Menfolk, impress women with instant burliness. // How to make Möbius bacon. // Batman’s many enemies, from Condiment King to Killer Moth. // How a bean becomes a fart. // It was the Seventies, everyone was funky. // “Fuck patriarchy.” // The patriarchy in action. // Pornographic sound design. // Iris the piglet likes bounding and belly rubs. // Clouds over Kansas City. // Cloud shadows. // Origami crease patterns. // Ranking the Bond cars. (h/t, Ace) // Volvos in North Korea. // We need to see the return of anti-cheating hats. // In auction news. // Stone mosaics. // Mr Marvin Gaye. // Hardcore dog lover. // What ants do. // And finally, in thrilling lavatorial news, “Earliest known wooden toilet seat discovered.” 

Theodore Dalrymple on language and “austerity”: 

This is not a question of whether the economic policy followed by the government is the right one or not: perhaps it is and perhaps it isn’t. It is a question of the honest use of words. One would not say of a man who passed from smoking sixty cigarettes a day to fifty that he had given up smoking, or that he had exercised great self-denial. And one would not, or rather should not, say of an organisation that had balanced its budget once in fifty years (the British government) that it was practicing austerity merely because it had to borrow a slightly lower percentage of what it spent than it did the year before. This is to deprive words of their meaning… If reducing the rate at which you overspend and accumulate debt is called austerity, no one will dare go any further in that direction, though it were the right direction in which to go.

But all that “austerity” and all those “violent” “spending cuts” are, as Julia M notes, making our artists angry: 

Now a new group of British artists and musicians are hoping to use art, song, theatre and words, as well as social media, to combat the coalition’s austerity agenda.

No, you mustn’t. Remember how scared we were the last time our artists shook their fists at us. One of the protesting artists, the Occupier and “urban poet” Rob Montgomery, tells us, “My art is about what capitalism does to your heart, and the inner child in you.” His deep, visionary radicalism can be savoured here. He’s teaching us, you see. Because he knows so much.

And Jennifer Kabbany on yet another fake “hate crime” and its vain fabricator: 

I was trying to make a point… now everyone has ideas on what type of person I am. I am none of these things… I am myself, I am caring and kind.

One to add to the rapidly growing list of kind, caring psychodramas. 

As usual, feel free to share your own links and snippets in the comments. It’s what these posts are for.

I suppose the chap in the background keeps one with him just in case.

Dreadlock Truth is a vital resource for fans of countercultural hair and the generally hair-conscious. Among its nuggets are tips on upkeep, colouring and decoration, and where to find accommodating employers. (Book shops and health food markets are recommended.) There are of course photo galleries. Other subjects of interest include energy-channelling, mushroom use, coping with flashbacks, and mental health services.

Oh, and there’s a lovely section on lice: 

Pull your dreads up and try to bun them up if you can, or at least pull them into a high ponytail. Use about a half bottle of rubbing alcohol (70% or higher)… Tie a plastic bag tightly around your head for about 30 minutes. It’ll itch and it’s annoying and stinky, but it’ll kill the bugs. Rinse, and watch the bugs fall out.

The site also includes message boards devoted to “dance and object manipulation,” with subcategories covering stilt-walking, juggling and hoop-dancing, and a section in which dreadlocked adventurers share their tales of “injuries sustained in the pursuit of happiness.” One 230 lb gentleman explains how, “I once almost knocked myself out dancing at a local concert,” while another devotee relates the perils of poi, a form of performance art involving the spinning of tethered weights, sometimes enhanced with glow stick chemicals and/or fire: 

I extinguished a flaming poi with my eye once. Luckily it was burning low and about to go out anyways.

Much to learn, so little time. Via MeFi. 

One day you will need that gallon of tabasco. // “Swedish town on alert over toilet invader.” He doesn’t flush. // Finger hands. // Spider fangs. (h/t, MeFi) // Miracle breakthrough in butter-spreading technology. // MSG redeemed. // Cooking with Miles Davis. // Includes cauliflower. // Eel Pie Island, where rockers rocked and hippies gathered. (h/t, Coudal.) // His dad used a leaf blower to make him a hovercraft. // Selfie of note. // Road sign of note. // Extruded topographies. // Otter likes kibble. // By cutting paper. // Clothed models, nude photographer. // A giant carpet made of begonias. // At last, a drive-thru brothel. // This woman’s work. // “The wasps built the nest by chewing through the pillows and into the mattress.”