Weekend Things, S01E07
Last week I went looking for sensible Content about the Brexit, and didn’t find much of interest, but then John Oliver showed up with his take, and how I laughed! The possibility seemed so, so remote. Then yesterday, in the three hours between me logging off in Mexico City and logging back on again somewhere high over San Diego, everything went horribly wrong.
Today, following along with the grisly aftermath, I feel queasy and a bit teary, perhaps even more than I did with the awful events of last week. This is succinct and has resonated with many people; Nigel Farage is vying with Donald Trump for Most Dreadful Person honours (Trump, visiting Scotland for golf, is a weapons-grade plum, or something stronger); David Cameron has Most Pathetic sewn up; and the fallout from the whole thing is going to be absolutely brutal, perhaps most particularly for the people who voted for it. The New Yorker cover is clever.
A moment after I published last week’s Things, my friend Matthew Klugman tweeted a link to this article by Erin Riley. She describes some radio chatter between Eddie McGuire, Wayne Carey, James Brayshaw, Danny Frawley and Damian Barrett, in which Eddie rounds up support for the notion of drowning Caroline Wilson in freezing water. LOL, as we all would have said had we been listening to MMM when it happened, which of course we wouldn’t have been, because we’re not morons.
After much pressure from many pissed-off people, Eddie delivered this classic non-apology apology:
“I say from the bottom from my heart that I am so sorry that those comments have resonated that way.”
And the AFL decided that it was sufficient. Eddie is still the Collingwood President, Brayshaw is still North Melbourne Chairman, Wayne Carey’s views are still — despite everything — being printed in the newspapers, and Danny Frawley (whose apology, it must be said, was the most immediate and sincere of all of them) is still doing whatever the fuck Danny Frawley does, I have no idea. The only hope of some kind of appropriate punishment is if club sponsors pull out and force Collingwood’s hand. Money talks.
O’Reilly publishes dead-tree books — programming manuals and standards guides — that held biblical importance to ’90s coders.
Needless snark in this otherwise good profile of Ev Williams, who started his career at O’Reilly Media. When somebody relayed that line to me, I assumed that it was Ev’s own snark, but it’s not actually a quote. Burn!
Visiting Casa Luis Barragán was a highlight of our trip to Mexico City. I wasn’t prepared to pay the $25 that would have allowed me to take photos, and my shutter-finger itched the whole way through the tour (here are a few pics to get a sense of what he’s on about). Barragán himself seems like an odd stick: extremely tall; deeply Catholic; never married; very into horses.
The first anomaly is the use of an American date format of [Mddyy] in the serial number, but a British date format of [d MMM., y] for the Incept Date. Surely a serial number, of all things, would benefit from placing year before month, for chronological sorting of SKUs? Even if not, the inconsistency between the two is disappointing, especially for a movie so clearly set in America. […] Honestly, folks: these are the kinds of details that make or break a movie.
Another excellent edition of Typeset in the Future, this time focusing the microscope on Blade Runner. These kinds of projects feel like Essence of Internet to me: obsessive, knowledgeable and highly tangential. Make sure you check out the map of Deckard’s apartment.
Scott Morrison made the ludicrous and insulting suggestion that he’s sympathetic with LGBTI people because he faces similar attacks on his own views regularly. Brocklesnitch smashes it, as usual. What a piece of work is Morrison.
A rad papercut animation series from Yelldesign started this week.