The roaches New Yorkers encounter are often German cockroaches—Blattella germanica—rather than American ones. The German cockroach is thought to have originated in Southeast Asia. In Germany, it is known as the Russian cockroach. The American cockroach, meanwhile, is native to Africa, and is sometimes referred to as the Bombay canary. This cosmopolitanism is presumably one reason that the cockroach lineage has endured, and that it is likely to keep on doing so long after the museum, New York, and all its Raid-toting inhabitants are gone.
Elizabeth Kolbert, in “Shouts & Murmurs.” The reference to the Carboniferous era reminded me of my own reference to it (also re. the noble cockroach) in the first piece I ever got published.
The church down the block from my building was recently converted into a roller disco called the Church of 8 Wheels. ("Come join D. Miles, Jr., San Francisco’s "GodFather of Skate," and the Holy Rollers of the Church of 8 Wheels, as we get our skate groove on!") (“CLOSED TUES. AUG 26 UNTIL TUES. SEPT. 2 FOR BURNING MAN,” natch.)
In one of the most shocking blockbusters in MLB trade deadline history, the Oakland A’s sent All-Star Yoenis Cespedes and a competitive balance pick to the Boston Red Sox for Cy Young contender Jon Lester, former Athletic Jonny Gomes, less than $1 million, and a gold-plated protective case for Billy Beane’s giant balls.
Graphic designer Victoria Siemer, also known as Witchoria, has digitized the experience of heartbreak. Through a series of images that superimpose Mac error messages onto Polaroid pictures, the Brooklyn-based artist creates intimate narratives using language many computer users encounter every day. The result is surprisingly poetic; the photographs read like poignant one-sentence stories.
My normally messy roommate-for-six-weeks cleaned up before going out of town the other day. The only items remaining on the coffee table: a blue Sharpie, an oversized novelty lighter, and one of the stranger coffee table books I’ve ever seen. I guess this is what passed as voyeuristic/sociological ephemera (and other fancy words) before the internetcamealong.
About six years ago, a teaching colleague shared his favorite break-time creative drawing prompt for kids—Draw two guys fighting using only their beards—and I’ve used it at least once in every class I’ve taught since then. Students get a kick out of it, and the most creative assignments earn…
I’m growing my beard out just so I can do this. (And by “this,” I mean put boxing gloves on it and fight another bearded man who has done the same thing.) (Or shape it into a giant cock & balls. Either one.)
A true gadfly, his goofy nasal voice and ferocious accordion solos serve as a Greek chorus to the hypocrisies and excesses of our age. One thing is certain: Whatever happens, “Weird Al” isn’t going away. His voice will not be silenced.
Weird Al’s new album reminded me of one of my all-time favorite Onion stories. (Don’t forget to click on page from his notebook.)
This is from 1999, by the way. He certainly did not go away.
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