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There can be no survivors.

Associated Press.

Following pneumonia and a heart attack earlier this week.

Rest in peace

Image: Daniel Salo, Wired

This is totally awesome, although I’m sure two dozen kids/grown kids have already poked gored their eyes out with them.

One more small voice in the chorus.

Google is apparently doing OK and has some money to invest in world-changing ideas.

Their project 10 to the 100th is the opportunity for you to submit those world-changing ideas. Submit by Oct 20, 2009.

This has kept me up some nights recently, mostly because I’m arrogant enough to think I have one of those idears, then I go out and Google it, and someone is already doing it, and I get to start over. I have 17 days to get, what, 10x smarter? It’s a task that almost suggests a persistent, altered state.

I’ll either need to sleep on the couch for the home stretch (as I’m doing tonight, because I grew weary of waking up Kelley walking in and out of the bedroom), or bring the laptop in.

Perhaps a worthy idea is a system to allow cats to crawl all over you when you want, and not when you don’t. Seems like a win-win.

Key caps below:

You can do it.

i don’t really have anything else to say at this time.

i picked up A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, got two and a half essays into it, and put it down because it made me feel dumb. I was relaying this to my friend Mark, who asked me what I meant by that. I gave him some bullshit, insincere answer about not having any idea/understanding of what DFW was writing about. Looks like I need to get back to that one, because all that has been said by the Man has been commited. Rest now.

We barely knew ye.

Time to get out.

We all know how “down with the times” I am… but in this rare case I’m being relatively good, as Grindhouse only came out two months ago.

I’ve only seen the first feature, and I can already declare it the greatest film of all time.

It is truly the Citizen Kane of homage-to-seventies-sexploitation-and-violence flicks. And the music rocks.

And Rose MacGowan, back in the Doom Generation days, was a stone, villianous fox. Then she was on Charmed and all that and married the prince of darkness for a while (rebellious teens), and I think had some plastic surgery, and it was like, wha happened? But now she’s here as a go-go dancer, then she get stumped, then they attach a table leg to the stump, which is hot, and for the coup de grace… well… we all know by now.

I’m on the fence as to whether I’m going to even watch Tarantino’s portion (Death-Proof). Kinda don’t want to ruin the perfection.

I know that for some of you, lack of fresh blog content here is tantamount to lack of sufficient oxygen, and I would apologize… but You need to get a life. and i’m speaking to a population of no one. so it’s all ok.

But check this: such sentiment is meaningless in the face of the POWER of the triumphant return of trapped in the closet starting in 7/07.

oh yes. in the past, i’ve alternatively warned against getting trapped in the closet, and embracing ‘trapped in the closet’. if none of this is resonating, go back to the place where it all began, and prepare yourself for what is to come.

I’d like to take a moment and suggest that we all remember her as I saw her when I was a fourteen year-old boy — posing in her prime in Playboy[1].

Please do this as opposed to remembering her torrid marriage to the rich old guy, the torrid fight to get the money, the torrid weight gain and subsequent bizarre reality show, and the torrid death of her first son.

And, now, her own what-I-can-only-suspect- will-be-torrid death. I am a horrible person.

[1] I’m going to leave it at that in terms of level of detail regarding the remembrance of things past.