An ex-PM of Google Reader explains why the recent redesign/refactor is such a bad decision.
I'm glad to see someone with a bit of authority complaining about this a reasonable way. For the most part, the only comments I've read about the changes have either been from people saying "Eww, who uses Google Reader like that?" or from crazy people calling for an "Occupy Google Reader" protest. I was starting to feel like I was the odd one out.
This weekend was the annual Horrorthon here in Dublin which seems to have lost some of its momentum in the past few yeard. A lot of its programme had me scratching my head and thinking "Is that really a horror film?" (e.g. Play Misty for Me or Akira). As a result, I've found myself weighing up the films I'd actually be interested in seeing and the films I couldn't be bothered with and decided that -- guest appearance by Michael Biehn not withstanding -- it just wasn't worth my time.
Edgar Wright's list might be a bit obvious in places, but I'd be first in line at that marathon.
This image is from a threadless t-shirt, retconning a story onto Pac-Man. I love it. It reminds me of the amazing covers for 8-bit games that bore almost no relation to the actual game1, but were just there to set the mood and provide the tiniest bit of context for the gameplay.
Since moving home and doing all my work on an easy chair, I've started to fetishize desks. This short video is all about the importance of a desk and what it says about the person who uses it. It's not helping at all.
Ars Technica re-reviews the original iPod. Bottom line: "if you still have one of these original ones lying around, find a FireWire cable and plug it in. You might be surprised at how well it still works."
Also, the industrial design of the first-gen iPod is still amazing.
A waltz called “Last Leaf” — with Mr. Richards joining on vocals — celebrates the image of a lone leaf clinging to a tree: “The autumn took the rest but they won’t take me,” Mr. Waits sings. It’s tempting to hear it as a manifesto of stubborn persistence, but Mr. Waits shrugged that off.
“It was a tree, and there was one leaf left on the tree, and I wondered: ‘Wow, if you can make it through winter, you may be here until next year. Wouldn’t that be great, if you were just the only guy that hung on?’ ” he said. “I guess you could say everything’s a metaphor for everything else, but sometimes it’s just what it is. It’s just what it’s about — about a tree.”