Building explodes and collapses in East Village: 2nd @ 7th street. At least 30 injured and more still trapped.
Any advice on scanning docs with an IOS device? The built-in mail app, which Mom uses, seems to automagically destroy ... rescale ... images captured with the internal camera. "Hey, here's a handy thumbnail of that doc!" There are a few scanner apps that generate PDFs. But she doesn't do this often enough to make learning a new app very feasible, unless it's super simple.
Is there a way to tell the built-in app not to muck with the picture?
This is all because airprint isn't a two way app. Who woulda thunk that a tablet computer would need to be a computer?
pretty funny tweet by some george rr martin looking wannabee...
i mean... what could go wrong?
clear!!
dont forget to remember where you were when the james corden era begins tonight!! he seems to have a decent pedigree from british tv but i am predicting failure. that said, i doubt seth meyers is exactly turning the world on with his smile.
do the british ever tire of stonehenge documentaries?
It wasn't as strange as it might seem for the author to coin OK as an abbreviation for "all correct." There was a fashion then for playful abbreviations like i.s.b.d (it shall be done), r.t.b.s (remains to be seen), and s.p. (small potatoes). They were the early ancestors of OMG, LOL, and tl;dr. A twist on the trend was to base the abbreviations on alternate spellings or misspellings, so "no go" was k.g. (know go) and "all right" was o.w. (oll write). So it wasn't so surprising for someone come up with o.k. for oll korrect. What is surprising is that it ended up sticking around for so long while the other abbreviations faded away.
i just liked this because lionel messi (far left) looks like he is dressed for class pictures compared to his mostly brazilian teammates. also, none of them is taller than 5'7". not quite the fashion plates as some nba players but at least a c+ for effort.
what could this mean for spring break?
took me a minute....
Of all of Foucault’s claims that Zamora criticizes, it is this last one he believes poses the most danger. As long as the left continues to favor fights against marginality over fights against exploitation, it will remain, as Foucault did, a hopeless pawn in neoliberalism’s advance. Zamora is not alone in making this argument. Indeed, his is part of a larger view of the last 40 years that sees the rise of late-20th-century capitalism as being integrally linked with a loss of the left’s critical edge, either through the process of co-optation by the status quo, or isolation into provincial academic circles. It is this view of recent history that motivates Zamora’s attempt to Criticize Foucault. In order to break out of the left’s spiral downward, he believes, it is important to pinpoint the moment at which the left took a wrong turn so as to reverse that turn’s catastrophic effects.
Can't seem to grab the light in photo's...This is pea shoot chicken broth with chive pork meatballs and chopped spring garlic, leek, fennel, bok choy, and two rabe's
For most of the last century, America’s cultural landscape—its fashion, art, music, design, entertainment—changed dramatically every 20 years or so. But these days, even as technological and scientific leaps have continued to revolutionize life, popular style has been stuck on repeat, consuming the past instead of creating the new.
time to break out those hannukah bush ornaments, people! winter is back!! or is this just one giant game of thrones promo? someone get a snowflake under a microscope, stat!!! damn you, jon snow. you know noothin'.
pretty good reviews overall for netflix latest drama bloodlines (out now) but a mixed bag from those critics i generally appreciate. its a dysfunctional family drama from the creators of damages set in the florida keys with an evolving murder scenario over the course of the season. stars the dad from friday night lights, kyle chandler, sissy spacek, linda cardellini a lot of actors ive never heard of, a few appearances from chloe sevigny and one from sam shepard.
On a country road not far from Santa Fe, a white BMW sedan came flying along. Not more than six inches above the steering wheel, the piercing face of one of the most remarkable heads of our time was fixed upon the road ahead. There was a glimpse of close‑cut gray hair, a strong jaw, cheeks the color of a McIntosh apple, a face for all weathers. Hardly had the vision passed than a friend said, "Who on earth was that? She looked like Beethoven's sister." "Not at all," I replied. "That is Agnes Martin, the painter." "Agnes Martin?" he said. "The celebrated recluse? The painter of abstract altarpieces? The one who breathes air too fine and too thin for the rest of us? Didn't you see those formidable forearms? This had to be someone else."
