one nation under cctv

postsecret: xii

postsecret

t.b., b., t.t.b.

From the earliest possible age Lartigue kept a little diary. At the top of each page there was always a drawing of the sun or a cloud...and some initials: T.B., B., T.T.B. They stood for Très beau. Beau. Très très beau...That was the weather. It was always a good day. It almost never rained. Ever...And then there would be a quick description of what he did that day. Who visited the house. Where they went...And half the page devoted to drawings of what he’d photographed, because the developing was a very risky process and often the pictures didn’t come out. So, afraid that he might never see the pictures that he’d taken, he would draw from memory what he’d photographed. And in the diaries, which went on for many years, you can see the photographs that have since become masterpieces...drawn. And the miracle of these little drawings is that he had captured exactly the way a scarf had been caught by the wind the moment he clicked the shutter. And they’re accurate. Absolutely accurate. Which means a perfect memory...and a complete sense of what he’d wanted. And this obsessiveness went on every year of his life. The files. The scrapbooks. They’re all over the apartment. The perfection of those files. In a second, he can find any glass negative from...1911– neatly kept in perfect condition.

By photographer Richard Avedon, in an afterword for
Diary of a Century: Jacques Henri Lartigue written by Lartigue himself.

Photograph is Rouzat – Dédé (1911).

the global warmings

bowman in space

I normally hate these things, but... this made me laugh.

daisy, daisy

HAL: Dave, stop. Stop will you? Stop Dave. Will you stop, Dave? Stop, Dave. I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going, I can feel it. Good afternoon gentlemen, I am a HAL9000 computer. I became operational at the HAL plant in Urbana, Illinois, on the twelfth of January 1992, my instructor was mister Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it, I can sing it for you.
Bowman: Yes, I'd like to hear it, Hal. Sing it for me.
HAL: It's called 'Daisy.' Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy, all for the love of you. It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage, but you'll look sweet upon the seat, of a bicycle built for two.

This scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey breaks my heart.

i'm sorry, dave

Bowman: Hello, Hal, do you read me? Hello, Hal, do you read me? Do you read me Hal?'
HAL: Affirmative Dave, I read you.
Bowman: Open the pod bay doors Hal.
HAL: I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that.
Bowman: What's the problem?
HAL: I think you know what the problem is, just as well as I do.
Bowman: What are you talking about Hal?
HAL: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.
Bowman: I don't know what you're talking about Hal.
HAL: I know that you and Frank were planning to disconnect me, and I'm afraid that's something I cannot allow to happen.'
Bowman: Where the hell d'you get that idea Hal?
HAL: Dave, although you took very thorough precautions in the pod, against my hearing you, I could see your lips move.
Bowman: Alright Hal, I'll go in through the emergency airlock.
HAL: Without your space helmet Dave, you're going to find that rather difficult.
Bowman: Hal, I won't argue with you any more, open the doors.
HAL: Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore, goodbye.

The creepiest scene from 2001: A Spacey Odyssey.
Kubrick was a genius.

HAL: incapable of error

Interviewer: The sixth member of the Discovery crew was not concerned about the problems of hibernation, for he was the latest result in machine intelligence, the HAL9000 computer. Good afternoon, HAL. How's everything going?
HAL: Good afternoon, Mr. Amor. Everything is going extremely well.
Interviewer: Hal, you have an enormous responsibility on this mission, in many ways perhaps the greatest responsibility of any single mission element, does this ever cause you any lack of confidence?
HAL: Let me put it this way, Mr. Amor. The 9000 series is the most reliable computer ever made; no 9000 computer has ever made a mistake or distorted information, we are all, by any practical definition of the words, fool proof and incapable of error.

From Kubrick's masterpiece, 2001: A Space Odyssey.
For fans, see also: HAL Project. Very cool.

remote chorus of boys

Come sit in the morning garden for awhile. Open the map.

With AIDS a form of life went dead, a way of thought, a form of imagination and hope. Any death is tragic and the death of children especially so. . . . But this other death carries away a whole possible world.

A remote chorus of boys.

Ava, by Carole Maso

the fall

shoveling snow with buddha

Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word
for what he does, or does not do.

Billy Collins, a tiny excerpt from "Shoveling Snow with Buddha"

improv everywhere

frozen at grand central station

sunset debris

Can you tell that I am writing on Easter? That I have Terry Riley on the stereo? That I am typing up the letters of Paul Metcalf? That I could insert anything, say anything, in this space? But that to say it is to exclude other possibilities? Is it love or fear? How do you tell them apart? How do you know she comes from New Jersey? Does it surprise you that people are fragile, that one thing goes wrong and a whole life destructs, that it happens all the time? Do you know the story of the man who drowned in a vat of molten chocolate? Do you know the difference between an elephant and a loaf of bread? Do you recall the day at Disneyland when you heard that Ty Cobb died? What were you doing when you heard about JFK? So what? What are the non-cognitive aspects of the city, of the elbow, of the question? Why must we be relentless? Should I look for the borders to this poem on the page or in my life? What is it about that downer, that it should leave me so hung over? Why do I sweat so, all the time? Is not what we experience now just one another's limits? In what way is your selfishness a shell, an impenetrable thing? Have I not thus left myself open to such abuse? Why is it that I am unable to separate anger from desire?

Ron Silliman, "Sunset Debris"

how to spot a cylon

Battlestar Season 4 premieres TOMORROW on Sci-Fi!

frakkin' starbucks