Archive for July, 2008
Over at Vox, today’s Vox Hunt—a variant of its Question of the Day feature—asked us to scour the web for examples of our favorite poem. I don’t usually play this game, but how could I resist the chance to see how Dorothy Parker’s Résumé was represented on YouTube? I couldn’t. And I found some good examples, including this one, which I’d forgotten, from Mrs. Parker and the Vicious Circle.
As you can see, I’ve redecorated the place. I absolutely loved the old template—Kelabu (Gray). I loved the funky green-ness of the stripe at the top, and I really loved the, er, splotchiness under the text. It sort of looked like the blog was written on electronic newsprint (whatever that means). If you’re missing that look already, just visit Joe Sixpack, who’s currently using Kelabu (Gray) on his Beer Radar blog.
But it was time for me to change. Kelabu (Gray)’s tiny font was less-than-readable, and it was just too much trouble to enlarge it. I’ve opted now for a cleaner template, Journalist, which, as you see, features a much larger font. You should find the whole site easier on your eyes. Unfortunately, the template change won’t make my prose flow any better. I’ll try to keep working on that, though.
I spent much of the day attending to the formatting problems caused by the template change. There really weren’t that many. Actually, I frittered away most of the time (i.e., hours and hours) picking and then installing a favicon. It’s a typewriter. And, no, I’m not entirely sure that’s obvious. For now, the typewriter amuses me. (And it looks really good as an Internet Explorer desktop shortcut. Not that I know anyone who still uses IE. And not that I know anyone who actually has a link to Rivers Are Damp on his desktop. That would be weird.)
Anyway, if you encounter any new (or old) problems with the site, let me know.
- Post-Katrina New Orleans still struggles, of course. And now there’s an oil spill in the Mississippi River! But there was good news on Friday. The Times-Picayune is again awarding beans (here in Philly, the Inky awards Liberty Bells) in its restaurant reviews. According to the T-P‘s food critic, both he and the local restaurant scene are finally ready.
- In news that’s not, a study finds that many NYC men don’t tell their doctors they have sex with other men. Despite what the headline on the NYT blog-post says (“many gays don’t tell their doctors”), though, you’ll see that the vast majority of gay men are out to their doctors. It’s the bisexual and “straight” men who aren’t being candid. That’s not all that surprising: Some portion of these men simply haven’t come to terms with themselves. And for some of these men, too, they’d be in the awkward position of having to admit adultery. Still, doctors could make this easier. I’m certainly out to my doctor, and, for an uptight, middle-aged straight man, he’s remarkably dispassionate about my sexuality. But when I was freshly out, one of my doctors—a formidable woman with a thick Russian accent—didn’t make it very easy to talk. “Are you still practicing homosexuality?” she’d ask, in a tone that struck me as, well, more inquisitorial than inquisitive. “I wish,” I’d say, and then we’d move on to how my sore back was probably the result of my unfulfilled sexual desires. Ugh.
- One of my Twitter buddies is mentioned—by, of all things, his screenname—in this NYT piece on Comcast’s online attempts to reach out to customers.
- Another NYT piece mentions Absaroka, which would have been a state—carved out of Wyoming, Montana, and South Dakota—if a few early-20th-century romantics had been in charge. Absaroka makes a certain geographic sense, as you can see in this Strange Maps post, in the way it gathers up square miles dominated by tall grass. (If Absaroka appeals to you, check out the somewhat similar movement in northern California and southern Oregon for a State of Jefferson, too.)
- In some respects, anyway, rock drummers may be fitter than professional soccer players, BBC News reports. I’m obviously missing out, since I don’t seem to be crushing on any drummers right now. Who are the fittest, sexiest drummers?