You’re my average friend (on Facebook, at least). You like music above all, with a slight fondness for writing, technology and poker. You went to Oxford, where you did English and Law, you’re liberal, and your first name is James (it would be James, Ben, Martin, Mark or Adam but only James is the average
That is is so sweet. I need to get me some resin to turn all my USB sticks into needlessly heavy stones. Powered by ScribeFire.
http://www.collegehumor.com/moogaloop/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1772009 Via Rossignol. I like the way you can automatically erase people from pictures. Imagine if we’d had this in the 30s and 40s, Stalin could have liquidated all those photo-erasing types with ease. Instant image manipulation is ripe for – imagine if this were in-camera and you could just point to the bit you
Philip Oltermann confers with some great brains about their guilty pleasures | Weekend | Guardian Unlimited Although I argue vehemently against modern pop music, on grounds of its musical incompetence, verbal impoverishment and general morbidity, narcissism and salaciousness; although I fiercely object to disco dancing as a sacrilege against the human form and a collective
I appear to have been banned from posting comments on the Newsnight pages – though I’ve never posted one before AFAIK! Very odd. It just tells me “Your comment has not been allowed” which isn’t very helpful at all. Ho-hum. Well, i’ll just post it here then. “The BBC’s already lost the young generation –
.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; } experiment 029, originally uploaded by Hot Grill. Possibly the most disturbing shot I’ve ever taken.
http://youtube.com/v/Vt_tv7t79WY Oh, my. That’s supremely tasteless and slightly funny. I apologise for saying this, but I may have to see another Uwe Bolle movie.
Kieron points to Tony Wilson’s death. And then blathers on about context and contextualisation like he’s swallered a sociolinguistics handbook, as is his wont. The weird thing is, he was someone I grew up with, on the peripherary of my childhood. He was a friend of my parents when I was a kid (they said
My pound of flesh is sizzling away on the hob, producing murderous juices, and on the radio I’m happy to hear my supply of tasty corpses is being maintained. Yes, the Foot & Mouth quarantine has been lifted (a bit prematurely in my case, as my mouth is still foul and my feet are no
There’s a man stood behind me in the queue verbally abusing his wife. (What the fuck am I doing at Morrissons anyway?) I glance back. They’re both in their sixties, broken-down. He’s got a thicket of white hair, and looks he shaved with a lump of broken glass, she’s got a sadsack face that’s sucked