Not a shoe bomber among them.

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…1972 also brought the tail end of a five-year hijacking epidemic, during which at least 130 commercial flights were seized in the United States.

via Brendan Koerner: 1972, The Year of the Skyjacker | New Republic.

 

Keynes vs. Hayek, and no one wins.

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OK, now here goes the potential story.  We did fiscal austerity, it was self-defeating, that was a major factor, and we ended up in…a better budget situation than we had been expecting?

via Have we seen self-defeating austerity in the United States?.

 

Best still lifes since the 1600s.

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So I decided to focus on the quirkiest requests and shoot them in a Flemish Baroque still-life style because I felt that there was a direct connection between the themes in these types of paintings and the riders: the idea of time passing and the ultimate mortality of a musician’s career as the limelight inevitably fades—they only have a short time in which they are able to make these demands and have them fulfilled.

via Henry Hargreavess Photos of What Famous Musicians Eat Backstage | VICE United States.

 

Vomit: it’s the best indication that the dog just loved it.

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To meet nutritional requirements, pet food manufacturers blend animal fats and meals with soy and wheat grains and vitamins and minerals. This yields a cheap, nutritious pellet that no one wants to eat. Cats and dogs are not grain eaters by choice, Moeller is saying. “So our task is to find ways to entice them to eat enough for it to be nutritionally sufficient.” This is where “palatants” enter the scene. AFB designs powdered flavor coatings for the edible extruded shapes. Moeller came to AFB from Frito-Lay, where his job was to design, well, powdered flavor coatings for edible extruded shapes. “There are,” he says, “a lot of parallels.” Cheetos without the powdered coating have almost no flavor.

via The Chemistry of Kibble | Popular Science.

 

‘You Should Have Known Beta,’ a One-Act Play

A true story. Scene, a Brooklyn pet store. A customer, a beautiful woman, is buying a beta fish. She is also interrogating a store clerk, a thick-necked man, about why her previous fish died unexpectedly. The action is joined in the middle of the conversation:

CUSTOMER, worriedly: So you don’t think temperature was the problem?
CLERK, with confidence: Well, temperature is a problem. You don’t want it to be too cold or too hot.
CUSTOMER: So do you think that was it?
CLERK: Temperature? No.
The clerk pauses and looks ahead thoughtfully.
CLERK: Well, it is hard to say. You know, from what I saw of your fish.
CUSTOMER: Why’s that?
CLERK, gesturing to the back of the store: Because it was in four or five pieces.

On Warm Plastic Sacks

For however often you pick up the shit, however much you love your dog, the hideousness of the task does not diminish. However deep the lesson of good citizenship has sunk, to walk down the street with a sack of faeces in your hand, looking for that elusive next bin, is a humiliation.

via The tyranny of your dogs turds | Robert Hanks | Comment is free | The Guardian.