Is it useful? I don’t know yet… Cool as fuck? I’M ALREADY DROOLING. TED 2010 was probably totally aweshum. We need to go next year, but I doubt they’d give us press passes.
This is also like part 2 of this reminded me of this, this, and this
colors inverted but you get it
I love me some Daughters…. they’re a gaggle of young ones from Rhode Island that make music similar to bands like Maroon 5, Coldplay, Jay-z, The Black Eyed Peas, Ke$ha, 3OH3!!!!!!!, Justin Bieber, Anything on a soundtrack that’s mildly indie rock, your favorite songs from 80s night (COME ON EILEEN!!!), Yanni, Phish, O.A.R, E.L.O, R.E.O Speedwagon, SWV, Ma$e, Tag Team, Baha Men, and Radiohead. Check out their new single “The First Supper”
God I’m loving this:
These photos suck… but the potential is there.
FUCK YES. FUCK. YES.
The Dewey Decimal System is thoroughly confused by this entry
Part Eames Chair, part airport waiting area. A couch like this DOES buy happiness.
Buches de Noel = Yule Log
You can order these beauts FOR PICK UP ONLY ON XMAS EVE. They sold 5000 of these fuckers last year. They are ONLY available on xmas eve. Fucking French people…. always making shit difficult. Get out your fucking check books.
To begin SOTI’s inaugural Christmas post:
Ok, so to begin with chiptune/chip-hop/anyone who still uses 8-bit anything probably has too much time on their hands….now that being said: NO ONE HELP THESE PEOPLE FIND ANOTHER HOBBY. Their presence on the internet is one of the internet curiosities I have the most love for. The rush of nostalgia, the complexity derived from such a simple thing and also THE FACT THAT IT MAKES ANYTHING SOUND LIKE THE MOST EPIC SNES GAME EVER.
I dare you to listen to Carol of the Bells and not see yourself flying in a jet while the final boss of the game transforms into a giant multi-armed insect/crab/tank/alien thing which blows you away with both TRACKING AND NON-TRACKING LASER BALLS! You know the feeling, it’s like the designers were like “oh let’s just spam the screen with reflections of your own futile existence.” Anyway after a misspent youth and a thumb callous that a dermatologist would mistake for a tumor, you beat the game. And you are treated to none other than Auld Lang Syne. As the credits roll and your character’s picture exchanges poorly translated dialogue with some other characters picture, a single tear rolls down your face. Not because you didn’t realize this game had a plot, or because you’ve finally beaten it, or even because now you have to move on with your life. But because those poorly modulated sounds, so primitively constructed and synthesized, are tugging on your heartstrings like nothing else ever has. Which is sad, cause you have a mom, and she really cares about you.
Give her a call dear reader.
PART 2:
I don’t even know what to say about this one.
No words. Should have sent a poet. PEEP THE HANDS.
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