synapse collapse

September 29th, 2011

Gotye, getting wailed at by Kimbra. Fabulous.

September 29th, 2011

Kimbra, 21. zomg.

September 6th, 2011

Zoom

Then there’s this. (After this, of course.)

September 6th, 2011

That.

September 3rd, 2011

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Five years, we’ve been married. Less than five weeks, and we’ll never get another quiet moment :) (Taken with instagram)

September 2nd, 2011

[Flash 10 is required to watch video]

merlin:

… this is a 15-second excerpt from one of my favorite PIXAR scenes in one of my favorite PIXAR movies.
It’s the bit with the POV shot while The Cleaner fixes Woody’s arm.

And, it’s a one-second shot.

…There’s no A/B test for awesome.

I love it, that last quote. And the shot.

Reblogged from kung fu grippe

September 2nd, 2011

Nice video. Now if Chipotle could just replace their Minnesota with legal Mexicans, because no matter how ethical the production, if the product lacks luster, they will lose market. Chipotle’s burritos—and the quality of cooking into each ingredient—and the service—were consistently better here before the immigration & customs raids, despite the chain having been heavily staffed by illegal immigrants.

September 1st, 2011

Zoom

Joseph Heller crawled into the transparent womb at the front of the B-25. It was August 15, 1944. He was about to fly his second mission of the day. That morning, he and the rest of his crew had been ordered to attack enemy gun positions at Pointe des Issambres, near St. Tropez, in France, but heavy cloud formations had prevented them from dropping their bombs. According to military reports, flak cover at the target was “heavy, intense and accurate.” Just one week earlier, over Avignon, on the morning of August 8, Heller had witnessed flak bursts cripple a bomber. “I was in the leading flight,” he recalled, “and when I looked back to see how the others were doing, I saw one plane pulling up above and away from the others, a wing on fire beneath a tremendous, soaring plume of orange flame. I saw a parachute billow open, then another, then one more before the plane began spiraling downward, and that was all.” Two men died.

Joseph Heller crawled into the transparent womb at the front of the B-25. It was August 15, 1944. He was about to fly his second mission of the day. That morning, he and the rest of his crew had been ordered to attack enemy gun positions at Pointe des Issambres, near St. Tropez, in France, but heavy cloud formations had prevented them from dropping their bombs. According to military reports, flak cover at the target was “heavy, intense and accurate.” Just one week earlier, over Avignon, on the morning of August 8, Heller had witnessed flak bursts cripple a bomber. “I was in the leading flight,” he recalled, “and when I looked back to see how the others were doing, I saw one plane pulling up above and away from the others, a wing on fire beneath a tremendous, soaring plume of orange flame. I saw a parachute billow open, then another, then one more before the plane began spiraling downward, and that was all.” Two men died.