Pyrotechnics as lightning strikes the Willis Tower (formerly the Sears Tower) in downtown Chicago, Illinois last night. Photograph: Scott Olson/Getty Images
Once again, whatever you may think is spectacular, the natural world will quietly – or not, in this circumstance – remind you that it can beat that shit effortlessly.
A little – Okay, a lot, but there were deadlines and I overslept – late, but from the Guardian’s Photo Blog:
A copy of ‘Le Poete de l’Enfance’ from 1846 measuring 27mm x 19mm.
Photo by Oli Scarff/Getty Images. And that is, apparently, a real book. That small! I find that both surreal and kind of wonderful. Imagine making that book, never mind reading it.
My favorite thing about “Flick of The Finger,” I think, is that it’s the first track of the second Beady Eye album, BE. Everything about it says that it’s a classic opening track to an album, after all; it has the right mix of excitement – provided here, almost entirely, by the horns, although I find myself weirdly drawn to Liam Gallagher’s half-assed “come on” at 2:00 – and claustrophobia, as if you get the feeling that this is the start of something, instead of a full experience in and of itself. It’s a song that, despite the musical build throughout the entire thing (and it does have an almost classic structure in that way), never quite peaks, but just teases something that remains out of reach.
(Also, again with the musical thievery – There’s Iggy and the Stooges in there, and the spoken word finale is, of course, straight out of “I Am The Walrus” by the Beatles. My favorite reference is the one to the band’s old band, though: “I see the wonder of life and look for the wall,” Liam sings at one point. Ah, was “Wonderwall” really that long ago…?)
A porter takes a nap on a wall in Kathmandu, Nepal. Photograph: Navesh Chitrakar/Reuters
I love the idea that countless people just nap on that wall, all day. I mean, look at the right of the pic: There’s someone else napping, too! It’s not just that one guy! Every major city in the world should have an officially designated nap wall for people to take a load off in the middle of the day.
From the Guardian Photo Blog:
A worker sweeps the floor while people attend a preview of the Luminarium, an inflatable sculpture by British artist Alan Parkinson, before its opening at the United Nations European headquarters in Geneva. Until June 14, diplomats, UN officials, school children and communities will be invited to visit the 1000 square metre structure to think more creatively about how to make the work of the Human Rights Councils better understood through discussions and art performances. Photograph: Denis Balibouse/Reuters
I want to be there.
Don’t always be a wiseguy, Harry. It’s like a plaid jacket that goes good with some outfits, but with others it looks like shit. You want to ask an important question, ask it. Don’t always hide behind a plaid jacket.
Words to remember, and maybe to live by. From Outside The Dog Museum by Jonathan Carroll.
From the New York Times, here.
Just to get this straight: Glenn Greenwald breaks one of the biggest politics stories in years, and the New York Times writes a story that calls him a “blogger” repeatedly, while others who work on the stories are called “reporters,” because… Well, I don’t know, really. Also, the piece points out:
Mr. Greenwald’s experience as a journalist is unusual, not because of his clear opinions but because he has rarely had to report to an editor. He began his blog Unclaimed Territory in 2005 after the news of warrantless surveillance under the Bush administration. When his blog was picked up by Salon, said Kerry Lauerman, the magazine’s departing editor in chief, Salon agreed that Mr. Greenwald would have direct access to their computer system so that he could publish his blog posts himself without an editor seeing them first if he so chose.
These bloggers! They’re not like real reporters! They don’t even have editors!
(Of course, I have editors for my blogs, so maybe the NYT would be more okay with me.)
Ana Marie Cox on the important takeaway: