Explosions in the Sky
I picked up some new headphones at Best Buy yesterday because my old crummy ipod headphones just weren’t cutting it anymore. I forgot music could sound this good. Sony, thank you.
Currently listening to: Explosions in the Sky
January 2011
98 posts
You can't make this stuff up. →
fashionista.com
Lady Gaga’s new perfume will smell like “semen and blood”. Why not throw vomit in there for good measure? Or, better yet, just let a hobo piss in the bottle.
I know she’s trying to be edgy and shocking and all (and you have to do some pretty crazy stuff to get noticed when dressing up in a raw meat dress is your standard), but she’s taking it a little too far. No one actually wants to smell like bodily fluids (hence the invention of soap), so quit your crazy talk and go cuddle up to Alejandro.
SAG bag
Best dressed was, hands down, Leah Michelle in Oscar de la Renta:
Close second goes to Mila Kunis in Alexander McQueen (the train is probably the best part, and it’s cropped out here but trust me, it ruled):
In Vitro Meat
“In vitro meat, also known as cultured meat, is an animal flesh product that has never been part of a complete, living animal. Several current research projects are growing in vitro meat experimentally, although no meat has yet been produced for public consumption. The first-generation products will most likely be minced meat, and a long-term goal is to grow fully developed muscle tissue. Potentially, any animal’s muscle tissue could be grown through the in vitro process.” (Link here)
I’m still not sure how I feel about this. Even though no animals are harmed in the process, something about it still bothers me and I can’t put my finger on it. I’m all for GMO vegetables/legumes, but something is really weirding me out about cultured muscle tissue. I don’t think I’d be comfortable eating this…
Exit Through the Gift Shop
I just caught the Oscar-nominated documentary “Exit Through the Gift Shop” (now available for free to watch on Hulu (Bless you, Hulu.)).
It documents the experiences of a French filmmaker-cum-street artist named Thierry. Thierry follows famous street artists with his video camera for years, collecting millions of hours of video (which he later never watches). His devotion to the street art movement leads him to begin doing his own artwork. By the end of the film, Thierry is making millions selling his artwork at Los Angeles galleries. Other famous street artists criticize Thierry because none of his content is his own; he scans/copies/photoshops other published works and adds his own touch (e.g. spray painting an eyepatch on a face or swapping out props with photoshop).
It becomes clear by the end of the documentary that Thierry is someone crazy and he doesn’t even really understand what any of his pieces represent. He falls into his fame, capitalizing on the success of others to make millions.
The first hour (of 1.5h) tells the story of Thierry following around real street artists. The end of the film is where it really all comes together. I didn’t enjoy the first hour of the movie at all. While I understand that it was necessary to tell that part of the story in order to make the second part meaningful, it lacks cohesion and flow. Characters jump in and out and scenes are disconnected from one another. As someone who has a hard time sitting through movies to begin with, this scattered and yet oddly repetitive hour seemed almost painful. The end of the documentary was fresh, funny, connected. It had flow and just, well…worked.
4/10 stars.
100
My goal when I started by blog was to have 100 posts by the end of 2011. How about 100 posts by the end of January 2011? Done.
I’ve really enjoyed sharing funny links, pretty pictures, intriguing articles, and whatever else makes its way on here.
Thanks for reading, folks.
I see this in my future. →
dianaeng.com
Adorable and upcycled.
The plot escapes me. →
nytimes.com
It’s relieving to know that I am not alone in my forgetfulness. I often read books and recall liking them, being inspired by them, wanting to wrap myself up inside of their mealy little pages and folds and lay there forever. However, after weeks, months, years, I often find that, while I recall these feelings quite vividly I cannot for the life of me recall the plot. My boyfriend, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. When I recently brought up a book that he had read many years ago, he recalled “Oh, that’s the one where the main character’s name is Ignacious Reilly.” How this tidbit managed to elbow its way into the crevices of his memory evades me. Perhaps the reason behind this is mindful reading. It’s not that I believe that I’m particularly distracted in my reading, but there are times while I’m reading that I’ll find that I simply have no idea what happened for the last several pages. I’m imaging that my boyfriend (and all you other memory-hoarders) is not like this. I wonder how you change that?
Bubble of Wisdom
Message on the inside of my bubble gum pack today:
“Try explaining the taste of bubble gum to someone who has never tasted it.”
Hard, huh?
When I was in the forth grade, I took an art class where the teacher asked us to “try to explain the concept of light and dark to a blind man.” I was stumped. To this day, I still don’t think I could do it. We learn about new ideas by comparison to old ones. How do you process something that’s completely novel?
Puppy Bowl VII →
animal.discovery.com
Have you picked your fantasy team yet?
URGENT: State of the Internet →
theoatmeal.com
All users will read this together in solidarity.
Cheerio
Nothing in the whole wide world feels as good as laying out on the beach with the sun beating down on you, a hot breeze whipping through palm trees, the smell of coconut-scented suntan lotion in the air (except, maybe, for this). This is why I’ve always preferred tropical vacations. Put me on a plane headed South and I will be one happy chica.
However, I just saw this article pop up on the New York Times travel page and it seems like such a fun, quaint vacation spot. I don’t think I could spend weeks there, but taking a few days to hole up in a cozy coffee shop abutting a castle in always-rainy England with a good book (or 3) and afternoon tea and scones sounds simply divine.
Hug it out.
Today is National Hug Day and, while I don’t normally embrace (pun absolutely intended) faux-holidays, I could go for a good hug.
The more I see, the less I know for sure.
I stumbled across this article while looking up conspecific mate specificity for a paper I’m reading. This group found that chronic metal ingestion (Cd or Hg) in prairie voles produced a similar phenotype as autism.
At first I was surprised to read about any animal models of autism at all. As a disease centered around socialization, I find it hard to believe that nonsocial or semisocial animals (such as mice or fruitflies) could recapitulate a social phenotype. I did a little more research to look into animal models of autism and it turns out that, well, there aren’t any good ones. Also, most of the animal models are genetically-based, as opposed to the popularly-held belief that Autism has environmental causes. I find voles a more legitimate model because of their highly social behavior.
Bottom line: don’t drink thermometers.
If someone ever offers you a Cocker Spaniel, you should take the Spaniel.
It Takes More Than That to Kill a Bull Moose
On October 14, 1912, Teddy Roosevelt was shot in the chest in an assassination attempt by John Schrank before he was about to give an address.
He continued with his speech, prefacing it with the following:
“Friends, I shall ask you to be as quiet as possible. I don’t know whether you fully understand that I have just been shot; but it takes more than that to kill a Bull Moose. But fortunately I had my manuscript, so you see I was going to make a long speech, and there is a bullet - there is where the bullet went through - and it probably saved me from it going into my heart. The bullet is in me now, so that I cannot make a very long speech, but I will try my best.”
TR was a bad ass.
What Are You Going to Do With That? →
chronicle.com
While this article is a tad overdone and indulgent in it’s validictorian-esque mantra about living your life passionatly and not floating the mainstream, some good points are made. I especially like this part:
“At that Harvard event two years ago, one person said, about my assertion that college students needed to keep rethinking the decisions they’ve made about their lives, “We already made our decisions, back in middle school, when we decided to be the kind of high achievers who get into Harvard.” And I thought, who wants to live with the decisions that they made when they were 12? Let me put that another way. Who wants to let a 12-year-old decide what they’re going to do for the rest of their lives? Or a 19-year-old, for that matter? All you can decide is what you think now, and you need to be prepared to keep making revisions.”
I like the part about being prepared to make revisions. It’s a nice reminder that our course is not pre-defined and is subject to change as you do.
Running free
I’ve struggled deciding how much I want to reveal about my personal life on my blog. So far, I’ve posted a lot of pictures and links with some insight into my thoughts behind them, but very little about my personal life. I think I’ve been worried about judgment or creepers, but I’ve decided to brush that off and embrace the “personal-ness” of my blog.
With that said, I’ve been super anxious/stressed/uptight lately. My feelings cause me to make mountains out of molehills (I honestly believed today that the squeaking noise that our centrifuge makes while stopping was the worst noise that could possibly exist) and generally feel bothered. Someone suggested to me that I should start running again to boost my endorphins and get out all this nervous energy. I had my first run tonight and it feels wonderful. No really. My head feels clear. I feel peaceful and relaxed. I typically come home, flip on the TV, start making dinner, talk on the phone, do 1000 things at one time. Right now, my apartment is quiet, I have one small light on and I’m relaxing with my cat sleeping on my feet. It’s really amazing what a good run can do for you. I’m planning on hitting the gym three-four times a week from here on out. I’ve never been so excited about working out.
Move Over "Venti", "Trenta" is in town →
news.yahoo.com
Starbucks is now launching an even bigger sized cup— the “Trenta”. This 31oz monstrosity will replace the already huge 24oz “Venti”. I’m not saying that Starbucks shouldn’t do this from a business standpoint- they have every right to make as much money as possible. What bothers me is that so many people choose to buy these sugar-laden drinks that Starbucks can justify selling them in the first place. Americans health is going downhill fast (1/3 people will be diabetic by 2050), and I can’t help but think that cheap, empty calories from drinks like this are partially to blame. Get it together, people.
Animals in utero →
thisblogrules.com
I realize that I’ve been posting a bolus of animal pictures. This is the end, I promise. For now.
Allergy
The NYTimes recently published this article talking about how people often think they have food allergies when, in reality, there may simply be a food intolerance or something else altogether. Interestingly, they noted that “in challenges where a suspect food is compared with a placebo and neither doctor nor patient knows which food is which, only about a third of the foods have been found to cause allergies, the panel reported.”
Only 1/3 of food allergies that people think they have actually turn out to be real. That’s amazing. It makes me want to challenge my strawberry allergy. I first thought I had the allergy when I was about 13 and broke out in hives twice after drinking Nestle Strawberry Milk and then again after having a strawberry ice box pie. Since then, I’ve had some bad flair-ups of hives after eating fruit salad with strawberries. I wonder…
