activities of daily living

Slate presents a twelve page slideshow about the mathematical art of Kenneth Snelson:

. . . Snelson is an unusual artist. Not only has he inspired a new field of engineering and a new understanding of cellular biology, his elegant sculptures are themselves scientific wonders. Their shiny metal rods, held together by networks of tensed aluminum wires, climb into the air at improbable angles, with an apparent disregard for gravity.[slate]

Say what you will about the Cingular Celebrity Poker Showdown Challenge, but there is something so right about watching Scott Stapp demonstrating his utter cluelessness and going down in flames early.

Sure to be linked all over the place by the end of the weekend, "My So-Called Blog" brings the drama of LiveJournal to the New York Times Magazine:

Back in the 1980's, when I attended high school, reading someone's diary would have been the ultimate intrusion. But communication was rudimentary back then. There were no cellphones, or answering machines; there was no ''texting,'' no MP3's or JPEG's, no digital cameras or file-sharing software; there was no World Wide Web -- none of the private-ish, public-ish, superimmediate forums kids today take for granted. If this new technology has provided a million ways to stay in touch, it has also acted as both an amplifier and a distortion device for human intimacy. The new forms of communication are madly contradictory: anonymous, but traceable; instantaneous, then saved forever (unless deleted in a snit). In such an unstable environment, it's no wonder that distinctions between healthy candor and ''too much information'' are in flux and that so many find themselves helplessly confessing, as if a generation were given a massive technological truth serum. [nyt
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[ via candid ]

In tomorrow's New York Times, a strangely touching article about suburban teens who hang out in New York City:

Venturing into Manhattan and hanging around Times Square, Central Park or the Village is a rite of passage shared by many suburban kids. But to be a teenager growing up in the Garden State is to have an especially complex relationship with New York. It is to be close enough to feel the city's big beat, but to be far enough removed to feel its absence from your own life; to be familiar with the otherworldly skyline and regal avenues, but still to be an out-of-towner; to crave New York's bottomless well of excitement, but to fear its dangers. [nyt]

Along with anecdodes from famous suburbanites like Rick Moody (Demonology) and Adam Schlesinger (Fountains of Wayne) are stories of New Jersey kids who essentially treat Manhattan like a big mall.

when I post a bunch of links, you can probably guess that my day has been about fun stuff like folding laundry, walking to the post office with a hand cart to pick up a giant package full of left behind xmas stuff, feeling jittery from my albuterol inhaler, and listening to songs in alphabetical order on my iPod.