Business cards made of meat. // Mighty bugs. // Beetle weapons. // Chinese cave school. // Potholes of note. // Photographs of Paris. // East Germany, 1990. // End of rainbow found at last. // On matters theological. // When hippies blather. It’s a crystalline vacuum, man. // Drum kit made of ice. // A history of wine. (h/t, Coudal) // Dollar bills versus lasers. // Octopus versus cuttlefish. // The sounds of games arcades, 1984. // Fun with orbital dynamics. (h/t, The Thin Man) // The shapes of UFOs, 1968. // The circles of hell. // And, via The Thin Man, it’s Mr Lester Flatt & Mr Earl Scruggs.

Daniel Finkelstein considers a well-worn phrase:

Between 2003-2008, I found more than 200 different murderers or murder victims who were described by their neighbours as “keeping themselves to themselves.”

Several examples are quoted, including this rather infamous one:

In the dark, someone was at the stank, pulling masses of rotting flesh from the drains, slopping them into black bag after black bag. It was their neighbour Dennis Nilsen. A civil servant who kept himself to himself.

But why is this not entirely helpful phrase deployed so readily?

There are two possible explanations for this. The first is that people who keep themselves to themselves are substantially more likely to be murdered or murderers than other members of the population. I suppose this is possible. But I did note that there were more than 50 footballers who were also described as keeping themselves to themselves in training. This – and the fact that the phrase appears to be British and isn’t used to describe for instance American murderers or murder victims – leads me to the second explanation.

This is that we all copy each other when asked to provide descriptions by the media. The political scientist James Stimson notes that opinion pollsters frequently get people to opine on issues they don’t actually have an opinion about. He calls these fake opinions “non-attitudes.” I suspect “he kept himself to himself” is the crime equivalent of a non-attitude. The neighbour doesn’t actually know anything. Although perhaps their ignorance is caused by the murderer or murder victim actually keeping themselves to themselves.

Giant dancing robot spiders. // Can a helicopter lift a plane? // An AK-47 made from bacon. (h/t, Mr Eugenides) // Bacon-flavoured vodka. // Assorted hipsters. // High speed Scrabble. // Calligraphy and light. // Tools of the optician. // The degrees of online friendship. // Free B-movies. // Cat Shit One: The Animated Series. // Retro-electro version of Bohemian Rhapsody. // Time travel cheat sheet. How to reinvent the past. // Behold the Electrochef. // The life and times of Gameboy. // The growth of Las Vegas. (h/t, Coudal) // The museum of menstruation. (h/t, Anna) // “I’d rather not waste my time trying to convince smart people that they are actually smarter than stupid people.” // And, via The Thin Man, it’s Mr Tommy McCook.

Dr John at Obscene Desserts steers us to a compendium of furnishings found in 70s Danish porn. It’s quite safe for work, though the transgressive retro décor may inflame the senses.

Brace yourselves.

Tea-bag lights. // The writhing Sun. // The white heat of bacon. // ToneMatrix. // Assorted rocket sleds. // Backyard roller coaster. // Wake-up calls for astronauts. // Enterprise makeovers. // A Wolf Loves Pork. // These images aren’t Photoshopped. (h/t, Coudal) // New York composites. // Das Kapital: the musical. // More eggshell art. // Extinct video recorders. (h/t, Things) // Recurring dance moves in Disney films. (h/t, DRB) // On phantom limbs. // Eating beaver. // Cuddly microbes. // Because owls need love too. // And, via The Thin Man, it’s Frank and Bing.