Fest. Don't miss the "two minute symphonic f-bombardment" video at the bottom of the page—the entire movie, summed up in a continuous string of fuckenfuckenfuckenfuck.


• Oh, Rosie... Gothamist makes fun of her non-apology ("at least she didn't say 'solly'") and wonders what people in China have to say, if anything. Meanwhile, the comments on this one run the gamut of wrong.


• Bob Dylan protests Factory Girl, further delaying the it-girl buzz vehicle for overrated non-actress Sienna Miller. Hayden Christensen as Dylan? Come on, that's got to be a sign of the apocalyps...o. More from Gothamist on the film and the Dylan/Warhol/Sedgwick thing.
  
  Meanwhile, side note: Life on Mars is used in the Factory Girl trailer, further cementing David Bowie's status as a whore and a genius. Let other artists be protective of their usage rights—Bowie seems to let his stuff be used whenever, wherever, and it's paying off. He's creating a nice modern presence for his past persona, while at the same time living his current less-visible life as Mr. Iman and mogul. He's everywhere, effortlessly, and seems like a fresh fit. Makes other older artists who are hovering protectively over their catalogs seem like dinosaurs. Personally, three years ago, I knew one Bowie song (two if you count the muppetty stuff from Labyrinth). Today, simply through soaking it up through film and media, I have learned quite a bit about Bowie. My point: I have not sought him out. He has been delivered to me. Bowie, cheerfully allowing his fans to infuse the modern media with accessible entry points to fandom... sly. Life on Mars wasn't released until 1973—Sedgwick had been dead for two years already. Yet here's Bowie on the soundtrack of her life. Most people don't pay attention to the details, further lining his pockets and legacy. Kinda brilliant. Wrong but brilliant.


• The 29 most important families in New York include the usuals (Trumps, Hearsts, Laurens, Huntzbergers Sulzbergers) but also throws a bone to the Schnabels (which the art world knew already) and—really?!—the Foer brothers (as in Jonathan Safran).


• RIP Peter Boyle.


• And finally, One Punk Under God, the reality show about Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker's alterna-thumper kid, has hit the airwaves after much buzz and argument about whether this is legit or just more bullshit exploitation.

Daily View, 12/15: Gondry vs Rubik's Cube

So does this mean he qualifies for a competitive internship at Dean Witter?


UPDATE 12/21: Yeah, it's fake. So tricky, that Gondry:

Daily View, 12/13

• AT LAST, I may finally be able to have my own action figure—though admittedly DIY is hardly as cool as being one of the X-men or a Batvillain. Sigh.


• 50 greatest commercials of the 80s (and the sequel 50 more 80s commercials) takes me right back to the days when I thought all cool people put sticks of gum in their mouth like that. Stadium not included? Bastards. How creepy is it that I know all the words to the My Buddy theme song? Yikes.


• Because this is too weird and fascinating and mildly violating to keep to myself (poor *g has already experienced it): turtle sex. Give it a second, then prepare for some reptile vocalization... the screaming of the lambs...


• Apocalypto recut by SNL. And perhaps you'd like some Hot Chocolypto to go with your lacerated flesh (though... cayenne pepper?).


• Classic Christmas specials redubbed—Frosty wants your soul, foulmouthed Charlie Brown, etc. Burl Ives is spinning in his grave.


• More graphic nature videos (though no turtle sex this time, I promise): Great White shark attacks are dramatic enough without slow motion and psycho violins, though admittedly this is quite a stunner. Poor Anaconda. And lions attack their zookeeper. I'm telling you, this shit is like crack. No wonder people are addicted to reality TV. Bonus: ligers (which were awesome long before Napoleon Effing Dynamite, thanks) and superlions.

Daily View, 12/10

• This is what's wrong with the world, man:
  Teen boy #1: No, the gold one is called 'CD3' or something. The little one is, like, 'R4M23.'
  Teen boy #2: I think the gold robot was named 'R3DM24.' It was the small one that was 'C-something.'
  Teen boy #3: No, man, the gold guy was 'C3DDO,' and the little silver one was 'RH52' or some shit.
  Frustrated 30-something lady behind them: The gold one is 'C3PO' and the smaller one is 'R2-D2'!
  Teen boy #2: Oh, thanks -- you can tell we're not Trekkies.
  Overheard (not by me, thankfully, or there would have been an asswhuppen) on the M15 bus


• Scary Poppins


• Amazing bird videos: try to resist the gravity-defying Mandarin ducklings. And, for good measure, the popular lyre bird who can imitate sounds of electronics (the payoff is near the end).


• Wtf? Well, why not. There should be more mashups of animal skeleton and modern gadgetry.


• Good lord, you're not actually allowed to say "meet-cute", for fuck's sake! The Onion reviews The Holiday. While I'm interested in the absurdity of the Winslet-Black pairing and will be glad to see Jude Law on handsome auto-pilot, there are things about it that are absolutely repellant (Diaz, the genre, etc.). Am very wary, though I know I'll see it. Nice to have Kate Winslet around again—she was originally cast as Bridget Jones (had to drop out b/c of pregnancy and Renee Zellweger stepped in and made a mess) and this role hints at what she could have done with Bridget. Don't get me started.


• Never miss another concert with Tourfilter. I'd like to pretend I have enough of a social life to need this, but really... come on.


• Top Music Videos of 2006


• Slate examines the first season of 90210. I remember this season—it was the one where every episode had a moral lesson, before the whole thing became a soap opera and popular. In true nerd fashion, I was the only one watching the first season, and then the only one not watching after that. Sigh.


• That is a cool ass air matress. The Wovel, on the other hand...


• Man, I really want a Sun Jar. But they're sold out everywhere. So maybe I'll have to make my own...


• Apocalypto is out, wreaking havoc all over the place. I was interested in this from a nerd cultural anthro POV, but apparently it's not really about the Mayans at all... it's just about Mel Gibson's insatiable appetite for violence:
  "It teaches us nothing about Mayan civilization, religion, or cultural innovations. (Calendars? Hieroglyphic writing? Some of the largest pyramids on Earth?) Rather, Gibson's fascination with the Mayans seems to spring entirely from the fact (or fantasy) that they were exotic badasses who knew how to whomp the hell out of one another, old-school. You don't leave Apocalypto thinking of the decline of civilizations or the power of myth or anything much except, wow, that is one sick son of a bitch."
  Sigh. Meanwhile, the Village Voice sings a similar song, but chooses to focus on "sugar tit village" (nice, Hoberman).

Daily View, 12/7, Celeb sightings

• Seagulls attack whales!
• Your civil liberties disappear before your eyes... on a mug.
• We're building a moon base. I'm so there. Bonus: another article about this development.
• Poor George Clooney has lost his pig. Though honestly he doesn't seem that broken up about it...
• What the hell is with the eyelid surgeries? I knew girls at Parsons who wanted it, one who'd even had it done. Seems ridiculous to me.

So I was in line at Duane Reade behind one of the lesser Wayans brothers last night—I guess even the star of modern classics like White Chicks and Little Man (shudder) needs to buy a lottery ticket at midnight on a Wednesday. This got me thinking about the various celebrity sightings I've had during my 3+ years in the ci-tay:

---

SHAWN WAYANS
Spotted buying a lottery ticket round midnight at Duane Reade drugstore, 34th St & 8th Ave
Actual encounter
He was in line in front of me. I said nothing.

What could/should have happened
Kate: "Yo, lesser Wayans brother. I miss Keenen Ivory and Damon. What the hell are they up to lately? Why do you keep making these crap modern buffoon movies? Sigh."
Wayans: "You miss Keenen and Damon? Keenan's been producing and directing and Damon's been on TV."
Kate: "I feel like I haven't seen them in ages. I miss the In Living Color days."
Wayans: (skeptically) "Really..."
Kate: "Yeah, I grew up on In Living Color. I know I look like the whitest of white girls but I come from the hood."
Wayans: "Please. Get the fuck out of here, crazy bitch."
Kate: "Alright, not the hood exactly, but I did go to a 90% black school."
Wayans: (to checkout lady) "Let me get a lottery ticket... like, to go."

---

BOB SAGET
Spotted at Parsons giving his daughter a tour of the school
Actual encounter
He walked through a couple of my classes and student common areas with a pouty teen in tow.

What could/should have happened
Kate: "Hi Bob. A good friend of mine looks a lot like you. So is this must be the daughter you were referencing in your standup act for Comic Relief 1990... you know, the "Sleep with meeeeeee" line.
Bob Saget: "Er... yes."
Kate: (to daughter) "So say the line."
Sagette: "What? Omigod, Dad, let's go."
Kate: "Come onnnnn, say it. One of you has to say it."
Bob Saget: "I can't believe you remember—"
Sagette: "Daaaaaad!"
Kate: "Come onnnn!"
Sagette: "I don't want to go to this school! I am never going to live that shit down!"
Bob Saget: "Honey—"
Kate: "Come on, it was a great act. When you put the camera down your pants—"
Bob Saget: (ushering a furious Sagette towards the elevator) "Ok, let's go."
Kate (calling after them): "Sleeep with meeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Passing Asian fashion student: "You want to sleep with Bob Saget? Gross!"

---

SAM WATERSTON
Spotted at Barnes & Noble, Chelsea
Actual encounter
We collided near the entrance, both excused ourselves and walked on as the nearby security guard yelped out, "Hey, it's the guy from Law & Order!". Waterston seemed very nice, though in something of a calm hurry to get back to his private celebrity life.

What could/should have happened
Kate: "Sam Waterston! I've never seen an episode Law & Order—not really interested in that sort of thing—but I loved you in Lantern Hill."
Sam Waterston: (befuddled) "Really? That was like... twenty years ago. And Canadian. I think you're the only one who's actually seen that."
Kate: "Yeah. Shame. It was good. Do you ever hear from Mairon Bennett? I wonder if she's still acting. Sarah Polley's done pretty well for herself, eh?"
Sam Waterston: "Er..."
Kate: (after an awkward silence) "Too long ago?"
Sam Waterston: "Totally."
Kate: "Ah well. Seeya."
Sam Waterston: "Take care."

---

GABRIEL BYRNE
Spotted with his daughter walking their dog on Smith Street in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn
Actual encounter
Eva and Kate walk silently past the members of the Byrne family, saying nothing and trying not to eye the small frilly dog with obvious disdain.
Eva: (once safely out of earshot) "Was that..."
Kate: "Yes. That dog..."
Eva: "I know... so, sushi for lunch?"
Kate: "Sure."

What could/should have happened
Kate: "Hello, Mr. Byrne. Just wanted to say that I'm a big fan."
Gabriel Byrne: (pleasantly) "Well hello, and thanks. This is my daughter, Romey."
Romey Byrne: (shyly) "Hello."
Kate: (nodding at the beribboned canine) "And who is this?"
Gabriel Byrne: "This is Romey's dog Princess." (Lights a cigarette.) "Romey, why don't you walk Princess to the end of the block, mm?"
The child and dog proceed towards Douglass Street. As soon as they are safely out of hearing, Gabriel Byrne sighs in frustration.
Gabriel Byrne: "Look, I know what you're about to say."
Kate: "That dog..."
Gabriel Byrne: "I know, I know. But what can I do, the girl loves the silly dog. I already feel badly enough about my failed marriage. The girl barely knows her mother."
Eva: "Who's her mother again?"
Gabriel Byrne, Kate: "Ellen Barkin."
Eva: "Oh right."
Gabriel Byrne: "I just try to suck it up. Comes with being a father, you know?"
Kate: "Yeah..."
Eva: (after an awkward silence) "Don't worry, you're still hot."
Gabriel Byrne: (visibly relieved) "Thanks. No one has really said that since the late 90s. Cheers, ladies."
Kate: (calling after him as he heads off after his daughter) "Loved you in Little Women!"

---

STEVEN COJOCARU
Spotted huddled over a cell phone and chain smoking outside Barnes & Noble, Chelsea
Actual encounter
Yuthi: "Look, there's Cojo."
Kate: "Oh yeah, there he is. He's kind of a freak, yeah?"
Yuthi: "Absolutely."

What could/should have happened
Yuthi: "Look, there's Cojo."
Kate: "Oh yeah, there he is. He's kind of a freak, yeah?"
Yuthi: "Absolutely."

---

I'll have to try and recall other celeb sightings. Since I don't leave the house as often as I'd like, I barely see a damn soul, much less any famous people. To be continued...

Daily View, 12/4, very belated RIP Mitch Hedberg

Back after a long apathetic hiatus (who's really reading, anyways?). Some of these links have been in storage during my absence, so may be a bit dusty to some.

Always the last to know, I only just found out that comedian Mitch Hedberg died of a drug overdose last year. This came as a shock, because I only just learned of his existence, and there was recent video and everything. Sigh. RIP. Consider this post lightly Mitch-flavored in ridiculous, meaningless memoriam.

• The Mitch Hedberg Random Quoter is a great way to crack yourself up.


• See if you can correctly identify countries in the world map game. This is harder than the 50 states game.


• The View From Your Window is a blog about... well, about exactly that. I'd send mine in but it so depressing (basically the same as this, which is from our bathroom).


• Funny people list their desert island comedies (subscriber-only archive, alas—though sometimes the print version can be seen by non subscribers... ?)


• Random Mitch quote:I wanna climb a mountain. Not so I could get to the top... cuz I wanna hang out at basecamp. That scene's fuckin' fun as shit. You sleep in a colorful tent, you grow a beard, you drink hot chocolate, you walk around. "Hey, you goin' to the top?" .......... "Soon..." Perhaps I will put this on a t-shirt before I head up Kilimanjaro or Mt. Fuji.


• Jane Goodall is down with Sasquatch. Rock on, Jane.


• An entire site devoted to retro pop songs that have been ruined by contemporary advertisements and another dedicated to songs that have been ruined by associations with ex-boyfriends & girlfriends. I love the internet.


• Idolator looks at the worst James Bond songs of all time. Thankfully, Duran Duran's View to a Kill is spared... that song rocked, despite its Bondly goofiness. I still have that in my music library.


• Random Mitch quote: I especially hate turtlenecks. I wear a turtleneck it's like being strangled by a really weak guy... all fuckin' day. If you wear a turtleneck and a backpack it's like a weak midget trying to bring you down. This is possibly my favorite. Turtlenecks are fucking awful. They are outlawed in my kingdom. The mock turtleneck is even worse. I could never love a man in a mock turtleneck. I'm writing a novel based on this premise. Bestseller in the making, damn it.


• Science in the shower: Periodic table shower curtain


• I missed Nerd Nite... but I'm not sure that's a bad thing.


• 5 best places to break up in NYC. Good to know?


• Innovations abound in the condom industry. All the women I've shown this to are ecstatic. All the men are wary as hell.


• Random Mitch quote: (Picks up a drink on stage) Look at the all limes in this God Damn thing... this fuckin' thing is tropical. Look at the limes how they float. That's good news. Next time I'm on a boat and it capsizes, I will reach for a lime... I'll be water skiing without a life preserver and people will be like "What the fuck?" and I'll pull out a lime. I'm saved by the buoyancy of citrus!


• Window to the past: Seven minutes of Moscow in 1908.
  
• More Star Wars nerdity: painting of kid riding at AT-AT.


• Modern idiots pan classic novels on Amazon. Sigh.


• Remixes of the London underground maps


• Random Mitch quote: Alcoholism is a disease, but it's the only one you can get yelled at for having. "Goddamn it Otto, you are an alcoholic." "Goddamn it Otto, you have Lupus" One of those two doesn't sound right.


• Ebert on Marie Antoinette: "It is impossible to avoid thoughts of Diana, Princess of Wales..." Um, what?


• Do you know Alan Smithee? I bet you do.


• Poison dart frogs are losing their toxicity. That fucking sucks. I love those poisonous little buggers.


• Today in home porn: Scrabble pillows


• Ack! I got mentioned on kottke and Subtraction for stating (what I considered to be) the obvious.


• And finally, apparently you can buy an ugly ornament in tribute to poor drugged-out Mitch.