Heaping tablespoons of linky goodness:
- Personas: How Does The Internet See You? (MIT)
- Symbolism and the $1 Bill (Mental Floss)
- Epic fail: NFL punt hits jumbotron! (Yahoo)
- Haarp: Fiddling With The Ionosphere (Wired)
- An Oldie But Goodie: Koblin’s Sheep Market (link)
- Does Language Shape What We Think? (SciAm)
- On sustainability, consumerism, and food (Time)
The Crash In 153 Syllables
Now that our little macroeconomic bobble is like, so totally “over,” I’d like to memorialize it with a grid of nine haiku (in non-rhyming 5-7-5 format):
fat cash for lemon Chrysler
Hyundai here I come
|Goldman Sachs trader
once mastered the universe
hung by toenails soon
to refrigerator box
or parents’ basement?
food cigarettes guns ammo
not a wingnut see?
|traffic seems lighter
booze and Judge Judy
root canal for “favors,” please!?
do it like that unghh
|goddamned repo man
fed dog and took my plasma
smarter than I thought
|line worker sobbing
fine Bangladeshi craftsmen
sewed hems of his pants
|last storefront emptied
past midnight sneaking landlord
gas can in his hands
Print these out, store them somewhere safe, and show them to your grandchildren, as evidence of the trevails that you endured back in ’09!
Tomorrow, my family unit embarks upon its annual journey to the wild lands of northeastern California, where we’ll spend seven days in the woods. Our camp is truly in the middle of nowhere - on the shores of a lake in a remote corner of a rural county that encompasses a grand total of two (2) stop lights in its entirety.
Where it's at!
There, we’ll awaken to the honks of geese floating through the fog. Frolic lakeside in our skivvies. Whittle. Bake our extremities in the sun. Skip stones. Canoe. Use crude implements to prepare dinner, and with indescribable pleasure, vanquish a day’s hunger. Spark twig-and-log teepees. Roast marshmallows. Poke at campfire coals. Stroll under starlight to water’s edge. Gawk alternately at Milky Way and Perseid streaks. And finally, bathed in the crisp silence of mountain air, give ourselves back to glorious slumber.
But, most importantly, we shall wash away years of accumulated shame - finally hooking one of the wise and elusive inhabitants of the nearby loch. For if we do not, Four-Fingered Jack and his Discount Online Fishin’ School will be receiving a most strongly-worded correspondence. Of that, I can most undoubtedly assure you.
This is gonna be good.