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Are Bose-Einstein Coordinates really a fifth state of matter? Are these really BECs?
The current issue of The Oxford American is their annual music issue, which comes with a 24-track CD. This year's CD includes the Swan Silvertones, Big Star, Eartha Kitt, Junior Kimbrough, and "The Theme from Ali & His Gang vs Mr. Tooth Decay."
All this and Roy Blount's cranky un-appreciation of Bob Dylan, not to mention editor Marc Smirnoff's paean to used record stores. Well worth the $9.95 cover price, if not the annual subscription (and I reckon it's worth the whole pop).
Wine tasting robot identifies reporter as being "prosciutto," cameraman as "bacon."
Why do they call this a mistake? The one time I severely burned my hand, it sure smelled like roast pork! (I had about a nanosecond to identify the smell before my trusty pain receptors clicked into overdrive.)
The music business needs to start developing talent or the slump they're currently in is not gonna get any better any time soon. One reason people aren't buying records anymore, or downloads if you must, is that in some genres there's a lack of compelling talent.
Course that's common sense, and this is a business that seems to always be looking for a silver bullet. Or backward at its glorious past.
Fitting right in with that last vision is the "new" Beatles album that's in the offing. Amazing how many new albums come from people who've been dead for years ain't it? This one will use music…
I'm still writing.
First, I hoped to be finished by Friday evening. How nice it would have been to leave the office without an audio-related care in the world. When that proved impossible, I thought I might be able to knock it out over the weekend. But you know how that goes. (A guy's gotta do laundry. As I watched the clothes spin, my mind filled with images of silk-dome tweeters.) Of course, it would have felt good to insert the final period and click "save" before this morning came, but: no such luck. (There were dishes to wash. Drinking glasses morphed into power tubes, dinner…
Check out the wild parrots of Brooklyn. Stop laughing—we have everything in this borough.
Here's some classic hi-fi literature. Be sure to read "Mad Goes Hi-Fi." Same as it ever was.
Via Jeff Wong.
Furinkan High School Kendo Club posts a spirited two-part attack on science fiction clichés. Erik Even's right that most of these are tired—but Joss Whedon has proven time and time again that a new spin can make even the lamest plot devices come alive. So add a codicil to all of these rules: "unless you are a genius."