PhotoDude.com

Fri. Sep 09, 2005

Friday Miscellany

I’ve been quiet this week, other than a bunch of links and quotes. It was for the best for all concerned. I vented Monday in an ugly manner, and haven’t really had anything prettier to say since then. But I hear that the world has continued turning, and there may be other things to look at to give our scarred retinas a break from the 24-7 horror and blame. Let’s give it a shot.

Poor abused Ektachrome. It was once The Man, and now it’s only good to make a cool Slide Lamp. This site suggests that on your next trip, you bring along a couple of rolls of that quaint artifact, transparency film in 35mm roll form: “Sure, you’ll have to go to the photo lab to get them developed, but it’s worth the trip.” How quickly we forget that not so long ago, that trip to the lab and back was mandatory, not an “extra.” And a lot of us don’t need to create new slides, we have thousands in files. This project looks like an option for those bracketed exposures that were 1/2 stop or so too dark on the light box … put a 100 watt bulb right behind them, and they’ll look great again!

Another place for brain food might be the Creativity Portal, “an imagination inducing sanctuary for artists, writers, crafters, and creativity enthusiasts.”

Down at the iPod family cemetery, they just buried the Mini. And Brushed Metal has got the blues.

Om Malik started a meme called 10 Mac Apps. Jon Hicks and others play along. Since I’ve only had the Mini about five weeks, I don’t have ten to contribute. But Paparazzi is my favorite free Mac app so far … easy full-length screen shots plopped right onto your desktop.

On the PC side, we have “Collections of little programs to piss others off”, like “This hidden software [that] will randomly play disgusting burp sounds every minute.”

On Sunday, you can participate in the Pentagon’s Freedom Walk. If you’ve signed up before yesterday online (because every American has a computer and Internet connection, right?). Otherwise you don’t have the freedom to join in … because they’re erecting a fence around the Freedom Walk. You don’t have the freedom to walk alongside. Or the freedom to take pictures except from “three enclosed areas along the route.” Violate these rules, and they say they may arrest you. You do still have that freedom.

In a fractured and @#$%-ed up world of radio, the well reviewed new album by the Rolling Stones is having trouble getting airplay.

Sounding stiff? Conversational writing kicks formal writing’s ass: “Your sixth grade English teacher warned you against writing the way you talk, but she was wrong. Partly wrong, anyway.” Word to thy maternal ancestor.

Kelley writes about our “Gas Panic” in Atlanta last week, and Laura Fries has a quite illustrative photo from our little Prefab Faux Fuel Crisis. The day before the photo, gas was about $2.79. Then it jumped to $3.99 for an afternoon, and, like poorly informed lemmings, people lined up for it (it was as much as $5-$6 at some stations). Then the next day it was (and is) $2.99. You know, they really ought to at least give you a kiss on the cheek and say “thanks for being such a good sport” after bending you over the hood and violating you like that. It’s the polite thing to do.

And while I’m a bit reluctant to link ShittyBlogs for fear I’ll be their next subject, it’s hard not to enjoy articles with titles like “Ersatz blogger fights Cindy Sheehan with pink backgrounds and latent MILF longings.”

Harvey has a special birthday request. Since his birthday is 6 days before mine, and my wife would build me a dog house for such a request, I’ll enjoy his gifts vicariously.

Jim points out that “Photographers are notorious liars.” Are not!

Oh, yeah, photos! First, here’s a page where people have collected many translations of a most important phrase: “May I take your picture?” Imagery: Polaroid transfer of Zinnas with shadow. Autumn. Carousel horses. Windy Eucalyptus Pinhole. Caitlin’s birthday. Mr. TV. Panhandling sculpture. Big chair, little baby. In flight. Artist’s Point (DDDooohhhh!!!!). Fear.