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Okay. We just squeezed a full day's work into four tight and furious hours. The company granted us a half-day, so that we could all get a head-start on the holiday weekend. This, of course, is very nice. However, we started shipping the wonderful June issue just yesterday and had much work to accomplish this morning. In addition, for various reasons, we've had to accomplish that work without the help of an ad coordinator or production manager, and all while employing an entirely new pre-press system. Shipping days, as a rule, are intense. These have gone beyond intense.
Cool interactive timeline that allows you to slide the point of reference along a timeline starting with the Big Bang and ending with . . . .
A 1959 Walt Kelly Pogo page commemorating the best note ever. Nowadays you'd never get away with humor this wordy, but the language is intoxicating.
John Atkinson just emailed this link asking, "Have you blogged this?" Well, no—although I do believe I emailed it to him back in ought-three. Disirregardless, it's a good'un.
And, as Dave Barry likes to say, projects like this are why we need guys. And Lego, obviously.
He was looking at me. I acknowledged, nodded politely, turned away.
As the dirty doors slid open, letting us out into the blue and gray smear of Grove Street station, he asked: "You don't happen to work in academia, do you?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Is there any chance that you work in academia?"
"No, but thanks for asking."
"You look the part."
"Well, I always kinda wanted to be an English professor."
"What do you do?"
"I'm an editor."
"Close."
"Yeah."
"What do you edit?"
"I work for a magazine called…
From The Guardian comes "Fallout: the human cost of a nuclear catastrophe," a photo essay on Chernobyl that's difficult to look at—and impossible to look away from.
We're talking two 500-cubic-inch V-8s, 1000 board-feet feet of mahogany (cut into 4183 pieces), five gallons of glue, 60 pounds of drywall screws, and four gallons of varnish.