Think global, listen local
: Greg Allen has a great idea — collecting taxi music:
…the encounter rekindled a project I’d begun several years ago but abandoned: TaxiMusic.net….
I’d been in the habit of asking taxi drivers wherever I went if they had a tape we could listen to. The response was almost always the same: “you don’t want to listen to it; it’s ______ (Punjabi, Urdu, Island, Ethiopian) music,” followed by the floodgates opening on an enthusiastic explanation of what the music means. (“She loves the boy but cannot meet him.” “This is the Koran; it’s a prayer.”) Somewhere in our storage unit is a shopping bag of my own, full of tapes I bought from taxi drivers over the years before weblogs and mp3-streaming winamp.
Better yet, let’s get taxi drivers weblogging: real moblogging.
News is everywhere
: Bill Quick has a new vision for a weblog he’s about to try out, so check it out.
: Alireza has dramatic photos of the Bam citadel before and after the earthquake.
: Pedram also has pictures he took when he was a tourist in Bam.
: Cory Bergman at Lost Remote asks: Who would air Saddam’s execution?
Oh, the poor Queen
: First, her children turn out to be twits. Then a dog murders her pooch. And now a historian says that Queen Elizabeth is not the rightful monarch of England. Instead, it’s an Aussie forklift driver.
: The comments over at the History News Network are crackling with a schoolyard brawl among various luminaries: Christopher Hitchens, Todd Gitlin, Sean Wilentz. Enjoy. [via Relapsed Catholic]
: The mad cow came from Canada.
You are what (they let you) eat
: Jackie is watching a sad British reality show — the debate by MPs trying to natter and nanny their citizens’ diets:
Before falling asleep, I’d been deeply engrossed in a BBC Parliament broadcast of a meeting of the House of Commons health committee. Representatives from Cadbury Schweppes and Pepsi were trying to explain to the MPs why TV advertising of junk food shouldn’t be banned. The MPs quite frankly didn’t seem to get it, with one (whose name I forget) saying with no small amount of awe in his voice, “The more effective your advertising, the more crisps and chocolate bars you’ll sell!” No sugar, Sherlock.
The concept of personal choice seems foreign to this lot, and the idea that the government should perhaps not be in the business of trying to save people from every possible bad choice they are now free to make — right down to an ill-advised packet of crisps, piece of shortbread or can of fizzy drink — seems not to have occurred to them. Or if it has, they’ve dismissed it and carried on with the desperate urge to nanny.