After spending 11 days watching all 11 Pixar movies and hand selecting 500 scenes, mashupper Leandro Copperfield edited together this tribute to the best animation studio on the planet.
This Christmas -- as we suspected early in December -- was always going to be about the dubstep.
Fail compiler, Manuel “n0bodyyy” Staudte‘s 2010 Win-tacular montage.
UPDATE: Twisternederland -- Broadsheet’s favourite fail compiler -- released a December montage a few days back, which has since been taken down due to a copyright claim. Happily, he’s also released his own best-of-2010 mashup. Enjoy.
Doctor Who Matryoshka. All eleven doctors inside a Tardis.
(whimper)
Seriously though, cheers for the socks.
Michael Black from Belmar on the Jersey Shore set up a time lapse camera, recorded last weekend’s blizzard, then condensed 32 inches of snowfall to 38 seconds of video.
It even made the Irish Times:
(Heads up: Cara)
A week’s worth of snow eggs.
Materialising nationwide: like someone just turned the artificial gravity back on.
The next time you hear ‘one for everyone in the audience’…
It’s all Michael O’Leary’s fault.
[CLICK the ARROWS to BROWSE]
They say the snow is tider in the Protestant areas.
Photographed on Christmas Eve by Laura Hutton of Photocall Ireland.
[CLICK the ARROWS to BROWSE]
Culled from the interweb.
You’re most welcome.
What you said: “Even though the title gave the end away I read it in one sitting hoping Skippy would live. Marsupials will never look the same again.”
Alternative Title: Portrait Of The Artist As A Dead Bush Kangaroo
What you said: “I read it one sitting on an extremely uncomfortable chair hoping it would end bleakly. I wasn’t disappointed. Rooms will never look the same again.”
Alternative Title: Va-Va-Room
What you said: “I read it in one sitting unaware that it was 800 pages long. Freedom will never look the same again.”
Alternative Title: Cry Eunnui
What you said: “I read these short stories in one long sitting surrounded by my family, whose very emptiness echoed the emptiness at the heart of this page-turner. Fullness will never look the same again.”
Alternative Title: The Family’s Empties
Your mission: download 300,000 documents from the Oval Office while Obama is having a nap.
Wikikleaks. It brings the meh.
INGREDIENTS
1 butternut squash
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
A good pinch of cayenne
1 tablespoon olive oil
Big handful of puy lentils, rinsed
A big bowl of baby spinach and rocket
Half a packet of feta, crumbled
A small handful of pumpkin seeds
DRESSING
1 shallot chopped finely
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
Handful of fresh mint, chopped finely
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon mustard
1/2 teaspoon sugar
Salt, pepper
METHOD
Preheat oven to 200 degrees. Halve and peel the butternut squash, scoop out the seeds and chop into inch-sized chunks. In a roasting tray, toss the squash with the cumin, paprika, cayenne and oil. Roast in oven for about 45 minutes, taking them out half way through to mix about a bit.
While that’s cooking, cover the lentils in water and boil for 20-25 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water.
Whisk all the dressing ingredients together and set aside.
In a big serving dish, mix the salad leaves, the lentils, the crumbled feta, the warm roasted squash and toss in the dressing. Garnish with a sprinkling of pumpkin seeds.
Which is why an estimated 30,000 legal and undocumented Irish went to New York in 2010.
Paul Finnegan, executive director of the Irish Centre in Queens, said requests for advice and assistance have increased tenfold in the past year.
“I look around and I know that there are young men and women there that would not have the opportunity to get a green card.
“I’m not saying that they’ve overstayed their visitor’s visa, I’m just saying that I’m observing huge numbers that I have not seen in before.”
Watch here:
It’s about the famine, apparently.
“It tells a story of the famine,” says the song’s author Pete st John. “If people want to hang other things on The Fields of Athenry, that’s their business. It was never my intention . . . and I hate it.”
Blimey. Next they’ll be saying Molly Malone is about a prostitute who dies of consumption.
