Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Worst Blogger Ever

I know that approximately 0.1 people actually read this, but I still feel slightly guilty for never posting. Should I start blogging more? Do I actually have anything interesting to say? Should I be reading one of the three books and 10-20 articles that I have to read for next week instead of writing a blog entry about how I don’t write enough blog entries? Seriously, I don’t even know.

Ye Olde Trolles

Anonymous letter to the gentlemen of Newgate, 1772: “Dont make a god of your mony but think of the por you great men do you think of gohing to heaven or hell. think of the Sarmon wich preach on 15 of March for dam we if we dont make you do you think to starve the pore quite you dam sons of wors”

Anonymous letter to a Middlesex Justice of the Peace, 1796: “We no you are an enemy to Farmers, Millers, Mealmen and Bakers and our Trade if it had not bene for me and another you you son of a bitch you wold have bene murdurd long ago by offering your blasted rewards and persecuting Our Trade God dam you and blast you you shall never live to see another harvest”

Stay classy, eighteenth century.

Plus ça change…

Read this: The 17th-Century Breastoration: A Time Before Bras.

Read it now. As a historian, and a lady, and a breast enthusiast, I have to say it made me happier than I’ve been in a long time.

From Heather MacDonald at Torontoist:

I’ve been asked why I link my cycling advocacy to women’s issues—and at times I am hesitant to do so. But in the literature on safe streets, the number of women cycling is seen as an indicator of safety and convenience. Women take more short trips then men. They are more likely pick up children, run errands, or accompany elderly parents to appointments. In all these short trips women encounter the consequences of a transportation system that has been dominated by men for the past century. Every year 35 vulnerable road users (pedestrians and cyclists) die on our roads, many more are injured. Congestion and air quality are significant problems. Something is broken with our transportation system, and catering to the private automobile is not the solution. I think about this every time I hear females explain (more often than men) that they would love to be riding a bike if only the streets were safer. When the committee tasked with implementing cycling infrastructure is composed of six men who get to make decisions without public consultation, I can’t help but be struck by the injustice to these women riding on Jarvis.

Read the whole thing here.

Urban Planning

A strange fit of nostalgia motivated me to look up my old neighbourhood in Singapore on Google maps*. It brought back a lot of memories. Namely, memories of being lost all the damn time. WTF Singapore, this is not okay.

*This is one of those sentences that simultaneously makes perfect sense and makes me wonder what the hell is wrong with our generation.

Check out these great knitwear patterns that echo the styles of the 1970s

Translation: JUST MAKE SOME NORMAL SWEATERS 2-3 SIZES TOO BIG

Check out these great knitwear patterns that echo the neon colors of the 1980s

Translation: ALL OF THE SAME PATTERNS YOU HAVE ALREADY READ BUT IN SOME STUPID COLOURS THAT YOU WILL NEVER WEAR

So, remember the Onion? The website that no one has thought was serious since, I don’t know, 2001? (Seriously, 2001. I remember reading it when I was in grade 8. Damn, I’m old.) Well, in the wake of the US House of Representatives’ ridiculous decision to defund Planned Parenthood, they came out with this: Planned Parenthood Opens $8 Billion Abortionplex.

It was moderately funny, as far as moderately tasteless Onion articles go. Fetus incinerators! Valet parking! Margaritas! You get the idea. What’s really hilarious, though, is this:

(Yes, it’s from Imgur – like I could find this kind of thing on my own.)

So, basically, my question (apart from who still takes the Onion seriously, because really? It’s 2011, people) is: if all of you devout folks are getting Raptured tomorrow, why all the worry?

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.