I'm a lasagna boy!

fladry

A fladry [line] consists of rope with strips of fabric, often red, to deter wolve. Fladry lines have been used for several centuries.

According to Polish Scientific Publishers (Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN, SA), fladry is the plural of the German flader or flattern, "to flutter." Fladry is probably not related to the Polish flądry, the plural of flądra, which signifies either "a flatfish" or "a slattern" (from the 2002 Oxford PWN Polish English Dictionary, which is not available online, but see this paper on machine translation [pdf]).

In English fladry tends to be used in the plural only, meaning you can have “some fladry,” very rarely “a fladry,” and never “some fladries.” The term has a cognate in French.

Researchers from the University of Calgary discovered that wolves will not cross this type of barrier for up to 60 days when it encloses livestock. In addition, it has recently been adapted to include an electric current, called Turbo fladry, which may provide a longer period of protection.

In fear of fear

A most excellent series of ink drawings appears online, each depicting a certain fear (of bears, of beards) or a child in a certain fiendish scene: "Sadie's Hades", for example.

Vintila Banescu

The New York Times rarely comes close to the tenor and topic of a Paul Auster story, but consider this:

The 1975 Alfetta was hardly pristine. Panels had been replaced, its body was pierced by splotches of rust, and its maroon coat was faded by the sun. But it was still an Italian sports car, designed by Giorgetto Giugiaro, and it still made people stop. Mr. Banescu, who often wore a beret, was shy but friendly.

Sometime in early May, the Alfa stopped moving. Neighbors noticed, but then perhaps forgot: In Brooklyn, it was the summer of the parking spot, when the city announced that it was suspending the alternate-side parking rules in various neighborhoods as it replaced street-cleaning signs. Mr. Banescu’s car became one of dozens, maybe hundreds, of cars allowed to sit in the same space for months this summer.

Should I stay or should I go?

The New York Times has a question: to wit, should I stay or should I go? The question, prompted by the cross-walk signs that simultaneously show the Walk and Don't Walk icons,has an answer: "Call 311" (that's 212-NEW YORK, or 212-639-9675).

My photograph, above, came from a cameraphone and does not adequately show either how clearly the two icons are simultaneously illuminated, nor how prevalent these malfunctions are.

Le Tour du Chocolat

Amy Thomas, writing in The New York Times, has an idea after mine own heart: cycle from chocolatier to chocolatier, covering ground and sampling chocolates.

My solution: devote one full day to chocolate boutiques, and do it in style. So, on my last visit to Paris, I took to the city’s Vélib’ bike system and mastered a two-wheeled circuit of eight of the chocolatiers that had the best reputations and most glowing reviews in city guidebooks and online message boards. It was exhilarating and exhausting, not to mention decadent. It was a chocoholic’s dream ride.

The Vélib’s — industrial-looking road bikes that are already icons of Parisian-chic just a year and a half after the city initiated the program — made the moveable feast more fun. Progressing from pralines to pavés, I spun by the Eiffel Tower, zipped across the Seine and careened through the spindly streets of St.-Germain-des-Prés alongside other bikers: Parisians in summer dresses and business suits, their front baskets toting briefcases, baguettes and sometimes even Jack Russell terriers.

Practically speaking, the bikes were all but essential. How else could I cover five arrondissements in as many hours, while simultaneously countering a day of debaucherous extremes?

In which I see by my outfit

You have broken faith with the eight million gods of Shinto ... The footless dead will come to you when the grasses sleep and bitch in your ear.

יש דבר שיאמר ראה זה חדש הוא כבר היה לעלמים אשר היה מלפננו׃

Codex Sinaiticus. Although the screen controls tend towards inaccurate, seeing the codex itself in such clear reproduction is a joy. The lettering is beautiful and clear, and the accompanying modern text rendering useful for navigation. Now if only I could find a reasonable online edition of the Hebrew text .... Aha: looking through Google for the Hebrew phrase turned up a few sites with multi-lingual texts (and some imaginative renderings) of Ecclesiastes.
יֵשׁ דָּבָר שֶׁיֹּאמַר רְאֵה-זֶה, חָדָשׁ הוּא: כְּבָר הָיָה לְעֹלָמִים, אֲשֶׁר הָיָה מִלְּפָנֵנוּ.

Of courtesans and fish-cakes

[The Max Planck Institute] wanted Chinese classical texts to adorn its journal, something beautiful and elegant, to illustrate a special report on China. Instead, it got a racy flyer extolling the lusty details of stripping housewives in a brothel.

Chinese characters look dramatic and beautiful, and have a powerful visual impact, but make sure you get the meaning of the characters straight before jumping right in.
... The use of traditional Chinese characters and references to "the northern mainland" seem to indicate the text comes from Hong Kong or Macau, and it promises burlesque acts by pretty-as-jade housewives with hot bodies for the daytime visitor.

To be sure, the Romans of yore had courtesans; I expect classical Chinese society ditto.

The revolution will be televised

Different revolution, different cube, still fascinating. Also: JP Brown's Serious LEGO, All Too Flat's Astor Place Rubik's Cube.

H.M.

In 1953, he underwent an experimental brain operation in Hartford to correct a seizure disorder, only to emerge from it fundamentally and irreparably changed. He developed a syndrome neurologists call profound amnesia. He had lost the ability to form new memories.

For the next 55 years, each time he met a friend, each time he ate a meal, each time he walked in the woods, it was as if for the first time.

And for those five decades, he was recognized as the most important patient in the history of brain science. As a participant in hundreds of studies, he helped scientists understand the biology of learning, memory and physical dexterity, as well as the fragile nature of human identity.

A few months ago, the City Editor of The New York Times published comments on how the paper chooses subjects for its obituaries. And Bruce Weber wrote about writing obituaries.

In which weasels ripped my flesh

Necessity is the mother of invention.

An adventure, with coffee

Christoph Niemann is a genius. From the adventure of The Boys and The Subway to the story of coffee, his illustrations and dry prose make me laugh, make me think.

In which we don't confuse ourself with someone who has something to say