Dated like me?

It’s like we’re caught in some kind of relativity warp wormhole, where the retro threshold keeps inching closer to now, and we can’t stop living in the future.

The Decemberists: Picaresque.

Great stuff if drinking-hall operettas are your thing, but if they’re not, these songs can get kind of tedious as they wallow in their quaint mannerisms.

Next on VH1: Behind the Webserver.

The Web is no longer this new and shiny thing that I’ve just discovered, but is now enough of an established institution that it can produce “where are they now?” stories.

The devolution of a programmer.

A sizable amount of my working life has been spent processing large quantities of text: generating it, reformatting it, parsing it, displaying it. Over the years, my approach to this sort of thing has evolved.

Star Wars, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith.

When the only convincing performance in a film comes from a backwards-talking, computer-animated muppet, you know you’re in trouble.

My Own Private Portland.

The Portland of My Own Private Idaho is the PDX of fifteen years ago.