SeoulBrother

Black people are awesome.

Tue, 31 Jan 2012 14:15:06 -0800

Black people are awesome.

So glad it’s over. h/t While You Were Sleeping via...

Mon, 30 Jan 2012 10:53:31 -0800

So glad it’s over.

h/t While You Were Sleeping via TheShiznit.co.uk

Silent Ringtone

Tue, 24 Jan 2012 07:37:47 -0800

You guys read about that conductor who stopped his performance mid-symphony because someone (Patron X) didn’t turn off or silence their cell phone?

We’ve all been interrupted mid-event, mid-meeting or mid-sentence by our own “Eat something” Bell Tower or the “Cancel abortion appointment!!!!” Marimba. It’s embarrassing. Then I remembered a thing a friend made a few years back that solved this problem. It’s the Silent Ringtone.

It’s an aac file of digitally pure silence that works perfectly as a vibrate-only alarm. Unfortunately, it’s a minute long. Ringtones can only be 30 seconds long. They used to allow minute long ringtones in iTunes. Now it’s only 30 seconds max.

So here’s one that’s 11 seconds and works just like the extended mix used to.

Quiet.m4r

Add it to your iTunes library, sync your phone and set your alarms to use Quiet.

For more pure digital silence, check out the Silent Podcast.

futurejournalismproject: ofthewaves: Mmm, oxford commas Use...

Mon, 23 Jan 2012 21:21:31 -0800

futurejournalismproject:

ofthewaves:

Mmm, oxford commas

Use it, don’t abuse it.

More like “I had eggs, toast and a misunderstanding of how conjunctions work.”

Blackout Coffee superseventies: Pam Grier

Wed, 18 Jan 2012 08:21:00 -0800

Blackout Coffee

superseventies:

Pam Grier

Hot Buttered Blackout

Wed, 18 Jan 2012 08:19:39 -0800

Hot Buttered Blackout

nostrich: Gentlemen, I have started a blog. Famous last words, to be sure, but...

Fri, 13 Jan 2012 08:15:55 -0800

nostrich: Gentlemen, I have started a blog. Famous last words, to be sure, but...:

nostrich:

Gentlemen, I have started a blog. Famous last words, to be sure, but I’ve been thinking about and planning and working on this for a while, and I like what it’s ended up looking like. I will tell you all about it, but first some boring meandering in pursuit of a point.

Not just yes, but fuck yes. Longform journalism curated and contextualized by Nostrich.

mayli: America in Color from 1939-1943

Mon, 09 Jan 2012 14:44:02 -0800

mayli:

America in Color from 1939-1943

obitoftheday: Obit of the Day: Capturing Baltimore’s Sorrow On...

Thu, 05 Jan 2012 08:53:45 -0800

obitoftheday:

Obit of the Day: Capturing Baltimore’s Sorrow

On March 29, 1984 the owner of the Baltimore Colts, Bob Irsay, packed up the entire organization into Mayflower moving vans to drive one thousand miles west to Indianapolis. Lloyd Pearson, a Baltimore Sun, photographer who captured the ups and downs of Charm City’s history for twenty years, was there. His photograph, above, became the symbol of Baltimore having its heart ripped out by Irsay and the NFL.

Random note: Baltimore got a new team, the Ravens, in 1996. Ironically, the Ravens left Cleveland in the same way the Colts left Baltimore. I don’t think Baltimore fans felt too guilty. Cleveland got a new Browns franchise in 1999.

Pearson, who died at the age of 90, had dreams of becoming an animator. Before serving in the Navy in World War II, he worked on Walt Disney’s Pinocchio but not for very long because “he got tired of drawing raindrops.” He took up photography during the war and never turned back.

You can see more of Pearson’s work here.

(Image is copyright Lloyd Pearson/Baltimore Sun, but is courtesy, of course, of the Indianapolis Star.)

Batchin’ Manhattans (Taken with instagram)

Sat, 31 Dec 2011 16:58:08 -0800

Batchin’ Manhattans (Taken with instagram)

We’re staying in a classy place (Taken with instagram)

Sun, 25 Dec 2011 15:53:59 -0800

We’re staying in a classy place (Taken with instagram)

We deliver (Taken with instagram)

Sat, 24 Dec 2011 16:58:51 -0800

We deliver (Taken with instagram)

Singing Christmas carols at home. (From The Black Power Mixtape...

Sun, 18 Dec 2011 21:11:25 -0800

[Flash 10 is required to watch video.]

Singing Christmas carols at home.

(From The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975.)

Suburban Report

Sat, 17 Dec 2011 15:31:00 -0800

texburgher:

Jason stopped over with a bottle of gin. He had texted me, earlier in the week, to ask me if I wanted one while he was at the store, and I told him I did. But when he arrived today, he confused me by presenting it as a gift. I told him no, no, let me give you some money for it. Here, I said, I have enough money to pay you for the thing you got me at my own request. No way, he said, it’s a gift. I don’t want your money, he said, putting me in kind of an awkward situation if you want to know the truth. Come on, I said, taking the money from my wallet and trying to get him to take it. But he backed away from me, keeping the dining room table between us, and continued to refuse. He made me feel so ungracious. I finally accepted, and thanked him, and said at least let me make you a drink.

Okay that sounds good, he says, and oh take a look at my most recent tumblr post, he says, and laughs like a kid who just made his second joke ever.

Give ‘til it hurts, boys.

Christmas tree

Sun, 11 Dec 2011 15:17:24 -0800

Sweets: […] I would've sawed it off myself, but you won't let me touch the weapons!

Me: [beat] And that's why. They're not weapons. They're *tools*.

Goodbye, girl. Last Friday, 12/2/11, we had to put our Bella...

Sat, 10 Dec 2011 11:26:00 -0800

Goodbye, girl.

Last Friday, 12/2/11, we had to put our Bella down. She was 13 and a half. Four weeks ago, Doreen took her to the vet to get her ankle looked at. She’s always running around and digging up the back yard and we just figured that she tweaked it. She had bone cancer.

All we could do is make her feel comfortable. There wasn’t a procedure the vet could perform, no chemo, no nothing. Just pain management. And when the second round of drugs stopped working, well, that was just it.

- - -

Bella was such a character. A huge personality. So kind. So sweet. And it didn’t matter who you were, she was going to sniff your crotch. It was humbling— made you feel like you missed something— but in some ways, her crotch-sniffing was like an equalizer. She didn’t care who you were— a candidate for local office, a publisher, Internet famous— you got your crotch sniffed. It put everyone on an equal plane.

Then there were the farts. I found my Twitter voice through her farts.

At 2:14AM my dog’s farts gained self awareness. They’ve attacked relentlessly through the night. Sending Sweets back in time to save us all.

If you could smell my dog’s farts right now you would think she’s racist.

Bella the adorable greyhound just farted so evil Quiet Riot burst through the wall and took me on a tour of a 19th century British madhouse.

Oh, how we play, the dog and I. It wasn’t the paw to the nuts that said “I love you,” it was the deviled-egg laser fart she shot at my face.

These days it’s just me and my dog. Which makes what she just did the loneliest fart of all.

I found Twitter when Doreen went away to school. For three years we lived apart, her with her big ideas and me with the Bellaphant. It would’ve been so easy for me to slip into some kind of juvenile existence. Twitter provided a safe outlet for my immaturity. Bella’s health and well-being kept me responsible.

Bella returned the favor in kind. Sometimes— too many times, really— I’d work late into the evening completely unaware of the time. The house was dark and my eyes were stuck in focus to the exact distance between my head and the monitor. Bella would notice the pause in keystrokes or mouse clicks and slowly rise from her pad in my office. Her tags jangled as she’d two-step up into a downward facing dog, open her mouth, yawn, snort, lick her chops and walk over.

“You know what you need?” She’d say as she’d butt her head under my hand. “You need to scratch my ears and listen to me.”

I’d start scratching and her eyes would close slightly as she leaned into it.

“Mmmm. That’s nice. Keep going… Yesss. OK. Right. First we’re going to go downstairs and you’re going to let me out so I can go potty and patrol the perimeter. While I’m doing that, drink a glass of water and stretch your shoulders out. You really should take breaks.”

“Once the yard is secure, you and me are going on a walk. It’ll get your blood flowing and there’s that rock I need to pee on. Lots of activity going in the neighborhood lately— nothing you need to worry about— you just keep walking.”

And we’d go out into the night. She’d sniff around and herk ‘n’ jerk between message drops, new scents and her favorite spots. I’d keep walking and let the chilly night air slowly pull me out of my work-mind— when I’d start thinking for myself instead of the customer, the boss, or the number. I was lonely. I was letting myself go. I missed Doreen so much.

“Hey!” Bella would say, “Did you see that? I totally peed on top of that other dog’s pee. What an asshole!” She’d jog up, tongue lolling about.

“You cool? Yeah?” She’d ask, skipping ahead a bit, pausing briefly to shake like an athlete cooling down.

“Great. Let’s get back home and feed me.”

- - -

Greyhounds are beautiful creatures. Regal and calm. They’re very low maintenance, sleeping 18 hours a day. They prefer walking and will get out and run sometimes. You have to remember that, for the most part, many of them are retired athletes.

Track life is hard. They’re trained from youth to race, often kenneled and rarely socialized like normal dogs. They’re retired between three and five years old, when they’re no longer competitive. We were lucky. Bella was a runt— a full head shorter than most greyhounds.

A friend of ours spotted her at a greyhound adoption event in Portland. She was cocky, stout, her ears didn’t lay flat like most greyhounds, she walked like street tuff, and she was young. Eighteen months. He couldn’t keep her because the condo he lived in changed pet ownership rules and asked if we could put her up until he found a new place. He never did.

She remained a confident, goofy 18-month old puppy. Bella was afraid of heights, so she never jumped up on the couch. It’s a good thing because I don’t think I could’ve survived if her farts were any closer. She loved a Brooklyn accent for whatever reason. And most of all, she loved the ladies. And Moltz. (Which makes sense.)

After the news of her cancer, after the questions and the crying, Doreen and I vowed to spoil the shit out of her. We introduced her to Thai, Greek, and Chinese food. Doreen made meatballs for her and fed her boiled eggs. I’d slip her bacon and grease and we discovered that she enjoyed whiskey.

- - -

Her last day, I took her on a walk. She was slow and limping but in such high spirits. She loved her walks. At the park — the half way point— she skipped up, tongue lolling about and breathing heavy. The cancer was in her lungs and she was tired.

“You cool? Yeah?” She asked, hobbling ahead a bit, pausing briefly to shake like an athlete cooling down.

“Great. Let’s get back home and feed me.”

Beware of Party Animals (Taken with instagram)

Fri, 09 Dec 2011 18:19:33 -0800

Beware of Party Animals (Taken with instagram)

You know the tumblr spammers…

Thu, 08 Dec 2011 00:45:00 -0800

… with their default avatars that throw a like at some old ass post of yours only to have a link back to their blogspotty bullshit site? That’s SEO.

Now that’s a headline. From PLU’s student paper, The...

Sat, 03 Dec 2011 15:12:00 -0800

Now that’s a headline. From PLU’s student paper, The Mooring Mast.

Asshat of the Week: Jack Womack

Wed, 30 Nov 2011 12:50:21 -0800

Asshat of the Week: Jack Womack:

journo-geekery:

“We also spent a great deal of time analyzing how we utilize and deploy photojournalists across all of our locations in the U.S. […] We looked at the impact of user-generated content and social media, CNN iReporters and of course our affiliate contributions in breaking news. Consumer and pro-sumer technologies are simpler and more accessible. Small cameras are now high broadcast quality. More of this technology is inthe hands of more people. After completing this analysis, CNN determined that some photojournalists will be departing the company.”

—
Jack Womack, CNN’s SVP of domestic news operations, in a memo to staff announcing 50 layoffs at the news organization. Among those fired were about a dozen photographers.

Womack suggests that User Generated Content via iReport, and improving cameras used to capture images, made the photojournalists obsolete.

(via futurejournalismproject)

It’s always been obvious that CNN is more a News-as-Entertainment enterprise that an actual news outlet. If the people running CNN, specifically Jack Womac, SVP News Operations, doesn’t understand the practice of journalism, how the hell can we expect them to understand the function of journalism? Full memo.