Something I've just noticed in the last few weeks: there are lots of full-length feature films on YouTube now, doubtlessly illegally. Some of them are awesome:
Some of them are stupid:
O Brother, Where Art Thou? has been there for a while, but I'm not sure how long they last in general.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Woof Blitzer
Wouldn't a professional reporter/interview guy, just by standing around, pick up enough to at least look competent at Jeopardy!?
Friday, January 27, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Patriotic marketing gimmicks
Various people had their hands on it, adding as little as a word or two, but the credit for the bulk of the pledge goes to Francis Julius Bellamy (May 18, 1855 – August 28, 1931), a Baptist minister from New York. Bellamy had some interesting political ideas — he was a Christian Socialist who believed in the equal distribution of economic resources in accordance with the teachings of Jesus, but not the distribution of voting rights to women or immigrants.Who Wrote the Pledge of Allegiance?
By 1891, Bellamy was tired of his ministry and accepted a job from one of his congregants, Daniel S. Ford, owner and editor of Youth’s Companion, a nationally circulated magazine for adolescents. Bellamy was hired to help out the magazine’s premium department, where he worked on a campaign to sell American flags to public schools as a way to solicit subscriptions. By the end of the year, the magazine had sold flags to some 26,000 schools. But there were still more than a few holdouts.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
a little more than halfway though, so what have we learned?
"The coldest gaze is that which you cast upon yourself" - Dr. Trent Stone
Well, I've learned that my searing passion for Michael Bolton led me to immensely overvalue Bolton Wanderers. And common sense led me to immensely undervalue Norwich and Swansea. Other than that, it's not that far off. This is how I gain your trust.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
robot fish
best YouTube comment:
"I COMMAND YOU IN THE NAME OF THE DARK LORD TO SPILL THE BLOOD OF THE INNOCENT....
...diddy dum diddy dooo"
Friday, January 13, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
whistle
Whistling is a funny skill: folks who can whistle, wonder how anyone could have a problem with it. Folks who can't, wonder how anyone could ever produce such a sound. For those of you who can't, consider learning--a quick, loud, penetrating whistle has many useful applications and can be mastered with relative ease. (Note: there's nothing here on whistling Dixie or any other tuneful amusement.)How to whistle loudly
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Tuesdays with John
John stumbles forward through the restaurant. He is walking towards a stage upon which sits a small video screen, a microphone, and a large grey box with a keyboard and speaker in the front. He ascends the stage and opens a large blue binder. He flips rapidly through the songbook. He is barefoot and wearing a University of Alaska sweatshirt over what appears to be a youth karate uniform. His eyes are red and bleary -- he has not slept in two days, in preparation for what is to come.
His eyes finally light upon the page he is searching for, and John smiles a small smile. He punches into the keyboard three numerals, and the screen above it responds. Text appears over the background image of a small stream running through an autumnal forest: "486 - ARTIST: SHANIA TWAIN - SONG SELECTION: MAN! I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN!"
The machine begins to produce synthesized, beeping sounds. John holds the microphone up to his mouth, lips parted slightly before he begins. His mouth is dry, but he knows he must only sing for a short while. Outside a dog howls, and a baby begins to cry.
His eyes finally light upon the page he is searching for, and John smiles a small smile. He punches into the keyboard three numerals, and the screen above it responds. Text appears over the background image of a small stream running through an autumnal forest: "486 - ARTIST: SHANIA TWAIN - SONG SELECTION: MAN! I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN!"
The machine begins to produce synthesized, beeping sounds. John holds the microphone up to his mouth, lips parted slightly before he begins. His mouth is dry, but he knows he must only sing for a short while. Outside a dog howls, and a baby begins to cry.
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