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.