Breathless – Futility Closet I wonder if this was the equivalent of IM speak translators for parents. —— Drawing it across the lips: Desiring an acquaintance Drawing it across the cheek: I love you Drawing it across the forehead: Look, we are watched Trump’s blocking of Twitter users violates U.S. Constitution: rights institute | Reuters A free-speech institute on Tuesday sent a letter to President Donald Trump demanding the prolific tweeter unblock certain Twitter (TWTR.N) users on grounds the practice violates the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. Major league litter — Can a strategic bat toss turn trash into treasure? Anytime the batter makes contact with the ball, he drops his bat, and for as long as that ball is in play the bat stays there, literal deadwood, a three-pound piece of trash cluttering up the area around the plate. Like most litter, the bat is usually passive pollution. It gets flung off into the periphery by the batter, and it sits there until a bat boy comes to sweep it up. Sometimes it’s left to be a nuisance, knocking around the catcher’s feet until he or the umpire kicks it out of the road. Very occasionally it gets turned into art, as in the case of a beautiful bat flip. Safe Visual Data Exploration Exploring data via visualization […]

you-draw-it – bl.ocks.org How to do that awesome draw/predict the chart interactive piece from NYT Where To Catch Me For personal reasons, I stopped accepting ordinary speaking engagements in August 2002. Your offer will have to be exceptionally interesting to pass my filters. The Final Flight of Martin McNally | Feature | St. Louis News and Events | Riverfront Times But nothing could have prepared McNally for the interference of a young Florissant businessman, David Hanley, who was among the bystanders ogling the drama from the terminal. Hanley did not remain a bystander for long. As the jet taxied down the runway, its massive engines revving in preparation for takeoff, Hanley’s 1971 Cadillac Eldorado crashed through the runway’s perimeter, battering through a fence at 80 miles per hour on a collision course with Flight 119. The plane, heavy with fuel, was essentially a bomb with wings. Over the intercom, the captain’s voice crackled with panic. “Oh my god, there’s a vehicle on the runway!”