Mar 272010
 

Okay, maybe this is a crazy idea, but hear me out. I was reading a lot of stuff about Earth Hour, and all the symbolic landmarks that turned off their exterior floodlights to mark the occasion.

But all the pictures show SO many lights, still on.

So why don’t we, next year, just cut off the power? I say let’s flip the big switch at the power company, and turn off all the lights off. Yup, I include streetlights, hospitals, jails.

Look, it sounds crazy, I know. But power outages happen all the time. Sure, they happen a little here, a little there. But why not do it globally? People survive when the power goes out, especially in a mild month like March.

Mission-critical places like hospitals and jails have contingency plans to deal with power outages — this would enable them to test those plans. Like a fire drill.

With awareness and publicity, people would know that it was coming, and issues like traffic jams could be minimized. And frankly, it’s only an hour.

Thoughts?

Mar 272010
 

The other day, casting about for something to read, Amy picked up “The Man In The High Castle” from my bookshelf. As she started getting into it, I grabbed a copy of “Flow My Tears The Policeman Said” and for a few days, we were both engrossed in (very different) Philip K. Dick worlds.

I was really impressed with “Flow My Tears”, which I hadn’t read for a long, long time and didn’t remember very well. And now I’m looking forward to rereading “The Man In The High Castle.”

But in one of those serendipitous ways that life just treats you right, sometimes, I first came across something else.

Philip K. Dick died 28 years ago this month (March 2, 1982) and the L.A. Times points me to a six-part series that explores Dick’s last years, in Orange County.

I’ve just started reading it, but it’s really good.

Find all six parts here.

Mar 272010
 

Perhaps because I am too young and too North American, I had never seen this 1937 photo before.

It’s famed, however, as “Toffs and Toughs” and it came to epitomize the class divide in England. The two very-well-dressed boys are in formalwear, attending a cricket match that was a social outing from their school. The three others were hanging around, hoping to make a shilling or two from unloading rich peoples’ cars.

I learned all this — and more — from reading a very interesting feature in Intelligent Life magazine. The writer tracks down (as much as he is able) the five boys, and teases out hints of what their class divide might have meant for them.

Almost more interesting, though, is how the photograph itself has come to define them, more so even than the class divide it was supposed to represent:

All three men had reached old age and a plateau of contentment. But Catlin hadn’t maintained contact with Salmon and Young. His wife said that when a newspaper (perhaps the Daily Mail) had asked the three men to get together to reconstruct the picture at Lord’s, or at least their part in it, Jack had refused. I could see why. To be stereotyped as a poor London boy – a tough even – may have irritated a man who had made good and probably felt no nostalgia for the pre-war streets of his childhood.

It’s a good read, and the author makes an interesting point near the end about how, if the picture were recreated today, both the “rich” and the “poor” would probably be wearing similar name-brand jeans. But they’d still have wildly differing access to education, to society, and to opportunities.

Plus ca change…

Mar 262010
 

If you browse on over to Nerd Boyfriend, you’ll find Roxana Altamirano posting some classic style pictures and then trolling online shopping sites to give you the same look, but today.

Here’s a video from Slate that shows her getting an Errol Flynn look for her friend Justin:

What I really like about it is that it’s male-focused. Although would like to dress well — well, better than I do — I’m continually put off by either sky-high prices in male clothing stores, or the fact that more affordable stores have one corner of a closet devoted to menswear. I can look through all the clothes, belts and accessories, and Amy’s still not through the short-sleeved blouse section.

Finally, on the Internet, my inner metrosexual can find expression and affordability!

Mar 262010
 

Warren Ellis posts a trailer for a movie called Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, in which Michael Cera has to not only live up to all of his new girlfriend’s exes, but in metaphor-becomes-real sense, actually defeat them in combat.

Oh, and it’s comic-book style, so the exes appear to have powers and stuff. They’re villains. Check it:

Mar 262010
 

The League of Moveable Type showcases open-source typefaces. They hand-pick ‘em and sometimes they even design ‘em. There are some really sweet fonts over there, and although it’s not a huge collection, even single one of them looks professional (often, not something you get when browsing “free” font repositories).

According to their manifesto, they’re not trying to wreck the business model of type foundries or designers, instead they’re just trying to encourage people to give back to the community. Like when lawyers do pro bono work.

As someone who has pirated a ton of software, but now prefers to either pay or to use an open-source solution, I like the idea of typography joining this world.

Thanks, League of Moveable Type. I will feature some of your typefaces in my future work.

Mar 262010
 

Dan Martin has an ambitious goal — the world’s longest triathlon. In fact, it’s about the longest triathlon possible in this world. Think an Iron Man is an accomplishment? Check out the course that Martin has planned:

Start: May 8, in Nova Scotia. He’ll wade into the Atlantic and start swimming. All the way across. To Britain.

From Britain, he’ll hop on a bike and start cycling. Across Europe. And then Asia. Through a Siberian winter.

After crossing the Bering Strait (I don’t think he’s swimming it, but I won’t rule it out) he’s going to ditch the bike and lace up some runners. For a very long run. From Alaska all the way down to New York City.

Which he plans to reach somewhere around the end of 2011.

Wow. According to The Guardian, Martin has been intentionally putting on weight, so that he looks, well, chubby:

“At 6ft 5in and 22 stone [about 310 pounds] I’m not your average athlete,” he said. “It’s something I’ve consciously done. I need to gain weight for the cold, to get as much stuff between my internal organs and the ocean that’s trying to kill me. I think I’ll need 7,000-9,000 calories to sustain me each day and odds are that isn’t going to happen every day at sea. So it’s a calorie reserve and it helps with the buoyancy. The benefits of being chubby far outweigh the downsides for the swimming leg.” …

“The plan is to lose about a stone and a half every month for the first 10 months through the swim and the cycle so that I’m down to about 12-and-a-half stone [175 pounds] for the run.”

He’s previously cycled from South Korea all the way to South Africa, so he has some experience in long-distance, extreme style sports, but on his blog, he notes that spending all that time on the bike doesn’t leave you in great condition, necessarily:

When I finished my last bike ride in Cape Town in 2008 my back and shoulders were ruined from 14months and 22000miles of pedalling, my legs were unbalanced and completely unflexible and I had tiny wasted upper body and core muscles. I couldn’t swim more than 400metres in one go and my swimming technique could best be described as sloppy.

The £200,000 that the trip will cost is apparently being covered by corporate sponsors, but he’s accepting donations, which will all go towards his foundation, to help educated underprivileged children.

Mar 252010
 

Along with cheddar, mozzarella is probably one of the most widely eaten cheeses in North America, if not the world. It’s found in almost everything. Partly, that’s because it is such a mild, pleasant cheese that nearly everyone likes it. But mozzarella also has a wonderful set of qualities that make it useful in loads of cooking situations: It’s firm enough to hold its shape and to cut or to grate; It’s stringy and can be pulled apart; And it’s a great melter, if you want to put it on, oh, I dunno — pizza.

But for this week’s Cheese of the Week, we didn’t just want to pick up some random grocery store cheap mozza. Instead, we were struck by the care and apparent authenticity of this cheese, which was billed as “natural cheese in its own milk.”

Peeling back the packaging revealed a wet-coated cheese that, indeed, spelled fresh. I mean that in a good way. It had a bright, milk-like smell, if you could say it had a smell at all. There wasn’t really all that much whey in the package, just enough to keep the cheese moist, and it wasn’t at all slimy.

Fresh mozzarella, combined with the fresh spring air outside, and the fact that we had some delicious tomatoes that needed to be used up, made our next step obvious: caprese salad. One of the simplest recipes we know, a caprese salad is simply cut-up mozzarella slices alternated on a plate with tomato slices and drizzled with balsamic vinegar. We also like to add a little salt and pepper, some basil, and a little olive oil to the dressing.

Cutting the mozzarella was actually more difficult than I had expected, even with an ultra-sharp, nearly brand-new knife. This cheese was firm and spongy, and it required a fair bit of force to cut through the striations that are natural to mozzarella.

A few snacks along the way worried us that this mozzarella was maybe a little too mild, too fresh — it verged on flavourless. It was too much skim milk, not enough cream, I commented. Amy said she preferred saltier mozza (but Amy prefers everything with additional salt).

It sure was a good-looking cheese, though — quite white, but with enough colour to it that it didn’t look washed-out or bleached. Paired with bright red tomatoes, drizzled with oil and balsamic, then spiced, it looked amazing.

I picked up one of the pieces to see how it stood, on its own. You could peel it apart, almost like one of those “Cheese Heads” string cheese sticks, if you picked at it enough, but biting into it, it had a classic mozzarella give — almost like a very firm gelatin — before your teeth cut through.

Although very, very, very mild, this cheese actually worked really well when paired with a fresh tomato and a ton of spices, plus vinegar. I had worried that the sharp vinegar, the salt and the very tomato-y tomato that we had might overwhelm this poor cheese, but it’s almost as if the humble mozzarella craved a little bit of competition.

The salt and the balsamic really brought out the natural mozzarella flavour, and we found that this cheese was an excellent neutral base on which to accentuate the rest of the ingredients.

Yum! Delicious! This salad did not last long.

If we had had to try this mozzarella on its own, perhaps with soda crackers, we probably would have been disappointed. If we had bought this mozzarella to shred it for pizza, or to melt it on toast, we probably wouldn’t have cared much for it.

This fresh, still-in-its-own-milk mozzarella deserves something a little sprightlier. It deserves something like a caprese salad. And there, it shines.

The greatest hair in darts?

 Posted by on 25 March 2010  Modern Life
Mar 252010
 

So I was at the gym earlier today, and they have TVs on the treadmills, but the TV on my treadmill had a very limited set of non-static channels, so I ended up watching professional darts.

I think darts is kind of where bowling was, maybe a decade ago, except crossed with poker. There are some big-money tournaments, and some large crowds, but the crowd I was watching seemed dominated by trashy-looking girls with gigantic plastic cups of beer.

And the darts players looked like they had stepped out of stereotypical central casting. Burly men with tattoos and greasy slicked-back hair dominated, and the open-chested bowling shirt seemed like it was a uniform.

Then, there was this guy: Simon Whitlock. His hair was so astonishing that I actually called Amy over from the stretching room to see it.

An Aussie, apparently Whitlock is a bit of a darts superstar. Here’s a video that recaps a recent, epic championship battle between him and Phil Taylor. Whitlock lost, but check out the hair (he’s the guy in the black and yellow):

See what I mean?

No disrespect intended, but it’s like darts is this sub-culture that is developing an odd fashion sense completely removed from the rest of the world.

Mar 252010
 

The New York Times has a regular feature called The Frugal Traveller, in which writer Matt Gross jet-sets around the world, trying to be a tourist on a very limited budget, and writing back with his tips and tricks for help other in achieving the same savings.

He doesn’t flaunt his New York Times credentials, as far as I know, but he does attract a huge following, so when he says, for example, that he’s looking for a couch to surf in some far-flung location, he often gets volunteers helping him out in a way that can’t be replicated.

His latest, though, is designed to be replicated, and if it’s good enough to run in the New York Times, I think it’s a great feature that other newspapers should emulate. It’s a column devoted to finding places where you can drink for free. And I’m not talking about free waters, neither.

No, he starts with wine:

[I]f you can find a cluster of wine shops, you can hop from tasting to tasting, so that all those little sips of syrah and viognier eventually add up to something like a buzz.

But quickly moves up to harder stuff:

[A] bit deeper into the store, I found the prize: a tasting of Scotch whiskey organized by Compass Box, a company that eschews single-malt fetishism in favor of creating unique flavors from multiple whiskeys. The chatty host talked long and entertainingly about the woods used in whiskey barrels, then presented us with sips of the light Asyla (“Couple of ice cubes. Sunny day. Washington Square Park. Paper bag,” he recommended), the butterscotchy Spice Tree and, my favorite for years, the Peat Monster, which tastes a bit like arson, in a good way.

Read the whole thing here — it’s informative, but most of the information is pretty straightforward. It turns out that there are basically two kinds of places giving out free drinks: liquor vendors trying to drum up interest in a product; or art galleries and other artistic endeavours, having an opening.

That last actually ended up being fulfilling, he said:

Most of the time, people go to art galleries only superficially for the art — really, they want free drinks and to see their friends. But by making free drinks the primary purpose of my visit, I had nothing to hide, and could actually enjoy the show for what it was.

Mar 252010
 

We all know and love Bill Murray. He has just been so delightfully odd his entire career, and he’s one of the only actors I can think of who is revered for both his comedies (Ghostbusters, Caddyshack)  and his dramatic turns (Lost in Translation, Rushmore).

But there’s maybe another side of Bill Murray, that in only Bill Murray fashion, sounds totally crazy yet completely in character: he’s a NYC scenester.

A story in the NYPost (from December 2008 however. I didn’t see any newer stories) recounts how Murray showed up randomly at a Halloween party, had some beers, a couple conversations, danced a little, and then left.

But it wasn’t so random:

But the weirdest part of the experience is not that Bill showed up at some random ragtag Halloween party, but that it’s only one of several out-of-place encounters New York City hipsters have had with the actor in the past few months. From hanging out with rock bands to hitting on twentysomething women at bars, Bill seems to be going through his own unique midlife crisis. He’s not a boozy, sweaty party hound who gets caught on camera cheesing it up with pretty young girls (see: Mel Gibson, Bono); rather, he’s more like a ghost in the night, who shows up out of nowhere, engages in utterly random conversations and then exits gracefully—leaving witnesses to wonder what the hell just happened. Deadpan, detached and seeming a bit lonely, Bill Murray is NYC’s most unlikely new party guy.

The writer continues to suggest that Murray’s appearance at various parties was maybe due to some mid-life crisis (he and his wife had recently divorced) and that his life had started to resemble that of the character he played in Lost in Translation. To me, it just seems like something that Murray would do. The same thing that led him to play himself, hilariously, in Zombieland.

He’s screwing with us all.

UPDATE!

Nothing has changed. This week, at SXSW:

Mar 242010
 

Based on a throwaway comment by Grant earlier today, I was reminded about a post I’ve been meaning to make about Robert McGinnis.  Even if you are unfamiliar with this American artist’s name, you are more than likely familiar with his work.

If you have ever seen one of those old painted movie posters for a James Bond movie, with Bond holding his gun in that famous pose of his, you’ve likely seen McGinnis’ work.  He originated that pose.  Not only did he work on the posters for Thunderball and You Only Live Twice with a partner, he was solo artist for Bond on the posters for Diamonds Are Forever, Live And Let Die, and The Man With The Golden Gun.

On the other hand, if you are more of a bibliophile, you are more probably familiar with his work on paperback covers.  He did what was possibly hundreds of them.  While some were the typical romance novel covers, he seemed to have the most fun on those that involved a tough guy, a gun and a woman (who tends to be partial naked, preparing to get naked or completely naked).  These are the covers for pulp detective novels that are so much fun.

Here’s a link to a Flickr gallery of his work, but be warned that some of the images are NSFW.  There’s another one here that has more of his movie posters and is proabably a better choice if you’re at work.

Mar 242010
 

There are a disturbing number of clips like this floating around the internet, where it appears to show police officers responding to the merest hints of provocation, with excessive force. (See also: the case of Peter Watts. To cleanse your palate, see how the Love Police talk down some jumpy cops in the UK, who don’t really understand their own terror laws.)

Normally, I don’t post those types of videos here — I am interested, concerned, etc, but I see them as outside the scope of this blog. There are loads of activists who can make their civil liberties points better and more ably than I. And I support them.

This video, though, I’ll post. And it’s because, to my utter surprise, I appear to be involved.

Yikes! Sure looks like a clear-cut case of overdoing it to me. Of course, as any police apologists will quickly say, I don’t know the context. And you’re right, I don’t. But I do know that all six people who were arrested were later released without charge.

And how do I know that?

Well, let’s go to the Canadian Press story, as carried in the Toronto Star:

Police spokesman Sgt. Grant Hamilton says officers responded to a fight involving eight males early Sunday morning. He says when police arrived on the scene, they found one man being kicked in the head and ended up taking six others into custody. …

Hamilton says the man who was kicked in the head was taken to hospital but has since been released and is not co-operating with police. The six men who were taken into custody were released without charges.

Whoa. It’s a po-mo moment.

To be honest, I’ve Googled myself before, so it wasn’t a total surprise that there was a Grant Hamilton, police officer out there (there’s even a picture of him in this CBC story, for example). But I’ve never bumped up against him like that, just randomly.

There’s yet another Grant Hamilton, too, who I’ve mentioned on this blog before, and who emailed me a little while ago, saying that when I blog about Polaroid (he’s an artist — and a good one — and Polaroid is his medium of choice) the Google alerts that pop up contain “his” name and it’s briefly mystifying. (We had a nice email exchange, but I don’t think we’re related in any way.)

Now that I’ve randomly stumbled against my own “doppelnamer,” I think I understand the dissociative feeling he must experience. And will, again, when this post pops up. Sorry, Grant.

Mar 242010
 

Tavis Coburn, with design agency Dutch Uncle, was commissioned to do up some posters for the 2010 BAFTAs, which he did in delightfully retro style. I love this one for the Hurt Locker, which looks like it was ripped from the cover of a deliciously pulp sci-fi paperback that I might have purchased for 75 cents from a used-book store as a pre-teen:

He also did Up In The Air, Precious, and An Education, but I think my second-favourite was the one he did for Avatar.

Coburn’s bio, on the Dutch Uncle site, says that his “unique style is inspired by 1940s comic book art, the Russian avant-garde movement, and printed materials from the 1950s/60s.”

Why, I think that’s a recipe for awesome.