Morning Linkage (Mar 3)

Transportation

This is so damned close to a tri­als bike, an under­pow­ered tri­als bike. The wheel size dif­fer­ence is odd. But what the heck. There are girls pic­tured. FX-Mountain Moto.

Google earth now has pic­tures of Pima and the air­plane bone­yard.

Bamboo ped­al bike frames. Wicked cool mate­r­i­al sci­ence and engi­neer­ing. (Thanks M2)

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Science

Cooking made us human? A look at the fos­sil record and what it has to say about the rise of big brains and cooked food.

A bit of back­ground on what an EVA entails and a guess at what it might cost.

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Literature

Project Gutenberg is now putting up a dai­ly RSS feed of new addi­tions. I find it help­ful to have less than the entire­ty of PG to browse when look­ing for some­thing to read. A few days ago I found : La Sorcière: The Witch of the Middle Ages by Jules Michelet. Lush bor­der­ing in hys­ter­i­cal, when you get to this sen­tence in the intro­duc­tion you just know you’re going to stick around to see the end.

Witches they are by nature.” It is a gift pecu­liar to woman and her
tem­pera­ment. By birth a fay, by the reg­u­lar recur­rence of her ecstasy
she becomes a sibyl. By her love she grows into an enchantress. By her
sub­tle­ty, by a rogu­ish­ness often whim­si­cal and benef­i­cent, she becomes
a Witch; she works her spells; does at any rate lull our pains to rest
and beguile them.”

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Art, Design, Architecture, and Images

Hydro-floors. How to have a pool and a yoga stu­dio in one space. It’s vast­ly cool.

A bit of a snick­er here. The com­mon milk cre­ate is essen­tial to camp­ing, even if you’re trav­el­ing by space capsule.

Charles Harper was a pro­lif­ic mid-century illus­tra­tor whose style you will rec­og­nize. In a nice mix of two of my favorite things, his  illus­tra­tions for the Betty Crocker Dinner for Two Cookbook. Scans on Flickr. I agree with Matt from Drawn, this one should be rewrit­ten and reis­sued with the orig­i­nal illos.

Tilt-shift video. Yes, video. A day in the life of NYC. Sam O’Hare. (Music)

I’m run­ning late, le sigh.