Holy crap, it’s real. Duck Tape, makers of that ever-so-handy duct tape (a.k.a. “Gaffer tape”), have made a version with pictures of Justin Bieber all over it. If you’re moving, a handyman, a musician or into bondage and are looking for a change from the plain ol’ grey variety, this might be for you!
Here’s a video report from a young, incredulous duct tape shopper:
Ella’s Americana Folk Art Cafe is the sort of place you’d expect to find in Austin, but is actually in Seminole Heights, Tampa.
The “Folk Art” part of the name is no misnomer; the place is covered in all sorts of funky creations, such as this lil’ fella…
…this bigger fella…
…this Ed “Big Daddy” Roth-inspired piece…
…this other little fella…
…and no place like Ella’s would be complete without a shrine to The King, the biggest fella of them all:
Here’s the inscription over the entryway to the kitchen:
And here’s a zoomed-out view:
The Lady Friend and I went to Ella’s on Sunday, which is “Soul Food Sunday” there (check out the Sunday menu). We arrived around 1 p.m., and the place was still pretty full. Luckily for us, there were still some seats available at the bar, which gave us a good view of the kitchen as well as the scene below:
The staff at Ella’s are a friendly bunch. They’ve all got that universal North American hipster-ish look; if it weren’t for their accents, which ranged from a slight southern twang to the full on “y’all drawl”, they could easily be mistaken for the denizens of Accordion City’s Parkdale neighbourhood. The guy behind the bar suggested that we start with Bloody Ellas, which is my preferred brunch drink:
It’s a Bloody Mary with an Ella’s twist: they rim the glass with a barbecue spice rub, and it’s garnished with an olive, pickle and hunk of perfectly cooked and tender beef rib. I’m going to have to start making Caesars this way.
The Lady Friend decided to go for pulled pork and collard greens. As for me, I went for some special southern treats:
…chicken and waffles. Real down-home southern fried chicken (two drumsticks and a breast), served with a belgian waffle, a devilled egg and maple bourbon gravy on the side. To complement it, some fried green tomatoes:
(I might get excommunicated from the Smart Ass Fitness mailing list for this…)
I will be atoning for these sins at the pool and the gym all week, but these are rarities for me, and sometimes you just have to indulge.
A kind gentleman saw the Lady Friend getting pictures of me and my food and offered to snap a shot of the both of us:
In addition to being a great place to get some delicious American homestyle food, Ella’s is also known for being a great music venue. It’s co-owned by Melissa Deming and Ernie Locke, who’s a local musician, formerly with a band called Nervous Turkey. There’s a stage in the corner of the restaurant, where live bands play several evenings a week. I’ll have to come back here for one of those nights.
If you’re ever in Tampa, find a way to Ella’s!
Glenn Beck, a man whom historians will one day say was to the U.S. what lead was to the Romans, is taking a patriotic stand against Levi’s and making his own jeans. Incensed by a Levi’s ad campaign last year that featured global protests and revolutions (“It’s hard to believe that a company associated with America and working class values would use global revolutions and progressivism to sell their products,” he said), he swore off Levi’s and has since announced the launch of 1791 Jeans, which are American-made and are meant to reflect American values. Watch the commercial above and feel the American-ness rush over you, right down to the very last scene (a still is shown below)…
…in which our hero, after building a rocket and lighting the fuse, is running away from it as quickly as he can. It’s an unintentionally perfect metaphor for what’s becoming the great American tradition of poorly-thought out ideas that end in a fantastic explosion, whether it’s the Iraq War, making a quick buck from using crappy mortgages as filler for AAA-rated securities or Honey Boo Boo.
The voice-over in the ad says:
These were the first American blue jeans. The jeans that built America. And they were built in America. Built at a time when things were timeless. A time when you knew things would last. A time when people worked for their dreams and their dreams worked for them.
…which, The Atlantic points out, conveniently ignores the fact that Levi’s made the first blue jeans and patented them in 1873, and that 1791 Jeans were an idea taking shape in Beck’s fevered mind in 2011. “1791” refers to the year that the Bill of Rights was ratified, and as The Atlantic also observes, ratified despite a lack of blue jeans in America that would continue for another four score and two years.
I don’t want to pee on Glenn Beck’s parade — well, I do, but I also aim to be fair: the jeans are 100% made in America. The selvage denim is woven in Greensboro, NC at Cone Denim Mills, and the final product is cut and sewn in Kentucky at a factory established in the 1920s. Putting Americans back to work is a noble endeavour, even if the person doing so is Glenn effing Beck.
The jeans come in two cuts, classic and straight, and a pair can be yours for the 53%-friendly price of $129.99.
You can find out more by reading the announcement on Glenn Beck’s site. In the comments, the question has already come up: “Are these union made? I hope not.”
Be sure to check out 1791’s online catalog, which includes a Tumblr with the “Chore Coat” below. I love the caption: “Women in chore coats! We love that.” The only thing missing from the pic is the kitchen, which should be her natural setting:
Here’s a good reminder to use passwords that aren’t made of names or actual words.
The joke in this poster is also a hint as to why biometrics isn’t the answer. If your password is compromised, you can make up a new one. If your fingerprint data is compromised, you can’t change your fingerprints.
Michael O’Connor Clarke was the “Good Guy Greg” of the Toronto blogosphere. He was part of the social glue that held the Toronto tech community together, even before its DemoCamp days, friend and trusted advisor to so many of us who specialized in corralling eyeballs, pixels or code and organizer of HoHoTO, a regular charity event that brings tens of thousands of much-needed dollars to the Daily Bread Food Bank. On top of that, he had an impressive resume and was a husband, father of three children and sole breadwinner of the household.
Michael was diagnosed earlier this year with esophageal cancer, an aggressive variety of the disease, and he died last night. My heart goes out to his wife Leona and his kids, Charlie, Lily and Ruairi.
I owe Michael all sorts of debts for his help throughout the years, from referring the Globe and Mail to me to giving me the best damned media training ever in a half-hour over coffee to always greeting me with a smile and a joke whenever I saw him. I plan to repay those debts by following his example as best I can.
I’ll leave you with AKMA’s words about Michael:
Michael is already a winner, a bigger winner than ’most anyone I know, and he will always be. We have a job to do, now, of holding him and his dear ones tight in an embrace, a solidarity, a real, effectual net woven by our caring and our love — but we can’t lose sight of the real goal, to which Michael gives so much time and energy. We have to build out the network of our effectual love and caring till it avails not just for people we know first-hand, but reaches even to strangers and eventually even to f*cknozzles, because none of us can stand alone against all the forces of corruption and exploitation and violence. Michael’s drawing Toronto further toward that, contributing his skills and resources and energy to the Daily Bread Food Bank; by all means let’s rally to Michael’s side, show him our respect and solidarity, and by sharing in his spirit of generosity and love, share with him in winning something vast and vital and imperishable, something that cancer can’t touch. Help Michael and his family. Make someone laugh; feed someone; give a hand to someone who needs a boost; find a way to hire someone; knit us all together more kindly, more securely. That’s the win; that’s what I have to say for Michael: a champion, an unbeatable champion.
Game box design by FancyHam.
Imagine a videogame adaptation of Blade Runner, as made for the #1 console of that time.
Then again, it might not be such a good idea:
Come to think of it, Safety Not Guaranteed would be a good movie title answer to this challenge.