Skymall

To all of you who were going to buy my Christmas presents – look no further than the wonder that is Skymall – I’d like one remote-controlled robotic shark, one, one solar powered talking bible and one ‘luv-handleer’ personal exercise machine. And if possible, I’d like all these things purchased at a cruising altitude of 10,000 or higher. Thank you.

This American Life

I’m a long-time fan of This American Life, but hadn’t seen the Showtime adaption of the radio series until now. Extremely well done. You think we’ve solved racism in America ? Think again.
(FYI – this is pretty PG-13 in terms of language – it is on Showtime after all )

BldgBlog

Geoff Manaugh’s BldgBlog is one of those sites about architecture, art and the new urbanism that I love to read, forget about for a while, then come back too after too long of an absence. Some great reads include the recent interview of Canadian tunnel explorer Michael Cook (with amazing photos), Post-residential Venice (which I’ve experienced myself and is truly weird) and an insightful piece on the new Contradiction-filled Green Architecture. Well thought-out and well written.

Two Years On

It’s been two years since Katrina turned a large swath of the gulf coast into mish–mash of gutted towns, empty foundations and broken lives. A place like America is too big to be categorized in one broad stroke – there are micro-cultures, sub units, the parts that make up the whole. Mine is clearly Texas, but we are part of the south and it physically pains me to see what’s happened, or rather what hasn’t happened over the past two years and to know it could happen here as well. To borrow an over-used phrase: the storm washed away more than just houses – it exposed the poor and the desperate living within our own borders. Two years on, they’re still there, still poor, still desperate, and we still haven’t done a damn thing differently. Working at a non-profit has led me to doubt the validity of entitlement programs, but this is just absurd.

We won the WWII, The Cold War, landed on the moon, settled an entire continent, but we can’t get our act together to help our own people.

From about the web
NPR’s highly comprehensive coverage of the anniversary
ACLU’s Broken Promises Report
Hurricane Recovery – Republican Style (Salon)

On this Site
At what point is a city no longer redeemable ?
Moving the Masses
Economic Impact

Three Wars of Iraq

Slate’s take on the war – There’s actually three, two of which we’re not doing so badly in.

Let’s put it like this: An American family that lost a son or a daughter in the defense of free Kurdistan or in the struggle against AQM (al-Qaida in Mesopotamia) could console itself that the death was in a worthwhile cause. The same could not be said for a soldier who fell in some murky street engagement, shot in the back by a uniformed policeman who was doing double duty as a member of a theocratic Shiite militia. Read more…

Also from the war today…
Wind Turbines for War Dollars – Sietch Blog
Iraq Corruption Probe Widens… Again – Mother Jones
Pentagon Denies Increase in Troops’ Suicides – alternet

Flugtag

What’d you do this Saturday ? We (ill-advisedly) stood in the lake and watched people fling themselves off a two story ramp, wishing (particularly given some of my previous projects), that we’d gotten in on the fun. Sponsored by everyones favorite form of legal, liquid crack. See the photos here.

I Am $500 Poorer

This is everywhere today, but in case you were living under a rock, some absolutely magnificent bastards have managed to unlock the iphone, making it possible to use on T-mobile. This poses a massive dilemma for me as I will now have a very difficult time not purchasing a shinny one of my own.

Ask a Stupid Question…

When a dude you don’t know suddenly has his hand on your inner thigh – you’ve done something horribly wrong.

Let me back up. We’re having a lovely evening at the Crown and Anchor, home of beers, burgers and as the summer comes to an end, an overabundance of undergrads from the campus across the street. It’s getting late, the place is thinning out a bit when this guy yells to his friends who are leaving/fleeing, “I totally win gaychicken.”
I look up at this guy who already way up in my pre-designated personal sphere, and asked him what the hell is gay-chicken. In hindsight bad plan. If I’d stopped, thought about the etymological structure of the phrase, taken into account the spiky-beached haircut and also had about two less beers, I would’ve left well enough alone.

“Gay chicken is where two guys try to make each other uncomfortable by acting gay. I’m awesome at it. The first one to flinch loses…” Or it was something like that, because at this point I’m having my inner thigh felt-up by this guy and fight or flight instincts have shut down the hearing. Finally, just before we get to the turn-your-head-and-cough-point, my brain restarts and sees the exit strategy, “Dude you win. Really, you win.”

Rowing

I’m not trying to brag or anything but I’ve been around more than a few of the various out-doorsy scenes around this town. The mountain bikers, road biker, rope climbers, boulderers, gym-rats, running people, tri-people, stoner-backpackers, kayakers – the list goes on. The rowing dock people though, are probably the most interesting (from a people perspective), the most diverse for sure. Old, young, fat, skinny, tall, short – take your pick. The old guys that run the dock are what imagine myself being like as an older cyclist – as knowledgeable as they are cranky. A fine example is Sommers. I don’t know if this is the guy’s first or last name, but he seems really cool until you screw something up (which no matter what you do, you will screw something up around this dude) after which his handlebar mustache just exudes dismay-for-the youth-of tomorrow. Once you get ‘the look’ you’re pretty much left with the options of running away, or drowning yourself in the lake in the hope that your death will at least give him hope for the world, as there will now be one less asshat screwing up his day.

Take yesterday. After spending the entire day recovering from Saturday night, I decide to go for a row. As I’m getting setup I glance up to see what looks like half the 15 to 17-year-old population of Austin, in sit-on-top kayaks heading my way. A part of some ill-conceived youth outing. I imagine it was a similar feeling to the Japanese at Guadalcanal, looking out over the pacific and seeing nothing but American ships and slowly contemplating how monumentally screwed they were. Thus, in my haste to get the hell out of dodge, I didn’t push off from the dock hard enough, while simultaneously some freak gale decided to fire down the lake at precisely the wrong moment.

The result was chaos: I got pushed into two other rowing shells, and passel of giggling high school girls who had less of a clue as to what to do than I did. Finally the trip leader for the kayak excursion essentially tugboated me out of the traffic snarl. Quite humiliating. As I’m getting pushed to freedom, there’s Sommers standing on the dock, staring directly at me – the cause of the wretched clusterfuck . He stands there perfectly still for a moment, while his mustache imperceptibly twitches. Then his mouth flattens into an underscore and he shakes his head ever so slightly, walking away, leaving me to pursue option one of the Sommers-scorn-avoidance plan.

Like I said. It’s an interesting scene.

Wings

Rob sent me a the link to the house in Westlake called Soaring Wings (little over the top on the name). I saw the site work for this a couple of years back and was wondering what the deal was – turned out to be pretty amazing.