Since submarines began roaming the depths in World War I, sailors and oceanographers, who use sonar technology to map seafloor topography and identify ocean life, have regularly run into “acoustic ghosts”—inexplicable bodies of movable mass that sometimes rivaled the size of a city. Every time a theory emerged to explain the phenomenon, however, it was quickly shot down.
In 2003 scientists aboard a research vessel just south of Long Island, New York, discovered that the UFOs were composed of hundreds of millions of fish—massive gatherings on a scale never before documented. Using low-frequency sonar technology that penetrated hundreds of miles, they identified a school roughly the size of Manhattan.
The ocean terrifies and amazes me.
Jane Lynch: You don’t seem like a dark person, but you have to have something dark going on. Tell us what’s dark about you.
Amy Poehler: I don’t like most people. I really, really don’t. I don’t like other people or a lot of people. But other than that, I’m really fun to be around.
Okay, this is all great, but the Del Close stuff is the best. Poehler tells the story of how he died and it is priceless:
He was an amazing grouch… At the end of an amazing life, he died in an amazing way. He gathered everyone in his hotel room and Bill Murray hired a saxophonist…and he had a Wiccan ceremony because he was like a crazy witch guy, and Harold Ramis and everybody was there, and then he said, “I’m tired of being the funniest person in the room,” and then he died. Those were his last words. And then he donated his skull to the Goodman theater to use in productions of Hamlet.
Ever accidentally walk into that East Village guy’s home because you thought it was an antique shop? Someone interviewed him and it turns out he’s terribly beautiful.
“This Is My Home” by Departure Arrival Films.
Oh, this is wonderful.
… the harder I work, the more I live. …
George Bernard Shaw (via saladinho)
This is a pretty wonderful way to think of it. The tags are great, too.
For all its bravura, Mr. Fairfax’s seafaring almost pales beside his earlier ventures. Footloose and handsome, he was a flesh-and-blood character out of Graham Greene, with more than a dash of Hemingway and Ian Fleming shaken in.
At 9, he settled a dispute with a pistol. At 13, he lit out for the Amazon jungle.
At 20, he attempted suicide-by-jaguar. Afterward he was apprenticed to a pirate. To please his mother, who did not take kindly to his being a pirate, he briefly managed a mink farm, one of the few truly dull entries on his otherwise crackling résumé, which lately included a career as a professional gambler.
This is totally worth a quick read. A pistol fight at nine years old? Bad ass.
I am now in love with Kevin Costner
I am a mess watching this. But he is perfect and kind and sweet and lovely, which are all the things you need to be when delivering the eulogy for a beloved star.
You can borrow on people’s faith in yourself when you may be lacking it. You can pocket theirs and see if it can get you through.
Am I the only person who didn’t know about The Talks? They’re short interviews with interesting celebrities, and I haven’t been able to stop reading them. Some of them make the respondent less likeable (surprisingly, Bill Murray fits into this category for me), but most have at least one great little gem that stands out. For example:
I’m staying with my awesome twin bro, Toph, and his awesome Charlie, and every day around here is like a hilarious quote competition. I try to write them all down so I can share them here, but more often than not, I’m laughing way too hard for that. So here are two examples from today:
We took the dogbear to get a bath today. Near the washing station there was a plate glass window with all sorts of dogs in a play area just watching us wash him. They would occasionally start barking and he seemed totally embarrassed. I’m sure I didn’t help by taking photos.
We sent an unsuspecting average dude from Brooklyn who had never been to a runway show before to 2 of them at New York Fashion Week. The results are … well, you’d better read for yourself.
8:16 p.m. They don’t have a seat assignment for me, so a nice lady named Haley with an iPad and a headset puts me in G-2-29. I’m in the second row! Is that good or bad? I feel like it could be worse. There is a serious-looking fashion person next to me when I sit down. She says “Bonjour,” and I laugh, which is rude.
8:18 p.m. Waiting, trying to look normal. I take notes in a notepad so people assume that I am an important and unsuspecting street-style blogger. I have not warmed up from the Moncler show yet. My legs are that type of cold where maybe I peed myself but there’s no way to be sure.
8:24 p.m. There is a beautiful and stylish mom across the runway. Her 6-year-old is a vision. He’s got messy blond hair and is wearing an ascot, blazer and striped socks. He’s eating a mozzarella stick, and he offers some to his mom. Where did he get those? Is he taunting me? He’s barely out of diapers, better dressed than me and in possession of mozzarella sticks. I’m a grown man and I should have those whenever I want. I hate him.
8:27 p.m. The show starts. It is a genuinely thrilling live event! I try to nod and really pay attention to the clothes. “Hmm, yes, shoes.”
This is pretty entertaining, if only because I’m sure I’d feel just as weird and out of place at any of these shows as he does. Except, I’d probably have a coffee stain on my shirt and say the wrong thing to some famous shoe designer I had no idea was famous.
Whitney Houston, “Where Do Broken Hearts Go.”
Where do broken hearts go
when they find their way home
back to the open arms
of a love that’s waiting there
This reminds me of going to the roller skating rink. Whitney’s music was definitely the soundtrack to my growing up.
Something about this is astounding. We’ve all heard the national anthem hundreds of times, but this is something special.
Whitney Houston — I Wanna Dance with Somebody
R.I.P. Whitney, I was just singing The Greatest Love of All in the car today. Damn.
My all time favorite…
Living here in this brand new world, might be a fantasy…
This was Whitney Houston’s first ever appearance on television. Breathtaking.
I have never been so upset at losing a celebrity as I am today. Whitney was the real thing. There were so many things that made her incredible, as Clive Davis says in this video:
She’s elegant, she’s sensuous, she’s innocent, she’s got an incredible range of talent, but guts and soul at the same time….She’s a beautiful girl and her poise doesn’t hurt. But it’s her natural charm. You’ve either got it or you don’t have it. She’s got it.
More than all that though, it was That Voice. Every time I’ve ever heard her I’ve been completely astounded that a person could make singing sound so effortless and powerful. You’ll be missed, Whitney.
GPOY Backyard Edition
I was out in the backyard playing with the self-timer on my camera and caught this nice little picture when Decan distracted me. Today was the first time in a while I let my hair dry naturally and it turned into this. Seeing it now makes me wonder why I’ve spent years straightening it. Also, you can barely see the nail decals I tried for the first time today. They’re awesome. It took a fraction of the time polish does and I’m loving the black on silver giraffe print from Kiss Nail Dress. So, I guess the moral of today is: looking nice doesn’t have to take forever. Hopefully I’ll remember that.
Anish Kapoor’s famous Cloudgate, in Millennium Park, Chicago, now has an equally mesmerising choreographed light show, Luminous Field, by Luftwerk, enhancing the experience of the work furthermore.
This looks incredible. Oh man, I have never missed Chicago more! I loved the Bean. I worked down the street from there and would stop by every few days to stare at the reflections. I wish I were there to do a little disco dance under these lights.
The absolutely amazing Pigpen Theatre Company does “Hey Ya!”. Despite the complete over-abundance of covers of this song, this is 100% vital.
I have always hated this song. Until now.