Tuesday, July 22, 2003
I'm feeling quite squished and tired. I'm not meant for this work-thing. I'm supposed to linger languidly on a terrace somewhere, drinking champagne in the shadow of a coconut-tree, with occasional trips to an assortment of shops.
*Stares*
Metro has an article about flash mobbing:
One minute, a handful of shoppers was looking at Italian leather uppers.
The next, hundreds of people were swarming in the door. Five minutes later, they were gone.
The mystery crowd was the work of a mischievous underground movement called the Mob Project.
(...)
The premise is to create an inexplicable mob, somewhere in New York, for ten minutes or less.
Yes, it's pointless, but it's also kind of fun and seems like a very friendly act of...mobbing.
Things I Don't Know, nummer tre:
The actual function of pi.
*Stares*
Metro has an article about flash mobbing:
One minute, a handful of shoppers was looking at Italian leather uppers.
The next, hundreds of people were swarming in the door. Five minutes later, they were gone.
The mystery crowd was the work of a mischievous underground movement called the Mob Project.
(...)
The premise is to create an inexplicable mob, somewhere in New York, for ten minutes or less.
Yes, it's pointless, but it's also kind of fun and seems like a very friendly act of...mobbing.
Things I Don't Know, nummer tre:
The actual function of pi.
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