hell in a handbasket, part ii: running out of elements

The second in a continuing series looking at the myriad ways we're doomed.

It seems global supplies of rare earth elements, like iridium and gallium, which we need to make our TVs go, are running quite low, and could be depleted by as soon as 2017.

I'm not sure this qualifies as a species-ending event, but it might force us all to (egad) read or whatever for entertainment.

shocking self discovery

Last weekend I realized, quite suddenly and with no warning or discernable transition, that I have gone from noticing and being somewhat intimidated by guys who can lift more than I can at the gym to noticing and feeling somewhat superior to guys who can’t lift as much as I can at the gym. And this indicates that I have somehow, quite unintentionally, become a jock.

I’m shocked and embarrassed by this.

*Note: not my arm. But almost.

patron of the arts

I went to the Affordable Art Fair a couple of weeks ago and, lo, bought some Art I could Afford. It is nice when things work out like that. Actually I was somewhat surprised how many pieces I liked—there was less overtly political or difficult or annoying than I was expecting. On the other hand, some pieces were a little too spendy (“affordable” is defined as anything under $10,000, which I consider ‘doable’ but not ‘affordable’).

But in the end, at almost the last booth I visited, I ran across a couple of pieces that I more than liked.

Ando Shinji is Japanese artist who makes floral prints that are modern and wildly expressive and beautiful to me. The particular piece of his I liked best, after seeing all of the ones the gallery had, was of sunflowers, but on their sides, arcing across the top of the page, facing away from the viewer. Melancholy and nearly monochrome, with lots of negative space. Very me. While this was my favorite of his pieces, I liked nearly everything of his I saw.

The other contender was by Suzanne Marshall, a New Mexico artist who makes somewhat strange and sinister and biological (or at least sciencey-looking) prints. Here’s the one I liked most; it’s called “Nascent.”

So I saw these pieces, but of course had to circle around the show a second time and see the other things that had caught my eye again, and weigh them against one another to figure out what I should buy. And in the end I came back to the Ando and the Marshall. It was extremely tough to choose.

Helpfully the gallery owner (a very nice woman) thought to suggest “why don’t you buy both and I’ll give you a discount on them?”

Which, given that I was going to buy both anyway, worked out quite well.

My new art made me entirely happy, though I’m not sure if the universe felt the same: the moment I got the pieces safely ensconced in bubble wrap and headed for the exit, the skies opened up in one of the strongest downpours I’ve seen in quite some time. So I stopped in the café and had a drink and did a crossword puzzle while the universe made up its mind.

hell in a handbasket, part i

Welcome to the first in a continuing series of posts highlighting the ways our world is falling apart. A deeply gloomy topic that will hopefully inspire more frequent entries on my part.

Closing the ozone hole over Antarctica accelerates global warming! Fabulous. Maybe we should all go out and buy some aerosol deodorant and Freon!

Well, at least some folks think this will happen, based on their climate model. Some folks don’t. There’s disagreement. I did fine one pretty irrefutable statement on the matter:

A new study led by Columbia University researchers has found that the closing of the ozone hole, which is projected to occur sometime in the second half of the 21st century, may significantly affect climate change in the Southern Hemisphere, and therefore, the global climate.

“MAY significantly affect”? Great. And which way? Who knows. Bottom line: environmental scientists have NO CLUE what’s going on, and no environmental models encompass enough of the variables that drive the climate to be worth a brass farthing.

But we’re probably doomed anyway.

black metal pastries

So, it’s not quite goth cooking. But almost. The Black Oven is certainly one of those nice unexpected juxtapositions…two great tastes that taste great together, sorta kinda. Who can resist a recipe that says

“Try baking them, and consider the fact that the mastery of brownies is parallel to the mastery of the occult.”?

Actually I’d love to see The Black Oven as a cooking show. It’d be a colder, angrier version of BBC’s “Posh Nosh,” I suspect. Which if you haven’t seen it, you really should.

P.S. If you looked at the title and thought it said "black metal pasties," shame on you.

want, part i

In an effort to force myself to post here more regularly, I am going to start keeping a chronicle of things I run across that fill me with desire. And, lest you think this is suddently going to get overly interesting, let me emphasize things. Not people. Maybe places.

Like, for instance, these wine glasses, elegantly designed to symbolize the seven deadly sins. Appropriate enough that I should lust after lust.
Originally ran across these at boingboing, which has proven a pretty good source of wants for me in the past.

central pink

Even after all these years people still ask me from time to time (like at a party I went to this weekend) whether I don't miss the land of my birth and upbringing.

To be honest the answer varies. In late January, I will admit, I get a pang now and then. But this time of year? With cherry blossoms at their peak around the reservoir in Central Park, and everything else pretty much bursting out in bloom? No way.