And here’s an item from Lileks:
An interesting story from the AP — but only for the headline. Read the story. Read the headline. Find the concerned analyst.
Partly this is because I love books. I own over six hundred of them, and they span a wide variety of genres—
Since everything in the store was at least 20% off, I ended up buying nine books: Mike Nelson’s satirical novel Death Rat, Sara Douglass’ fantasy The Wayfarer Redemption (which sounds oddly like the title for a certain prison movie…), Christopher Paolini’s young adult fantasy Eragon, Roger Ebert’s The Great Movies, Robert Rodriguez’ diary of guerilla moviemaking Rebel Without a Crew, the “How to Draw Manga” book Making Anime (which guides the reader through the production process at AIC, the anime studio that made Tenchi Muyo!, El Hazard, and many other anime classics), the Berlitz
By the time Saturday was over, I’d read Ebert’s The Great Movies and most of Rodriguez’s Rebel Without a Crew. The former is a very handy reference to classic films, why they’re classics, and their relevance for modern film viewers. It’s also wonderful to have all the
Rodriguez wrote a simply inspiring book. Most of it is simply his diary as he wrote, filmed, edited, released, and shopped an action film called El Mariachi at a total production cost of $7,000. The rest is a personal note to the reader, a “Ten Minute Film School” that provides some very basic information about film cameras, and repeatedly exonerates the reader to just go out and film something. His theme is that ordinary people can make
(For the record, Desperado and Once Upon a Time in Mexico are both sequels to El Mariachi.)
And now, more VR story.
Thomas flexed his fingers, feeling the luxurious slip of the black leather gloves caress his hands. The gloves were heavily wired, but the wires were so
He sighed in contentment, smiling at the gloves. This felt good. He was back in his chosen environment.
A fringe of blonde hair leapt up from behind a nearby cluster of servers and routers, followed by the head and shoulders of a teenaged boy. He had the desperate energy and rapid,
“So, ya like it?” he asked, his words coming in machine gun bursts as he ran his fingers over various switches and scanned blinking lights for a dozen different
Thomas grunted. Youngsters like this one just annoyed him. This kid was probably the persona behind a hundred different forum hacker aliases and script kiddies.
Doodlehopper walked up, cradling a mug of something hot between her hands, her face doing a poor job of masking worry. Now she was Trinity crossed with Florence Henderson.
He didn’t want to ask why she hadn’t volunteered to go in with him. It was odd. But he knew that if he asked, and she’d simply forgotten, then she’d insist on going in. Best to let it lie.
He looked over at the teen, who was now squinting into the screen of an ancient