PicoBlog

I am one of those fall-lovers. Give me all of the sweaters and cute boots and changing leaves and yes, the pumpkin spice. But even above all of that, give me that spooky season. I was late to scary movies, but after seeing “The Omen” in the fall of 1989, I have been a fan. I love the little rush of adrenaline after a jump scare, I love feeling creeped out in the parking lot, I love feeling like I need to cover my eyes when the villain pulls out a knife.

The Big Ten’s “Maps” commercial is an institution. Since its debut in 2014, this meticulously crafted, masterfully animated, and impeccably soundtracked spot has graced millions of screens thousands of times. Experiencing it has become as much a part of Big Ten sports as singing our fight songs or watching all of our teams lose in the first weekend of the NCAA Tournament. If Big Ten country had a national anthem, it would be “Silver Lining” by Guards.

It started with a throw pillow in front of the TV. From the living room, through the dining room to the kitchen was about 25 feet. Plenty of space for a generous lead. When Rickey Henderson would reach base — as he did 40.1% of the time — I would toe the pillow just as the all-time steals leader would straddle the bag. Sorry, Mom. We’d bend our knees and stretch together.

Taken from the theoretical book of the same name, How to Blow Up a Pipeline’s title is self-explanatory, a promise of what is to come. While discussing the film at TIFF, director Daniel Goldhaber explained that he took inspiration from the self-explanatory titling of Robert Bresson’s 1956 film, A Man Escaped. The title makes it so that we know what is bound to happen, and yet the film is structured with a tense precision that makes it hard to ever fully settle; we are always on edge.

If you’ve been watching the Wu-Tang series on Hulu you’ve probably seen a bunch of clothing brands, including Tommy Hilfiger and Polo. But there’s one clothing that you might have missed. The logo was red, black, and green as were the clothes. And the lockup featured two C’s across the badge. It wasn’t Chanel — it was black-owned. It was Cross Colours. Look below at a still shot from one of the Wu-Tang episodes & the logo.

I have a terrible fear that one day I will be pronounced holy. — Nietzsche, Ecce Homo On September 15, Dr. Costin Alamariu published a revamped version of his dissertation under the title Selective Breeding and the Birth of Philosophy to great fanfare, becoming the 20th best-selling book on Amazon within two days. The book has attracted significant enthusiasm, but little critical engagement with its thesis. Hitherto most criticisms of Dr.

Chicken and Waffles are bacon and eggs: not so much a single dish as an inspired combination of two different things forever joined in glorious union. As with bacon and eggs, however, finding a single point or origin for chicken and waffles is a fool’s errand, a silly task made triply difficult by the fact that, often enough, historical sources could be referring to any of three different iterations: Southern fried chicken and waffles, the soul food staple turned hipster fetish; stewed chicken and waffles, a delicacy of long standing in Pennsylvania Dutch country; and broiled chicken and waffles, a 19th century preparation that sent diners into flights of ecstasy.

I first clapped eyes on a “lunch” restaurant in summer of 2008. I was in Troy, New York. I can’t remember why I was there. I don’t even remember how I got there—I owned no car at the time. But there I was, standing in front of a place called Famous Lunch. I was there to try the miniature hot dogs, a specialty of the Troy area, something Famous Lunch had been serving up since 1932.

As the temperature dips, I’m craving warm, gooey, fragrant kaya. This is an egg ‘jam’ that is popular throughout Malaysia and Singapore and consists of four core ingredients - coconut milk, sugar, eggs and pandan. Like conventional fruit jam, it is enjoyed as a spread on toast, alongside generous lashings of salted butter. The origin of this spread is contentious. Some say that it was a local adaptation of the Portuguese egg jam doce de ovos, which was introduced to the region by Portuguese colonists in the 16th century.