Pud of Fucked Company fame has set up a moblog engine for those with camera phones. I’ve been working on setting up my own, but was not able to get it ready in time for New Years. Anyway, I’ll be snapping photos all night long, and if you’re interested, you can see them here. Hopefully, I’ll have my own permanent moblog set up later this week.

Happy New Years!

Since this is the last day of the year, I decided I’d lay down some predictions for the coming year. And in honor of the 500th anniversary of Nostradamus’ birth, I decided to lay down my predictions in quatrain form. Here we go:

Dean will get the nomination
Or maybe not.
Clark? Lieberman?
Convention in Boston.

Cheese sales will increase
Then again, maybe not.
Who’s to say, really?
I like cheese.

Clouds will form
Darkness ensues
Something happens
And we watch it on TV.

There will be an election
In the great new land
Things will be decided
And it will be good.

Clown faced man goes to trial
As the bearded tiger sees justice.
War ensues, for numerical advantage
Court TV gets confused.

A loud bang
Something happens
Turns out it’s nothing
People move along.

We’ll revisit these predictions in a year’s time and see how I do. Maybe I too can be a prophet, just like Nostradamus.

In the midst of all your midnight revelries, be sure to look up at the sky tonight:

When the clock strikes midnight on Dec. 31st, heralding the start of 2004, dash outside and look up. Directly overhead you’ll see a yellow star outshining the others around it. That star is a planet: Saturn, having its closest encounter with Earth for the next 29 years.

“Saturn’s going to be really beautiful,” says NASA astronomer Mitzi Adams. “Not only will Saturn be about as close to Earth as it can get–748 million miles away–but also its rings are tipped toward us. Sunlight reflected from Saturn’s rings makes the planet extra bright.”

If you have a telescope, advises Adams, be sure to point it at Saturn. Even a small ‘scope will reveal the spectacular rings. “They’re breathtaking,” she says.

I don’t have a telescope, but I’ll be sure to step outside and look up. You can read more here.

A new mini iPod is due to be released:

Days after more than a million people paid up to ?400 for the most popular hi-tech toy of Christmas, the iPod, manufacturer Apple has announced a cut-price mini version (pictured right, actual size)

The iPod, a digital jukebox which can hold up to 10,000 songs, has been a worldwide hit in the past two months after Apple produced a version compatible with Windows computers. But now Apple is set to release a smaller version, costing ?65, which will be able to store 800 songs.

Looks cute. You can read more details here.

So the police aren’t my friends, eh? I’ll have to remember that when I see them all out at work tonight keeping us safe while America parties.

The collection is actually quite extensive. You can view the whole lot (some in French even) here.

God, it seems so long ago now, back when protesters were everywhere… I’m sure Boston will be crawling with nasties this summer with the DNC convention and all.

And here’s a list of good protest slogans observed on signs in the Philadelphia and D.C. areas.

And I always thought they were called unibrows:

Nepalese resident, Arjan Amir isn’t your ordinary mono-bro. In fact, Arjan lives amongst the of mono-bro elite. While most men inflicted with monobrowliosis practice the occasional trimming of the forhedge, Arj would never violate the sacredness of his forhead landing strip. This old monobrow veteran has never considered “man-scaping”. He knows the power of the brow will outlast all fads and current styles and in the afterlife, he will cross the great river and take his place with his fathers in the great halls of mono-men past.

If you dare, you can subject yourself to more of this at monobrow.com.

When you’re alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go – downtown
When you’ve got worries, all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know – downtown
Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?

The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go downtown, things’ll be great when you’re
Downtown – no finer place, for sure
Downtown – everything’s waiting for you

Downtown

This column seems to sum up pretty well why Michael Jackson is so weird:

Early on, Jackson was trotted on stage and told to perform. The Jackson family’s success was tied to this child’s ability to sing and dance. These intense demands and constant scrutiny twisted inward the child’s spontaneity and ripped to shreds any semblance of a healthy childhood. In the ensuing decades, Jackson corralled nearly $500 million as a pop icon and businessman. His wealth and fame further liberated him from the rules of social or economic accountability that define most people’s sense of self. Never a part of society, Jackson receded into a fantasy world complete with amusement parks, oxygen tanks and a chimp named Bubbles.

Bubbles. Wow.

Read here.