Sushiesque

In the Mood for What

Quoted from Wong Kar-wai's In the Mood for Love, and chalked in a restroom at the Independent, Union Square.

See also: The Ocarina of Rhyme.

Photographed on Monday night, when dinner came with a solid Michael Jackson soundtrack.

My favorite people

The Fake Outdoors

The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum's courtyard is so lush and so cryptic. It's a rainless garden strewn with amphorae and fractured stone people and ominous birds among the flowers and the fuzzy trees. And right now, it's a bit more orange than usual.

See also: Harkness.

The Science

I've been enjoying this trove of vintage science & technology advertisements all day. Chess as long division, propellants as fallen angels, information as dandelions, "computence" as a word: all wonderful.

(Via Ministry of Type.)

Nom de fail

I do not think that is the acronym that you want.

Society for Text and Discourse, cited as "STD."

I do not think that is a good name for your bus.

Peter Pan bus "Tiny Ball of Fire," competing with Fung Wah.

I do not think that is the sort of menace you wish to convey.

"Cedar Street Bears," tagging Ashmont Station, Dorchester.

You look like that girl

"You look like that girl on that TV show."
"Which?"
"Betty. Something Betty."
"Ugly Betty?"
"Yeah, that's the name of the show. But it's a compliment."
"Thanks."
"You know you ain't ugly."
"Thanks."

Central Square, Thursday evening, outside Craigie On Main.

A Library for 2000 A.D.

Found & purchased at the BPL book sale, a couple weeks ago—

"A fine of 10 cents will be charged for loss of this card."

"The reading unit may appear similar to a microfilm reader, but it must be equipped with a tape unit capable of receiving pictures from the central library, each picture representing one page. The unit must also be equipped with some means of sending signals to the central processing unit; for the sake of simplicity I shall visualize this device as a telephone dial." J.G. Kemeny, "A Library for 2000 A.D.," in Computers and the World of the Future (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1962).

You May Already Be A Winner; or, A Baby's Challenge

Arriving home from work last night, I found two trophies on my front porch.

The smaller one was a faux-gold baby, supine on a black base inscribed 2008 McGrath Memorial League Championship, and, in smaller, more deco-y type, Destro's Destroyers: Coach and GM John "McG" McGrath, and a score of some sort: Destros 130 Eggbeaters 72.

The larger one was bubblewrapped, and though I dared not unbubblewrap it, I could see that the middle of the thing looked a lot like a roll of toilet paper.

The obligatory Google search returned no results for "mcgrath memorial league."

Leaving for work this morning, I saw that the trophies were still there, naked baby peeping through freshly-fallen snow.

I would be grateful for any insights that my readership might offer.

The cake is not a lie

We would like to thank the following—

Superman, for allowing the use his arctic headquarters as a punchbowl;

Kalista, for cherries, and chocolate, and That Frosting;

Brayden, for bringing his moustache;

Misty, for the fanciest (and most necessary) of water glasses;

Everyone present at Drink last night. (See check, below: Christine, et al. I feel like we coauthored something.)

Our Lady of the Blue Box

Rose Street, Somerville.

re: a framed print of a painting of an imaginary moon

Excerpted from a Monday morning email exchange.

Sushiesque: http://www.flickr.com/photos/sushiesque/3169939829/

I believe this says something about my neighborhood: it is a place where people own this sort of thing, and discard this sort of thing. it is a place of transition.

Marty-whom-I-do-not-know (via Martini-Corona): Please tell me you took it! It's a little odd though, because Endor *is* the moon, and supposedly no one knows what happened to the planet it used to orbit, as far as I recall. I don't think you ever see a moon in the sky orbiting Endor in the movie. It's very unclear whether or not the moon in that picture is supposed to be Endor, or if it's the planet that the artist is standing on. Anyway, you took it, right?

Dick Umbrage: Dude, tell Marty that the shot was taken from the arboretum of the Death Star. DUH.

Gabriel Mckee: You *did* pick this up, right?

Sushiesque: No. But I did say, aloud, "if Gabe lived near us, I would pick this up and leave it at his door and ring the doorbell and run away."

Also adapted for Bostonist.

A recipe for turWTFen

Take the pit out of an olive and replace it with an anchovy. Put the olive into a lark, the lark into a quail, the quail into a partridge, the partridge into a pheasant. The pheasant in its turn disappears inside a turkey, and the turkey is stuffed into a suckling pig. Roasted... Read More, this will present the quintessence of the culinary art, the masterpiece of gastronomy. But don't make the mistake of serving it whole, just like that. The gourmand eats only the olive and the anchovy.

Alexandre Dumas, Le grande dictionnaire de cuisine, 1873. Quoted from abridged translation by Louis Colman (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1990).

See also: Tofu-based turducken with rude name, liveblogged.