As I get older, it only becomes more and more clear I will never read all the books I want to read before I die. There’s just no getting around it. There’s too many books! Even my Amazon Wish List, aka my Amazon “Don’t Want To Read That Much So I Will Put You On This Pointless List” List is swelling at over 300.
This is tough …
I don’t know how many of you out there in the land of the living read PvP. I do. There was a time when I did not ‘get’ why PvP was popular, but now that I’m down with the full continuity I find it consistently funny. I don’t even really mind that it has basically nothing to do with gaming anymore. Kurtz’s deep fluency in the code of pop …
I haven’t kept careful records or anything, but I am willing to stake my journalistic integrity on the claim that at no point in the past 10 years have I had an empty in-box. A few weeks ago, when I came back from a leave of absence, I had a four or five hundred e-mails in there. I’ve been winnowing ever since.
Last week the scroll bar …
That’s the title of Frank Darabont’s unproduced Indy IV script. You know what, it is good. Too bad it pretty much amounts to fan fiction at this point.
This week in Time I wrote a column (which started out as a blog post) about stealing Wi-Fi. It’s here.
The main thing that I don’t think I properly conveyed in the piece is the incredible, psychotic obsessiveness that you develop when chasing a distant Wi-Fi signal. It always begins so well — whenever you join a network on a Mac, it …
I’ve got a deadline, so I’m just embedding linking to the season premier of The Venture Brothers. Whose medium is dying now, TV? Huh? Huh? Not mine!
The following is an unedited transcription of one of Matt Selman’s actual seventh grade homework assignments.
I would like to meet…
I would like to meet Zaphod Beeblebrox from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams for three reasons.
Zaphod has three arms and two heads. I think it would be interesting to meet someone …
Last week I wrote a piece about CAPTCHAs, which is the name for those images of wavy, distorted letters that you sometimes have to retype in order to make the Web give you something you want, like an email address or whatever. The point of them is to prove that you’re not a bot run by spammers, since software is very bad at reading …
OK, forgotten’s probably putting it too strongly. But listen: when I was growing up in the 1980s (cue Grandpa Simpson voice) we didn’t have the Interweb. So when I started reading Alan Moore I read him in almost total isolation — it was my brother who hooked me up, but apart from him I didn’t really have any perspective on Moore’s …
The non-surprise is, obviously, 3G. Everbody wanted 3G, everybody knew they were putting in 3G, then they put in 3G. Yay!
I think the push-style syncing of mail, contacts and calendar, while not all that sexy, will make a huge difference to users. Though boo that you have to pay for it. And ditto the GPS, better audio, better price, …
I’ve never really been one to follow comics writers and artists too closely. It’s a pure laziness thing. When all the smart, informed comics fans were like, Chris Claremont’s scripting on the Dark Phoenix saga is so being outstripped by Byrne’s powerful linework, I was all like, when I grow up I’m going to be Kitty Pryde’s boyfriend. …
Saw it last night, and man, what a snooze. I almost would have preferred a Temple of Doom-style catastrophe — this wasn’t even bad, it was just dull. Since not a single other person on the Internet has blogged about Indy 4, I will now enrich world culture by posting my whining complaints (spoilers follow):