danbruno.net/blog

God Diagnosed With Bipolar Disorder.

Randall Munroe on Barack Obama.

Wikipedia’s list of humorous units of measurement.

Sheppey

A measure of distance equal to about 7/8 of a mile, defined as the closest distance at which sheep remain picturesque.

[...]

Donkeypower

This facetious engineering unit is defined as about a third of a horsepower (i.e., 250 watts).

(link)

Chinese TV station uses World of Warcraft map to represent the Middle East.

Which console should I buy?

FlickrExport is a plugin for uploading photos from iPhoto to Flickr. It’s hands-down the best Flickr software I’ve used, even outperforming Yahoo’s official tools. All but a handful of my Flickr pictures have gone through FlickrExport.

Here’s the thing, though — I don’t really use iPhoto. My 45GB iTunes library and 32GB Windows partition have made me fastidious about my laptop’s limited disk space. So I dump all of my photos into iPhoto, tag and upload them through FlickrExport, and then erase my iPhoto library once they’re online.

Now I have a terabyte hard drive but there’s no good way to get my photos back. The only option I’ve found is FlickrBackup, but that loses the photos’ metadata — most importantly, the tags. What I need is FlickrImport — something that would add an entire Flickr photostream to iPhoto while keeping the tags, sets, titles, and so on. (While we’re at it, it could also sync my iPhoto library with Flickr, so that changes in one are reflected in the other. I’m not sure if that’s actually possible, but hey.)

Neu-York: “An obsessively detailed alternate-history map, imagining how Manhattan might have looked had the Nazis conquered it in World War II.” (via)

This is funny on so many levels.

(link)

Here’s Looking At You: a film about first impressions. (via)

Jane Eyre runs for President.

Lyrics from Damien Rice and David Gray’s cover of Que Sera, Sera during Live Earth last July:

(Now it’s Saturday afternoon, it’s three o’clock, it’s Wembley Stadium…hello? There’s only one song we could sing. This is our cover version — a special Wembley song, so I want to hear the old Wembley roar.)

When I was just a little boy
I asked my father
How would it be?
Would I be able to play in the trees
‘Cause they’re cutting down forests and spreading disease
And here’s what he said to me:

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be

When I grew up and fell in love
I asked my sweetheart
What lies ahead?
Will there rainbows day after day?
Will we become just another cliche?
Having it all, yeah, and throwin’ it away
Here’s what my sweetheart said:

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be will be

And now I have children of my own
They ask their father
What will we be?
Will we be bitter, filled with regret?
Will we be choking on our own shit?
I tell them tenderly:

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera

(You have a go, come on!)

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera

What will be, will be
Que sera, sera