This blog covers everything except sports and gardening, unless we find a really good link about using dead professional bowlers for mulch. The author is a StarTribune columnist, has been passing off fiction and hyperbole as insight since 1997, has run his own website since the Jurassic era of AOL, and was online when today’s college sophomores were a year away from being born. So get off his lawn.
Thunder peals, the sky flashes like an Instamatic bulb, the rain pelts down: it’s been a while. Made you realize how much of summer lacked the standard drama. I could take another week of this - the humid morning, the worried wind, the grumbling sky. We’re owed a warm fall.
HEIL-YA! Time is hard on film; it desaturates, loses focus, and turns into a mushy wash that makes it hard to comprehend the power and horror of Starfish Hitler.
Do I need to say this is from Japan? No.
Via Dangerous Minds, which has much more on the show and the subsequent phenomenon of Starfish Hitler.
OH FINE THEN A newspaper in England has secured an interview with the Northampton Clown.
People across the world have been gripped by the story of the clown since pictures emerged online of him standing in various locations around the town, looking similar to the Pennywise character from the cult Stephen King film, It.
In an exclusive interview with the Northampton Chronicle & Echo, the Clown said he could understand why people had been “extremely frightened” by him but he insisted his exploits were intended in good humour.
At least advertisers don't think clowns are good for selling things anymore. Once upon a time the magazines were full of them. Here, this'll sell pickles:
Yikes. More of those here, if you're brave. (Disclosure: that's my site.)
ARCHITECTURE The WSJ has a piece on the 40th anniversary of a skyscraper in Paris everyone has hated for the entirety of its existence. I remember visiting it in high school, and thought the tower was cool enough - it's like the IDS, except it's pinched in on the sides instead of flaring out - but the shopping area around it was a charmless concrete bunker that summed up every anti-human Brutalist idea about how people should live. (Hint: with their heads on their chins, contemplating the futility of hope.)
There are plans to spiff it up, but like City Center, it's all ribbons-on-a-pig.
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