Beached Wail

Fortunately I'm in the business of pleasing no one but myself (and the poor, hungry, disadvantaged, etc.) so your panting comments of disappointment fall on crossed legs. Still, I hear your pain even if I don't feel it so I offer up my original idea to commemorate Lock leaving Gawker. Ladies and gentlemen, without context or explanation, I offer the original Bloghaüs Business Plan as drafted by Dennis Crowley with the input of the usual suckholes. Watch the dots connect and explode.

Operation: Summer House 2005
February 1, 2005

Overview

In the past couple years, weblogs have emerged as the most significant new form of Internet media since the creation of the web. High-profile blogs now draw hundreds of thousands of daily visitors—not to mention mainstream advertisers.

Among the most prominent of these blogs is the circle of New York City bloggers, a group that approximately 20 individual weblogs draw over 100,000 unique visitors a day and over 2 million pageviews a month. The group is young (ages 21-34), media-connected— frequently appearing in the pages of the New York Times, New York Magazine, and Wired Magazine, among others—and recognized as highly influential within their sphere.

For the summer of 2005, the major players in the New York City weblog scene are teaming up to go where no bloggers have gone before: the Hamptons. The result is the BLOGGER SUMMER HOUSE 2005, an environment where new ideas, trends, and memes are created, circulated—and blogged. From the home base—a summer house on Long Island—the resident bloggers are undertaking a group blog that will document the goings-on in the house, and the Hamptons summer lifestyle.

The Opportunity

Opportunities to sponsor the BLOGGER SUMMER HOUSE 2005 and its related weblog are being made available on a high profile, limited basis.

Though the concept of a sponsored Hamptons house is not new, the concept of documenting it on an ongoing basis, all summer long on a weblog, is. Sponsors would participate in the house itself, supplying goods and branding materials for distribution, use, and display. Sponsors will also be featured as advertisers and sponsors on the BLOGGER SUMMER HOUSE blog, which will be written by the house residents.

The house blog will feature a minimum of 25 posts per week (averaging 5 post per day, Monday through Friday) from different authors. The content of the posts would focus on house activities while also telling the larger narrative of summer in an exclusive resort community. Digital photographs will compliment the posts, assuring sponsors frequent placement and mention on the site.

It is expected that the convergence of media interest in blogging, and the annual fascination with the Hamptons, will result in significant offline media coverage for the website. Further, given the resident bloggers connections in the Internet Media world, the buzz on the net about the project should be significant.

Cast of Characters

The BLOGGER SUMMER HOUSE 2005 counts among its residents many of the most well-known, influential bloggers in New York City (see Appendix A).

It's expected that the house will have between six and ten guests per week. Guests from the New York media, blog, tech and music scenes will also appear as houseguests on a regular basis.

The content of the posts to the summer house weblog will be exclusive. Each contributor will promote his or her participation by linking to the summer house weblog from his or her own personal site.

Sponsorship

Sponsorships are a combined product/advertising opportunity.

The house blog will be designed to support three placement opportunities for advertisers over a three-month period (June, July, August). Note: August includes the first two weeks of September including Labor Day.

The cost per each sponsor is $15,000 plus product (as the sponsor sees fit), or $50,000 for a single sponsor.

Appendix A: Cast of Characters

The cast of characters would include, but would not be limited to bloggers from:

[redacted]

Sorry, I can't bring myself to show this list but "The Real Janelle" was on it so you know we meant business.

The Replacements - "Somethin' to Dü"

Ego-Terrorism: The Last Days of Blogging

Today is Lockhart Steele's last as a Gawker Media employee, though a "round of funding" for Curbed (it's even funnier when you type it) from Denton will keep them snugger than Steve Perry's balls in spandex. Sure, I could speak of his job performance, if I knew what he did (legally contracted to say that), but I think an image tells the story much better: Gawker, Defamer, Wonkette, well, you get the pictures.

But I will not trounce on the guy's legacy. How could I? His trust fund (scratch that one off the checklist) is bigger than mine and he got to bang a lot of chicks he had no business banging. Instead, I will remember the good time(s). Like this.

One moment I will share is an urban legend of professional blogging - the day I quit Gridskipper. Lock was doing a decent job of managing my touch-n-go nerves, which set in on day 3 after realizing I had no desire to be blogging about travel, but he could do nothing in the middle of week 2 when I calmly closed my laptop at 11am in a Tribeca loft and turned to him to say, "I'm done."

I then walked out and through a Chinese New Year parade on my way home, called my mom and cried. Or maybe she cried, hard to remember. There was one witness to my exit scene, Maxwell Gillingham-Ryan of Apartment Therapy and I hope he tells his grandkids about it one day.

And with that, even though he once accused me of "terrorism" and had the nerve to say my blogging pursuits were ego-driven (uh, what's the point of all this shit we do?), I wish Lock the same departing fanfare. It's OK to cry.

Transformers: Protect, Destroy, Inform

Credit (begrudgingly): Crain's cover, Monday June 25

The transformer explosion in the Bronx yesterday afternoon (even if there really wasn't one) that caused power disruptions along the city's East Side was a fitting metaphor for how the story broke. Old media was slow to respond, the information distribution grid has been blown to bits. Who was first to report? You'd have to look at the YM Dodgeball HottWire (3:47pm) for that answer. Subscribe here. And when the 45 minute nightmare was over, we were also first on the scene to announce:

power just came back on. we survived. community held together. bless all.

One devoted reader* responded, "you broke that story half hour before anyone else touched it." That, my friends, is the power of citizen media - it never dims.

Related: Even in Blackouts posted on Krucoff.com on June 27, 2005. SPOOKY.

*Okay, it was Brian Van but cut me some slack!

Sneak Preview from Chop Chop #7

Sweater Weather

The promise of truly "wired" home appliances goes back to the 90s when a web-enabled refrigerator seemed like a good and plausible idea - though it goes without saying but I'm saying it anyway, all web-enabled ideas back then were good and plausible. So how many people are using them today? I have no idea, but let's go with two and one of them is Mark Cuban who stores it with cold hard cash and chocolate bars. When the mobile bug attacked, Internet mortality rates would forever be changed and some dreamed of SMS as the on/off switch to our lives. Or maybe they didn't, revisionist history is a convenient prop.

This brings me to the current problem: it's fuckin' hot outside. I sweat so much I take cold showers in the winter to keep my body temperature down. When summertime rolls, I concede all effort and play the part of a grown man skipping over lawn sprinklers and past the spray of fire hydrants. After a long day at work where I am forced to sit in a bucket of ice water, I would prefer to walk into a comfortably pre-adjusted apartment. I am not person who one would say is "like clock-work" so a timer-enabled appliance is not ideal. For the third consecutive summer I have asked Dennis "Mr. MoSoSo" Crowley to mod my air conditioner so I can remotely control it by phone. I get a "busy" signal from him every time. What I want is to be able to send a text message when I'm about 15 minutes from home to turn on my AC. I will demonstrate.

The commute home. I am probably playing Zuma here but I will pause the game to text my AC unit, "Hey chillax, start revving at the spirit of 71."


"Certainly sir, today was a scorcher. I almost leapt from this edge of despair onto the midget fortune teller."


Good times at YM HQ, relaxing coolly with the fam.

Knock Knock. Who's There? (Not Keith) Emerson Nice...

Video: "Belinda Bedekovic is from Zagreb, Croatia and has been playing keyboards since she was 3 years old. She is reportedly, one of the fastest keyboard players in the world."

Is there anything sexier than an Eastern Bloc keytar player?

In the Laze of an Empty Afternoon

Q: Where do you summer? A: Granite Springs, thanks for asking.

Perpetual Content Machine over on the 92Y Blog: Mike Bloomberg Podcast, Yoko Ono: Is There An Illustrator in the House? and Alex Ross's iPod playlists.

What's the Story, Mooring Glory? (Navel Architecture. Again.)

"It's easy to save what the cannery pays cause there ain't no way to spend it."
-Isaac Brock

I have seen 99's bait box and it is full of overgrown minnows, MINI manuals, shattered shards of shad, shiners and Shiner Bock, etc. Though I usually stick to the surface with purse seines and a mellow afternoon brew, I try to cast my safety nets wide enough to bankroll lesser schools of deeper thought that are worthy of consideration. (Sorry Antioch, you're not not landlocked.) I rescue what I can - usually the legal limit, not a simple feat with underdeveloped hands - and throw back the rest for next season. Always leave them needing more, right?

I keep an atrophy case on display in the den to remind me to remind you of my charitable successes and more importantly, others' failures. I wish I could say there was a "catch" but the only thing deadly here is the aftertaste of sailor sonnets that can't be sung. Truer than blue-tongue, as 99 alluded to, I did my bidding on this bounty (#6) to the tune of 1,750 clams but to reel someone like John Hodgman on deck without snagging his dorsal tie on the outboard motor would ultimately take twice that amount plus a grinder's fee.

All is not lost of course. I am proud of my effort to save the sehr gut ship McSweeney's and while this means I have not contributed directly, I am fairly certain my auction acumen added another $1000 to their table book coffers. I plan to use my still pocketed pro-seeds of change to fund an institute that teaches math skills to the sons and daughters of urban pier fishermen. I'll probably name it after Jimmy Page.

Modest Mouse - "Grey Ice Water"

Chop Chop

New episode featuring Calisha Jenkins (stalk her?) and good ole Stinky Butt.

*Rated R for content and language.

We cut animals for fun and sew them together for more fun.

It Probably Has Something To Do With Passover

And apparently after all these years they still enjoy rubbing shit in your face. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to Rye Playland to help a future eldest sibling understand humility, patience and the finer points of log flume riding.

[via family-wide email with the message "who did not know this?"]

YM on the Street

Car Jumps Sidewalk, Hits 2 People On Upper East Side

I SAW THIS HAPPEN. IT WAS "WILD" - JUST LIKE 1010 WINS DESCRIBES IT. Huge police presence. They eventually stormed an apartment building and dragged out a 350-lb teenager.

Life, man, it can be so real sometimes.

Smash Your Head on the Punk Planet

Left marooned for all eternity in the center of a dead planet. [via Rex]

I dunno, even with defections on the scale of Larry Livermore I never made the switch from MRR. If that ever implodes, I'll burn my Aus-Rotten records.

Schoolhouse Rock - "Interplanet Janet"

lastnightsbenefit: water

Just another night on the social charity circuit.


Lauren Bush: "What are you going to do - shoot me? Shoot me. I would pay you to shoot my family! I would consider it a blessing."


Iggy Pop: "They told me I was one of them, and I...the wine, chocolates, cigars, style...I swallowed it. I swallowed it, I swallowed all of it. And they handed me their shit. I have no history. I have no memory. I'm a fool."


General Jessica Stam: "I commanded no mascara!"


Jared Kushner: "I think if people see this footage, they'll say Oh, my God, that's horrible. And then they'll go on eating their dinners."


John Buffalo Mailer: "Many of you know influential people abroad, you must call these people. We must shame them into sending help."


Hotel Rwanda director Terry George, trying to auction off tickets to the Hamptons Social concert series for $15,000: "Anyone? No one? We'll personally introduce you to Prince! No? Screw you all, I'll keep them myself."

A Long Short

I forget which one, but one of those old Gawker Blogorrhea regulars - who you never actually clicked on unless there was a certain promise of possible nudity - had a post on how to alienate your audience. Very amateur stuff. Photos of herpes sores and other epidermal oddities if I remember correctly. I thought, my friend, you have it all wrong. Cheap gagging works better without so much sugar on the spoon. At YM we specialize in reader alienation and to a lesser extent, eating utensils. We ignore the pre-'05 borders and build this wall with the baked-in purpose to weed out the undesirables. They are the ones we let keep guard.

A more effective route to making your blog an island, without employing all those cool self-mutilation tricks, is to hammer on a few notes which serve no one: repetitive blog bashing (I suggest picking one target and sticking at it for YEARS), endless self/friend promotion - take credit for everything (oh I won the DATEHOLE Knocked-Up contest and they called me the "VD of blogging"!) and don't be afraid to include non-achievements like links to a photo gallery of a wild drunk night out (you're cool, tell the world!), baby pics (have we gone there? I don't think so but I'll put it on the agenda) and there are the new classics which involve rogue taxidermy, obnoxious philanthropy and posts that explain your blogging process.

If you're highly advanced, you can even alienate contributors to your blog. You know, those people who toil infrequently, almost never, yet selflessly with no hope of proper acknowledgment no matter how many times you try to convince people you have a group blog. Also, promo flyers like the one below work. 99 is probably tunneling to Ohio right now.


Trace points out that our "short shorts" trend is catching on. I inform him that one of my earliest memories of Vice magazine was an article years ago on Electroclash. I'm not sure if it was at the beginning or end of its initial Williamsburg run but there was a line about "bald pussies peeking out of short skirts." The imagery kinda sticks on ya.

Disgusting Fun

I can't really describe what you missed in the first CHINATOWN GARBAGE TAXIDERMY TOUR, or maybe you just don't want me to.

My favorite thing about the night was when we started out the tour. I planned it so that we would hit my favorite spot for dead fish in the city. This was supposed to be the big BANG that really would show people how much you can really find (a couple weeks ago I found 9 small sharks in this location!) But just as we were rounding the corner, the garbage men were heaving all the riches into the back of their truck. NOOOOOO!!! But lucky for us, the stacks of fish refuse right next door were not under their contract and we were free to rummage.

A big shout out to '99' who showed up for drinks after the tour at the bar. He met the 3 (count 'em 3) participants in the tour. Of course, the irony was that one of the folks is a girl I'm dating and the other two are artists who already scavenge dead animals.

Oh my, the glee folks! The joy felt by the soul when you know you really have hit upon something lasting and putrid! But also quite sew-able.

On the 3rd and final stop of the tour, frog heads are always easy to find. What's the location? I can't say that here, but you can find out on the next CHINATOWN GARBAGE TAXIDERMY TOUR scheduled for July 12th, 2007. Read more.

For H. Dub

Who: Malalai Joya and the Enemies of Happiness. Sorry I'm late. Democracy was a bitch.

What: Creative Zionism as transfusion, the olive trees are AB positive.

Where: New York Cares has invited me to a special party in Tribeca tonight for heroes. I'm much too modest to accept that designation but in a city without telephone booths, I advocate change in a bathroom.

When: Adam Stein is in the running for Glamour Jake? I don't know his platform but reformed shoplifters are some of the most trusted people in the world.

Why: Everything's Cool. (Make a reference to your vinyl collection.)


How: You Fell Down.

One More To-Do: Trace Wears Short Shorts

Yes! Bite your lip, that's a fine looking photo* of YM friend and VBS.tv's Trace Crutchfield! Check out his Toxic Brooklyn on a Lower East Side roof tonight. It makes sense.

*We have wallet-size copies for sale, complete with handwritten high school suicide notes.

Crossword Puzzle Not Included

"I decided some time ago I'm just not going to talk about this [Iraq war] anymore because I want those troops to have a chance to win even if they have to shoot some people I don't think need being shot at any given moment. But even if they have to do things that people here don't want them to do in order to win - just leave them alone, let them win. Having said that, and studiously trying to pay attention to other things that attract our attention, like the thought of Paris Hilton on a jail toilet without a door worried about whether someone is going to take a picture..."
-John Gibson, Fox News (see: shitbag)

YM Weekend To-Do
·Friday: Apples in Stereo and The Sharp Things play Housing Works benefit.
·Saturday: We'll be rockin' Nazareth.
·Sunday: Telling dad that his gift is crap and awesome.

The Blog The FBI Doesn't Want You To Read

In 1860, Chinese immigrants looking to pad their New American living while working on the RR all the live long day could forfeit their five-minute "sandwich in the shade" breaks to scratch the backs of horses used as props for a notion of mail delivery romanticism from St. Joseph, Missouri to Sacramento, California. The additional wages were small, but if you excuse the phrase, kicks were big. No less than five of these back scratchers were killed a week due to unpredictable horse jolts, which to be fair, was less than fatal accidents caused by errant spikes and steel hammers lacking the appropriate amount of pine tar.

Ten Chinese fingers, with nails meticulously maintained at varying lengths and shapes, were the Swiss Army Knife of the 19th Century. (Indeed, Edward Scissorhands is based on the mythic John Henry who in turn was based on a mythic Chinaman who bewildered labor advocates everywhere.) It wasn't even certain that the horses benefited from this itchy exercise before a long haul across the Western states carrying leather bags filled with get-well-soon letters, but it was cheaper to pay the unquestioning workers two bits than feed them roast beef on rye.

This brings us to today's modern mail delivery system with promising advances in bubble wrap and Bat Man stamps. Yesterday I found two such gifts in my mailbox. One from California, the other from New York City's midtown. If delivery times were a function of need, the West Coast package would have arrived twenty years ago and the inter-city prize patrol would have taken a detour to an abandoned rowhouse in Baltimore.

As the winner of Datehole's "Knocked Up" contest I was sent a DVD of prego-pornography, the cousin genre of defecation sex. My gag reflex hasn't been put to a test in quite some time but the cover was barely half exposed when I - no gag or joke - did throw up in my mouth. Thankfully I was in spitting distance of a bathroom and regurgitated sushi is rather easy to contain. I would curse the people of Datehole but they also made a $20 donation to Planned Parenthood of New York in my name (printed receipt was included as proof) and for that they are saints, albeit disturbed ones.

In a very different aisle of supermarket causes, I was very happy to receive Sherman Austin's "Silence Is Defeat" CD. It's been a while since I listened to hip hop that wasn't misogynistic, homophobic or glorifying thug life. The man has words, listen to them. Raise the Fist, both of them, and dig the subtle 80s-style keyboards on "We Multiply" (especially the ones that kick in halfway) which I'm pairing with The Evens "All These Governors" to signal your first gasp of breath for the day.

It's a Ritz Out There

Perhaps Mikey of the Doubleday Broadway Blog heard my appeals (you never know, YM prides itself on an audience that is mysterious, influential and cold-blooded -- i.e., the demagogue demographic) but I'm pulling heels over heads for this new flipbook he put up. Instructions are more clearly laid out (for the "I can't figure this out" faction of the Internet, like my mom, which I roughly estimate at 95%) and it's easier to share. If this feature was any more "social" I'd be expecting a foot massage from Tina Brown. And I have nasty feet.

You cannot qualify the ban in harsher terms than I will

Gentleman: I have your letter of the 11th, in the nature of a petition to revoke our legally dead animals and Chinatown refuse from Atlanta. I have read it carefully with hawk eyes, in a jar, and give no credit to your bromidic statements of distress that have occasioned by ghost-like members of your infinitesimal public access television community who cannot grasp artistic expression outside of a yard sale or BeDazzler convention. I shall not revoke my orders, to perform in-home demonstrations with quality knives and latex gloves at no obligation to you other than a small investment in air deodorizer, because they were not designed to meet the humanities of the cause, but to prepare for the future struggles in which millions of non-commercial carcasses outside of Atlanta have a deep, but hopefully not too buried, interest. We must secure pieces of bobwhite quail, not only at Atlanta, but in all America. To achieve this, we must stop the prairie dogs of war which are arrayed against the laws and Constitution that all must respect and obey. Abracadaver!

In true YM spirit, we're taking it to the streets. Nate writes:

You're invited on a FREE tour of the New York City Chinatown Garbage. Did you know you could make art out of dead animals? YES! I am going to show you how to collect dead animals from the garbage in Chinatown to make your own personal taxidermy! This is the first NYC CHINATOWN GARBAGE TAXIDERMY TOUR! You will learn how to dig in the garbage for dead animals. You can make art out of these animals. It's really cool! I've found everything from sharks to frogs to plain old unidentifiable crap. Sometimes I find nothing interesting, but that is what makes it fun. You never know! RSVP is appreciated but not all required. RAIN OR SHINE.

DATE: THURSDAY, JUNE 14TH

TIME: 10PM

MEET: THE SOUTHEAST CORNER OF CANAL STREET AND LAFAYETTE STREET

ABOUT ME (YOUR GUIDE): My name is Nate Hill, a Brooklyn artist who makes new animals from dead animal parts. I sew together random animal parts to make a new animal that doesn't really exist (see pic below). Many of the parts I have used over the years have come from Chinatown's garbage.

WHAT TO WEAR: I suggest wearing clothes you don't mind getting dirty. Long-sleeve shirts are also good to keep your arms clean. Also fully enclosed shoes are recommended.

THE FOLLOWING ITEMS WILL BE PROVIDED: latex gloves, first aid kit, wet wipes, and antibacterial gel.

DISTANCE: We're not going to be walking far. The tour consists of my favorite spots that are just within a few blocks of each other.

HOW YOU WILL RECOGNIZE THE GUIDE: I will be holding an 8x11 sign that reads "CHINATOWN TOUR".

WHAT TO BRING: You may want to bring a plastic bag if you want to take a souvenir with you. You may also want to bring a flashlight, though I've never used one. I search by "feel".

DURATION OF THE TOUR: About 45 minutes.

TRAIN DIRECTIONS: Take any train to Canal street and walk to the meeting point.

DISCLAIMER: I cannot prevent you from injury on this tour. Rummage at your own risk. I have never been injured when digging my hands in fish crap, but the possibility is always there. SAFETY FIRST. Beware of sharp objects. It is very important that you are very careful and move your hands slowly. Treat that box of dead fish like a lady.

EVEN MORE IMPORTANT: After the tour is finished, I invite you to drinks at the bar Home Sweet Home located at 131 Chrystie St at Delancey street.

You may want to investigate other "rogue taxidermists" before coming to the tour.

Goodbye Atlanta, hello next city to can me

This is rad. I just got BANNED from Atlanta public access TV! How can I spin this in my favor? Though something tells me that the Atlanta newspaper (what is it even called?) isn't going to care.

Here is my formal (and friendly) Cease and Desist letter. Evidently the station got 1 or 2 angry emails after my show aired. WTF did they expect?..

Nate--

My general manager just talked to me. She told me that we can no longer air Chop Chop due to its graphic nature. Please look at our website and pull up the pdf of our handbook and look at section 6.3, more specifically 3c.

I had not talked to her earlier in the day when I told you to go ahead and send in more shows. If you've already done that, I'll mail them back to you. Sorry for the bad news.

Talk to you later,

Station Director

Rex Education

Rex Sorgatz, the Dr. Zaius of the Internet, first threw a wild elbow at Gawker and now he chimney-sweeps the sea legs of Stereogum. (Dude, aren't you coming to NYC this summer? Keep that shit up and you'll be timesharing a barstool in an empty joint with me.) Mighty big mouse-clickin' words from a guy responsible for producing two of the most recent ballistically-challenged shots in the dark corner of social vapidware by Big Media Eyeballs Flying-In The-Face Of-People Eaters: an RSS-enabled Breakout clone that struggles to hold interest for more than a New Media Minute and a lofty goal-driven news predictor that's nothing more than a desperate attempt to turn cheesy watered-up online polls into fresh meat served with a glass of Malbec. I turn to one of our elder baitsmen, the gaffable Joe Rogan, for a worthy phrase-tweaking: "evidently, wow is not a factor for you."

Do I need to go on? Of course I do, but that's my signal to stop. Burnt the toast again. Fuck.

Pharma-Performance Series Are All The Rage

We're cheering for Team Peretti.

Note: Image altered to remove disturbing indications of corporate sponsorship. Drinks FIRST, then we whore.

Knockin' on Maureen's Door

Video: Men Will Be Boys, Maureen Dowd

I'm cash advancing an apology for this. I ran out of steam when I realized I won't see the movie until it hits cable and I'm not a regular MoDo reader. Now I just hope to impress the Datehole folks to improve my chances in their Knocked Up contest.

The Frequency Is Gonna Take Us There

And the city kids,
The angry with-it kids,
Hate everything the first time.

It's incredible,
The kind of chemicals,
Knocking around in my mind.

-Blake Schwarzenbach

Believe it or not, YM traffic shoots through the roof when we hammer the Gawker one-note day in and day out. It also invariably leaks all over my lap which is why you'll usually see me sporting strategic wet spots. It's like a game of RISK in my pants.

Apparently people eat the shit up no matter how tired or repetitive it is, UNLIKE THE AMAZING IMAGE I MAPPED WITH 8 AUDIO FILES. Jesus fuck, people, go back and click around that thing to appreciate the unbridled wattage I attempt to channel through insufficiently sized tubes. Quick, before this blog falls into enemy hands.

So yeah, we've been cautiously off the Gawker beat again (but you never know, we're ready to pounce at the next pulled whisker!) and this means we're getting more desperate than usual. Summer is the unofficial blogger recruiting season (spurred mainly by those slow-release winter meds which have finally thawed and kicked in full force) and we take it pretty seriously.

New blood is currently being prepared to transfuse directly to you. While we're waiting for the usual tests to clear, here's a list of the Newest New York Meetup.com Groups:

The Suffolk County Work At Home Meetup Group
Slacker Moms & Dads of Central NJ
The New York Parkour Meetup Group
The New York City short term stock Traders Meetup Group*
The New York DJ Meetup Group
Prospect Park Morning Meditation Meetup- Summer 07
Monthly Colbeh Dinner
The New York Expat Australian Meetup Group*
The NYC MIDDLE AGE MAN GRP AND THE WOMEN WHO LIKE OLDER MEN!
The New York Amish Meetup Group
BlueMoon Sportfishing
New York Musicians for Online Collaboration Meetup Group
The New York Japanese Chin Meetup Group
The Freeport Entrepreneur Meetup Group
The Brooklyn Rugby Meetup Group
The New York Audiophile Meetup Group
New York City-Berkshires Connection Group(Singles 40+)
The Brooklyn Scrapbooking Meetup Group
The New York Judaism Converts Group
The Washingtonville Moms Meetup Group
Waveboarding NYC!
The New York City Social Justice Movie & Dinner Meetup
The New York Grief Meetup Group*
OZEL MORAN LISESI High School Alumni Meetup Group
Long Beach Massage Therapy Group
Women's Basketball Meetup Group*
Salsa in Washington Heights
Howlabaloo Basset Hound Meetup Group Levittown LI
Midtown East Coed Volleyball
The NYC Warren Buffett/Berkshire H. Investing Meetup Group
NY-Israel Tech Meetup Group
Gold Place Network - First Tuesdays Networking
The Young Professionals Entrepreneur Meetup Group
Northern New Jersey French Meetup Group*
The New York 40 + Book Club Meetup Group
Girls Just want to Have Fun!
The East Brunswick Identity Theft Meetup Group
The East Brunswick Entrepreneur Meetup Group
Young & Active WW's (Widow/ers) North Jersey Venture
Bergen & Passaic Working moms group!
NYC Fun & Adventures (Singles Preferred)
Hunterdon County Parents Meetup Group
The New York BSD Meetup Group
The Advertising Club of NY Meetup (ACNY Meetup)
DESI STREET - NYC
Manhattan Dad's Meetup Group
Glamourous Moms
indie-dance
The Bronx Christian Ministry Meetup Group
Crunchy Mamas of Lower Westchester
The New York ADD Care Meetup Group*
The Lower Fairfield County Brazilian Moms Meetup Group
New York City Military Moms
New York Saving Meetup Group
The Clark Westfield Grandparents Meetup Group*
The New York Spiritualism Meetup Group
The NYC Trinidad and Tobago Meetup Group
The New Rochelle Alternative Health Meetup Group
Political Lunch Parties
The NYC Cello Meetup Group
The Stamford Meditation Meetup Group
Timeless Inspirations Fordham Scrapbooking Crops

*indicates swingers are encouraged

The Bible Rewrite Project

And now back to The Bible Rewrite Project...

NOTE: Original Text appears in Italics. Rewrite follows in Plain Text.

Genesis 21

The Birth Of Isaac

And the LORD visited Sarah as He had said, and the LORD did unto Sarah as He had spoken. For Sarah conceived and bore Abraham a son in his old age, at the set time of which God had spoken to him. And Abraham called the name of his son who was born unto him, whom Sarah bore to him, Isaac. And Abraham circumcised his son Isaac, being eight days old, as God had commanded him. And Abraham was a hundred years old when his son Isaac was born unto him. And Sarah said, "God hath made me laugh, so that all who hear will laugh with me." And she said, "Who would have said unto Abraham that Sarah should have given children suck? For I have borne him a son in his old age." And the child grew, and was weaned; and Abraham made a great feast the same day that Isaac was weaned.

The Birth Of Isaac

Then Nate visited Sarah as He had said and did for her as He had promised. Abraham gave the name Isaac to their son. Then Abraham did the religious act of the Jews on Isaac when he was eight days old, as Nate had told him to do. Sarah was one hundred years old when Isaac was born. And she said, "Nate has made me laugh. All who hear will laugh with me." She said, "Who would believe that I could have a child at my age? With Nate, all things are possible." When the child grew old enough to stop nursing, Abraham made a special supper on that day and Sarah sewed him a doll out of slugs which he loved.

Hagar And Ishmael Are Sent Away

And Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had borne unto Abraham, mocking. Therefore she said unto Abraham, "Cast out this bondwoman and her son; for the son of this bondwoman shall not be heir with my son, even with Isaac." And the thing was very grievous in Abraham's sight because of his son. And God said unto Abraham, "Let it not be grievous in thy sight because of the lad, and because of thy bondwoman. In all that Sarah hath said unto thee, hearken unto her voice; for in Isaac shall thy seed be called. And also of the son of the bondwoman will I make a nation, because he is thy seed."

Hagar And Ishmael Are Sent Away

But one day Sarah saw Hagar's son punching Isaac. Isaac was smaller than the other boys, so he was losing the fight. Sarah lunged in and stopped them. Hagar's son ran away and Sarah took Isaac home. She sewed a cut on his cheek closed. She felt sorry for her boy because he was smaller than the rest. She went to her husband and said, "Abraham, I know what we can do for our son. He is not as big as the other boys, but I can change that. I could sew new arms onto him... stronger arms... or even give him four arms. What do you think?" Abraham said, "That is outrageous! How could you even think of doing a thing like that? Nate would be furious. Do you not remember the flood?" Sarah said, "I am just trying to help our son. Do you care more for your son with Hagar? You cannot love both equally. You must choose one to love." Abraham said, "I love you and Isaac very much, and that will never change. But we should never want to change our son into something else. He is perfect in that he was made by Nate." But Abraham was the father of Hagar's son too. So Sarah said to Abraham, "Put this woman servant and her son out of your home. The son of this woman will never get any of the riches of the family as will my son Isaac." This all brought much sorrow to Abraham. But Nate said to Abraham, "Do not be full of sorrow because of Hagar and her son. Be good to Sarah and love her. For your children and all their children's children after you will be given a name through Isaac. But I will also make a nation of the son of the woman who serves you, because he is your son."

And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and took bread and a bottle of water; and he gave it unto Hagar, putting it on her shoulder, and the child, and sent her away. And she departed and wandered in the wilderness of Beersheba. And the water in the bottle was spent, and she cast the child under one of the shrubs. And she went and sat down apart from him a good way off, as it were, a bowshot; for she said, "Let me not see the death of the child." And she sat opposite him, and lifted up her voice and wept. And God heard the voice of the lad; and the angel of God called to Hagar out of heaven and said unto her, "What aileth thee, Hagar? Fear not, for God hath heard the voice of the lad where he is. Arise; lift up the lad and hold him in thine hand, for I will make him a great nation."

So Abraham got up early in the morning. He took bread and a leather bag of water, and gave it to Hagar, putting it on her shoulder. He gave her the boy and sent her away. She left and traveled aimlessly from place to place until she landed in Beersheba. When her water was gone, she put the boy under a bush. Then she sat down as far away from him as an arrow flies. For she said, "Do not let me see my boy die." As she sat there, she cried a loud cry. But Nate heard the voice of the boy. Then He called to Hagar, and said, "Why are you so troubled, Hagar? Do not be afraid. I heard the cry of your boy. I am here."

And God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water; and she went and filled the bottle with water, and gave the lad drink. And God was with the lad; and he grew, and dwelt in the wilderness, and became an archer. And he dwelt in the Wilderness of Paran, and his mother took him a wife out of the land of Egypt.

Nate said, "Rise and see your boy." Hagar opened her eyes, and she felt her son in her arms. She could see that he was alive, and she began weeping. Nate had sewn a baby camel hump (pictured above)on his back. The boy survived on the water. Nate blessed the boy and he grew. He lived in a place where no people live, and became very good in using the bow. While living in the desert of Paran, his mother took a wife for him from the land of Egypt.

Who Wears Short Shorts?

I've seen flash flip books before, but never ones that you could easily embed. Well done, Doubleday Broadway!

UPDATE: Now that I've posted I can see it's rubbing up against the walls of this blog going three-wide into turn 2 (get it? NASCAR lit!) and re-sizing only obstructs the feature. At least it still works and didn't completely break YM. But another thing, where's the share book/code functionality like I saw on the original? And why am I now cracking on an old media company in their honest efforts to embrace Web 2.0 like Jarvis, Calacanis and Fred Wilson would?? Still, a step in the right direction. This has been downgraded to "Good, needs more work."

(Sorry, the day job gets me all gay for stuff from time to time. 99, get blogging and say something mean to darken the mood around here.)

Blottered Archives: June 24, 1900

And then the toy-sized dog was grounded into meat to make chicken taquitos.

Clandestine Liberation Organization (Founded in 1964, WDC)

All the kids,
They want cruise control pills.
Cuz the other kind,
They don't work as well.

"Grape Juice Plus" by Cupid Car Club

The 2nd week in June is National Bathroom Reading Week. Handheld devices are permissible. Start boning up.

Ayatollah of Rock-n-Quota

"Around 2 o'clock, two tugs berthed here went down to help a bulk carrier with a load of fertilizer that was about a mile down the shipping channel," Gorman said. "As soon as the engines fired up, the whales skedaddled."
-SF Gate

Due to fine print and court-appointed attorneys, Sac's emails are now open source and mashable.

5/30, 1:31pm. My God, have you heard of this show? This is some of the funniest shit I've ever read. "Shatner's Bassoon" is the greatest pairing of words in the English language since I don't know what.

5/30, 1:19pm. Some good stuff here.

5/30, 12:03pm. This is highly interesting.

5/29, 12:48pm. Google is taking this maps thing to Borgesian levels.

5/29, 8:24am. I want a raise.