There’s something truly wonderful about Johann Sebastian Joust. It’s a performance-piece that brings video games back to pure play. And it’s so beautifully simple. In the video, Doug Wilson talks about how he came up with the idea for the game and how it was an “oh!” moment.
Plus, now is probably a good time to pimp their Kickstarter, which will help release JSJ to a wider audience.
5 Whys are really useful for sorting out an issue in the correct way, but it’s hard to run a good 5 Whys. Dan Milstein’s presentation is a great starting point.
Dublin accounts for 40 per cent of the population, but nobody speaks for the city in the way Michael Bloomberg does for New York and Boris Johnson for London. Civic governance is incredibly weak, with an array of public bodies, from Dublin Port Company to the National Transport Authority, exercising power in the city. Any chance of metropolitan cohesion was squandered when Dublin was carved up arbitrarily between four local authorities in 1994.
These are some great suggestions. For whatever reason, the city seems to be experiencing an increased period of self-reflection. And that’s a good thing. Articles like these can only help.
In the pre-dawn hours of April 30th of this year I woke to the sound of a bullhorn yelling un-intelligible orders. I ran naked outside and saw a military formation whose uniforms identified them as GSU, creeping slowly down my driveway. I laid down the pistol that I keep for protection and, contrary to Josh Davis’ assertion that I said “Motherfuckers”, said nothing and went back inside. I woke Amy, the 17 year old with whom I was living, and calmly told her to get dressed – that the GSU was invading the property.
Did you know John McAfee has a blog? Did you know it’s the most insane-slash-interesting thing ever?
What exactly about a small salad with four or five miniature croutons makes Guy’s Famous Big Bite Caesar (a) big (b) famous or (c) Guy’s, in any meaningful sense?
Were you struck by how very far from awesome the Awesome Pretzel Chicken Tenders are? If you hadn’t come up with the recipe yourself, would you ever guess that the shiny tissue of breading that exudes grease onto the plate contains either pretzels or smoked almonds? Did you discern any buttermilk or brine in the white meat, or did you think it tasted like chewy air?
Why is one of the few things on your menu that can be eaten without fear or regret — a lunch-only sandwich of chopped soy-glazed pork with coleslaw and cucumbers — called a Roasted Pork Bahn Mi, when it resembles that item about as much as you resemble Emily Dickinson?
If you read just one restaurant review today, make it Pete Wells’ review of Guy’s American Kitchen & Bar in the New York Times
Cabin in the Woods is the best deconstruction of the horror genre since Scream. Actually, fuck that. Cabin in the Woods is much better than Scream. Wes Craven was happy enough to just list out the tropes of slasher movies, leading to a nudging, winking circle-jerk of “You know we know these tropes. And now we know you know we know them.”
Cabin in the Woods is better than that. It lists out the cliches – the things we love about horror movies – and gives them context. And not in some po-faced way. It’s got convictions and goddamn if it doesn’t follow through on them. Asked if he had any plans for a sequel, director Drew Goddard answered “Have you seen the ending to my movie?”
You need to see this ending. And the middle. And also the beginning. Multiple times, if possible.
The Barkley is the world’s toughest race you’ve never heard of. With 59,100 feet of climb and decent over 100 miles, it’s considered the most difficult endurance event on the planet. In its 25-year history, only twelve men, the same amount of men who have walked on the moon, have actually been able to finish the race.
Before and after shots of some of the competitors. Look at these faces. These people have stared into the abyss.
The only thing more embarrassing than catching a guy on the plane looking at pornography on his computer is seeing a guy on the plane reading “The Hunger Games.” Or a Twilight book. Or Harry Potter. The only time I’m O.K. with an adult holding a children’s book is if he’s moving his mouth as he reads.
Translation: I am insufferable cunt.
Honestly, there’s not a sentence in his article that I don’t find absolutely hateful. Using Thomas Pynchon and David Foster Wallace to show us how well-read you are is total bullshit (I know this because it’s the exact kind of total bullshit I pull myself).