Ken Habarta has a collection of notes written by unarmed bank robbers. They range from the polite and apologetic,

Please place all the money on the counter. No (dye) packs or tricks. I am armed. Thank you! I’m sorry!

To the blunt,

I have a bomb, put all your money on the counter.

And grandiose,

You have 15 seconds to put at least $9,000 in $100s & $50s in front of me. Alarms, dye packs, bait money, tracking devices, or follow me out, will equal death. My briefcase will inflict a deadly wrath on all of you in this bank if you follow me. Time starts now!

Others attempt emotional blackmail,  

Give me money or I will blow up a school.

This example, written by Mr Kevin Pinto, may seem unremarkable,  

This is a holdup. Give me 100s, 50s, 20s. Hurry up.

However, the “hurry up” has an almost comedic aspect given that Mr Pinto, who robbed ten banks over a period of six years, committed each robbery during his lunch break. Pinto was employed as a financial compliance officer by the investment firm Paradigm Capital. He was sentenced to six years in prison.

Ken Habarta’s book Bank Notes may also be of interest. Apparently Tuesday and Thursday mornings are popular robbery times. Via Coudal.

Thomas Balmes’ documentary Babies is released April 16, 2010.

With Christmas in mind, Anna directs us to Vulva Love Lovely, foremost retailers of “handmade feminist love.”  

We make many different types of feminist body positive products: beautiful, hand sculpted vagina pendants, uterus plushies, vulva portraits, vagina pillows, and reusable cloth menstrual pads.

Sadly, the graphic nature of certain “body positive” items prevents their display here. This is, I maintain, a classy joint and the swooning couch is still in storage. However, I can draw your attention to the impressive range of uterus plushies, lovingly detailed with smiles, ovaries and facial hair. Behold, for instance, the Frida Kahlo Uterus Plushie, which features an imposing mono-brow and “an unyielding creative presence.” As you can see, it’s a celebration of womanhood:  

Microscopes, dentist chairs, a life sized Aston Martin.

 
These are a few of the things Chris Gilmour makes with cardboard and glue. 

A tale of baseball and LSD. (h/t, Metrolander) // Two words: Sky sharks. // Contact title sequence. // Alternative Star Trek pilot. “Starring George Takei as Chief Physicist.” (1965) // Superhero box office. // Superhero nursing home. // 100 Hong Kong apartments. // Automotive babe magnets. // Attention Xbox users. // My tree house is so much better than yours. // An archive of The International Times. (h/t, Dr Westerhaus) // “Hide the decline” T-shirts. // Snug space capsules. // Undersea restaurant. // Deep sea beasties. // Jewellery made with human teeth. // Jump to 1:20 for the jet powered merry-go-round. 

John Meredith steers us to another Classic Sentence from the Guardian. Two, actually.

I’d like to say that this encounter has propelled me to carry the bag with defiance, but instead it has left me slightly bruised. I’ve since bought an incredibly sombre pair of jeans – unusual for me.

So says Mr Charlie Porter, writing of his polite yet clearly traumatic encounter with Canary Wharf security. 

All I needed for the day was a notebook, my iPod Touch, a Kindle and some keys. They all slotted snugly into a patent red zip-up bag by the young London menswear designer James Long.

Looking sharp, Mr Porter.

And it’s not just rather fabulous. It’s also a political statement.

I find the word “manbag” such a bore: it is often used mockingly, and it categorises what I think should be category-free.

Then the horror began.

Since 1994, a Pakistani activist who founded the Progressive Women’s Association “has documented 7,800 cases of women who were deliberately burned, scalded or subjected to acid attacks, just in the Islamabad area. In only 2 percent of those cases was anyone convicted.”

When terrorism is personal.

A word of caution. The images are graphic and possibly distressing. Note how often the captions read “familial dispute” or “rejected him for marriage.”

Via Brain Terminal.

It’s the car horns that do it. Related: My Mashed Potato is Telling Me Something.

Speaking of the Arts Council and its casual arrogance, Karen steers our attention to this little nugget:

Ah, dance, poetry and epileptic fitting. A fine night out by anyone’s standards. But how will this gesture – sorry, seizure – be achieved? Isn’t it all rather messy and difficult to predict?

Chocolate, booze and fasting?

And it’s interactive too. How terribly modern.

Earth, baby. // Andrew Zuckerman’s birds. // Heavy metal in Baghdad. // Mandelbulbs. (h/t, Dr Westerhaus) // Inside LSD. // X-rayed speech. // Public sector morality. // The pop-up book of phobias. // Play Attack of the 50ft Robot. // A dress with 24,000 LEDs. // 28 balls. // Drilling for whisky. (h/t, Dan) // “The interior of the earth is extremely hot, several million degrees.” That’s actual science, people. // Effects porn. // Find your perfect partner with DNA. // A possible lair for the Guild of Evil™…? // It just isn’t home without bombproof wallpaper. // Ride the Nautilus. // And, via The Thin Man, it’s Mr Neal Hefti.