Exhibit A in Dr. James Andrews’ lawsuit against the Redskins begins at the one-minute mark:
I’ve been experimenting with HackPad recently. It’s nice and simple and quick, but at this point I’m not sure why I’d choose it over Google Docs (“enmeshed” aptly describes my relationship with Google Docs).
However, the only thing I love / use more than Google Docs is BBEdit. I adore BBEdit. And when I’m in Hackpad’s scaled down interface it reminds me of the elegance of BBEdit.
And that got me thinking — what if BBEdit was a cloud service?
It has to be possible. If the heavy functionality of word processing and spreadsheets and presentation software can be ported into a browser-based environment, surely a text editor could make the jump. Browser-based code editors exist, so why not port BBEdit — or some variation on BBEdit — over to that side as well?
So they say …
This is being called the worst free throw ever:
That’s bad, but this is far worse:
I tend to avoid serious pop culture critiques because, good lord, we’re talking about television and movies and music and … it’s entertainment, people. You’re over thinking it.
But somehow this NPR essay, which certainly tiptoes along pretentiousness as some NPR things do, didn’t make me dry heave. I don’t necessarily agree with all of it — i.e. we really must do something about all the gore and violence in our “good” television shows — but it did get me thinking about a different type of gore and violence that sneaks in where it doesn’t belong.
I’m talking about the horrific commercials for the likes of “CSI” and “Criminal Minds” that air during sporting events.
Now, I can forgive an extended take of slimy entrails on “The Walking Dead” because: 1. That show is on cable late at night and 2. It’s a damn good drama that just happens to be set amidst a zombie apocalypse, so slimy entrails make sense from a contextual perspective.
More importantly: No one is showing those entrails when the network goes to commercial at the two-minute warning and my kids are in the room.
There is absolutely no reason — none — why CBS, NBC and Fox should be showing gunplay and violence and crime porn in their promos. Not during the day / early evening. Not when it’s entirely likely that sports fans with families are watching sports with their families.
Put another way: If I show my kids “The Walking Dead,” I’m the asshole. But if you sucker-punch my kids with violence and horror tucked within the promos for shows I would never show them, then you’re the asshole.
So knock it off.
What’s 6’5″ and 165 pounds?
“When I go into my living room and turn on the TV, I feel like I have gone backwards in time by 20 to 30 years. It’s an area of intense interest. I can’t say more than that.”
Apple, you better get this right. The disruption is upon us, but we need a catalytic event (something like this) to spur a mutant leap in the television experience.
A phenomenal post from Jason Fry at the National Sports Journalism Center: When I started Faith and Fear in Flushing with my friend Greg Prince in the winter of 2005, I’d been at The Wall Street Journal Online for nearly…
A phenomenal post from Jason Fry at the National Sports Journalism Center:
When I started Faith and Fear in Flushing with my friend Greg Prince in the winter of 2005, I’d been at The Wall Street Journal Online for nearly 10 years. But despite all that time as a Web guy, I’d adopted some rather unhealthy attitudes. I was studiously uninterested in knowing how many readers read my columns, and only took a passing interest in their reactions to them. I thought that my job was to be a thinker and a writer. Worrying about traffic numbers? That was somebody else’s job – and a lesser calling.
This was arrogant and dumb, and a few weeks of writing Faith and Fear showed me that. On my own blog, the numbers were of immense interest to me. I pored over them every day in an effort to figure out what posts were connecting with readers and what posts weren’t. I was singing for my supper, and it made me a better columnist. If a column was well written but didn’t seem to connect, I wasn’t happy with it. I no longer dismissed Web traffic as not my job, complained about writing promos for my stuff, or gave reader comments and emails short shrift. And I realized those folks on the business side were critical to our collective success, and could teach me things. [Emphasis added.]
I’ll add this: journalism’s biggest mistake was allowing business apathy/hatred among the editorial ranks. That’s a far more egregious “sin” than publishing free Web content.