A boing-boing kinda Monday
This is just links to stories that appeared on Boing Boing over the past weekend that I found exceptionally interesting. If you are already a regular visitor of Boing Boing and have already seen all of these stories and are feeling a bit gypped by my Monday linkiness, I'll toss a short story at the end. If the links are everything you hoped for you are welcome to skip the story.
Broadcast Flag is back, this time it covers iPods and PSPs, too
Nonprofit alternative to CDDB gets its first deal
David Byrne: boycott DRM
Cozy blanket with sleeves: the Slanket
Maker of Zicam cold cure agrees to pay $12 million to settle class action
Tom Judd's Everyday book of drawings
Cops organize videogame competitions against troublesome kids
Okay, story... story... hmmm. Here's one that once again demonstrates my odd brain.
Ages ago, when I was a teenager (somewhere twixt 16 and 18) I had a best friend by the name of Jeremy Robinson. I only had a motorcycle for transportation, so whenever we wanted to go anywhere in "comfort" we had to ride in his monstrous GMC Jimmy. This was an SUV before there were SUVs. It was freaking huge. A tank. NOT a chick magnet.
Now, Jeremy liked to drive a bit fast. On one occasion, we were flying down Platte Ave. – a road he liked to take fast when he had a passenger because of the dips on the passenger side caused by the crossing streets and the fact that he had no working seatbelts (makes head go bonk-a-bonk) – and I was curious about just how fast we were going. So I looked at my watch. As if it would tell me. I made the mistake of letting him know what I'd just done. He thought that was the funniest thing in the world. Furthermore, it happened at least two more times and each time it was reflex action. I didn't know why I was doing it, but in my mind I fully expected to be able to see how fast I was traveling on my watch.
With the technology we now have, GPS and what not, it wouldn't surprise me if that turns into a feature for a watch or other portable device. It'll let you know how fast you are going. Wait and see.
What brought all this back from the depths of my memory was something that happened a few months back. I wanted to write about it then, but kept forgetting. Well, no more buddy!
Here's what it was: I was driving down 8th Street, returning from lunch, and there was a woman driving along in front of me wrapped in a cloud of total oblivion. She was just going along, doo-dee-doo, crossing the dividing line, slowing down for no apparent reason, putting on her make-up, tossing clowns from her sunroof, etc.
When I was finally able to get around her, I looked over at her because I WANTED TO SEE WHAT COLOR OF STUPID SHE WAS! Somehow, in my loopy noggin, I expected her to be glowing a specific color of stupid, likely somewhere high up on the chart. Don't ask me what the colors are; it didn't work. But I was expecting it to, in much the same way that I was expecting to see how fast Jeremy was driving in my watch. And now my hope is, at some point down the road, we will have the technology to visually gage the stupidity levels of the people around us. If that day comes I'm betting it will be a scary, yet colorful day.
Broadcast Flag is back, this time it covers iPods and PSPs, too
Nonprofit alternative to CDDB gets its first deal
David Byrne: boycott DRM
Cozy blanket with sleeves: the Slanket
Maker of Zicam cold cure agrees to pay $12 million to settle class action
Tom Judd's Everyday book of drawings
Cops organize videogame competitions against troublesome kids
Okay, story... story... hmmm. Here's one that once again demonstrates my odd brain.
Ages ago, when I was a teenager (somewhere twixt 16 and 18) I had a best friend by the name of Jeremy Robinson. I only had a motorcycle for transportation, so whenever we wanted to go anywhere in "comfort" we had to ride in his monstrous GMC Jimmy. This was an SUV before there were SUVs. It was freaking huge. A tank. NOT a chick magnet.
Now, Jeremy liked to drive a bit fast. On one occasion, we were flying down Platte Ave. – a road he liked to take fast when he had a passenger because of the dips on the passenger side caused by the crossing streets and the fact that he had no working seatbelts (makes head go bonk-a-bonk) – and I was curious about just how fast we were going. So I looked at my watch. As if it would tell me. I made the mistake of letting him know what I'd just done. He thought that was the funniest thing in the world. Furthermore, it happened at least two more times and each time it was reflex action. I didn't know why I was doing it, but in my mind I fully expected to be able to see how fast I was traveling on my watch.
With the technology we now have, GPS and what not, it wouldn't surprise me if that turns into a feature for a watch or other portable device. It'll let you know how fast you are going. Wait and see.
What brought all this back from the depths of my memory was something that happened a few months back. I wanted to write about it then, but kept forgetting. Well, no more buddy!
Here's what it was: I was driving down 8th Street, returning from lunch, and there was a woman driving along in front of me wrapped in a cloud of total oblivion. She was just going along, doo-dee-doo, crossing the dividing line, slowing down for no apparent reason, putting on her make-up, tossing clowns from her sunroof, etc.
When I was finally able to get around her, I looked over at her because I WANTED TO SEE WHAT COLOR OF STUPID SHE WAS! Somehow, in my loopy noggin, I expected her to be glowing a specific color of stupid, likely somewhere high up on the chart. Don't ask me what the colors are; it didn't work. But I was expecting it to, in much the same way that I was expecting to see how fast Jeremy was driving in my watch. And now my hope is, at some point down the road, we will have the technology to visually gage the stupidity levels of the people around us. If that day comes I'm betting it will be a scary, yet colorful day.
Comments
Andy K: See? And I really want one of those.