Miabi Films

Handsome Men’s Club

Greg — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 05:44:52 +0000

This is hilarious, though I have to disagree with Kimmel on some of his moves as president.

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Spot On

Greg — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 05:48:15 +0000

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RIP Robert McCall

Greg — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 05:43:43 +0000

An artist who made many of us dreamers has passed away. Robert McCall is responsible for some of the most awe-inspiring images from the space age. Some futurists weave their tales with a pen, he did it with a brush. Click on the links to check out his amazing work.

NASA Space Art Gallery

Picasso of the Space Age

LMGTFY

Greg — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 05:53:45 +0000

Next time that one friend who’s always bothering you for information that can easily be found using Google comes along, send them to Let Me Google That For You. They’re guaranteed to find the answers they’re looking for.

This has been a public service announcement from Miabi FIlms.

The Science of Sleep (Paralysis)

Greg — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 05:29:22 +0000

This is really scary and you probably shouldn’t watch it if you have trouble sleeping. Like I did. Super-interesting nonetheless.

It’s ok though. If you do have trouble sleeping after watching the video, you can download the iPhone app, Sleep Cycle. Pretty much the coolest app I’ve so far used and the best 99 pennies I’ve ever spent. Sleep Cycle is an alarm clock on HGH. It stays in bed with you and actually measures how you toss and turn through the night using the iPhone’s accelerometer. These subtle measurements allow the app to determine what sleep phase you are in. “Waking up in the lightest sleep phase feels like waking without an alarm clock – it is a natural way to wake up where you feel rested and relaxed.” So even though you set the alarm for a certain time, it can wake you up at any point during a 30 minute window, according to what phase you are in. After a while, it learns your sleep patterns and displays them in nightly graphs. You can even annoy your friends by posting the graphs to Facebook!

Naturally, I was skeptical at first, but so far this thing works like gangbusters. Since I started using it, I don’t feel groggy during the day and have had more energy than I know what to do with. Don’t know if it’s magic or psychological or if it just works, but color me a believer. Now I can’t wait to go to sleep. Read more about it here and here.

Real Good Experiment

Greg — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 05:09:14 +0000

A little long, but worth it. Really pretty social experiment about chairs.

Blu Dot Real Good Experiment from Real Good Chair on Vimeo.

Ironing

Greg — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 14:57:14 +0000

I hate to iron. It is a mindless, numbing activity. And a whole friggin’ to-do. You lug the ironing board out, fill the thing up with water, straighten out the shirt, detect the wrinkles, make sure there are no creases, iron and repeat. Multiple times. I could be spending that time washing dishes. It’s dangerous too! This heavy appliance is inches away from linens and skin with only one purpose… get really, really hot.

Why do we do it? Why can’t I walk around in wrinkled pants? Who says a pressed shirt is stylish or put-together? I’ll tell you who: Big Iron. This entire pro-pressed sentiment is all a racket put forth by the marketeers of Big Iron to sell more irons. I think it stinks, and I don’t like it.

I will make one point. There is a certain purification I get from ironing out those wrinkles. Watching them melt away somehow makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something, however menial. At least as much as I can accomplish while standing in the middle of my apartment in my underwear, listening to REO Speedwagon. (You don’t spin “Keep On Loving You” when YOU’RE ironing?) So I suppose ironing has an oddly cathartic component. Add in the danger and you have something to talk about. I just don’t think the ends justify the means.

Nearly four years ago, on the very first day of work, I was ironing. It was a new me. I was going to press my clothes. In a moment of distraction however, my forearm decided it wanted to get to really know that iron. What my forearm didn’t know is that irons are extremely racist toward skin. Actually, the tip of an iron looks like a Klansman’s hood. A painful, bright purple welt immediately showed up. As an added bonus, because of the confusion from burning myself, I forgot to zip up my fly. So I had a smoldering forearm and an unzipped fly on my first day of work. Awesome! What a disaster. Maybe not- I’m still here. And all my clothes are wrinkled.

http://www.outnext.com/on/2009/04/the-iron-of-the-future.html

So do I take my clothes off?

Thin Walls

Greg — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 05:33:13 +0000

For months, actually ever since I moved into my apartment, I’ve been conscious of the thin walls in my building. There are six units here and we are all up in each other’s business. I share a wall in the bedroom with my next door neighbor. Judging from the amount of things I can hear coming from his apartment, lord knows what he can hear coming from mine. I try to keep it fairly quiet. For privacy and respect. I don’t really listen to music in the bedroom and spend most of my time in the other room anyway. Other times, I’m too busy to care how loud it gets in here. Oh!

A young couple and their 3 year old son used to live next door. The kid would sing constantly and run from one end of the apartment to the other. This little shit was doing suicides day and night. Possibly training for a marathon. Julian was hyperactive and a nightmare to live next to. They moved away on my birthday and it was the best present anyone could ask for. For the most part, the guy that lives there now is quiet. Not enough to complain about here.

One thing I’m conscious of is my alarm clock. I use an iPhone as an alarm clock and she goes to bed with me. The alarm’s actual volume is not that loud, but after a long night of restless, intermittent sleep, when that thing goes off in the morning it sounds like shoes in a dryer on a runway at Newark International. I’m trying to subtly imply that it’s loud. Especially to someone disoriented from a dream they were just having about benevolent (and helpful!) robots. I’m pretty sure the guy next door goes to work later than me and I always feel slightly bad that I might be waking him up. I wasn’t quite sure he was actually hearing the alarm in the morning… And at the end of the day, I don’t really care. A man’s gotta wake up to make a living. But at least I had a little guilt about it?

Yesterday morning, my alarm went off as usual. I rolled over, blindly searching for my phone to tap the snooze button, but something wasn’t right. It was 6:30 am. My alarm wasn’t going off. Did I just dream my alarm went off? Did a dream alarm just wake me up? If I start having alarm dreams I’m really screwed. Don’t make me call the Dream Police. They live inside of my head.

No dream alarms. It was the guy next door. He apparently uses an iPhone for his alarm as well. And he’s using the exact same alarm tone as me. Well now I know if he can hear mine. I swear I thought my alarm, the one that is in bed with me, was vibrating and playing that dreadful melody I hear every morning. Heard it as clear as monday morning. Apparently it’s time to reconsider what passes for quiet.

Pretty sure we sleep right next to each other. I imagine his pillow is propped right up against the opposite side of the wall. I bet there’s less than six inches of sheet rock between our heads. I’m moving my bed. And I’m changing my alarm tone. I don’t feel comfortable not only being on this guy’s new schedule but sleeping next to a man separated by a decades old, six inch, mold-infested partition.

Thin Walls No Match for Fornicating NYers

Les Dangereux

Greg — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 13:01:35 +0000

He’s in love. But he’s finally met his match.

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Thought Bubble 19

Greg — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 05:58:46 +0000

I hate it when I accidentally use the same end of a Q-tip twice. Nasty.