Every once and again I email myself or bookmark a link that I want to revisit and I forget about it for a long time, sometimes for several years. I’m dumping some of those along with some fresher ones. These are for both you and me:
Fiji Water: Spin the Bottle: Anna Lenzer shares her investigation of Fiji Water over at Mother Jones. Cool, clean, delicious corruption.
Nearly every piece of US paper currency is covered in cocaine! And then there’s that dollar bill my brother sprayed with mace and gave to my sister that one time, which could still be floating around somewhere.
Cintra Wilson made some fat people people of size angry, with her article in the NYT about JC Penney’s strategy of catering to people of all sizes. As one of those people (the fat kind) I have to say, I didn’t find it offensive but rather kind of funny. Maybe that’s because I have soul-crushing low self-esteem or maybe it’s because I have a sense of humor. [via]
Thank you, Google Books, for sharing with us this literary treasure: A treatise on foreign bodies in surgical practice, Volume 1. Check that book out and don’t pass up page 256 where we come upon a sordid tale of a man, his lover, alcohol, opiates, a goblet, a 1.5 foot long opium pipe, a vagina and a rectum. You can’t make this shit up and if you could, you wouldn’t need to because it’s real and all right here for free. This is better than those free Bibles the Jehovah’s Witnesses used to hand out at my high school!
I don’t know why I originally bookmarked the website Whorange, but I realize now that it was the right thing to do. While browsing, I found this little Ikea product hack and don’t you know that when I finish re-tiling that bathroom that I chipped apart, oh you know, last summer, I will be redoing our office and this will definitely be a design element. You bet your ass it will.
The Microgram Bulletin is one of the best monthly reads and is provided to us by the DEA. It has drugs, the law, drugs and cartoons. The June 2009 issue, for example, brings us to the Southwestern Unites States where ecstacy and ecstacy mimics are designed to look like Garfield, Snoopy, the mushroom from Super Mario Brothers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Transformers, Autobots, Homer Simpson, Bart Simpson, the Smurfs and Barack Obama. Yes, just one Barack Obama a day can make your heart explode. Yay! Click monthly to find how and where the best and brightest drug traffickers are moving their products. Careful with that bottle of Courvoisier, because it might just contain 21 dissolved Darvocet tablets.
Brought to Life is the Science Museum’s (UK) website on the History of Medicine. It has a wealth of information on people, places, practices and other weird shit you’d never think to look for. For example, I randomly clicked on a book called De humani corporis fabrica by Vesalius, published in 1555. It is explained that:
Before you even begin to read, the picture on the front page contains many clues about the revolutionary changes taking place in anatomy. In the middle of the picture, Vesalius himself is dissecting a corpse. Why was this so revolutionary? It’s very different from traditional mediaeval practice, when a professor would read from Galen’s texts. Doing the dirty work of actually cutting the body was the job of a more junior colleague, often a barber. There are still barbers in this image – can you find them? (They’re underneath the table, arguing about who gets to sharpen the knives.) If you look closely, there are some larger-than-life figures at the front, wearing ancient robes. They are the classical authors Aristotle, Galen and Hippocrates, and are accompanied by animals, a reminder that human dissection was very rare in the ancient world. Can you see something unusual about one of the dogs? Its hind leg is a human foot – this is a deliberate mistake. Why would Vesalius do this? He wanted to suggest that using animals was not a good way to understand the human body.
Can you imagine your barber also being in charge of dissecting bodies? For serious? MY BARBER? I can’t manage to get a decent haircut from mine (well, actually, that last one was pretty good), let alone trust him to dissect a human body. Oh, how we have lost our way.
What is Hair Wars, you ask? Only the best idea ever! What started out as a gimmick to get people into clubs has turned into an all out assault on our sensibilities. Is that a ginormous peacock on your head? Why yes, it is. [via]
Last summer, Gelatiamo, a gelato shop and bakery in Downtown Seattle, had rice gelato on their menu. I’d heard about it from a coworker, so I decided to try it. Man, was it the most delicious frozen treat I’d ever had (not counting those Gari Gari-Kun popsicles in Tokyo – a soda-flavored popsicle with generic popsicle ice on the outside while the inside is grainier, crunchier ice)? It sure was. And then, never again. Never again would they sell it, even though I called often to ask: Are you selling rice gelato today? Always, the answer was no. So fuck Gelatiamo, I’m gonna make it myself.
When I rediscoveed this boomarked link to a website for additives, I wasn’t sure what I was thinking about when I decided I needed to save it. It looked so sciency and I am not a sciency kind of person when it comes to liquids and powders so the only thing I could think was maybe I thought it would be handy to have in case I wanted to poison Janie. I mean, you can purchase a gallon of Hydrolized Wheat Protein and we all know the horrors of Janie mixed with wheat, don’t we? But then I moved on to the next link in my folder full of weird shit I can’t remember saving and it all started to make sense. Bath bombs (you need the additive citric acid to make them fizzy)! This is what everyone is getting for Christmas this year! YAY! I hope your skin doesn’t burn off! I am not a chemist!
The Tibetan Nuns Project offers support to nuns in exile from Tibet and India. It provides education and aid to nuns in six different nunneries. I told Janie that if she left me or died that I’d never love anyone else and, instead, would become a Buddhist nun. How many times can you say nun in a paragraph? NUN NUN NUN NUN. It sounds funny, doesn’t it? Nun.
I’ve had these French Soap Hooks bookmarked for two years now. Sometimes I’d click and gaze at them and think about how badly I wanted to find a place to put them. I still don’t have a place for them, but that’s okay because apparently Apartment Therapy’s store is under renovations until…next year? Wow. I hope they will still have these, but if not, and I finally discover a place where I can use them, I’ll order them from la Maison Bleue. [via]
I love Ginger Ale. I love it more than most drinks, with the possible exception of Pepsi in which case I’d say it is a tie. If Pepsi and Ginger Ale could be mixed together to make the ultimate tasty beverage (they can’t, FYI), I’d have that every day and then die of The Diabetes. Anyhow, among the many lost links in my “you should try to make this yourself” folder is this recipe for making ginger ale at home for 61 cents. And other than the idea that I can make this delicious beverage on my own for 61 cents, it suggests I put it into a growler jug, which is just about the best name for a beverage container I’ve ever heard and I must have one of my very own. So I’m going to order a custom made growler which will bear the name of my new ginger ale business: Uncouth Brew.
When we are finally able to have a baby, I’m gonna buy this Stokke Sleepi crib. If we are never able to have babies, I’m still going to buy this crib and I’m going to put Janie to bed in it every night. Who is the prettiest adult baby?
I can’t even begin to tell you how I found this website, but it makes total sense that I’d want to make something out of mud and put it somewhere in our house so people could look at it and ask about it and I could say – oh yeah. It’s called a dodorango and I made that out of mud and awesome.
There is a new store in Ballard (which is a part of Seattle, for you Canadians and Southerners) called Snacks! which is just about the best idea for a store ever because it’s filled with snacks. I LOVE SNACKS! I haven’t been to the store yet because I haven’t really gotten drunk enough, but when I do, I’ll be making Janie drive me there for some Ruffles and Otter Pops. [via]
A couple of weeks ago I decided to build a cat cage. As I have mentioned for the past, I don’t know, FOREVER, our cats have been very bad with the attacking and the peeing. I love these cats. I know that I say I hate them, and I do, but I also love them. I’ve had Ducati for over nine years and he’s been at my side longer than Janie has and he has never, not once, refused to take his shirt off. In our years together we have been through a lot, so the idea that I might have to find him a new home or put him outside if he doesn’t shape up is very difficult, and yet I want to punch him in the face. After further consideration and agreeing that the cats stuffed together into a cage for most of the day would only exacerbate their poor decision-making, we decided that the cage should be modified to suit Gus. We figured that this would give the cats some of their beloved territory back (the bed) and Gus would maybe feel better about not being locked in a room all alone for eight hours a day. So he’s now locked in a cage in the same room as those three (really, pretty awful) cats who probably press themselves up against the chicken wire and yell obscenities at him Also, this cage that I made with my bare hands and several power tools has a working door. Seriously, I built a cage with a door that latches shut. I AM BADASS! Anyhow, so this link above is a wonderful guide for making a cat cage and we used a modification of that cage (basically, I jut built the lower half without the shelf) to make one for Gus which is really working out pretty well for all of us. In fact, the cats have been downright hospitable and today, I do not hate them as much as I usually do.
Janie and I have been watching the History Channel’s new series Clash of the Gods, an hour long show dedicated to a different Greek mythological figure each week. Last night was the episode on Hades. The ancient Greeks believed that each deceased person was escorted by Charon, the ferryman, across an underground lake or river to Tartarus. He received as payment an “Obolos” coin (which the relatives of the deceased would place under the deceased’s tongue or over their cold, dead eyes). Without the Obolos, the soul would be doomed to wander in limbo for all eternity. The Diros Caves at the tip of Cape Matapan, in Laconia, Greece, legend claims, were the home of Hades and an entrance to the underworld. Also, this is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen:
And with that, I close up my bag of links. Thank you, and good night.