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October 27, 2010

Google Music — "Currently only Hindi songs are available"


Via Bruce Sterling's Twitter where he wrote, "I think my life just changed."

Jai Ho!

Coincidentally, today is the day the [LimeWire] music died.

"One door closes, another opens" — Arab proverb.

October 27, 2010 at 04:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Sap Cap — "The most dangerous object in the office this month" (Wired)

Here's Aaron Rowe's appreciation from the November 2010 Wired: "We don't normally countenance violence, but if the color printer gets one more paper jam, we're going to send it to the great Circuit City in the sky. Of course, management frowns on armed employees, which means we need a well-concealed weapon. That's where the Sap Cap comes in. It's Gilligan's greatest nightmare — the ultimate stealth cudgel. On the back of this normal-looking baseball cap is a reinforced pouch filled with about a pound of tiny metal balls. Grip the bill firmly and swing. Pow! The impact can break fingers and knock out teeth. That's more than enough destructive potential to vent our appliance-induced fury."



Tip for a happier life: do not wear this or have it on your person or in your bag when you go through airport security.

October 27, 2010 at 03:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Grid of gold


From Alexander McQueen's Spring 2011 Ready-to-wear collection.

[via mappeal, hinthint and bibidebabideboo]

October 27, 2010 at 02:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Clumsy Coaster


Set of 2:



[via Tastologie]

October 27, 2010 at 01:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Harvey Phillips, the "Heifetz of the tuba," is dead at 80


Daniel J. Wakin's October 24, 2010 New York Times obituary introduced me to this singular musician's life; the piece follows.


The tuba players mass by the hundreds every year on the Rockefeller Center ice-skating rink to play carols and other festive fare, a holiday ritual now ingrained in the consciousness of New York.

The tradition began in 1974, the brainchild of Harvey Phillips [top], a musician called the Heifetz of the tuba. In his time he was the instrument’s chief evangelist, the inspirer of a vast solo repertory, a mentor to generations of players and, more simply, Mr. Tuba.

Most tuba players agree that if their unwieldy instrument has shed any of the bad associations that have clung to it — orchestral clown, herald of grim news, poorly respected back-bencher best when not noticed, good for little more than the “oom” in the oom-pah-pah — it is largely thanks to Mr. Phillips’s efforts. He waged a lifelong campaign to improve the tuba’s image.

Mr. Phillips died on Wednesday at his home, Tubaranch, in Bloomington, Ind., his wife, Carol, said. He was 80 and had Parkinson’s disease.

Like many towering exponents of a musical instrument, Mr. Phillips left a legacy of new works, students and students of students. But even more, he bequeathed an entire culture of tuba-ism: an industry of TubaChristmases (252 cities last year) and tuba minifestivals, mainly at universities, called Octubafests.

“The man was huge in putting the instrument on the map as a solo instrument,” said Alan Baer, the New York Philharmonic’s tuba player, two of whose teachers were Phillips students. “Our repertory is so limited, and it would be horrible if he had not done the amount of work that he did.”

Mrs. Phillips said her husband had either commissioned or inspired more than 200 solo and chamber music pieces, many wheedled out of composers by persistence or other methods. “I remember Persichetti was a case of Beefeater gin,” she said of the composer Vincent Persichetti.

Mr. Phillips once said, “I’m determined that no great composer is ever again going to live out his life without composing a major work for tuba.”

Harvey Phillips was born on Dec. 2, 1929, the last of 10 children, in an Aurora, Mo., farming family. The family moved often, and he attended high school in Marionville, Mo.

After graduating, Mr. Phillips took a summer job playing tuba with the King Bros. Circus. He left to attend the University of Missouri but was quickly lured away by another circus offer: playing tuba with the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. It was the pinnacle of circus bands.

One of the band’s duties was to give “alarms”: play pieces to alert circus staff in the case of, say, a high-wire accident. “Twelfth Street Rag” was the alarm for that, a signal to send in the clowns to distract the audience, Mr. Phillips said in a New Yorker profile in 1976. He spent three years with the Ringling band.

On a circus trip to New York, where he played duets with the clanging pipes in his hotel room, Mr. Phillips met William Bell, the tuba player of the New York Philharmonic. Mr. Bell soon arranged for him to study at the Juilliard School and become his pupil.

Mr. Phillips spent two years in the United States Army Field Band in Washington but returned to New York, drawn by the many opportunities. He became a successful freelancer, playing regularly with the New York City Opera and New York City Ballet orchestras, recording and making broadcasts.

In 1954 he helped found the New York Brass Quintet. The combination (two trumpets, French horn, trombone and tuba) was less common at the time than it later became. Brass quintets proliferated, a boon for tuba players, because brass players on university faculties needed a tubist colleague to form a group. More tuba professors meant more tuba students.

Mr. Phillips also played jazz, performing in clubs and recital halls. As his reputation grew, composers began writing for him, and Mr. Phillips introduced another rarity, the tuba recital. In 1975 he played five recitals at Carnegie Recital Hall in nine days.

Writing in The New York Times in 1980, the music critic Peter G. Davis said first-time listeners to Mr. Phillips “could scarcely fail to be impressed, and probably not a little astonished, by the instrument’s versatility and tonal variety, its ability to spin a soft and sweetly lyrical melodic line, to dance lightly and agilely over its entire bass range, and to bellow forth with dramatic power when the occasion demands.”

Mr. Phillips’s entrepreneurial abilities emerged in his New York years, too. He served as the orchestra contractor for Leopold Stokowski, Igor Stravinsky and Gunther Schuller, among others. When Mr. Schuller took charge of the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, he recruited Mr. Phillips as vice president for financial affairs. Mr. Phillips held the position from 1967 to 1971, commuting to New York for evening performances.

The punishing routine took away from practice and family time. Coming home late one night and missing his family, he took out his tuba while his wife and two of his children slept in the bed nearby and practiced until dawn, playing so softly that they did not wake up, according to the New Yorker profile.

He often practiced in the backseat of his car while his wife drove and their children kept eyes on the road to warn of approaching potholes. “They would yell, ‘Daddy, bump!’ ” Ms. Phillips said.

In addition to Ms. Phillips, Mr. Phillips is survived by their sons, Jesse, Harvey Jr. and Thomas.

In 1971 Mr. Phillips joined the faculty of Indiana University. He retired in 1994.

In his tireless efforts to raise the tuba’s profile as well as to honor Mr. Bell, his teacher, Mr. Phillips — perhaps touched by the showmanship of his circus past — decided to gather tuba players for a special holiday concert in Rockefeller Center. (Mr. Bell was born on Christmas Day, 1902.)

He called an official there with the suggestion. “The phone went silent,” he later recounted. “So I gave the man some unlisted telephone numbers of friends of mine.” They included Stokowski, Leonard Bernstein, André Kostelanetz and Morton Gould. “He called me back in about an hour and said, ‘I’ve spoken with your friends, and you can have anything you want.’ ”

The Tuba Christmas extravaganzas took off. Volunteers hold them around the country under the auspices of the Harvey Phillips Foundation. Sousaphones and euphoniums are also welcome.

At the tubafests, the musicians play “Silent Night” in honor of their fellows who have died, Mrs. Phillips said. On Dec. 8 when tuba players gather again at the skating rink, the carol will be played in Mr. Phillips’s memory.

October 27, 2010 at 12:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Zip-up Cable Sleeve


"Exposed electronic cables look messy and can cause nasty accidents. Wrap this handy sleeve around them and zip it closed."




20" long.


Set of 2: $9.99.

You want grey?

No problema.


Apiece, $5.59.


October 27, 2010 at 11:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Airports with free WiFi


FunFact: "Beware of WiFi networks called 'Free Public WiFi' in airports. You'll get online but most likely they are fake unsecure networks hoping to steal info."


Hit this site instead.

October 27, 2010 at 10:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

All saints pillowcase


"Sleeping people look innocent, especially on this glow-in-the-dark pillowcase."

100% white cotton.


October 27, 2010 at 09:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

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