Μπορείς να δεις αποσπάσματα, φωτογραφίες και ανάλυση εδώ. Για κάποιο λόγο ολόκληρο το site είναι γραμμένο με comic sans, πράγμα που το αδικεί κατάφωρα.

Αυτό.

via

via LA Times

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As Doc approached Downtown L.A., the smog grew thicker, till he couldn’t see to the end of the block. Everybody had their headlights on, and he recalled that somewhere behind him, back at the beach, it was still another classic day of California sunshine. Being on the way to visit Adrian Prussia, he`d decided not to smoke much, so he was at a loss to account for the sudden appearance, rising ahead, of a dark metallic gray promontory about the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. Traffic crept along, nobody else seemed to see it. He thought about Sortilege’s sunken continent, returning, surfacing this way in the lost heart of L.A., and wondered who’d notice it if it did. People in this town saw only what they’d all agreed to see, they believed what was on the tube or in the morning papers half of them read while they were driving to work on the freeway, and it was all their dream about being wised up, about the truth setting them free. What good would Lemuria do them? Especially when it turned out to be a place they’d been exiled from too long ago to remember.

AP Finance was tucked somewhere between South Central and the vestigial river, hometown of Indians and bindlestiffs and miscellaneous drinkers of Midnight Special, up a wasted set of what looked like empty streets, among pieces of old railroad track brickwalled from view, curving away through the weeds. Cut in front and across the street, Doc noted half a dozen or so young men, not loitering or doing substances but poised and tonic, as if waiting for some standing order to take effect. As if there was this one thing they were there to do, one specialized act, and nothing else mattered, because the rest would be taken care of by God, fate, karma, others.

Inside, the woman at the front counter gave Doc the impression of having been badly treated in some divorce settlement. Too much
makeup, hair styled by somebody who was trying to give up smoking, a minidress she had no more idea of how to carry than a starlet did a Victorian gown. He wanted to say, “Are you okay?” but asked to see Adrian instead.

»

Από το Inherent Vice, του Τόμας Πίντσον. To διάβασα. Μου άρεσε. Διάβασε review.

Εκπληκτικό: Ολόκληρη η ταινία γραμμένη στα παλιά Αγγλικά. Δες εδώ σχολιασμό σχετικά με το αν η μετάφραση του «Dude» σε «Knave» ήταν πετυχημένη και άλλα ξεκαρδιστικά.

THE KNAVE: Thou err’st; no man calls me Lebowski. Yet thou art man; neither spirit damned nor wandering shadow, thou art solid flesh, man of woman born. Hear rightly, man!–for thou hast got the wrong man. I am the Knave, man; Knave in nature as in name.

BLANCHE: Thy name is Lebowski.

“This is an extraordinary graphic novel, wildly ambitious in daring to put into words and drawings the life and thought of one of the great philosophers of the last century, Bertrand Russell…A rare intellectual and artistic achievement, which will, I am sure, lead its readers to explore realms of knowledge they thought were forbidden to them.”—Howard Zinn

“This magnificent book is about ideas, passions, madness, and the fierce struggle between well-defined principle and the larger good.”—Barry Mazur, Gerhard Gade University Professor at Harvard University, and author of Imagining Numbers (Particularly the Square Root of Minus Fifteen)

“Logicomix is witty, engaging, stylish, visually stunning, and full of surprising sound effects, a masterpiece in a genre for which there is as yet no name.”—Michael Harris, professor of mathematics at Université Paris 7 and member of the Institut Universitaire de France

Πριν από λίγο καιρό είχαμε πει για τον τύπο που έγραψε το «Υπερηφάνεια και Προκατάληψη και Ζόμπι», χρησιμοποιώντας το 85% του βιβλίου της Τζέιν Όστεν και αλλάζοντας μόνο το υπόλοιπο, μετατρέποντάς το σε μια ιστορία για ζόμπι. Τώρα, επιστρέφει. Δες το τρέιλερ.

Writer Kitty Burns Florey says the art of handwriting is declining so fast that ordinary, joined-up script may become as hard to read as a medieval manuscript.

«When your great-great-grandchildren find that letter of yours in the attic, they’ll have to take it to a specialist, an old guy at the library who would decipher the strange symbols for them,» says Ms Florey, author of the newly-published Script and Scribble: The Rise and Fall of Handwriting.

She argues that children – if not this generation then one soon to come – may grow up using only a crude form of printing for the rare occasions in life they need to communicate by pen.

Παρεμπιπτόντως, δυσκολεύομαι να θυμηθώ πότε έγραψα τελευταία φορά περισσότερες από δυο προτάσεις οπουδήποτε με το χέρι. Πρέπει να έχουν περάσει χρόνια.