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I am fascinated by architecture and design. I have no idea how an architect does what an architect does. I can truly say that I have not knowingly met an architect in person.

How lame is that?

I hear the February 2007 issue is great.

I’m a subscriber.

Where’s my copy?

UPDATE:  They are sending out a replacement copy. Yay!

Technorati tags: Metropolis, magazines, subscriber

James Governor of RedMonk covers the serious fine Nationwide just got in the UK. [HERE and original post HERE]

This post immediately left me with the feeling (and it’s an oogie feeling) that the country in which I reside is completely borked when it comes to data security.

Private companies would get slammed by leaking private information in every country, except the US.

And if a financial institution compromised or lost personal information, they would face real fines, except in the US.

These must be gross generalizations. So prove me wrong.

After suffering with some negative reactions to my medications this weekend, I decided to do some research. It took a little longer than I expected because the information is gloriously hard to find, and I was drooling like an ether fiend in a wolverine pen.

It turns out that Bupropion inhibits the effectiveness of Paroxetine and magnifies the effectiveness of Trileptal. Of course the drug interaction studies are buried right next to Hoffa, and only a few of us lunatics actually blend this mindful cocktail to produce enhanced states of sanity.

So, off I go, down the path of medication adjustment once again.

Maybe if I fly off to Switzerland and check into one of those very private clinics I can get all of my bodily fluids flushed. Have my body completely dried out…look like Reagan on a bad day…then have them added back in the proper order, and the proper amounts. Then maybe the madness will end.

For some, it’s ether; others, mescaline.

For me, it’s modern design and architecture magazines on glossy paper.

Feel the silky smoothness — empty the mind — buy — it’s what everyone — strange rumors.

My wife doesn’t understand my fascination with Hunter Thompson. There are only a select few who do.

What most people don’t understand is that living with manic bipolar is living with Hunter inside your head every day. Raging. Screaming. Shooting at the peacocks while the sun rises. Spraying my optic nerve with a rogue fire extinguisher. Delivering calla lilies to soothe me when he has stepped over the line, laughing at me, with me, simultaneously.

That screaming vitality that HST lived every single day is bottled inside me, caged, rattling the bars, threatening to call a 450-pound Maori solicitor to beat some logic into my skull, from the inside out. The highly-attuned vision. Echoing sounds of madness. Inability to pay attention to the droning emptiness of my work life.

Some would call this a nightmare. Some days I do. Most days, I rock back on my heels, scratch my chin, grin, and smile. I know that the world around me is always in his sights, ranting, providing a constant commentary, arms waving manically, Chivas spilling on my synapses, another typewriter brutally blasted in the snow.

Hunter is the model of what rages inside me. The echo of a life restrained, held in check. Cursing the days lost.

I’ve been sitting on these thoughts for a while now. It takes a while to walk out to the end of the pier and stare into a sensitive issue that is likely to provoke a very strong reaction from so many people.

On February 3, Joi Ito published a snippet that opened some people’s eyes to racism in Japan. [here]

My in-laws are more than familiar with this. In the early 1970s, they spent a year and a half living in Japan while my father-in-law covered the World’s Fair for the Globe and Mail.

My brother-in-law was born in Japan. But before they allowed my mother-in-law into the delivery room, they made her sign a form stating that the child that was about to be born would never claim to be Japanese and would never seek any of the benefits of Japanese citizenship.

From Joi’s article, things haven’t improved much in 40 years.

I finally watched the movie version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas yesterday. Not bad, considering that the movie has been out for 9 years.

One of the things that I want to raise with the folks who have spotted the OBVIOUS HST cameo, is that he makes two. Not only does he show up in the club/acid scene, but he is riding shotgun (and likely holding one) in the desert rat scene.

Guess most people aren’t baked enough to spot him yet.

Going to Chicago for a client meeting tomorrow. Use Skype to reach me, or show up at Topolobampo tonight around 20:00 (8:00PM) CST.

This Moleskine hack is perhaps the best I have seen. [here]

Ninth Wave Designs has taken a Moleskine and turned it into an ancient alchemical tome. Cruise the Flickr stream to see all the fantastic designs.