A few weeks later I found her card sitting on my desk and thought I might as well send her an email, just letting her know that I appreciated her art. She wrote back thanking me, but also saying that she’d followed a link in my email “signature,” found a photo that I took in Tasmania, and wanted to create a painting from it. Amazing. I said, “Hell Yeah.”

Here’s the photo:

And here’s the painting:

You can see her other work at Studio Hartig.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older
Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long
And wouldn’t it be nice to live together
In the kind of world where we belong

You know its gonna make it that much better
When we can say goodnight and stay together

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up
In the morning when the day is new
And after having spent the day together
Hold each other close the whole night through

The happy times together we’ve been spending
I wish that every kiss was never ending
Oh, wouldn’t it be nice

Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray it might come true
Baby then there wouldn’t be a single thing we couldn’t do
We could be married
And then we’d be happy

Wouldn’t it be nice

You know it seems the more we talk about it
It only makes it worse to live without it
But lets talk about it
Oh, wouldn’t it be nice

Anyhoo, I looked up how to post to WordPress by email because I knew I could type emails in landscape mode. I configured my secret post-by-email address and then started typing up this blog post. About one paragraph in I goofed big time and sent the email prematurly. Oops!

I fired up the WordPress App again with the intention of deleting the post, finishing the email, and then reposting. But, upon revisiting the app, I found that I can, in fact, use it in landscape mode, so I went ahead and finished it…

Right back where I started.

If a Martian came to earth and tried to understand what humans do from reading most literature published today, he would come away with the extraordinary impression that we mostly spend our time falling in love — and occasionally, murdering one another. But of course, what we really do is go to work – and yet this “work” is unseen, it is literally invisible and it is so in part because it is not represented in art. If it does appear in consciousness, it does so via the business pages of newspapers, it does so as an economic phenomenon, rather than as a broader human phenomenon.

The modern mystery of how things are made

Two centuries ago, our forebears would have known the precise history and source of almost every one of the limited number of things they ate and owned. They would have been familiar with the pig, the carpenter, the weaver, the loom and the dairymaid. The range of items available for purchase may have grown exponentially since then, but our understanding of their genesis has grown ever more obscure. We are now as imaginatively disconnected from the production and distribution of our goods as we are practically in reach of them, a process of alienation which has stripped us of opportunities for wonder, gratitude and guilt.

The world is covered in factories and warehouses, but it is impossible for the lay person to go into them or even approach them. Despite their importance, they have no desire to advertise themselves to the public. In business parks, they are spread out across sites of determined blandness marked by gentle gradients, ornamental trees and expanses of preternaturally green grass.

When we think of tourist destinations, we don’t think of the places of work. Why, endowed as they are with both practical importance and emotional resonance, do cargo ships, port facilities, airport warehouses, storage tanks, refineries and assembly plants go unnoticed, except by those immediately involved in their operations?

Finding beauty in the industrial world

In an essay entitled “The Poet,” published in 1844, the American writer Ralph Waldo Emerson lamented the narrow definition of beauty subscribed to by his peers, who tended to reserve the term exclusively for the bucolic landscapes and unspoilt pastoral scenes celebrated in the works of well-known artists and poets of the past. Emerson himself, however, writing at the dawn of the industrial age, observing with interest the proliferation of railways, warehouses, canals and factories, wished to make room for the possibility of alternative forms of beauty.

It was Emerson’s strategy to lead his readers by example, to encourage their evolving sense of what might be attractive by demonstrating that he himself, a trustworthy guardian of high culture, was capable of recognizing the appeal of a signal box and a chimney stack, and that a range of hitherto unlikely objects could therefore be safe for all to love.

The exception to the rule: Trainspotters

There is, of course, one particular kind of person who breaks the normal rules: I am thinking of spotters of ships, lorries planes and trains, the kind who give up weekends to admire the giant moving parts of our mechanized world. Whatever their inarticulacies, the spotters are appropriately alive to some of the most astonishing aspects of our time.

They know what it is about our world that would detain a Martian or a child. They take pleasure in sensing their smallness and ignorance next to the expansive intelligence of the modern collective mind. Standing beside a docked ship, their heads thrown back to gaze at its steel turrets disappearing into the sky, they enter into a state of silent, satisfied wonder, like pilgrims before the towers of Chartres. Nor are they ashamed to seem eccentric when their curiosity demands it.

Take note of our new kind of landscape

The spotter’s pastime harks back to the habits of pre-modern travelers, who, upon arriving in a new country, were apt to express particular curiosity about its granaries, aqueducts, harbors and workshops, feeling that the observation of work could be as stimulating as anything on a stage or chapel wall – a relief from a contemporary view which tightly associates tourism with play and therefore steers us away from an interest in aluminum foundries and sewage treatment plants in favor of the trumpeted pleasures of musicals and waxwork museums.

How ignorant most of us are by contrast, surrounded by machines and processes of which we have only the loosest grasp; we who know nothing about gantry cranes and iron-ore bulk carriers, who register the economy only as a set of numbers, who think — even now — that it is only about money, who have avoided close study of switch gears and wheat storage and spare ourselves closer acquaintance with the manufacturing protocols for tensile steel cable. How much we might learn from the spotters at the ends of piers and runways.

Restoring work to the human world

At a time when recession is reminding us how badly we need work, it should be artists who teach us to discern the virtues of the furniture of contemporary technology. One can hope for a day when photographs of electricity conductors might hang over dining tables and when someone might write a libretto for an opera set in the sales office of a packaging firm. We need art that could function for our times a little like those eighteenth-century cityscapes which show us people at work from the quayside to the temple, the parliament to the counting house, panoramas like those of Canaletto in which, within a single giant frame, one can witness dockers unloading crates, merchants bargaining in the main square, bakers before their ovens, women sewing at their windows and councils of ministers assembled in a palace – inclusive scenes which serve to remind us of the place which work accords each of us within the human hive.

Finding meaning at work

We need an art that can proclaim the intelligence, peculiarity, beauty and horror of the workplace and, not least, its extraordinary claim to be able to provide us, alongside love, despite the current economic mayhem, with the principal source of life’s meaning.

The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work is the new book by acclaimed philosopher Alain de Botton. Despite the fact that work is the central part of almost every man’s life, it has become invisible in our culture. In his book, De Botton makes a case for work — as opposed to leisure — as a source of inspiration for art and celebration.

During this period of economic turmoil, employment is on everyone’s mind. Maybe it’s time for us to re-consider how work fits into our visions of happiness and life balance.

Anyhoo, like I was saying, it got me thinking about this new domain I bought recently, and I’ve decided to use that domain to give this blog a new home. It’s not a huge deal, but I thought it best to let the internet know of this change before it happens. For those you that like to type in “elisfanclub.com”, you can continue to do so and it will continue to take you on a magical word journey the likes of which you’ve never experienced before.

But for those of you that like to subscribe to an RSS feed, you are going to need to take some proactive action here. You will need to add the following RSS feed to your feed reader:

http://blog.eliduke.com/feed/

It’s not active yet, but it will be soonish.

You have been warned.

While we were balancing our asses off, Cedar looked up the availability of Toy Story 3D tickets for Cary and Steve-o on her internet phone, but the only showing it had available was 7pm. It looked like the 8 o’clock showing had already sold out. Bummer. It started to get cold, so Cedar and I took Michael home, leaving Cary, Steve-o, and Brandon at Cary’s house.

We left there and went over to Robin’s parents’ house for dinner & dogs. It was hilarious. Purcy was barking all crazy when we first walked in, then he switched right over to the whimpering and was really excited. He kept climbing on me, and I shot some video for Robin. I storta felt bad that we had to eat dinner so quickly and then run out to catch the movie, but it was awesome and I’m super glad that we went. Robin’s parents are the best.

TOY STORY & TOY STORY 2 3D DOUBLE FEATURE

We showed up at the theater at 7:45 for our 8pm showing, went to the Fandango Robot to print our tickets, and then walked over to the ticket taker. He said, “Hmmm… these don’t have a barcode on them,” and I was like, “but we just got them from the robot over there.” He concedes and lets us through to theater #5. We walk in to find Toy Story had already started, and it was about 45 minutes in.

What was going on?

We walked back to the ticket taker, and he sent us to the box office. I showed them our barcode-free ticket, and she said, “Oh, that showing was canceled.” What?! Canceled!? You can cancel a showing of a movie?!!! She said something happened earlier in the day that shifted things around which bumped the 8pm showing out of the picture. But… we bought tickets that say 8pm right on them, how can you do this? It was strange, but they gave us a full refund and free tickets to the 7pm showing. It wasn’t a big deal, I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen these movies before. Right? Right? Ahh, you don’t care.

It was truly spectacular: the animation, the characters, the STORY. The FUCKING story. Pixar writes some of the most well written screen plays ever. The visuals are stunning, clever, well articulated, and always a step above the competition. They are masters of their crafts: animation & story telling. Sometimes it feels like they started out being geniuses (Toy Story is still amazing), but I know that the magic is only the result of hundreds (millions?) of thousands work hours.

And the intermission was HILARIOUS! You’ve got to see it.

The drive home was interesting. Somehow I took us exactly where we needed to go, but I hardly had any confidence in my decisions. I didn’t make a single wrong turn, but every turn sure felt like one. It was strange.

It’s starting to feel a bit more real. I’m actually flying to NZ tomorrow. :)!!!!

Also, I have an idea for a series of alternate Pixar movie posters that I’m gonna try to get Pixar to make for me. More to come on that one.

Ghostface Killah talks about hygiene for 13 minutes

And then follow along with the transcript below. Enjoy.

Yo yo yo, this chapter right here, son… Y’knowimean, I’m gonna take y’all niggas on that– on some real shit, man. This is strictly about living, man. Lotta y’all niggas ain’t livin’ right man, ain’t living righteous, man. Ain’t livin’ well, man, or swell. Y’knowimean? So yo, man. You know what I’m sayin’? I don’t give a fuck, man. From cleanin’ yo’ ass, nigga, to brushing your motherfuckin’ teeth, y’knowimean? Walkin’ around here like a zombie, nigga. Y’knowimean? Like, yo, man, you gotta snap out of this or—there’s a lot of shit you gotta snap out of, man. Y’knowimean ? So yo, we gonna go on a journey, man. Check this shit out.

Y’all motherfuckers sleepin’ too much man, especially sleepin’ all night, sleepin’ all day… like y’all ain’t got nuttin’ to do! Y’knowimean, yo, shit is too valuable out here, man, time is money man! Y’all niggas spend a lot of y’all time in bed, man! Sleepin’, man, not doin’ nuttin’, man! Funky ass niggas, man! Not washin’ yo ass and shit, man! Y’knowimean, it’s time to get up with some new ideas, man! Y’knowimean, y’all niggas don’t even know how to invent shit, man! Think an of invention! Make a new toilet bowl or somethin’, man! You know what I’m sayin’? Do somethin’, man! Y’all motherfuckers, man, y’all niggas kill me, man, it’s time to get up, man! Snap out that bullshit! Walkin’ around here dead, man, word up! One!

Yeah, y’all niggas walkin’ around here with mad crust in yo eyes and shit, nigga. Make sure you clean that shit, man! Nobody wanna see a little… rotten-ass face, y’knowimean, with that white shit all in the corner of your eye, man! Get that up out of there, man, that’s not nice, man, that’s not a good look for you. You feel me? Get that shit up out of there. You too old for that shit, man! Y’all niggas actin’ like y’all five years old, man! Y’all niggas gotta stop suckin’ yo thumb too, man! Y’all niggas, man. Word up, man, I see y’all niggas, man. I’m talkin’ to y’all niggas, man. Word.

Yeah, y’all niggas got—yo, I’m tellin’ y’all, man, when y’all get up in the morning, man, don’t just brush your teeth, man, scrub your tongue, man! Scrub that fucking halitosis off that fucking tongue of yours, man! Word up! This is real talk right here, man, Tony from New York, man! Scrub your tongue, man, that’s where all your bad breath– your little fucking corroded bacteria be runnin’ around, tap dancing on y’all fucking tongue at night, son! Word up! Y’knowimean, dried-up food, nigga! Niggas got that food tongue, man, wake up mouth smellin’ like shit, son! Y’knowimean, ‘cause it– it’s all in your fucking mouth, son! It’s GROWIN’ on that shit! Y’knowimean? Scrub that shit, son! Put some toothpaste on that shit, brush yo teeth and scrub your tongue, man! Scrub your lips and all that shit, man, I don’t give a fuck! Stick the toothpaste, the toothbrush down your fucking throat if you have to, my nigga! Word up! Get that shit up off there, man! That’s not nice. That’s not a good look, son! Brush your fucking teeth EVERY DAY, man, because your mouth, y’all might not care to smell it, but y’all shit is smellin’ like MAD SHIT, son. Y’knowimean, brush your fucking teeth, man, do it hard, man! Brush them shits ‘til your gums bleed, my nigga! Do somethin’ man! Throw– Swallow a box of bakin’ soda and peroxide, nigga! And throw a little bit—This how you do it. Brush your teeth, throw some Listerine in there too, at the same time, man! Your shit gonna be on fire, but it work!

Yeah, for y’all niggas that got mad bumps and shit, son, that be coming on your faces and shit, like I had and shit? Yo, hot water, nigga. Hot water, sizzle them shits off, man. Y’knowimean? It’s like, yo, you could fuck around and put some alcohol on that before you go to bed at night though, but if you get a warm– a hot rag? A real hot rag, like that project hot water? And you soak that motherfucking towel, that your washrag inside the water, and hurry up and put it on your face like “fuck it”? You could scream with that shit! Y’knowimean, That shit, that shit gonna– that shit gonna heat ‘em down a little somethin’. Y’knowimean? Especially for y’all niggas that got bumps growin’ on your nose and shit. Lookin’ like the Wicked Witch of the East, my nigga! Y’knowimean, sizzle that shit! Y’nahm sayin’? Y’all motherfuckers, yo. And not gonna front: Proactiv work. That shit work! That shit work… the refinin’ mask. Y’knowimean, like, that shit get it off in like, one night, nigga.

Don’t be– y’all niggas that be fuckin’ with that bird bath shit, thinkin’ y’all clean? Like you gonna go into the bathroom and just wash your nuts and wash your face, man? Y’knowimean? That’s not cleaning yourself! Now I don’t give a fuck how much soap you put on your little bird-ass chest, nigga! Y’knowimean? It ain’t workin’, my nigga! Y’knowimean? Get your ass in a shower, son! Get between your toes, nigga! Wipe your ass, nigga! And you wipe your motherfucking– when you get in the shower, nigga, for niggas who don’t know how to take showers, WASH YOUR FUCKING FACE FIRST, man. THEN wash your nuts. Don’t wash your nuts and then wash your face! You feel me? You goin’ backwards! Y’knowimean? Lotta y’all niggas don’t even KNOW that shit! Y’knowimean? And scrub hard! Scrub your balls hard, nigga, scrub your little dirt off your ankles, nigga, that when you was a little kid you couldn’t get ‘em off and shit! Y’knowimean, shit kept stickin’ it and– even though how hard you tried, nigga, get the– Y’knowimean? For y’all niggas that got that shit, man, y’all niggas ain’t clean, man. Word up, man. And have a bitch get your back. Because your back is dirty, son. The back of your ass AND the back of your back! That’s right, yeah, scrub that shit, nigga. Clean your ass with the– motherfucker, with the best soap, nigga. The best soap from the heavens above, nigga. That’s Dove.

Be careful. I mean, you know, whatever whatever, to each his own, though, but… that milk? That coffee? Y’knowimean? Hot chocolate and shit? Milkshakes? Son, you fuck around you be shittin’ on yourself and you got somewhere to go that’s mad important, man. Y’knowimean? I’m tellin’ you, G. Don’t just get up and act like you drinkin’ some milk, nigga, and you about to bounce. ‘Cause you gonna fuck around and shit on yourself. If you stuck in traffic, nigga, you gonna shit on yourself. Y’knowimean? I’m tellin’ you, so just take it… take it from me and shit. Y’knowimean? It’s like, yo. I’m your man. P Tone, we army riggin’ the building, nigga. Know what I mean?

Lot of niggas don’t know how to get busy. Lot of y’all motherfuckers just throw on whatever whatever whatever and just think that’s what’s poppin’, man, and it’s not poppin’, man. Y’knowimean? Yo, when you step out your crib, man… just make sure you match, man. Make sure you match, man. Don’t be coming out, say, out on some– some fucking– like you Rainbow Man or something like that, G, with mad different colors and shit in your shit; your gear ain’t– ain’t ain’t ain’t— you attire ain’t proper, son, Y’knowimean? Make sure your swagger is good, you up to par, Y’knowimean, you decent. You decent. Y’knowimean, you ain’t gotta come out looking all superfly and dapper and all that shit, but just make sure that your gear is like– you official. Y’knowimean, you could take the wackest gear, but make sure your gear – that K-Mart gear or whatever you wearing, son – is, is, is– you official with it. You bringing the steez to it, Y’knowimean? Lot of niggas don’t know how to get busy. Lot of y’all motherfuckers just throw on whatever whatever whatever and just think that’s what’s poppin’, man, and it’s not poppin’, man. Y’knowimean? Make sure your foot game is official. A bitch don’t like you to step to her or act like you trying to bag her with your foot game… your toes, your shoes is all bent up, Y’knowimean? At least, if your jeans is fucked up, man, and you got a decent pair of kicks on, you might be able to pull a bitch. Y’knowimean, she might go for it. Y’knowimean? Your haircut game gotta be live, too. Just make sure your cut is– if your cut is good, and your kicks is good, you might get the bitch. A lot of y’all niggas ain’t live, Y’knowimean? Out of a hundred niggas, it might be, like, ten live live live that’s superlive niggas. The rest of y’all niggas is BIRD NIGGAS. Straight up. Y’knowimean? The type of niggas that just get punched in the face all day. Robbed all day, stuck– niggas that was gettin’ stuck for they cupcakes, man, back in fucking high school, nigga, like in junior high, nigga, niggas takin’ your buttercrunch, nigga. Y’knowimean, we know about that shit, nigga. Y’knowimean, so yo, like I– like I say, man, out of a hundred niggas there might be like ten live niggas out of a hundred niggas, man. And which one are you, nigga? Point it out, nigga. And is you sure about that, dude?

And yo, all y’all niggas that’s out there buyin’ your jewels from the back of The Source? You need to sit the fuck down. Y’all making the jewelry game fucked up right now! And y’all Source niggas that’s puttin’ that shit in the back of The Source! Y’knowimean? Y’all niggas, man… every rapper, wanna be a rapper, you know, you automatically gotta have a chain. That’s what make you a rapper. Y’knowimean? Fuck that chain shit, man, if your jewels ain’t– princess cut, invisible settings or whatever, son? Your shit is blinging like the disco ball in the club? If your shit ain’t doin’ that, SIT THAT BULLSHIT DOWN, son. You gonna get killed for nothin’. You gonna die for nothin’, nigga! Y’knowimean? You’re gonna get stuck for nuttin’! Nigga go to cash in your little bullshit jewels, your shit worth like five dollars, man! Y’knowimean, those stones ain’t real, son. Do it big, man. When you do it, man– if you doin’ big things, when you do it big, you’re gonna do it big, man. Nobody want to see no cloudy shit around here, son. Nobody want to see rocked-up cigarette smoke, son. Y’knowimean? This is– That’s cloudy shit, some cloudy shit, Y’knowimean? Changing the forecast with that shit. Y’knowimean, the sun was just in here, you gonna come with the cloudy shit. It ain’t right, nigga, you ain’t right, you fucking the game up with that shit, man. Do it big, man, when you do it – stay out the back of The Source, nigga. Y’knowimean? Word up. And stop robbin’ them bullshit niggas for they little bullshit jewels because it don’t amount to nothin’, nigga.

Y’all bitch-ass niggas wearing Capris, nigga. Y’knowimean? Ohhhhhhh shit, man. I don’t know what’s up with niggas, man, with they gear game, man. You know what I’m sayin’? Tony keep it mad official, son. There’s only certain shits you can catch me in. Y’knowimean? I be seein’ niggas out there, look like they wearin’ gauchos and shit, son. Y’knowimean, kneed knickers! Like them bitches! Bitches be rockin’ knickers and shit, niggas be rockin’ knickers like bitches and shit. Y’all little bikers– y’all bikin’ niggas, man, them spandex niggas, man: TAKE THAT SHIT OFF, man, put some real shit on, man. Y’all niggas belong in ballet class or somethin’, man! Y’all niggas is ballerina niggas on bikes! Straight up! Come out that soft shit, nigga! Y’knowimean? Get off that Speedo shit, nigga! You know what I’m sayin’? This is real– this is real nigga shit, this is real– this is real shit in here, man! Word up, man! Sweaty palms, soft hands niggas and shit, man… Y’knowimean, I don’t like dealing with y’all niggas, man. I don’t– don’t shake my hand when you fucking see me, G. This is real talk, man. Start spazzing on y’all niggas man. Y’knowimean? Word up, man. Fix your dress code, nigga. It’s your boy. Holler.

Yo, y’all niggas is foul, man. How you gonna let your man step outside, G, and have that little white shit in his mouth and shit, and he out here kickin’ it with y’all niggas like he just ate mad fuckin’ corn flakes or somethin’, man? Dried out milk around the side of his mouth like he stuck his tongue in a bottle of powder or somethin’, man. Y’knowimean? Y’all niggas is– y’all niggas, that ain’t right, son. Y’knowimean? A nigga come around, if that’s your boy, man, holler at him! Tell son to get that booger out his nose, son! Y’knowimean, tell son to get that motherfuckin’, that– “yo, wipe your mouth, son”! Y’all niggas gonna sit there, and see a nigga with food on his teeth or somethin’, and not say nothin’. Y’knowimean, you may have not seen this nigga in years, you gonna let him go– you gonna let him– you gonna let him go ahead and go to church with that shit on his lips or on his teeth or… Y’knowimean, wherever the fuck he goin’ and shit. You know what I’m sayin’? Nigga goin’ to the fights with greens on his teeth. Y’knowimean? Nigga on the floor, he fight with collared greens on the floor, bends his back tooth or somethin’ and shit, y’all niggas see that shit, nigga! Let that nigga know, son! You know what I’m sayin’? Stop frontin’, man! That’s not nice, though, that’s not a nice… that’s not a– that’s not a nice thing to do, man, Y’knowimean? If it’s me, son? And I got a fucking booger on my nose or something like that, man, HOLLER AT THE BOY, man. Tell it, yo say, “Yo Tone, that’s not looking real right right there, my nigga! Get that green kickball out your fucking nose or somethin’, nigga!” Y’knowimean? I’m gonna be, “Ohhhh, shit, word? Oh, alright, true, true… you got it, my dude!” Y’knowimean, that’s what it is, “Good lookin’, good lookin’! Word up, there, I was about to just step to that bitch right there, son…” Y’knowimean? Word up, man, set me free, man! On some Martin Luther King shit, man! Stop playing, man, word up! I know what to do, man, it’s Tone, man!

Excerpt from The World According to Pretty Toney
Words by D. Coles, transcription by Robert Sosin

via the Maximum Fun Forum

http://flickr.com/elisfanclub

A few days ago I decided to see if Google could help me find the largest Flickr Photostream. Unfortunately, that search returns 2 results which both point to the exact same blog with a link to GiddyGirlie’s Photostream which has about 16,000 items. Certainly nothing to sneeze at, but still about 10 grand short of mine.

My next thought was to just straight up ask Flickr: who has the largest Photostream?

Hello Eli,

Thank you for contacting Flickr Customer Care.

I am very sorry but at this time, we can’t release this sort of data.

Thank you for your interest in Flickr.

If you have any other questions, please feel free to reply to this email.

Thank you again for contacting us.
Regards,

Araceli
Flickr Customer Care

They can’t release that sort of data? Why not? I mean, there was a virtual pissing contest to see who had the largest Twitter Following, so I asked them why they can’t release that sort of data.

Hello,

Thank you for contacting Flickr Member Support.

I have escalated your email to a senior representative in
an effort to obtain the best answer. We are currently
experiencing a very high volume of requests. We would like
to apologize and inform you that it might take a little
longer than usual for us to respond to your question.

If you have any other questions, please feel free to reply to this email.

Thank you again for contacting us.

Regards,

Flickr Member Support

They escalated my email to a senior representative? Wow. Maybe this was a bigger deal than I thought; they might actually divulge their secrets! So I waited a few days and got this response.

Hello elisfanclub,

Thank you for contacting Flickr Member Support.

Due to privacy reasons we can’t release this sort of data.

Thank you for your interest in Flickr. If you have any other questions, please feel free to reply to this email.

Regards,
Marcela

Oh, come on! They “escalated my email” and then that’s all I got? For crying out loud! Why couldn’t the first person just tell me that? Sheesh!

Then a friend of mine had a good idea. What if I ask a more direction question? What if I ask if *I* have the largest Flickr Photostream? So I did, and this is what I got back.

Hello elisfanclub,

Unfortunately we are not able to make that kind of statement.

But we truly appreciate you choosing Flickr for sharing your photos.

Thank you again for contacting us.

Regards,
Marcela

They can’t make that kind of statement?! What a weird thing to say. Is this classified information? What are they afraid of, Photostream envy? I’m just a curious person, and I thought this would be a simple question / answer sort of thing, but Flickr had to go and make it a bigger deal than it needed to be. So, I’m gonna rally the troops.

Attention Fellow Flickrites!

This is an official call to the Flickrverse to find the largest Photostream. Leave your comments here if you find any account with more than 24,000 items (photos & videos). If Flickr won’t help us, let’s help ourselves.

Spiders

If for a moment you can put your fears aside, please make an effort to appreciate what spiders do.

Spiders secrete silk from an organ on the underside of their abdomen called a spinneret. The large majority of spiders have 6 spinnerets that “move independently and in concert to build webs.” Most use those webs to catch their prey (with sticky and non-sticky threads that they maneuver with ease, sensing vibrations), but some spiders “fish” with a sticky “capture blob” of silk on the end of a line, and some even create trapdoors. Typically spiders “prey on insects and on other spiders, although a few large species also take birds and lizards.”

Upon capture, spiders inject their prey with venom, then “they liquidize their food by flooding it with digestive enzymes” because their “guts are too narrow to take solids.”

Here is a fantastic specimen that I noticed in the shed.

The complexity and scope of the web is had to capture in one picture. The dome that you see there is supported by dozens of smaller lines attached to the wall, some going almost 2 feet up.

Notice where the ends of the legs tug on the web. :)

Info source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spider