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11:59 PM
 Ray Nagin: Seriously, people, I don't know exactly what went wrong, but between the time that Katrina's floodwaters receded and the time he launched his crackpot, crackhead Canal Street casino district idea, something in Ray Nagin snapped. I used to think that big bald head was kinda sexy, but now I just want to smack it with a pool cue. Thank goddess that his reign of terror (or terribleness) is nearly done. Amy Winehouse: Despite protestations of "OMG, she's totally fantastic" from the fagnoscenti, I never liked the bitch. She struck me as the British equivalent of Macy Gray -- nice sound, but a one-trick pony. She took a giant fall in 2009; I hope she's down for the count. Saints perfection: I'm not a huge football fan, but Saints games became entirely unwatchable when the team was racing to a 13-0 record. All that pressure for perfection made me sick to my stomach. Now that they've taken a couple of dings, we can all relax. America's political shift to the left: I am, as most people know, a pretty devout Democrat -- not overly Kucinich-y or anything, but definitely left of center. However, when Dems swept the elections in 2008, that set some high expectations from the voting public -- so high they could never be met. People have become much more level-headed and even-keeled since then. I worry about zeal of any kind, whether it's for good causes or bad. TBL: The Beautiful Life: Which Ashton Kutcher insists people would have watched, if only they'd known it was on. Oh, believe me, Ashy: we knew. We knew. The Jonas Brothers: Now that one of them has been officially cherry-popped, I'm hoping they'll lose some luster. Granted, they're more palatable than Miley/Hanna/Scrappy-Doo, but I'll take what I can get. Avatar: Yes, I've heard it doesn't suck. In fact, I've heard it's awesome. I'm happy to eat my words -- I'd though it was going to be terrible -- but I AM VERY TIRED OF HEARING ABOUT IT. I'm sure Linda Hamilton is, too (although I bet the alimony is great). Nicole Kidman (and her face): Remember To Die For? Moulin Rouge? Or, although I didn't see it, The Hours? Those were the good days. Then came divorce and the equally plastic Keith Urban, and it was straight down the stony end. Nikki, darling, lay off the botox so you can start making dough again and star in a remake of Picnic at Hanging Rock. That is what we all want. Free time: Now that someone bought me Assassin's Creed 2 for xmas, I won't be having any spare time until summer. Fuckyeahxbox!
11:00 AM
9:26 PM
 He's one of my favorite Muppets -- and one that's frequently forgotten. But riddle me this, y'all: since when does Lew wear a codpiece?
7:50 AM So pretty. So poignant. So totally not mine. And yet, so fitting for the last days of the year. Especially this one.  [via OnlineEducation, etc.]
6:58 AM Most Americans are currently obsessed with Nigerians and flight security (for good reason), but the revolution not-so-quietly brewing in Iran is equally noteworthy. Yesterday, Flickr user Tamishir posted this photo, which seems pretty evocative -- even to someone like me who knows little about the symbology.  And AStreetJournalist.com captured some haunting video of protest shouts echoing across the night sky in Tehran: Far be it from me or anyone to tell Iran how to run itself, but given the country's current leadership, I can see the people's temptation to ditch the devil they know for one they don't.
11:22 AM In case you missed it, the new, post-Nigerian-bomb-attempt TSA regulations have leaked to the interweb. They make me thankful that this odd-numbered Christmas was spent at my family's place in Mississippi instead of at the bf's homestead in NYC (which naturally requires a little airtime). To everyone on the tarmac: GOOD LUCK. And keep your hands where everyone can see them. UPDATE #1: Although those directives were initially intended for U.S.-bound international flights, apparently they're being applied to a number of domestic flights, too. Um, yay? UPDATE #2: Ladies and gentlemen, our laps (and bladders) are free once more.
8:13 AM
7:26 AM
 Yesterday, I mentioned my general aversion to holiday traditions, but there is at least one that I like to keep (other than watching certain TV specials): limiting king cake consumption to Carnival season. Sadly, that tradition is being broken right and left this year. It all started pretty innocuously. I was in the Robert's grocery store three weeks ago and saw some tell-tale king cake boxes on display. Curious and quietly furious, I marched over to discover that the boxes in question didn't contain king cakes, per se: yes, the objects were oval-shaped, and they were drizzled in goop and pounds of powdered sugar, but they looked...dirty. Unlike bright, shiny, gaudy Carnival king cakes, these were black, like the mold New Orleanians came home to after living on guest beds, sofas, and floors for six weeks (or more) of their Katrina hurrication. Eventually, I figured out that these were meant to be "Saints cakes", in honor of our hometown NFL team -- which would've been much clearer if Robert's had bothered to lay on some gold frosting like Gambino's did. Or, you know, if they'd put up a sign. Anyway: the fact that king cakes had been repurposed didn't really bother me. I have a friend who leaves her Christmas tree up all year long and decorates it according to the seasons. I see Carnival beads reprinted with corporate logos and tossed out all year long. Carvel's infamous Cookie Puss secretly doubles as the less-infamous Cookie O'Puss. These things happen. However, since my first spotting, the whole "Saints" pretense has been dropped, and some of these grocery stores and corner shops are selling "real" king cakes -- the kind layered in thick slabs of purple, green, and gold frosting that are, in theory, only available from January 6 through Fat Tuesday. That's just wrong. I am glad that our friends at Blog of New Orleans see the error of these ways. Together, we can stop the insanity. Speaking of: whatever happened to Susan Powter? To judge from her website, she's either suffering from Alzheimer's, or she's writing in Ukranian and Google Translating back to English. Or perhaps she's chosen to stop everyone else's insanity by absorbing it -- like at the end of The Exorcist when Satan leaves Linda Blair and goes to live in the body of that priest, who promptly defenestrates himself. Either way, something's off.
8:55 AM
7:34 AM We have very few holiday traditions in our household. Neither Jonno nor I are religious, nor are we especially sentimental (though we both have our moments, I promise). However, there are a couple of things we do each December to evoke the xmas cheer -- namely, watch our two favorite holiday TV shows. The first is the classic Pee Wee's Playhouse Christmas Special, and the other is the slightly more obscure but possibly more fabulous Mrs. Mouth Christmas spectacular. For those unfamiliar with the lovely Eva Moskowitz (aka Mrs. Mouth), she was a fixture on New York's public access channels in the late 1980s and into the 1990s. Wrapped in furs and wigs and low-rent frippery, Mrs. Mouth was notorious for making exceptionally good prank calls, eating terrible snacks (e.g. raw eggs, raw cow's tongue), and for encouraging viewers to run to the window, throw open the sash, and yell into the night air, "I LOVE MRS. MOUTH!" It was a little like Romper Room for the drug-addled set. Count me in. Anyway, the Playhouse special is easy to find, so I've just posted the first clip below. (If you're into it, you can go on to watch the second, third, fourth, and fifth bits.) Unfortunately, the Mrs. Mouth holiday show that we like isn't on YouTube (yet), but Jonno found one that gives a hint at her flavor. If that's your thing, there are plenty of her non-holiday clips to enjoy. Don't say I never gave you anything...
10:57 AM
Of note: this is the only mention I can find of the lawsuit, which seems a little weird, given the sprawling, soul-crushing size of the interwebs. In other words: there may be no truth to this story -- or at least the allegations of Ms. Vanella. For the time being, I'm treating it as hearsay, a half-step above creative nonfiction. However: the thought of some guy making a goat from his junk was too amusing to pass up.
6:52 AM
8:24 AM
"It has taken me three years to decide on the scent because I really like BO and I think it's sexy. I wanted to figure out a way to make it palatable to everybody. I was like, 'How do you get BO in a bottle and make an atomiser of it?'
6:17 PM If you've glanced at my bio page, you may have noticed the origins of this blog's name: As for the name sturtle, it comes from a saying/read that was popularized by my friend Zod: "You're so nelly, you put an 's' in 'turtle'." Of course, the only way to carry out such a grammatic endeavor without sounding like you're from Upper Slovenia is to put the "s" at the beginning of the word: ergo, "sturtle". I know, it doesn't sound particularly funny, but when pronounced with over-the-top sibilance a la Charles Nelson Reilly (sssssssssturtle!), it's pretty freakin' amusing. So basically, I thought "sturtle" was a made-up word, nonsensical. But I was wrong. (Not for the first time.) On the Isle of Wight, "sturtle" apparently means "to frighten". Which amuses and pleases me, although I am not nearly as frightening as I would like. Have a listen: [via Ventnorblog]
8:56 AM
7:15 AM
I've been playing with panoramas a lot recently. I'm not a very good photographer, I don't have strong visual instincts, so panoramas -- for me, anyway -- are a way of creating interesting scenes. It's a cheap trick, but then, I'm a cheap date, so I suppose it's all even.
Anyway, a group of people far more talented and industrious than I have upped the ante with the world's largest 360-degree panorama -- a ginormous 18.4 gigapixel image of Prague that you can navigate much like a Google Map, but with far, far more detail. In fact, there's so much detail that the photographers have put together a treasure hunt with a $1000 prize.
But really, I don't care about all that. I just want to peek in people's windows. [via TechCrunch]
11:38 AM Yes, the Hall and Oates song, but as lip-synched by high schoolers who weren't even eye-twinkles when the song debuted. And filmed BACKWARDS. And therefore, lip-synched BACKWARDS. My high school was not this awesome.
8:26 AM
9:52 AM Anyone who's ever mimicked the French or the Germans or the Italians or any other foreign-speaking folk knows there are certain sounds that characterize other languages. So, for example, you may not be able to understand Italian, but you certainly have a feel for its cadence and the clusters of consonants and vowels that typify it. (And, if you're Peter Griffin, you can try your hand at faking it.) I've often wondered how English -- specifically American English -- sounds to others around the world. Over the years, I've asked some of my foreign friends, but none have been able to explain it to me. Adriano Celentano, however, manages pretty well, in this song of utter gibberish:
[via TodaysBigThing]
8:33 AM
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7:17 AM
It is hilarious and disconcerting when lawmakers -- former and otherwise -- ignore pesky details of the law. For example: the wee tidbit that prevents people from copyrighting a name. And so, because I have always been a smartass: Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, Ted Alvin Klaudt, infinity. Bring it, Teddy boy.
11:07 AM
9:04 AM Graphic design doesn't make up a huge part of my daily activities, but when I have a project on my to-do list, it's all-consuming. The biggest problem? Explaining to colleagues that, no, I can't use that headshot posted to your Facebook profile because (a) it's terrible and (b) it's about 37 sizes too small. I'm waiting patiently for the day when the general population understands the difference between 72 dpi and 300 dpi -- or, alternately, the day that graphic design goes the way of the stereopticon. (Guess which'll come first!) On occasion, I'm forced to dig for high-res images on services like iStockPhoto, which is interesting (because there's a lot to choose from), but also frustrating (because so much of it is terrible). Thankfully, someone with nothing better to do has begun a small but important blog to document the worst of the lot: iStockHell. May it grow and prosper in 2010.
7:02 AM
 AT&T's corporate communications team is just terrible. Seriously: tar-and-feathers terrible. I mean, I'm sure the Joe Schmoes and Jane Roes who do most of the heavy lifting are fine, but the company bobbleheads AT&T puts on national television to speak to the public? Train wrecks, all of 'em. For example, many users blame AT&T for the terrible performance of the Apple iPhone. AT&T spokesmodels, however, lays the blame at the feet of Apple and says that users don't know how to use the phone. And while there's got to be some truth in that -- especially the part about the hardware being imperfect -- to say that the AT&T network is hunky-dorey when I'm sitting in the front room of my house in downtown New Orleans, and I'm getting two whole bars of reception...well, that's idiotic. So, someone has crafted a plan to show AT&T how craptacular their network really is. I have no idea how many people will actually do this, but I may give it a shot. I mean, what else have I got to do at 2pm CST (12pm PT) this Friday? Subject: Operation Chokehold On Friday, December 18, at noon Pacific time, we will attempt to overwhelm the AT&T data network and bring it to its knees. The goal is to have every iPhone user (or as many as we can) turn on a data intensive app and run that app for one solid hour. Send the message to AT&T that we are sick of their substandard network and sick of their abusive comments. The idea is we’ll create a digital flash mob. We’re calling it in Operation Chokehold. Join us and speak truth to power! [more at FakeSteve.net]Power to the iPeople, y'all.
5:42 AM
Prostitution has long been legal in some parts of Nevada. But, until recently, that freedom only applied to sex workers who had the right parts themselves: Language in health codes required all prostitutes to have regular cervical exams, effectively making male prostitution illegal. Last Friday, that changed. Nevada brothels can now employ both men and women. [Salon via BoingBoing]
2:35 PM
Heads-up, people: DJ Dupuy just posted a holiday album to his website -- and as always, it's free to download.
FYI, putting Mirror Image and Loretta Lynn on the same playlist strikes me as slightly brilliant. More than slightly, even.
1:58 PM
9:15 AM
11:57 AM I don't know what it is about Junior Boys that works for me. I mean: yes, I totally love electronica -- always have -- but their music is far more spare than most of the stuff I keep in heavy rotation. Also, like a lot of gay men (I don't really understand why), I prefer female vocalists to male. But despite all that, there's something about JB's tone and sound that's just...well, "transporting" is about as good a word as I can think of without waxing totally emo on you guys. Oh, and their videos don't hurt, either: [via The Boyfriend]
7:35 AM
8:42 AM
 Thomas Hoving (seated) with Yousef and Estrellita Karsh Thomas Hoving, the charismatic showman and treasure hunter whose decade-long tenure as director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art fundamentally transformed the institution and helped usher in the era of the museum blockbuster show, died Thursday at his home in Manhattan. He was 78....
2:24 PM Remember my adventures in speech-to-text? Well, they've gone mobile. Dragon just launched an iPhone version of its NaturallySpeaking software [iTunes link], and it's free for the time being. Even better: it works like a charm. Look:  C'mon. Like you didn't know that was going to be the first thing out of my mouth. Screw the jet packs. I'll settle for this, thankyouverymuch.
12:08 PM
 You can purchase this chunk of toasty hotness and 11 of his well-oiled friends by clicking right here. And of course, proceeds from the calendar will help our city's awesome firemen and firewomen buy new equipment to keep the smoldering in New Orleans limited to our tastefully appointed boudoirs. Let the "hosing", "stocking stuffing", and "chimney sliding" puns begin!
8:23 AM
 Because of my work, I'm on a lot of mailing lists -- some are truly weird, some only mildly so. Yesterday, I received a letter from the Pulitzer Prize Board, which sought input on "new musical works of distinction". After a couple of paragraphs about qualifications of such works, the Board dropped in this bit: "We enclose a bulletin that contains the current regulations and an entry form for your convenience. Please note that there is a handling charge of $50 for each entry. Entry forms may be photocopied, or you may complete the form on the Pulitzer web site www.pulitzer.org, print it and enclose it with your entry."So, (a) there's a fee? I'd always assumed that Pulitzers were doled out by a committee of people who've read everything and heard everything and just know what's best. But apparently the Pulitzers awards are run just like any low-rent poetry contest or fringe festival: if you don't submit an application and some dough (and possibly a drawing of Tippy the Turtle), you're SOL. So much for prestige. And (b) what's with all the printing? Does the Pulitzer really pair its whole old-skool pay-to-play approach with an even older-skool photocopied application process? They can't be bothered to enter the 21st century and allow people to send in mp3s and PDFs? Jesus H. Christ on a cracker, who's on this board? Fucking Matlock?
7:02 AM
5:36 AM I am not entirely sure how this :50 spot for Orangina would go over in the U.S. (Just kidding, I totally know how it would go over.) I'm going to call this generally NSFW -- unless, of course, you happen to work in a sex club. You know who you are. [via AnimalNewYork]
1:14 PM
7:13 AM It's kind of unusual, knowing the date you were conceived, but I'm going to see if I can milk it for a second round of birthday presents. Of course, for that to work, I'd probably have to milk the actual birthday presents.
3:19 PM ...and all he brought back was 
7:56 AM
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6:06 AM
8:57 AM ...our production of Ryan Landry's SILENT NIGHT OF THE LAMBS opens Friday. Join us (or else)! 
11:24 AM Ugh, this is kind of awful. "Oh, font nerds. Aren't they scrumptious?!" Yeah, too bad the clip isn't especially clever or amusing. And as a B-level font nerd myself, I can tell you that our moment in the sun clouded over several trends ago. Terrible. That said, I watched a full 2:45 because the guys are so damn cute. And Neutra? Who the hellozapuss can argue with that? I'm such a sucker for good looks. [via Towleroad]
6:29 AM
 [click to enlarge; image via CopyRanter]
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