"I'm the kid who thought we'd someday be lovers / always held out that time would tell ... "

" ... as we're walking toward the train station / there's a whispering rainfall / cross the boulevard you slip your hand in mine / in the distance the train calls ... "

Signal boost: How to Discuss Race and Racism Without Acting Like a Complete Jerk:

Intentions aren't the only thing that matters. Suppose I step on someone's foot. They say, "hey, ouch, you stepped on my foot." My proper response is, "Gosh, I'm sorry. I'll be more careful." Depending on the situation, I might add something like, "I was looking for my kid's sneaker that she always kicks off," or "I've got something in my contact," etc. My proper response is not, "Well, I didn't mean to step on your foot, so why are you angry?!"

And since I'm linking, this week it's more like a plate of stir-fried greens -- we've been getting a lot from our CSA:

• Clay Shirky on the difference between information overload and filter failure. He has some chewy points to make in there. (via)
  
  
• Fun with shiny happy mud balls.
  
  
• The last paragraph of the review is, uh, more than a little bizare, but the book looks like a fascinating peek at life in North Korea after generations of propaganda. If accurate, I do not envy South Korea's job of integration, should they get the chance to reunify. (via)
  
  
• Further proof that inequality hurts everyone, including those on top of the scrum. (via)
  
  
• A collection of urban legends from late 19th century Japan including, yes, phantom trains.
  
  
• Photo of a lonely snowbound restaurant in Hokkaido.
  
  
• For connoisseurs of crashingly bad verse translations, Matt at No-Sword brings us the 1890 McClatchie translation of No plays into the style of The Ingoldsby Legends (the most famous of which is "The Jackdaw of Reimes").
  
  
• Sometimes, maps lie. Like that one of New Amsterdam? It's really Lisbon.
  
  
• A 1903 silent film version of Alice in Wonderland -- print's not perfect, but it's still just as trippy as you might expect. (via)

" ... I'm the kid who has this habit of dreaming / sometimes it gets me in trouble too / but the truth is I could no more stop dreaming / than I could make them all come true"

---L.

"I'm the kid who thought we'd someday be lovers / always held out that time would tell ... "

" ... as we're walking toward the train station / there's a whispering rainfall / cross the boulevard you slip your hand in mine / in the distance the train calls ... "

Signal boost: How to Discuss Race and Racism Without Acting Like a Complete Jerk:

Intentions aren't the only thing that matters. Suppose I step on someone's foot. They say, "hey, ouch, you stepped on my foot." My proper response is, "Gosh, I'm sorry. I'll be more careful." Depending on the situation, I might add something like, "I was looking for my kid's sneaker that she always kicks off," or "I've got something in my contact," etc. My proper response is not, "Well, I didn't mean to step on your foot, so why are you angry?!"

And since I'm linking, this week it's more like a plate of stir-fried greens -- we've been getting a lot from our CSA:

• Clay Shirky on the difference between information overload and filter failure. He has some chewy points to make in there. (via)
  
  
• Fun with shiny happy mud balls.
  
  
• The last paragraph of the review is, uh, more than a little bizare, but the book looks like a fascinating peek at life in North Korea after generations of propaganda. If accurate, I do not envy South Korea's job of integration, should they get the chance to reunify. (via)
  
  
• Further proof that inequality hurts everyone, including those on top of the scrum. (via)
  
  
• A collection of urban legends from late 19th century Japan including, yes, phantom trains.
  
  
• Photo of a lonely snowbound restaurant in Hokkaido.
  
  
• For connoisseurs of crashingly bad verse translations, Matt at No-Sword brings us the 1890 McClatchie translation of No plays into the style of The Ingoldsby Legends (the most famous of which is "The Jackdaw of Reimes").
  
  
• Sometimes, maps lie. Like that one of New Amsterdam? It's really Lisbon.
  
  
• A 1903 silent film version of Alice in Wonderland -- print's not perfect, but it's still just as trippy as you might expect. (via)

" ... I'm the kid who has this habit of dreaming / sometimes it gets me in trouble too / but the truth is I could no more stop dreaming / than I could make them all come true"

---L.