A few months ago, I posted about Lane 8’s seasonal mixes and I’m happy to report that the Fall 2024 Mixtape is now out. You can find it on Soundcloud, YouTube, and Apple Music. I’ve been listening for the past few days and it’s 🔥🔥.
Premiering this Friday (Nov 22) on FX is a short documentary from The New York Times called Weight of the World about GLP-1 drugs. Here’s the synopsis:
As GLP-1 drugs like Ozempic soar in popularity for weight loss, this film follows three people on their own GLP-1 journeys and explores how decades of diet culture and society’s relentless pursuit of thinness paved the way for their rise.
In this video from Pianote, the multi-talented Jon Batiste hears Green Day’s Holiday for the first time (drum & vocals only) and is challenged to come up with a piano accompaniment for it — and he really really gets into it. (How do you find a song that a musical encyclopedia like Batiste has never heard before though?)
10,946 is a mesmerizing stop-motion film by Daren Jannace composed of drawings on Post-It notes. He created 30 drawings a day for an entire year and then animated them: “Set at 30 frames a second, each second represents 1 day.” The animation is accompanied by audio Jannace recorded on his phone during the year.
If you watch the whole thing, you get to experience what a year feels like if days were shrunk down into seconds. (via colossal)
I am predisposed to like videos about meteorite craters but this was even more interesting than I anticipated.
A nice example of a crater 2-3 km wide is Rotor Kamm in southern Africa. I should mention that we’re easily into city killer impacts here, in case you’re wondering.
The Big Wait is a lovely short documentary about a couple who live alone in the middle of nowhere in Western Australia, managing an emergency airport and a small row of guest cottages that are rarely occupied. I got this from Colossal, which calls the film “poetic and dryly humorous”; I cannot improve upon that.
In 2015, the BBC & PBS adapted the first two books of Hilary Mantel’s excellent Wolf Hall trilogy into a six-episode miniseries called Wolf Hall, starring Mark Rylance as Thomas Cromwell and Damian Lewis as Henry VIII. Now they’ve made a second miniseries that covers the events of the third book, The Mirror and the Light. Here’s a trailer and synopsis:
The TV sequel picks up in May 1536 after the beheading of Anne Boleyn and follows the last four years of Thomas Cromwell’s life, completing his journey from self-made man to the most feared and influential figure of his time. These are years when Henry’s regime is severely tested by religious rebellion at home, traitors plotting abroad and the threat of invasion. Cromwell must deftly navigate the moral complexities that accompany the exercise of power in this bloody time; he’s caught between his desire to do what’s right and his instinct to survive. The question is: how long can anyone survive under Henry’s brutally mercurial gaze?
Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light premieres in the UK on BBC One on Nov 10 but Americans have to wait until March 23, 2025 to watch it on PBS.
Laura Olin’s newsletter of “art, internet, and ideas” is a favorite of mine (subscribe here), and I appreciated her comments from this morning on why sci-fi and fantasy movies work for moments like these.
I’ve never thought of myself as a person who’s particularly into sci fi or fantasy. But on the worst days — and yesterday was one — I find myself thinking of the essential lessons of art in that genre. Maybe because a lot of it is about people in dire situations making stark moral choices for a larger good — and for various reasons World War II parables aren’t really going to do it anymore, at least in America. We saw Rogue One in the theater soon after Trump’s first election and I took some strength from the image of (vague spoilers) Felicity and Diego on the beach, sacrificing themselves to give everything thereafter a chance. I’ve been thinking of the Battlestar Galactica reboot of the W. Bush years, with the fighter pilots touching a portrait of a comrade on a fallen planet on their way out to battle; of Stellan Skarsgard’s speech and “one way out” in Andor, which you must watch; of Katniss touching three fingers to her lips in a salute special to her community, and a crowd of people she can’t even see saluting back; of the fundamental text that is “Why must we go on?” / “Because there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.” Is all this cringe? Undoubtedly; but I think we’ve entered a time that requires deep earnestness. (I hope to come back to this paragraph in four years and feel I was being overly dramatic about how bad things might get but I suspect I will not.)
Trials rider Danny MacAskill finally got the chance to ride the angularly futuristic Adidas campus in Herzogenaurach, Germany.
The first time I got the invite to campus I immediately started riding the place in my mind. Riding all the rooftops, riding all the railings, you know, it’s a really interesting space. Not just anyone can go there! As soon as you see that kind of big overhanging piece of architecture or whatever, you immediately imagine the different things you could do up there. So, it was cool to finally get to come here to actually do it.
A pair of physicists from MIT and Jefferson Lab and an animator have created a new visualization of the atomic nucleaus.
For the first time, the sizes, shapes and structures of nuclei in the quantum realm are visualized using animations and explained in the video.
The video also establishes what appears to be a new unit of measure with an adorable name, the babysecond:
To better define the velocities of particles at such small distance scales, we establish the baby second as 10^-23 seconds. A photon moving at the speed of light crosses three femtometers (a bit more than the radius of oxygen-16) in one baby second.
So first of all, before you watch this analysis of Chris Marker’s fantastic La Jetée, you should watch the film itself if you’ve never seen it. It’s 28 minutes long, entirely in black & white, and is a “speculative fiction masterpiece” done with “422 photos, a voiceover, and a score”. You can find it streaming at Amazon, Apple, Criterion Channel, or Kanopy. You will not regret it. And then come back and watch this analysis/appreciation by Evan Puschak.
Somehow, I missed that the teaser trailer for season two of the excellent The Last of Us premiered almost a month ago. I guess both I and the world have been busy with other things and also keeping tabs on the entire interest and media landscape is just not something that’s possible.
The second season, based on the 2020 game The Last of Us Part II, follows Joel (Pedro Pascal) and Ellie (Bella Ramsey) five years after the events of the first season, and introduces Abby (Kaitlyn Dever).
And that “the season is expected to span seven episodes”.
When Nirvana played a huge stadium show in Buenos Aires in 1992, an all-“female/queer/trans” band called Calamity Jane opened for them. The crowd pelted the band with objects like coins and rocks, forcing them off-stage and infuriating Kurt Cobain. Instead of refusing to play, the band went out and played a bunch of songs the audience didn’t know, started but then didn’t actually play all of Smells Like Teen Spirit, and generally just had fun pissing the crowd off for more than an hour. Here’s the full video of the show:
A few of the fun parts are the two Smells Like Teen Spirit false starts at 7:34 & 10:29 and Come As You Are at 23:14 (“hey hey hey hey hey”). Here’s how Cobain tells it:
When we played Buenos Aires, we brought this all-girl band over from Portland called Calamity Jane. During their entire set, the whole audience — it was a huge show with like sixty thousand people — was throwing money and everything out of their pockets, mud and rocks, just pelting them. Eventually the girls stormed off crying. It was terrible, one of the worst things I’ve ever seen, such a mass of sexism all at once. Krist, knowing my attitude about things like that, tried to talk me out of at least setting myself on fire or refusing to play. We ended up having fun, laughing at them (the audience). Before every song, I’d play the intro to ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ and then stop. They didn’t realize that we were protesting against what they’d done. We played for about forty minutes, and most of the songs were off Incesticide, so they didn’t recognize anything. We wound up playing the secret noise song (‘Endless, Nameless’) that’s at the end of Nevermind, and because we were so in a rage and were just so pissed off about this whole situation, that song and whole set were one of the greatest experiences I’ve ever had.
Somewhere around the second song or so, there is a moment when I open my eyes to finally take it all in, and realize that the crowd is competing with us — they are shouting at us and flipping us off, and even somehow penises are flashed. This really does not compute at first, I am in super punk rock overdrive, but I notice that there is a ring of spit gobs surrounding me on the stage; I look across the stage to my bandmates and there is dismay, anger, and dare I say terror in their eyes. We are now being pelted with clods of dirt, coins, ice cubes, more spit, and inundated with shouts of a word I fully understand “Puta!” (Whore). Looking out on a sea of penises and middle fingers, it is evident that they are not happy, they do not like us, and they want us off the stage. It becomes pretty impossible to continue playing — I mean we aren’t the Sex Pistols — we don’t want the crowd to actively hate us!
Aside from a reunion gig in 2016, Calamity Jane never played again — the Buenos Aires show was their last.
In 2020, during the dark days of our first pandemic winter, Dua Lipa played NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert remotely from London, which is still the most popular Tiny Desk of all time (130M views). This week, NPR had Lipa ‘round the office for a proper set, with the singer playing four songs off of her latest album, Radical Optimism.
Befitting an artist whose newest songs often reflect the pursuit of personal growth — see: “Happy for You” — Lipa and her team breezed through the NPR Music offices with a mix of low-drama professionalism and unmistakable warmth. We’ve dealt with a lot of stars (and their teams) over the years, and as often as people ask us to dish about people who’ve been difficult, we’ve mostly accumulated stories of people who’ve been lovely to have around. Even among all those, Lipa and her people stood out: They were kind, gracious, fun and game.
High above the streets of NYC, Brazilian ballet dancer Ingrid Silva performs wearing a custom paper sculpture.
Revealing the rooftop of Renzo Piano’s New York Times Building for the first time, director Jacob Krupnick captures Brazilian ballet dancer Ingrid Silva against the Manhattan skyline at sunrise for short film Above. Dancing to music by Nils Frahm and wearing a custom paper sculpture by French artist Pauline Loctin, Silva moves between HVAC utilities humming 800 feet above the city, in an unseen space with an unexpected elegance.
This short video takes us on a trip through the criminal justice system and highlights a “hidden form of punishment” directed toward incarcerated people: fees. At every turn, people who are sentenced to incarceration are subject to tens of thousands of dollars in fees: bail fees, public defender fees, filing fees, court costs, mandatory contributions to funds like the state police fund, room & board, phone calls, money transfer fees, medical co-pays, and fees for post-incarceration monitoring. This is on top of any penalties that are paid by offenders.
We’re not talking about fines, those monetary punishments that judges impose on offenders. And this isn’t about restitution, which is an additional sanction intended to reimburse victims. Fees are far more insidious, functioning like predatory taxes that raise revenue for the government. They can vary from state to state, municipality to municipality, institution to institution.
And they can have severe economic consequences, particularly for people who are already broke when they enter the system — that is, most people who run afoul of the law. The resulting debts can destroy people’s credit, prevent them from voting and interfere with their ability to find employment and housing.
And guess what? People in debt turn to crime to pay their bills. This is all just another way that America’s criminal justice system is punitive and not rehabilitative.
Pony Boys is a delightful short documentary about two boys (aged 9 & 11) who traveled from a Boston suburb to the 1967 World’s Fair in Montreal by pony cart.
In the short documentary above, the “pony boys,” Tony and Jeff Whittemore, recount that as youngsters, they were unaware of the controversial questions the trip raises. What constitutes responsible parenting? Did their parents do something dangerous, or was it a brilliant parenting move that taught lifelong lessons? What they recall is a life-changing adventure made possible by a free-spirited mother who believed they could do it.
I love this: a carpenter fires his nail gun in time to the music of a band practicing or performing next door. Music, artistry, and playfulness is everywhere.
Kasso is a Japanese game show that’s like a skateboarding version of Ninja Warrior. A group of skaters is challenged to navigate a series of obstacle courses that require the street and park skating skills. Some of the obstacles are truly diabolical — to get the gist, check out these videos:
So first of all, this mashup of LCD Soundsystem’s New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down and a recording of Miles David from his Elevator to the Gallows score is just great to listen to musically. But the, let’s call it choreography, is brilliantly spare: a pair of YouTube videos pulled up side-by-side in a now-ancient Safari browser and pressing play to sync them by hand — jazz-like, improvisational.
If you’d like to try this yourself, here’s the LCD Soundsystem and Miles Davis videos; just press play on the David video at 32 seconds into the LCD video.
The trailer for season two of Silo, which starts on Apple TV+ on November 15. It doesn’t reveal much but I am excited to watch the new season! (No spoilers please from folks who have read the books.)
These solidly middlebrow shows like Silo, The Diplomat, and The Gilded Age are some of my favorites to watch these days because they are well-produced with quality actors but don’t tax the viewer (ok, me…they don’t tax me) as much as more serious fare like Shōgun, My Brilliant Friend, Severance, or Chernobyl (all of which I love to bits but sometimes feels like eating your vegetables, if you know what I mean). But a good media diet is a varied media diet and stuff like Silo is really hitting the spot for me right now.
My favorite presentation at XOXO this year was Ed Yong’s talk about the pandemic, journalism, his work over the past four years, and the personal toll that all those things took on him. I just watched the entire thing again, riveted the whole time.
Hearing how thoughtfully & compassionately he approached his work during the pandemic was really inspirational: “My pillars are empathy, curiosity, and kindness — and much else flows from that.” And his defense of journalism, especially journalism as “a caretaking profession”:
For people who feel lost and alone, we get to say through our work: you are not. For people who feel like society has abandoned them and their lives do not matter, we get to say: actually, they fucking do. We are one of the only professions that can do that through our work and that can do that at scale — a scale commensurate with many of the crises that we face.
Then, it was hard to hear about how his work “completely broke” him. To say that Yong’s experience mirrored my own is, according to the mild PTSD I’m experiencing as I consider everything he related in that video, an understatement. We covered the pandemic in different ways, but like Yong, I was completely consumed by it. I read hundreds(/thousands?) of stories, papers, and posts a week for more than a year, wrote hundreds of posts, and posted hundreds of links, trying to make sense of what was happening so that, hopefully, I could help others do the same. The sense of purpose and duty I felt to my readers — and to reality — was intense, to the point of overwhelm.
Like Yong, I eventually had to step back, taking a seven-month sabbatical in 2022. I didn’t talk about the pandemic at all in that post, but in retrospect, it was the catalyst for my break. Unlike Yong, I am back at it: hopefully more aware of my limits, running like it’s an ultramarathon rather than a sprint, trying to keep my empathy for others in the right frame so I can share their stories effectively without losing myself.1
I didn’t get a chance to meet Yong in person at XOXO, so: Ed, thank you so much for all of your marvelous work and amazing talk and for setting an example of how to do compassionate, important work without compromising your values. (And I love seeing your bird photos pop up on Bluesky.)
I hope that makes sense? Sometimes you can feel the pain of others so intensely that it renders you useless to help them or to keep yourself afloat. So you’re still empathetic and open to the experiences of others, but in a much more functional and constructive way.↩
Songs played back at much slower speeds were a thing several years ago — the effect can turn even the harshest rock song or bounciest pop tune into something that sounds like Enya or an ethereal Gregorian chant. I listen to these while I work sometimes and I’ve got a new one for the rotation: Radiohead’s Everything in Its Right Place, but played 800% slower.
I attended the XOXO Festival back in August, and video of some of the talks are starting to trickle online. I’m going to highlight a couple of my favorites here on the site; the first one I’d like to share is Erin Kissane’s talk about fixing the social internet.
The talk was about why I left the internet, how the Covid Tracking Project got me back online, and most of all how the work we did at CTP led to me to believe that we — the weirdos of internet-making and online life — have to not merely retreat from the big-world social internet, but fix it.
I really liked this entertaining short film by Eric Kissack (editor & producer for The Good Place), in which a couple moving into a new apartment together discovers a previously unnoticed feature of their new space, which in turn…well, I don’t want to spoil anything. Just watch it.
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