Hey, let’s make a gauss rifle at home!

My Tivo captured “El Vaquero de la Ciudad” for me last night. I’m not sure what algorithm is at work there, but it certain believes I’m game for watching 20-year-old Spanish-dubbed Travolta vehicles. I guess it would help if I’d do some thumb-voting, but it’s more fun to see what random stuff it’ll capture.

Joe Blow Glassworks. For all your ray-gun needs.

I just want to remind everyone that I don’t make these up, I just point them out. It’s sort of a cultural commentary role.

Samsung Means To Come.

This is without a doubt my favorite activist group.

There’s a lot to love about this diagram.

The labor implications of this are, of course, dire for those who make their living plucking chickens.

Villain Supply.

I’m a car nut. Sue me. But sometimes, those magazines have really fantastic reviews.

I’m really not sure what I can say about this, except that sometimes ad campaigns blend ideas in scary ways.

Electronic Quarterback on your Palm.

Electronic Quarterback on your Palm.

Help ’em figure out What’s Better.

“ Abor, Two Cold Stroh’s”

This satellite photo clearly shows the path of an F-5 tornado. Scary, but also cool.

It’s nowhere near done — I’m currently using version 0.2.7 — but Chimera is rapidly becoming my favorite browser on Mac OS X. It’s a true Unix back-end wed to a pure Cocoa front end, and it’s fast. Check it out.

I guess if ice dancing and synchronized swimming are sports, then wife carrying must be, too.

Skippy has a list.

Surely it’s not exactly a shock to discover that evil drugs may not be evil after all, right?

Pierced Nipples!

This chronology pretty much speaks for itself.

Somebody in the photojournalism camp is having a bit of fun.

I’ve just been informed that John Ashcroft will be singing on the Letterman show tonight, Wednesday, April 17.

That is all.

It seems “trying to learn” is now against the rules in Introductory Computer Science at that esteemed Atlanta institution. Way to go, guys.

These doctors have a pretty good sense of humor about their work. Don’t skip the intro, but once it’s over don’t miss the map. There’s sound.

Really really cool trees.

I remember Pong.

You fin’ to raise up and get your limo on? Yeah, you know who to call.

A few weeks ago, I heard a story on NPR about a new pre-date ritual beginning to surface in some circles: “ Googling” your date. Put their name and address into Google, and fire away, and all sorts of interesting bits might come up. Not quite a background check and not quite stalking, it seems harmless enough and even a little interesting.

Well, comes now Ex-SO.com, which appears to take the idea several steps further — it’s like Epinions for dating. Interesting, but also a little bit creepy.

Some of you may know Tim. He got married on Sunday. I took some pictures. Enjoy.

Well, as it turns out, this whole science thing is just a big goof on the part of the Almighty.

I’d like to take this opportunity to note that not all Christians are freaks. Thanks you.

This just in: the anti-Unix site authored by Microsoft and Unisys is itself hosted on FreeBSD and Apache.

My pal Chris Mohney is writing a travel diary for Slate this week. The subject, oddly enough, is Las Vegas. Enjoy. (Longtime readers will recognize Chris from his earlier entry here; rest assured the dolphin recanted, and the ADA was forced to drop the charges.)

Actually, I’d say it’s a bad week for everybody. Legends Milton Berle, Dudley Moore, and Billy Wilder all checked out, leaving behind a really amazing body of work. Moore (b. 1935), widely known for comedies like 10, Foul Play, and Arthur, was actually a concert pianist prior to all that. If you’ve never seen the original version of Bedazzled, which he wrote with Peter Cook, it’s well worth your time. He was a bit young to go, I’d say, but he’s been very ill for a long tiime.

Both Wilder and Berle were in their 90s, but even so I think we could have all enjoyed a few more bits from them. Berle (b. 1908), a.k.a. Mr. Television, is one of the reasons that new medium succeeded so well. He was one of the original TV stars, and literally spent his life onscreen — his first credit is from 1914.

Wilder (b. 1906) left an even more significant mark on the world of film. It was Wilder who gave us Double Indemnity (“hey, isn’t that the dad from My Three Sons?”), The Lost Weekend (a film on the horrors of drink even grander than Leaving Las Vegas), Sunset Blvd., Stalag 17, (the original) Sabrina, Some Like It Hot, and The Apartment — and many more. Wilder’s body of work includes several of the AFI’s top 100 American Films. He was nominated for 21 Oscars, and won 7 (including the Thalberg Award). Few can hope to match this kind of cinematic resume.|*|

Lyle Lovett has been trampled by a bull at his family ranch. Doctors say he’s in good condition. No word yet on his hat.

So I spent the weekend in New York, where I met some interesting people, few of whom may be known to you.

Absinthe seems to be making something of a comeback thanks to the Internet.

Announcing Flo Control.

But I love McSweeney’s anyway.

How fast can you spank the monkey?

It’s coming back.

The Larson B ice shelf, an enormous floating extension of Antarctica, has broken up. When I say “enormous,” I mean REALLY REALLY BIG, like 1,250 square miles and 650 feet thick (which is roughly the same as Rhode Island, though right offhand I don’t know how thick Rhode Island is). It’s now basically free-floating icebergs of the absurdly large variety; one is about nine times the size of Singapore.

Coverage at Yahoo and the BBC.

Global warming? What’s that?

Spamradio. Text-to-speech never sounded so good.

Sony has produced a humanoid robot that walks on two legs, can handle uneven surfaces, and even get up on its own if it falls down. It can also recognize you, and have limited conversations. Not exactly C3P0, but definitely getting there.

The Jim Morrison Simulatron, brought to you by the good folks at Modern Humorist.

Thanks to Madam Kaldi, I think I’ve just found my new brand of toilet paper.

Squirrels!

Caribou-flavored condoms.

It’s my birthday.