Half Past Noon

Gabe, I do have comments on your post, but first, you all need to welcome Tuesday by watching this video.

(Make sure you watch it all the way to the end.)

HT: FAIL Blog (of course!)

Pretty dang successfully, too. I love anachronism so much.

Total Eclipse of the Heart at the end is the best one.

Here is a video taken the day after Michael Jackson’s death, in Toronto’s Dundas Square. Completely spontaneous, just a bunch of folks dancing to his music. For the first few minutes, you can pick out people who clearly know the iconic Motown 25 performance, but if you get a feel for it and jump ahead to 2:30, you’ll see exactly why I occasionally miss big cities.

On a recent trip to DC, a friend and I ran into a vagrant that called himself the Black Rain Man. You could name any country in the world and he would rattle off a series of facts or a story in barely intelligible but beautifully rhythmic bumspeak. He entertained us for the while, constantly eliciting high fives and hugs from us. Never even asked for money.

The anonymity of the metropolis is a true tragedy, and I have felt the loneliness and isolation of New York City. Still, a vast sea of humanity like New York demands that some learn how to rise to the top, or even tread water. I’m often reminded of the talent, beauty, and sheer possibility of our fellow man in such places.

Also, they dress like homeschoolers. Not that either is a bad thing. I’m just making an objective, neutral, empirical observation.

All I needed was a write-up of this movie (Outlander) to know that

a) I needed to see this.
b) No one else I know would enjoy it.
c) This is a movie I could totally watch with Austin and love.

Friend, please tell me you haven’t grown so much as to leave such a movie as this behind!

It’s a miracle that I didn’t notice this earlier, but apparently my mind was utterly blown to smithereens at about 10:00 pm on Tuesday night, May 19th. It is a scientific fact that this clip and my wholly intact brain cannot coexist in the same universe; the fact that I just watched the pilot a few minutes ago is immaterial. Clearly, I’ve been dead for about a week now, and it’s a miracle that I’ve been able to dress myself for the last several days.

FOOM.

A, we owe Fox a debt that we will likely never repay. And apparently they owe me some serious reconstructive surgery and a new area rug.

This kid right here. As Mike C. points out – and rightly so – the slaps are the best part by far:

This made me cry, and I wasn’t even on drugs. It’s just that beautiful. (And I am proud of my sentimental heart.)

Watch, weep, and enjoy.

There’s really no other name for it.