I Found The Perfect Brunch Place For You To Ruin

 

        Hey, I’ve been thinking about you!

        Just last Saturday I was feeling bored with the city, so I took a meandering drive out of my usual territory and stumbled across the coolest little brunch place that you’re going to have the best time ruining.

        Fletcher’s Kitchen is a old converted Victorian mansion. Cracked white paint on the outside, green shutters, a porch where you can hang out while waiting for your table. Of course, after you’ve taken to Twitter and announced your new find to your 1,100 jaghole followers, the porch will be roped off when stamped-out cigarettes are found there too often.

        Inside is a handful of little round tables, salvaged from a local train station cafe after it closed. They’re perfect for a party of four, or for one person to spread out with books and a laptop. I’m sure they’ll be willing to drag four of them together when you arrive with your group of twelve, including three people who won’t be there for half an hour because they have to hit the gym first.

        The walls are lined with shelves of gorgeous old books: you can pull one off the shelf and read while you’re there. The owner and chef, a woman named Alex Fletcher, is a retired librarian; The books are her private collection. I leafed through Treasure Island while waiting for my order. I forgot how beautiful the original illustrations are. The books will be removed when your buddy’s three-year-old, Maxim, tears the pages out of an early edition Bleak House.

        The menu, printed on old parchment card stock [they’ll switch to laminated copier paper when your followers keep stealing them to admire for a month and throw out] is simple: pancakes and eggs. Most of their ingredients are local but no, they won’t be able to tell you which farm produced the cilantro. Or “scrounge up” a balsamic reduction because you can’t eat eggs without it these days. Or make half a pancake mixed with barley for your dog.

        A big basket filled with homemade muffins sits on the counter:  a server brings the basket around to your table and you choose your own. After you lose your mind that the last peach-cinnamon muffin was given to the person before you, the basket will stay in back. The only flavor will be bran.

        An old upright piano sits in the corner; Sometimes local musicians, friends of Alex, will stop by and play. When I was there a woman sat at the piano playing jazz, and a young man — maybe her son, or a high school student — accompanied her on violin. Soon they’ll be drowned out by you shouting directions into your phone for the friends coming from the gym, or shouting some new goddamn impossible omelette item to your server.

        When I visited, Alex even came out from the kitchen to see how I liked the eggs. I told her they were perfect, and she glowed with pride. [You’ll eviscerate them in your Yelp review for being cold after you let them sit on the table for twenty minutes while taking pictures of them.] “I’d always dreamed of having something like this,” she told me, wiping her floury hands on her apron. “The first six months have been promising. Please, tell your friends!” I promised her I would.

        Six weeks from now Alex will be diagnosed with heart palpitations from chronic stress. Remember to tip your server. [You won’t.]

 

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Facesniff - Sniffing facebook accounts via android

Firesheep is een applicatie voor android waarmee men facebook accounts kan sniffen. In bovenstaande film wordt dit proces uitgevoerd.

Ik had u graag volgend advies meegegeven: ga op facebook naar “Account” (rechtsboven de pagina), kies “Accountinstellingen” en selecteer aan de linkerkant “Beveiliging”, ga naar de optie “Veilig Browsen” daar kies je ervoor om “Facebook via een beveiligde verbinding (https) gebruiken (indien mogelijk)” aan te vinken.
Zo kan je een Facesniff aanval blokkeren en vermijden.

Daarnaast zijn er nog tal van andere bedreigingen aanwezig wanneer men verbinding maakt met Wifi spots, dus wees voorzichtig!

ART BLANCHE: Strange Days

Jim Morrisson was not so fond of the cover for The Doors’ first album that featured a rather close up image of his own face. His displeasure with it was actually so strong that he then refused to appear on the cover of their second album, Strange Days. That left the band in a predicament — what should be on the cover if it wasn’t going to be them?

At the time, the big trend in album artwork was for bands to use psychedelic images, but The Doors simply didn’t want to do that. Instead, they wanted their album cover to be different — to be strange. So, photographer Joel Brodsky proposed an idea inspired by Federico Fellini’s influential film La Strada; he envisioned the cover as group of street performers strolling around New York City showing off their skills. The band liked the idea and Brodsky went ahead with it.

This is where things get a little tricky. Instead of getting a permit to photograph in Sniffen Court, Brodsky just gave the local residents association $500. Contrary to popular belief, photogenic street performers aren’t actually on every city corner. In fact, the only true street performers on the Strange Days cover were the acrobats — everyone else was some sort of phony. The juggler was Brodsky’s assistant who didn’t really know how to juggle, and kept ruining shots because he wasn’t the best at fake-juggling either. The strongman was just a local bouncer from the Friar’s Club. On the back cover, the model in the doorway was simply a friend of Brodsky’s wife.

The two midgets were twins that were hired specifically for the shoot. As actors, and not models, they were initially hesitant about modeling but eventually agreed to participate on the condition that they were hired together. The funny thing is that while only one of them is on the front cover (the other being on the back) they’re actually featured in the same photo. When shooting the cover, Brodsky took a panoramic image that was long enough to cover both the front and back of the album. If you put the two covers side-by-side, you can see that they’ve been cropped from one larger image.

All that said, the funniest story from the Strange Days cover goes to the trumpeter. He was a cab driver that Brodsky saw on the street and paid five whole dollars to pose with a trumpet for the photo. The reason Brodsky chose him: he just really liked the look of his hat.

The real lesson in all of this is that you should never go anywhere without a cool hat because you never know where it will get you.

-Dylan Singleton

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