Work(ing Title)

I fell victim to that which is the most en vogue Flickr habit, the 365 Project. So far this year I’ve taken at least one photo every day, though I won’t consider myself successfully on-track until I’ve got through all of March.

If you’ve watched my photostream lately, I’m still fighting through the giant piles of holiday photos. By this weekend I’ll have published the last of those, and then I’ll start pushing up my dailies. Also rest assured that these photos integrated into…The Redesign.

Eric has found a brilliant bit in Bruce Tog’s iPhone impressions. Hardened-steel indeed.

Remember all the sketches you did as a kid of your dream car? Well those wacky French have got a thing for people like us. I just posted on 10 about this Peugot Design contest, and how Xbox has partnered with them to include the winner of the annual design competition in an Xbox 360 game (in addition to the full concept vehicle that get’s produced for the Frankfurt show).

The more exciting thing though is what sort of critiques we’ll get from Monzel on the cars that have already been submitted. Go to the voting section of Peugeot’s site, click on ‘Start selecting’, and then throw your comments in below. Include their names so everyone can follow along ;)

“To have that powder blown up your nose is rather like being shot out of a rifle barrel lined with baroque paintings and landing on a sea of electricity.” –Wade Davis on Amazonian hallucinagens for TED2003

Update: He just trumped himself:

“The Canadian government has not always been kind to the Inuit people, and during the 1950’s, to establish her sovereignty, we forced them into settlements. This old man’s grandfather refused to go. The family, fearful for his life, took away all of his weapons, all of his tools.

Now you must understand that the Inuit did not fear the cold they took advantage of it. The runners of their sleds were originally made of fish wrapped in caribou hide. So this man’s grandfather was not intimidated by the arctic night or the blizzard that was blowing.

He simply slipped outside, pulled down his seal-skin trousers, and defecated into his hand. And as the feces began to freeze, he shaped it in the form of a blade. He put a stray of saliva on the edge of the shit knife, and as it finally froze solid he butchered a dog with it. He skinned the dog and improvised a harness, took the ribcage of the dog and improvised a sled, harnessed up an adjacent dog, and disappeared over the ice flows, shit knife in belt.

Talk about getting by with nothing.”

On Friday afternoon I went to the gym to go run. First off, by ‘run’ I of course mean moon-run, courtesy of my local neighborhood elliptical trainer (impact is for fattie losers). Now then, the prequel here is that I got into the gym once last week while I was back in town and decided that instead of lifting heavy things I’d run. While I only ran for 30 minutes, it was the most effortless activity I could remember.

Friday proved that wasn’t some sort of fluke, as I ran 13 miles in two hours. after that long I has compelled to stop not by any pain in my joints, nor exhaustion of my muscles or lungs. No friends, my nipples were in such searing pain I had to stop (fuck you very much Charles Darwin–couldn’t have discovered something with a quicker pace could you?).

Saturday morning rolls around and after beginning the process of sluffing old and unwanted clothes, I hit the space-bricks again. This time I wanted to take it slightly easier in order to preempt any injury, and so ten miles was had in 80 minutes. The rest of the day was spent with laundry, and then a Han Solo Film Festival evening (Empire and Serenity). Oh and there was a bit of self surgery that night to deal with a blister that made a cameo appearance on my foot.

Yesterday I watched Back to The Future* with my late breakfast, did something (?), and then had a late lunch before heading back to the gym. This was a deliberate test mind you, and the results were as I suspected. My stomach cried foul before I would’ve otherwised stopped, but my more aggressive pace did let me rock out eight miles in 45 minutes.

Starting this morning the goal is to run 15 miles every day for a week. On Rini’s suggestion I’m going to break it in half, which will allow for some better muscle recovery, plus I can lift heavy things in the evening session. If I can keep up that kind of pace, I should be able to donate more clothing than I thought!

*Every time Marty goes changes time, he ends up slamming the DeLorean into something to stop. First it’s the Mr. Peabody’s barn (which according to the speedo he hits at around 40mph), and then he hits the movie theater upon returning to the glorious 80’s.

Are the benefits of a paintless, stainless steel car really that great? How can he keep slamming into buildings at near freeway speeds and then just drive away? How did I not notice this during any of the previous 497 viewings?