Yesterday I learned that an alternate name for a tallboy is a “pounder.” Which as far as I’m concerned is a brilliant (and rare) single-word double entendres.
My first interpretation was that a sixteen-ounce can of beer is an ideal format for “pounding,” or sport drinking. But it is a sixteen-ounce can.
A pounder weighs a pound!
Any Wire fan who looked at extrapolated art should consider themselves fortunate that David Simon became invested in the process of transferring the series to high-definition video. By considering the possibility of a strictly algorithm-based expansion of the frame and contrasting that to Simon’s shot-by-shot observations, it becomes clear that in art, the space beyond the edges of the frame can never really be determined by the contents of the frame.
Fittingly, both links come from the literally inimitable Kottke: Slate’s Robottke experiment and the insight that “In computer science parlance, Kottke doesn’t scale” is particularly relevant.
Also related: “Be Right Back,” the first episode of the second series of Black Mirror.
They discussed Twinkies
and online encryption on
their very first date.
Panels and lectures
at the Democracy Lab
on “Hello Kitty.”
Picture by Julie
Totally into the Will Letter for Lunch ethos: “Whatever you want me to write is exactly what you’ll pay.”
It’s a good way to get I’d-never-eat-at-a-restaurant-with-a-menu-set-in-Comic-Sans types like me in the door, for one. For another, I happily support the application of hand-lettering in daily life.
While her work is not stylistically in my zone, I’m especially fond of the layout of “East Coast Oysters” she did for Docklands.
Last night, we attended a talk with Marjane Satrapi at NYPL Live. She said that when she was in San Francisco, she told a dirty joke that shifted into focus the American sense of humor. It went something like this:
A man looks in the mirror and sees he has a button on his forehead. Every day, the button gets longer and longer until finally he sees a doctor. He says to the doctor:
“What’s growing on my forehead?”
“It’s a penis.”
“Is there anything I can do about it?”
“Don’t worry about it. Soon enough, the balls will cover your eyes.”
I learned: she’s got a new film coming out about a serial killer and his cat, has made some beautiful paintings, and seen Seven Samurai at least 400 times.
She also made me feel I should read some Dostoyevsky.
we learn what is important
Christina and I watched this video about how David Fincher shoots his movies:
And so we got to talking and we looked up who edited Seven – Richard Francis-Bruce – and realized that he immediately followed that up with The Rock.
Which means that Richard Francis-Bruce’s editing bay went straight from a Fincher sampler to shots that all look like these:
What cognitive dissonance that must have been.
It boggles my mind that the official title of Seven in IMDB is “Se7en.” If you’re searching IMDB for “Seven,” you will not see a link to the movie Seven in the autosuggest features. Also, it implies the title is pronounced se-seven-en.
Watched Trance last night. While I can assail the film on many fronts (failing Bechdel, male gaze issues, teal and orange palette, overall incomprehensible plot), it’s the first one that made me wish there were better representations of art historians in cinema.
Adding lobster claws
to birds does not make me a
Inspired by Nikkitha