“Developer 1: How do you tell if a child is dead?
Developer 2: What about the parent?
Developer 1: If the parent is dead …
Developer 2: Then the children become zombies. Why does that happen?
Developer 1: Usually it’s some kind of fatal error.
Developer 2: How does that happen?
Developer 1: I’m not sure, but I think I can detect when the child is dead …
Developer 2: But if the parent is dead and the children are still alive …
Developer 1: They’re not really alive. They’re zombies.
Developer 2: So we have to figure out how to tell when the children are zombies.
Developer 1: And how to kill the zombie children.
Developer 2: Do the parents know when the children are sick?
Developer 1: Do we have a way to restart dead children?”—And then they started about parents forking their children. My office is a cesspool of immorality.
Any suggestions for the beneficiary of the charitable auction for the Nick Denton pancakes painting? I can always just do the NYC Food Bank, but open to other ideas. The entity in question needs to be signed up (or be willing to sign up) as an eBay Giving Works nonprofit. Reblog with ideas or email email@example.com.
“Those were the happy days (and nights), say the venerable toffs — those old days when the century was young and New York was really Babylon on the Hudson! When a champagne-and –lobster supper at Delmonico’s or Rector’s was a blow-out fit for a swell; when the gamblers, jockeys and sports kept the taps open all night at the Metropole, the Hoffman House or Jack’s; when the dining, dancing and gambling establishment of Dick Canfield was as accessible to the right people as the Times Square subway station and a tuxedoed stag at eve had only to rap the silver head of his cane upon a door to gain admittance to any one of a hundred gay resorts — those were the blessed years when night life had color and flair!”—"New York’s Night Life Burgeons Again," Bosley Crowther, NYT, 2/24/1934