15 Diamonds

15 diamonds and 15 karat gold for 15 championships.

Cambridge

I don't really want to turn this place in to a travel blog where all I do is post boring pictures of me at various amazing places around London. I prefer to maintain the recent history of posting interesting links, videos, photos, etc. With that said, I feel almost obligated to post a few of the boring photos from when I ventured to Cambridge on Friday. Seriously. So. Amazing. It goes without saying that many, many Harry Potter jokes were made and while they may have stopped being funny to my travel companions almost immediately, I never tired of them. Nor do I think I ever will. So yeah, here are a few photos from Cambridge:



If you feel so inclined to see more pictures of Cambridge simply check out my Flickr. With that said, I hope to return to regular posting of cool and interesting ish I find on the interwebs and around town in the near future. So stay tuned for that. I hope.

It's So On Like Donkey Kong

Welcome back. Welcome back.

London Town

So I have been in London for a little under a week now. It has been sunny on all but two days so far which means London is pretty much way better than advertised. I may even love it more than a fat kid loves cake. My computer showed up today along with the rest of my books, art, sweaters, etc. so this post will be brief. I still have some settling in to do, including a trip to the great and wonderful Ikea. So for now I will leave you all with a glimpse of my terrace house (be sure not to refer to it as a row house or a town house, you will be mercilessly ridiculed by all the London tossers):

Potent Potables

Two quick things. The first of which is a follow-up to yesterday's hilarious Obama speech/Kanye stunt mash-up courtesy of my friend Keith:

Too soon? I vote no because it is just too funny and too timely. Like I said, I really love the internet.

The second point I would like to address is a little anecdote from my friend Broek. This last weekend while in the NYC she was walking with a friend through the meatpacking district and made a few jokes about bumping into Scott Schuman. Next thing you know, they actually do bump into Scott Schuman and Garance Dore. "In the wild." Pretty cool huh. The story goes that both Scott Schuman and Garance Dore were quite affable. However, what stood out the most was the contrast between their physical appearance and what they look like in photographs. Broek said that Scott Schuman was much shorter than expected. He also looked much stockier than he does in his photographs. The conclusion was that he really knows how to position himself for the most flattering photos. The word on the street regarding Garance Dore is that she is even more beautiful in person than she is in her photographs.

When I first heard the story it made me a little sad to hear that Scott Schuman was not 6 feetish and slender like I had imagined. Kind of like hearing that The National suck live. But after thinking about it a little more I kind of like that he is more of a regular guy with "flaws" just like me. Hearing that Garance Dore was even better looking in person just made me like her even more.

What makes this story even better for me was that I had just read the post on Garance Dore's blog from Monday where she posted the photo that Scott Schuman took of her taking a picture of another woman who was in turn taking a picture of her. I wonder how the timing worked out of when this picture was taken to when Broek bumped in to them.

So yeah celebrities! They're just like us! Or something like that. But really, in all honesty, and with complete earnestness. Check out the blogs for both these photographers. Two of my favorites by far. And Scott Schuman's new book is the bomb diggity. I can't stop paging through it.

Reason # 7,894,593 For Why I Love The Interwebs

I am not sure if I have mentioned this before, but I love the interwebs. I mean, I REALLY love the interwebs. I love them even more than Michael Jordan loves being petty and vindictive. This hilarious "mash-up" that hit the interwebs immediately following Kanye's little stunt at the VMAs is just one of the many, many, many reasons why I have this burning love:

I Will Not Read Your !@#$%^& Script

A couple of days ago A History of Violence screenwriter Josh Olson published a nice little rant in the Village Voice. While his rant is often quite amusing because of his colorful choice of words, Olson also makes quite a few meaningful points and offers some sage advice for aspiring screenwriters. I agree with everything Olson says and really appreciate the way he framed his arguments. My favorite part of the rant was the final anecdote:

You are not owed a read from a professional, even if you think you have an in, and even if you think it's not a huge imposition. It's not your choice to make. This needs to be clear--when you ask a professional for their take on your material, you're not just asking them to take an hour or two out of their life, you're asking them to give you--gratis--the acquired knowledge, insight, and skill of years of work. It is no different than asking your friend the house painter to paint your living room during his off hours.

There's a great story about Pablo Picasso. Some guy told Picasso he'd pay him to draw a picture on a napkin. Picasso whipped out a pen and banged out a sketch, handed it to the guy, and said, "One million dollars, please."

"A million dollars?" the guy exclaimed. "That only took you thirty seconds!"

"Yes," said Picasso. "But it took me fifty years to learn how to draw that in thirty seconds."

Like the cad who asks the professional for a free read, the guy simply didn't have enough respect for the artist to think about what he was asking for. If you think it's only about the time, then ask one of your non-writer friends to read it. Hell, they might even enjoy your script. They might look upon you with a newfound respect. It could even come to pass that they call up a friend in the movie business and help you sell it, and soon, all your dreams will come true. But me?

I will not read your fucking script.

Maybe I should have titled this post I Will Not Do Your !@#$%^& Taxes.