late summer flowers
hair in eyeball socket dream
Chernobyl as art
“Search Term Haiku” is a series wherein I examine this site’s log files and construct one or more haiku poems from search terms and phrases that led visitors to the site. Where possible, I attempt to keep the search phrases intact. However, as these are haiku poems, I do need to follow the rules.
The seventh Tilde Gravitywerks homebrew: a ginger-spiced saison featuring Sorachi Ace hops that, as spring ushered in, became Indicant Veris: 1
The truck travels from town to town. On the in-town boulevards, the truck creeps along, but you feel certain that it blasts along the highways at incredible speeds. It shifts its shape with each glance. A tractor trailer one moment, a box truck the next, then a van. When it comes to rest on your street, it seems to melt sideways until it has re-formed and then blossomed into a food truck. Open at the side, a bar reaches out and grabs purchase on the curb. Stools sprout from the concrete. (The bartender-cum-driver could have stepped off the set of Deadwood.) He (she?) polishes glasses with a white cloth. Each glass is larger and more preposterously shaped than the last. Behind the bartender are rows and rows of tiny drawers. Like card catalog or apothecary cabinet. The bartender takes your temperature, reads your palm, smells your hair. She (he?) reaches into a dozen of the little drawers and with drawers two dozen different ingredients. Shaves of this. Grated bits of that. Squeeze. Twist. Peel. Mash. Macerate. Muddle. Mixed into increasingly larger glasses. Layers of colors (blood red at the top over orange over a golden yellow over a purple sediment). And finally a mushroom with a cap the size of a dinner plate is floated on top for garnish. “Enjoy.”
define dramatic
PhantomJS unit tests
pulling hair from eyes
“Search Term Haiku” is a series wherein I examine this site’s log files and construct one or more haiku poems from search terms and phrases that led visitors to the site. Where possible, I attempt to keep the search phrases intact. However, as these are haiku poems, I do need to follow the rules.
RE: Building with AngularJS, JSPM, Babel, Gulp and ES6
Unfortunately, it’s a very birds-eye view of putting these pieces together, but it’s still worth checking out because it gives a glimpse of what it might be like. The AngularJS-specific bits offer nothing new (and frankly feel a bit out-dated), and I’m still just lukewarm on Gulp – but what’s particularly interesting is the combination of JSPM and Babel, and how that empowers developers to start using ES6-style JavaScript today.
Oh by the way, I’ll be part of the Vermont Tales of Science 1 reading on Saturday, March 14th at 4pm at Quarterstaff Games in Burlington, VT. You should come!
Thomas McGuane with bits like:
People don’t really eat pizza in Montana. There are no secretaries here.
And:
I like writing that’s a bit more direct because I hope the subjects are difficult enough that they can supply all the indirection that I could possibly manage.
And also:
There comes a point where I have to declare a truce with the text or I’ll keep fooling with it forever.
Fascinating interview on NPR’s All Things Considered re: his new collection, Crow Fair. More than worth the 7 or so minutes. Go check it out.
Homebrew #6 was my third solo brew as Tilde Gravitywerks: a British style bitter (and/or English pale ale) which I wound up calling Little Ponder:
eye testing unit
Soviet propaganda
late summer flowers
“Search Term Haiku” is a series wherein I examine this site’s log files and construct one or more haiku poems from search terms and phrases that led visitors to the site. Where possible, I attempt to keep the search phrases intact. However, as these are haiku poems, I do need to follow the rules.
Homebrew #5 was my second solo brew as Tilde Gravitywerks. I brewed up a California Common and dubbed it Acorn Steam:
