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The Toronto Standard, a Digital Revival

Having briefly existed between the years 1848 and 1850, the Toronto Standard reemerged last night, April 7, 2011. From the cold ashes and forgotten name of a defunct printed newspaper to an internet media startup, 161 years later.

“The Toronto Standard is a daily digital briefing on the life of the city, covering urban affairs, business, technology, culture and design — and all the sparks that happen in between.” (about)

One of the first articles is written by Navneet Alang, From Handwringing to Hope: the Future of Media. In it the author addresses the future of media in a digital culture, an appropriate topic considering that the Standard is a youthful face in that same tumultuous industry.

The website, made by the development company Playground, is clean, easy to read, with a black and white color that harkens back to a newspaper legacy. The horizontal reading frames, which have been taken down for maintenance, are a step in the right direction for comfortable online reading. Horizontal reading is a rare treat on a website, and it’s refreshingly good to see someone else undertake a horizontal reading extension similar to that advocated by design mogul Frank Chimero.

If you a Torontonian and you care about media or what happens in the city you live in, keep an eye on the Standard. If a first impression tells us anything, they will have a lot to offer.

My Dad, the Objectivist

Soon, however, I began to question whether my father’s philosophical beliefs were simply a justification of his own needs. As soon as the legal drama erupted, he refused to pay for even the smallest things, declaring, “Your mother is suing me,” in defensive sound bites, as though it explained everything. (Salon)

In this Salon article, writer Alyssa Bereznak realizes that Objectivism, like all philosophical systems, runs into problems when applied in the real world, instead of the world of Ayn Rand’s novels. For instance, real world people are not invincible heroes (as Rand’s characters are usually drawn. See: John Galt and Howard Roark). People in the real world can still hurt each other, and in the real world the good guys don’t always win.

Did Ayn Rand ruin the author’s childhood? Or is it more likely that her father carries the greater part of the blame? It is not necessarily the ideas that are odious (though they can be), so much as the way they are interpreted.

“From what I understood of his favorite capitalist champion, any form of altruism was evil. But how could that kind of blanket self-interest extend to his own children, the people he was legally and morally bound to take care of? What was I supposed to do, fend for myself?”

Blaming Rand, or any other philosopher, for her father’s hard-lined selfishness and lack of financial support would be classic scapegoat-ism, like blaming Friedrich Nietzsche for World War II, to use an extreme example.

But the author doesn’t do that. Because when it comes down to it, she realizes that rigidly adhering to any set of principles, whether it be religion or politics or philosophy, easily disintegrates into hard-headed dogmatism of the worst kind.

Public Intelligence in the US and the UK

Files released by MI5 describe a bungled Nazi attempt to undermine the American war effort with sabotage in the summer of 1942. The report is written by intelligence officer Victor Rothschild.

Eight Germans who had lived in the U.S. were dropped along the Eastern seaboard _ four on Long Island, the rest south of Jacksonville, Florida. They were to go ashore, blend in, then begin a campaign of sabotage against factories, railways and canals, as well as launching “small acts of terrorism” including suitcase bombs aimed at Jewish-owned shops.

But the plan started to go wrong almost as soon as the men left their “sabotage camp” in Germany.

They went to Paris, where one of the team got drunk at the hotel bar and “told everyone that he was a secret agent” _ something, the MI5 report notes, that may “have contributed to the failure of the undertaking.”

* * *

In related news, the FBI created a searchable digital archive containing over 2,000 files. It is called The Vault. From my short perusal of the database, I learned that Marilyn Monroe applied for a visa to visit the Soviet Union in 1955, and that the word “attache” still sees common usage in such reports.

Other topics include Alcatraz Escape, John Dillinger, David Koresh, and Roswell UFO.

[via Newser and Gizmodo. Image from The Vault.]

Before I die….

In an innovative collaborative art project, artist Candy Chang turned the side of an abandoned house into a group chalk board. Entitled Before I die.., the community art project has blank spaces for passerby and people living in the neighborhood to respond with their hopes and dreams.

Rugby Star Facing Axe Murder Charges

Is revenge ever justified? A shocking article by the Sydney Morning Herald reports that a former Rugby player became a vigilante with an ax. The duality of the situation is apparent in the second part of the introduction:

“[He] allegedly hacked three people to death in a revenge attack after his daughter was reportedly gang-raped and infected with HIV.”

Is he an avenging father who will now outlive his child? Or is he just another sociopath?

Britishman Not Part of Protest Assaulted By Police, Later Dies

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Skulls in the Attic (Results, 100 Words Project #2)

humanskullcloseup

These are the results from our second #100Words writing project.

Eight people submitted. Choosing a winner was extremely difficult because all of the entries were excellent. It took a while but eventually we were able to narrow it down to just one: JC. Congratulations, JC. Lord of the Flies is in the mail.

Thank you to everyone who submitted, glad to hear you enjoyed the challenge. Another contest is planneed for next month, so keep checking back.

Winner’s Plug:

Charicreatures – The Amazing Art of Genevieve Tsai

* * *

The Winner

by JC

The dome of the skull gives way like wafers under my fingers, but I’m not paying attention to it anymore. Instead, my eyes go to the black sheet covering the massive pile of something this skull rolled out from under. My mind’s eye gives life to the dozens of bulbous shapes forming its outline. The skull falls to the floor, forgotten.

I am no longer amazed at how cheap rent is. Speaking of… wasn’t my landlord supposed to swing by today?

I pull the ladder up as I hear the front door open, a weathered voice calling my name.

* * *

(The rest of the entries after the break)

—read on »

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“The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

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