6x6

våffeldagen: make traditional waffles for Swedish Waffle Day (a corruption of the Feast of the Annunciation, Vårfrudagen)

if you run after me, i will go to the playground—the one you call the ‘trashy playground’: the Helicopter Bunny by Elizabeth Hoey, via Duck Soup

roslyn place: a drive down Pittsburgh’s last remaining wooden street, via Nag on the Lake

silent moscow: a meditation in street photography from Hermes Pichon

pass the salt: another very satisfying Rube Goldberg (previously) inspired way to accomplish a task

scholas occurentes: Hadi Partovi with the help of young students taught the Pope how to script a line of computer code, vis Slashdot

lift up the receiver, i'll make you a believer

In addition to permitting a scaffolding hung with the inscription, “So long as God wears a beard, I will be a feminist,” in the city’s cathedral, Innsbrucker Bishop Hermann Glettler (EN/DE) has also allowed artist Manfred Erjautz to install a salvaged wooden crucifix in the sanctuary of the Spitalskirche whose broken arms tell the time. “Your Personal Jesus” will be on display throughout Lent for comtemplation.  More to explore at the links above.  

avon calling

Though more glaring and fraught examples are to be found among the ruling, grifting crime syndicate (here and here especially) of the US, we appreciated the spirit in which the origins of both Cobra and its foil the elite paramilitary unit, G*I* Joe, was shared. Loosely based on conservative pundit William F Buckley (*1925 – †2008), Cobra Commander of the Marvel canon was a used car salesman in Springfield, Anytown America whose brother served on multiple deployments to Vietnam in order to spare his brother from being drafted.
Suffering from post-traumatic stress, Cobra Commander’s brother took towards increasing self-destructive behaviour—ultimately leading to his demise in a car collision. Inconsolable, Cobra Commander blamed the crash on the survivor, another veteran who afterwards sequestered himself from the world and studied the martial arts in Japan. Hungry for vengeance, Cobra Commander contracted the services of an assassin, who mistakenly killed the ninja master rather than the student—persuading the survivor to reenlist later as Snake Eyes. After this debacle, Cobra Commander sought to return to his dealership but his wife discovered what had transpired in Japan and threatened to come forward to the authorities. Cobra Commander abandons his wife and takes their infant son on the road to eke out a living, conning the unsuspecting and setting up a pyramid scheme to attract followers and accrue funds, appealing to the disenfranchised for whom he finds a resonant kinship. Cobra Commander begins wearing a blue hood during his motivational talks to disguise his identity.

symplectic geometries

Via the ever resplendent Everlasting Blört, we are treated to the mathmagic of assistant professor Clayton Shonkwiler, who has transformed his lessons and research into rather beautiful animations to pique interest in his discipline and make the subject more accessible. We are all math people when we foster our feelings about it and seek to apply it to our everyday lives. Much more to explore and learn at Shonkwiler’s website.

pass the dutchie on the left hand side or bong appétite!

Courtesy of Nag on the Lake’s fun and informative curated Sunday Links, we discover among other things that the great-great-granddaughter of etiquette and good-manners maven Emily Post is poised to publish an update which promises to impart poise and grace for any social toking session.
Lizzie Post’s Higher Etiquette supplements one’s finishing school decorum—good manners are about gratitude, respect and inclusion which the author and her ancestor’s institute promote and not about the intimidation or embarrassment which some fancy passing as class—ended with the title instruction or puff-puff-pass, neither of which appear in the guide (one should take three hits of a joint before passing it around).

meshes of the afternoon

This 1943 experimental short film by spouses and creative collaborators Maya Deren (*1917 – †1961) and Alexander Hammid (*1907 - †2004) delivers a surreal round and refrain of motifs that have become the diaphanous displacements for several music videos and directors such as the iconic David Lynch (previously). The directors themselves portraying the two characters whose interior experience cannot be documented for another to see or experience, the plot follows a strange stream of dissociative nightmares where repetitive, simple tasks become outsized in their difficulty and importance, a feature that can be common to dreams, and ends without a settled resolution.