First blood

Caught the first mouse at my new place. Also the first kill I've made with my hands. I cornered it in the cupboard and it scurried toward me in an effort to escape. I caught it by the tail, and instinctively dashed it to the floor. It felt so strange to deliberately kill something with your hands. Laughed hysterically for no reason.

Come and Get it

The new Daisho

In medieval Japan, samurai wore the Daisho, two swords to signify their rank. Today's serving elite wear a cellphone and a Blackberry.

Sarcasm, the English Legacy.

Fork ahead. Our species diverging? Or, the Future Gehry.

These are pictures of Dylan's train tracks. He's five, doesn't speak very well, and his spatial abilities are off the chart. The drawing is an example of Dylan's plans. He draws squiggles, and his dad builds the track. Despite the sketchiness of the plan, the track always works out. He's mapped out various patterns, running up to three trains on linked but separate tracks. The blocks are also Dylan's, and they're wonderfully sophisticated. You can see themes and motifs and even the influence of IKEA(Dylan loves the mac and cheese at IKEA).

Vision of the near future?

These cars are from the movie Repo Mambo, currently filming on Carlaw Ave, in Toronto.
They're called Zenn, and are electric, apparently. Also appearing are Smart cars, and a Nissan SUV.
The movie is about a near future where people mortgage their organs, and the main character repossesses them. From what I can see, even mortgaging your organs isn't enough to buy you an interesting car in the future. I'd rather dream of flying machines and walking houses.

Gap becomes attraction: Third order simulation.

These girls took pictures of themselves in front of this picture at the Gap. Because that image will be the closest to the real person that she will ever get, this image IS real to her, and thus the relationship between the real and the simulated is disturbed. For more on Baudrillard.

We're back.

Hello, time to start up finally. Let's see if anyone reads this. These old guys were walking to Chinatown, obviously. Reminded me of a caravan crossing the desert to trade salt. I hear strains of Ravel's Bolero every time.