Hi. I’m Jim, and I’ll be your host for this newsletter. Whoever sent you here, you owe them big time. I guess I do too.
You need to forward this to someone, perhaps at your leisure, I’m not really sure how much you have on today. But you need to today. Forwarding is fun, easy and everyone is doing it.
You can also check out the back issues, assuming they’re not already tattooed on your neck but backwards so you can read it in a mirror.
What you will not find here
- Anything to make you feel like you’re missing out, because you’re not and if you are based on something I wrote, well then, there might be bigger issues to worry about.
- Reservations about my dedication to my dear readers for whom I would give the world, if not my life. Maybe.
Man alive, look another Top 10 for January.
I’ve been trying to read the sci-fi tech-bro novel of the 90’s that everyone I know loves and recommends and it’s been sort of painful, which you can read in about in this ramble Snow Crash and the Whateververse
402 Payment Required is an error code that over two decades ago determined the misshapen blob of bile and hate that the Internet has become. Which I finally got around to writing about.
I’ve realised what I excel in is coming up with really interesting ways to lose money. I was asked over what innocently began as Sunday morning coffee, and then descended into exploring various booze shelves and pint specials before noon, what I would do I wasn’t doing this software stuff and money wasn’t an issue. There are no shortage of ideas, and zero of them would make any money. This is why I’m writing a newsletter I guess.
What I would really want to do, besides my weekend cabin cooperative/collective, is open a standing only coffee bar with loads of magazines and where laptops are banned. People would come in, stand around, browse some magazines and be out in 15–20 minutes. This has about as much legs as a bar opening in Cleveland with less than three TVs per person.
If you’ve got a wad of money you don’t mind losing, email me. I can promise you nothing but fiscal loss, fun and ravishing glory, and maybe a tax write off or something. I have a good UK accountant if you’re interested.
Otherwise, I’ve been meaning to backup this claim of me being a graphic designer deep, deep, down inside, but never get around to it. Typing is so much easier isn’t it? I even was sent an amazing heavy metal font made by a friend, and couldn’t do that. Just been that sort of a month really.
Super Serious Forwards
I’ll be the last one to play high and mighty, manifesting, guru dude, but man do I have to remember to stop comparing myself to Genghis Khan.
If you’re in the Holy Land and want to get some ink to commemorate the occasion go check out Razzouk Tattoo who have been at the game for over 700 FUCKING YEARS.
I’ve had enough mishaps between languages, especially of the Slavic persuasion like with pregnant in one language being the same as tired in another, but had no idea how different Quebecois is to ‘regular’ French. Read The Silences Between: On the Perils and Pitfalls of Translation.
Oooh this one is deep, harsh and a brutally good read. It might look like I’m a crypto-skeptic, but I would say I’m way more safely crypto-curious. I’ve been a bit on the inside professionally and wary of any kool-aid based economies. Whichever side you’re on, this guy has very solid, extremely historical arguments. And history will repeat won’t it?
The Pudding pull out all the stops yet once again, and man, you can taste the irony like vinegar here as they wrangle GPT2 and ton of other bleeding and biting edge ML techniques to whip up this hilarious, grim and likely true take on career advancement, Deepwork: You’re Only Human. Don’t Let That Stop You From Advancing Your Career.
Just slow down already will you?
Halfman endorses: Toast, walks in the woods, Simplenote, banana chips, taking a bath and descending into half-consciousness with the bass line of Led Zepplin’s “Ramble On” rolling through your head, Cavity (band, FL), The Strokes, Chopin, wraps, pens, and giving up.
Halfman, stumbling blindly through the spectacle of time, space and place since 1968.