Yes, I WORE that shirt to church today, under my white shirt and suit, and
made certain to choose a white shirt thin enough for the design to show
through. Of course, I quickly and excitedly ripped open my shirt, Superman style, at any slight
provocation.
7.5 at 8:00, random incline. 2.5 at 6:58, -3% decline. My legs were sort of thrashed so I called it a day by finishing up with 10 minutes elliptical and then a few accelerations and drills on the astroturf.
I’m sure you can appreciate the artistry and manliness that is this man’s mustache. It’s great to set goals in life, and I think I’ve just inspired Burt.
Tobacco advertising, how ironic, "It's fun to be fooled . . . It's more fun to know." Now who really does the fooling?
While definately not-at-all laffy, I watched The Two Escobars last night. Disturbingly awesome documentary. (Be forewarned, if you can watch it some time it does have graffic real life situations and images.)
From Reuters: It's no news
flash that sports is big business. Even someone paying only glancing
attention to the World Cup knows how
athletes' performances on the soccer field are ferociously entwined with
national pride and identity.
But for Colombia's team in the early 1990s
-- whose ascent was made possible by a notorious crime organization --
the intensity of the connection between fans and players, and its
calamitous results, is a drama writ large, recounted in heart-stopping
fashion in "The Two Escobars."
The
gripping film, part of ESPN's "30 for 30" documentary series, screened
at the Los Angeles Film Festival and premiered on the sports network on
Tuesday, the 16th anniversary of the Colombian team's shocking defeat in
a World Cup match
against the United States.
Filmmakers
Jeff Zimbalist and Michael Zimbalist ("Favela Rising") trace the events
leading up to that 1994 game, revealing why Nacional took the field in a
state of mental torment. It's the story of the quick rise and fall of
Colombia as an international force in the world of soccer and of the
interwoven fates of a drug lord and a futbol hero, both named Escobar.
When the country stepped into the sports
spotlight, Pablo Escobar's Medellin Cartel was the focus of the U.S.'
war on drugs. He was said to be the world's richest criminal and
certainly was the most powerful man in Colombia. However bloody his
rule, he was a savior to the poor, building housing in place of flimsy
shacks and installing neighborhood soccer fields, where the stellar
players of the 1994 team had first distinguished themselves and found
escape from poverty.
Soccer proved
to be perfect for money laundering, and the tug-of-war between drug
lords sometimes ended in a referee's murder. The murder at the center of
this story involves Andres Escobar, beloved captain of Nacional. With
his humble, soft-spoken demeanor and good looks, he was dubbed the
Gentleman of the Field. His infamous "own goal" cost the favored
Colombians their shot at the World Cup, and led to
his death at age 27.
But the
Zimbalists show, too, the cause and effect between Andres' death and
that of Pablo six months earlier. They build their case convincingly, if
with a bit too much repetition. There's tremendous emotional energy in
their masterful use of existing footage, especially of games, and in
their present-day interviews with Andres' teammates, sister and fiancee
as well as with Pablo's relatives, colleagues and enemies.
At a time when Colombia was synonymous with
cocaine and "narco-soccer," the national team, in their bright jerseys,
represented something more immediate and real than hope: self-worth.
Argentine fans heckled them as drug dealers upon their arrival in that
country and gave them a standing ovation after they defeated the home
team 5-0.
"Escobars" captures the
passion and personality of a group of exceptional athletes and their
ecstatic bond with fans. Like goalie Rene Higuita's astounding
scorpion-kick saves, it's a story that often defies belief. It also is a
story that is all too grounded in the ways of power and money and
stupid brutality.
p.m. 4 at 3 at 8:30, 1 at 7:30 (at Hotel Warrick in Denver)
Another OK Go Video:
The director of “End Love” writes about how his team created the
video’s visual effects by altering the film speed:
The fastest we go is 172,800x, compressing 24 hours
of real time into a blazing 1/2 second. The slowest is 1/32x speed,
stretching a mere 1/2 second of real time into a whopping 16 seconds.
This gives us a fastest to slowest ratio of 5.5 million. If you like
averages, the average speed up factor of the band dancing is 270x. In
total we shot 18 hours of the band dancing and 192 hours of LA skyline
timelapse – over a million frames of video – and compressed it all down
to 4 minutes and 30 seconds! Oh and don’t forget, it’s one continuous
camera shot.
